Minerva McGonagall found Enid Pettigrew lying face down in the courtyard, her loose strawberry blonde curls strewn around her, her blue eyes wide and staring at nothing.
There was no mistaking that the girl-woman-was dead, but Minerva knelt down next to her anyway, her hand reaching out to touch Enid's expressionless face and finding it cool to the touch. She shivers and pulls her hand back quickly, a wave of unbecoming emotion almost overwhelms her and she has to swallow several times before she can dispel the lump in her throat. She knew this girl.
She watched Enid strut into the Great Hall nearly forty years ago, head high, blue eyes sparking with mischief. It was no surprise to Minerva when the girl was swiftly placed into Gryffindor. She was equally unfazed to discover that the girl was talented, particularly at Transfiguration. The eyes never lie, you see.
Minerva had cheered Enid on when she led the Gryffindor Quidditch team to victory with her excellent Keeper skills. She had recommended Enid for prefect in her fifth year, and recommended her for Head Girl two years later. She had written Enid's letter of recommendation when Enid had applied for a position in the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Enid had called her first when she got the position.
Minerva had been the one to tell Enid and her mother what happened to Peter. Little Sarah Pettigrew had sobbed uncontrollably, but Enid had just nodded, tears dripping down her own face and said, "I am glad that if he had to go, he went down fighting."
Enid married Otto Bagman two years later. Minerva had seen each of her children (her children, her poor, poor babies) sorted into her house. Liam, Elise, Katherine, they were all just like their mother, so talented. ..
Minerva had been the one to tell Enid what had really happened to Peter. The day after the debacle at the Ministry, Enid had burst into her office from the fireplace, shaking; demanding to know if what was said in the Prophet was true.
So Minerva, not one to mince words or lie to someone's face, had told her the truth.
She'd watched Enid's eyes light-like blue fire they had burned into her that day. Enid had walked out of her office without a word. That was the last time they had seen each other.
And now…
"Professor?"
Minerva looked up, startled, at the tired face of Oliver Wood who looked far older than his twenty two years.
"One of ours?" he asked, looking down at Enid's prone form.
One of mine. She thought, running her fingers through Enid's hair again.
"Yes, yes." Minerva stood, one hand reaching to her eyes, fingers brushing away the moisture that had inexplicably gathered there, "She's one of ours."
"Right then." Oliver sighed and lifted his wand. Enid's body trembled slightly and then gently rose into the air. Her head lolled back, her long strawberry red curls nearly touching the ground, her blue eyes seeming to lock on Minerva's hazel ones.
Minerva watched until Oliver levitated Enid into the castle and out of her sight. She stopped helping look for bodies after that. She couldn't bear finding 'one of theirs' again.