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2 May 1998

"You can look away if you want to," Minerva said gently. The second-year she was tending to nodded and looked away, tears pouring silently down his cheeks. The Battle was paused, so to speak, and Minerva was taking care of a young boy she had found walking down the corridor in tears.

"I want to go home," he whispered, his whole body shaking. "I tried to be brave but I—I'm scared."

Minerva swallowed and finished wrapping the bandage around the boy's arm. "You have been more than brave, Michael," she told him, the use of his first name causing the boy to look at her again. "In five minutes I am arranging several portkeys to take some students home," she added. "Go to the Great Hall, and I will be there shortly."

The boy nodded and Minerva helped him get up. As she straightened, however, she winced and her hand instantly moved to the side of her stomach. She knew it was still bleeding but so far she had not had the time to heal herself. In all the commotion, she had barely even felt it until now anyway.

Michael looked at her anxiously but Minerva just nodded for him to continue. "The Great Hall, Hoffman," she said, trying to keep her composure for him. "I will meet you there."

He nodded and turned, wiping away his tears as he made his way to the Great Hall - or what was left of it. Once he had almost disappeared, Minerva groaned and placed a hand on the castle wall for support. Slowly she looked down to assess the damage.

It didn't seem like a particularly life-threatening sore. Though it was deep enough to make her wince terribly when she moved. Minerva closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall to regain her breath. She had been like that for barely a second when she heard a gasp and then hurried footsteps coming towards her.

"Minerva!"

Minerva opened her eye instantly to see her goddaughter rushing towards her - panic and fear clear in her eyes.

"Are you ok? No, you're hurt—"

Minerva straightened and put her hands on Grace's shoulders. The movement pulled at the torn skin on her side, however, Minerva paid no heed to it. "Grace, I'm fine," she reassured the girl.

"You're not—"

"—I am," Minerva cut in firmly. "Nothing that cannot be fixed," she added, though a little breathlessly. "Your mother—"

"She's fine," Grace said before Minerva could finish. "I think. Someone told me she's helping Madame Pomfrey in the Great Hall," she added. "There are so many—so many people injured or—or—"

This time Grace broke off, and Minerva pulled her in gently for a hug. She patted Grace's back gently, partly to help soothe the girl, but also partly because any movement demanding greater exertion would only aggravate the deep sore in her side. Hardly any words were spoken between them until Minerva finally had to drop her hand and press her side again.

It did not help that the old pains in her hip and chest were aching again. The rapid beating of her heart too did not inspire Minerva with much confidence — she had known it had got worse over the course of the year, however, seeing a Healer at St Mung's had been nigh-on impossible this academic year. Minerva only hoped that she could manage the rest of the night.

Noticing the pained expression on her godmother's face, Grace stepped back and assessed Minerva. "Minerva?" she said worriedly.

Minerva, whose eyes had been closed up until this point, nodded reassuringly. "It is quite all right, Grace," she reassured the girl.

Grace made a move to help support her, "Madam Pomfrey—"

"Has enough on her plate," Minerva interrupted. "The cut is not deep - nothing that you cannot fix," she added. "I trust you, dear."

Grace widened her eyes. "Oh, I shouldn't..." she stammered. "I couldn't..."

Minerva shook her head. "Nonsense," she said firmly, though she was pressing her side quite firmly now. "Vulnera Sanentur," she said. "Wave your wand in a circle around the affected area."

Grace looked uncertain.

"I trust you, Grace," Minerva said, which was the truth. It was also necessary that Grace be the one to help her — indeed, Minerva would have done it herself if not for the fact that the injury was on the same side as her dominant hand. Although not a life-threatening injury, the cut was still significant and Minerva did not wish to use her left hand to heal it seeing as her non-dominant hand was much less coordinated than her dominant one. "Vulenra Sanentur," she repeated. "Wand in a circular motion around the affected area, please," she added.

At that last word, Grace pursed her lips in a manner very similar to Minerva, the older witch observed, and prepared herself to cast the spell. "Vulnera Sanentur," she said firmly.

