AN: Happy New Year everybody! Thank you for all the support with my story so far, please feel free to leave me a review or any pointers. There are many interesting chapters to come :)

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Chapter Seven: Floo Powder

Two days had passed and there had been no signs of improvement for Minerva, he was thankful that her Medi-Witch Ms Jenkins still obliged him with updates even if there had been, really, very little news at all.

Himself and Ginny had been arguing about when and how much to tell the children about Minerva's condition. Harry advocated for telling them as soon as possible, preferring to be open with them, however Ginny wanted to shield them from the pain as much as she could. Harry understood where she was coming from, but his gut was telling him they deserved to hear the truth as soon as possible.

He exited the hospital room where he had been camping out to meet Ginny in the corridor. She was looking more and more troubled, her eyes framed by purple marks of tiredness. "We're supposed to be picking the children up tomorrow." Ginny murmured, worry furrowing her brows.

"I don't want to spring something like this on them, without warning."

"I know." Harry answered, searching for what else he could say to offer her comfort.

"I've been giving what you said some thought." Ginny reached out and took both of Harry's hands into her own. "I think you may be right…. about telling them."

Harry squeezed her hands gently. "Before they come home?" He urged.

Ginny nodded sadly before letting Harry's hands fall to his sides. "It's the right thing to do Gin." She looked at him silently, Harry searched her eyes for what she was feeling, wanting to do something to assuage her guilt. "I'll use the hospital owls to send a message to Professor Flitwick and get a meeting set up for tonight. We're bringing them home."

She nodded and turned away from him to open to the door to Minerva's room. Leaving Harry behind who sighed heavily before heading to the hospital owlery.

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Professor Flitwick had quickly replied and agreed on them taking the children home in the evening, he asked them to meet in his office and the two Head of Houses will bring the children to them promptly.

They apparated to Hogsmeade and paced quickly to the castle, as staff knew they were coming they gained entrance quickly. A tattered, severely aged Argus Filch escorted them to the Gargoyle Corridor. Harry and Ginny stepped into the Gargoyle which sprang to life to take them up the Headmaster's Tower.

Harry hovered by the entrance to the Headmasters office feeling more uncomfortable than he wanted to let on, and not because of the situation at hand either. Ginny seemed to be struggling too but had opted for pacing back and forth in front of the large desk that stood in the centre of the room.

Shortly after Flitwick had left the room he returned with Professor Slughorn who had Albus in tow, followed by Neville with the other two of his children. Slughorn wished them a good evening and left. Neville, however, picked up on his friends uneasiness and stayed by their side, eager to find out why the Potter's were taking their children early.

Harry, still refusing to step any further into the office, wanted to get this conversation over with quickly, making eye contact with his three children to capture their attention. "Hi guys, I know you will be wondering why Mum and I have come to get you from school early so I will make this short."

He could see Neville beginning to exit the room, and before Harry could take another breath, Ginny nodded in the direction of Neville. "You can stay Professor Longbottom. You should hear this too."

Neville slid his hands into his pockets and stood next to his two Gryffindor students.

Sighing, Harry glanced up to the strung up instruments, whirring and clicking in a familiar sort of way before his eyes settled on the years of dust before pulling himself together. "Aunty Minerva is in the hospital."

Both James and Albus tensed noticeably, hanging onto their fathers every word. Lily who was the youngest of the three and seemed confused but like her brothers yearned for more information.

"She has dragon pox and…"

Harry dropped his eyes to his feet knowing they were welling with the beginning of tears. He felt a large hand on his shoulder and upon lifting his gaze he knew it was Neville by his side. He nodded gently and then looked at his three children again.

"I'm afraid, that St Mungo's have said that it is very unlikely that she will get better."

James immediately fell apart, audibly weeping with tears streaming down his face. He fumbled backwards away from the group in shock. "No way. Dad.. No.. Aunty Minerva is going to be okay." He croaked.

Harry watched as Ginny went to comfort their son, himself feeling suddenly and overwhelmingly guilty for having to saddle them with this news.

"That is why we are bringing you home. So you can go and see her."

There wasn't a dry eye in the room, all three of his children battling a sudden influx of grief that no child should have to experience and even though James was older, it didn't make the concept of death any easier to swallow.

Harry understood this all too well, and although he had never voiced this aloud he had hoped to create a world for his children that meant they didn't have to encounter that feeling. Not until they were much older, that is not to say they would be ready to deal with it then, as nobody really is, no matter how old they are but at least they wouldn't feel it's cruel sting upon their young soul.

Ginny had instructed the children to return to their dormitories to pack their things, and to make sure they had everything with them. Professor Flitwick added that as their end of year exams were already completed he would simply owl their results to them instead.

The three children were granted permission to leave the Headmasters office, and Harry watched them breeze past him at the entrance and head to the stairs. He called after them to say they shouldn't feel rushed as they could take the floo home when they were ready.

Harry and Ginny tried to wait patiently for their children's return, Flitwick attempting to fill the silence with awkward small talk but neither of them felt like engaging. Harry spent much of their time waiting, comforting Ginny so she didn't rush off to their children's dorms and make a scene. "Gin, they are feeling this enough already without us embarrassing them in front of their friends." He said gently in her direction.

She still paced but paused momentarily to meet her husband's gaze. "I know, Harry. I just want to help."

"Me too. They will be here soon. They will." He offered, trying to sound confident in his words.

Then soon enough James arrived back with his trunk and owl in tow, followed by his two siblings who looked just as glum as he did as they trundled out the Headmasters office earlier that evening.

Harry explained to the children what was going to happen when they were home as well as some extra information about Minerva's condition. Wanting to prepare them as much as he could for what was to come.

After briefing the children, he walked steadfast towards the fireplace seemingly forgetting all of his reservations about being in the Headmasters Office to begin with.

When he heard a voice which made his blood run cold.

A calm and reassuring voice, yet a voice which made every hair on his body stand on edge.

That voice, which had caused the room to fall into a sudden and completely deafening silence was none other than Albus Dumbledore.

"Did I hear correctly that Minerva is gravely ill?"

Flitwick's eyes bounced between Harry and Dumbledore's portrait, which was visible to him but not where Harry was standing. Understanding rapidly that Harry had no intention of bringing himself into view.

Harry stood still as the whole room seemed fixated on him, lingering, to see what he would do next. Instead of any grand gesture or reaction, he instead, thundered to the fireplace and stepped inside. Instructing the children to repeat after him when they too climbed inside to floo home.

He reached into the ornate metal pot that rested at the bottom of the fireplace and took a haphazard handful of the green floo powder. Throwing it down to his feet as he called "The Potter's. Godric's Hollow." Both loudly and clearly so the green flames would rise up and take him to his destination.

The last thing he would see before feeling his feet leave the ground was the deep purple of Dumbledore's robes in his portrait, which was followed by the sudden wave of nausea and this time he didn't think it was just because of the floo powder.

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