(a/n - ooh, it has been getting all dramatic - well, in my eyes - but I am getting slightly irritated by the fact that I have many views just not many reviews. Once you've read, why not take a couple of minutes to let me know what you think - positive or negative. You know you want to...) Going Nowhere Fast... Albus scanned the room. He knew she was there. She had to be there. He had just conquered death, so where was she? He had to find her. He wanted her. No, he needed her. He went to check on all of the casualties of war, who were all due to be sent to St Mungo's as soon as possible. She wasn't there. Albus searched the room, growing more and more worried. Then, he saw it. Tucked away, crumpled and broken, was the unmoving body of Minerva McGonagall. Her glamour was still on, but Albus could see from afar that it was her. She was the still body on the floor, mixed with all of those who had fallen fighting for right. Albus felt a lump rise in his throat, and a tear fall down his face. He crossed the room in a couple of strides, and picked up her mangled body. "No. Minerva. No." he whispered. There was nobody else in the room, only the bodies of those who had passed on. He kissed her gently, and a small gasp emitted from her throat. She wasn't dead! Albus smiled happily. She wasn't dead! She was, however, in a coma. She needed medical attention. Albus carried her towards the door, and stepped into the fresh air.
All of a sudden, Albus was surrounded by flashbulbs. The wizarding press had obviously heard of the dark wizard's defeat. Albus was then confronted with a horrible sight. One of his eldest Hogwarts pupils, Rita Skeeter.
"Why hello, headmaster! Would you care to have an interview, tell us who the lovely woman you have in your arms is?" she asked quickly.
"She is a war casualty and you could be costing her a life. You shouldn't be here. Good day, Miss Skeeter." he replied smoothly. Albus then went up to Poppy and whispered the problem to her.
"Oh! That's..." she trailed off. "Right away, Albus!" and with that they were apparated into the infirmary at Hogwarts.
"Thanks Poppy." Albus whispered. "Herr is better than et Mungo's. More private."
"That's okay, Albus. Minerva is my friend. She always has been. Always will be." she turned towards Minerva. "You, my friend, are going nowhere fast." And with that she instructed Albus to lay her down on the far bed. "You may leave now, Albus." she said. As he turned to leave, a thought struck her. "Oh... Albus?"
"Yes, my dear?"
"Could um... Could... Could Alastor come and stay in my quarters for the rest of the holidays? Once he's finished all his auror commitments linked to your heroic act?"
"Of course, my dear." And with that, Albus Dumbledore retired to his own private quarters, to catch up with some well earned rest and muse over his Minerva, who lay cut up and crumpled on a lonely bed in the infirmary. Albus hoped and prayed that Poppy would be able to fix her soon.