Minerva instantly felt that the spell had worked. Her skin knit together and, apart from a faint scar, the injury had healed and the pain subsided considerably. She gave an involuntary sigh of relief, realising only just now how painful the injury had been. "Thank you, dear," she said, fixing her robes with one swift motion of her wand. Then, she placed a hand on her goddaughter's shoulder. "Come," she said softly, guiding Grace back towards the Great Hall.

Though Minerva had been in the Great Hall before, the sight of it still surprised her when she and Grace both entered the room. The floor was covered with pop up beds and stretchers for the injured and the dead. Madame Pomfrey and a few seventh years helping the matron were moving swiftly from bed to bed, assessing damage but also rearranging and cleaning bodies for them to be recognised and presentable for friends and family.

The cacophony of noise that also greeted Minerva's ears also made her feel slightly more ill. Wailing, crying, sniffling, and words of comfort spoken amongst friends and families was most that could be heard. Minerva swallowed and patted Grace's shoulder gently when she spotted Pomona across the hall. Poppy was tending to her, and from what Minerva could see, the older witch was in a great deal of pain.

The Hufflepuff caught Minerva's eyes and they exchanged a look, communicating all that needed saying. Understanding Pomona's expression, Minerva nodded and Pomona bowed her head in thanks: she wanted Grace safely out of the castle before the battle resumed and gone before she spotted her mother in the state she was currently in.

A few seconds later and Grace and Minerva had moved on so that they were standing next to a group of students who were to be taken home. The passage between Abeforth's pub and Hogwarts had collapsed not long ago meaning it was out of the question to use that escape route. The others they had were brooms, floor or disapparation - all useless.

Minerva took a deep breath, thought for a moment as she steadied her breathing, then made a decision and reached out to pick up the first object she could find. She rapped it smartly with her wand and the object glowed an electric blue colour, before resuming its usual brown.

"This portkey will take you to the Three Broomsticks at Hogsmeade," she said, capturing the attention of mainly second and third years who had snuck back into the castle at the start of the battle. "Madam Rosmerta will be waiting for you there, and she will help bring you home - along with Miss Matthews." Grace instantly turned to face Minerva, but Minerva powered on, speaking over Grace's protests. "Ensure that you stay together, and do not leave Madam Rosmerta or Miss Matthews' sight. Understood?"

"Yes, Professor."

Minerva nodded, then turned to face her goddaughter. "Grace," she began, but Grace shook her head adamantly and crossed her arms.

"I won't do it."

"That is not an option—"

"I can't leave when both you and Mum are still here!" Grace interrupted. "I can help."

"You can help by doing this for me," Minerva said, resisting the urge to close her eyes and take a deep breath. "Grace, you're not even meant to be here. I need someone to help me get these children home," she added. "Please."

Grace's face appeared to crumple as she realised she was losing the argument. "But why me?" she finally said, looking through the crowd again to find Pomona but failing to. "What if..."

Minerva swallowed as Grace trailed away. "Your schoolmates need you, and we need you to do this. When it is all over—"

"Minerva?" Minerva turned to see Poppy pointing at her watch. "Five minutes," said the younger witch.

Minerva nodded and looked back to face her goddaughter. "Do not come back," she said quickly, "under any circumstance. Unless your mother, myself, or someone that you know comes to get you."

"If I'm helping the third and second years, how will you know where I am?"

Minerva pulled Grace in for a hug. "It won't be hard for us to find out, dear." She then stood back and kissed Grace on the forehead before placing the portkey in the girl's hand; the object was already starting to glow. "I will see you soon."

"Promise?"

Minerva manoeuvred leaving students around the portkey until they were all in the right position. Then she took a step back, looked at her goddaughter again and hitched up a slight smile that still seemed to betray her conflicting emotions. "Promise."

Grace had barely nodded when she was suddenly swallowed by white light and then disappeared along with the rest of the group. The last thing Minerva remembered seeing of her goddaughter, was Grace's wide brown eyes staring back at her. Minerva's smile disappeared from her lips and she looked back at the broken hall.

She jumped when she felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder.

"Only me," came Pomona's tired voice. She winced as she came to stand beside her friend. "Thank you for doing that. If she'd seen me, I don't think she would ever have left."

Minerva was inclined to agree. "Are you all right, dear?" she asked.

"I'm up and standing," Pomona replied. "Yourself?"

"Up and standing."

Pomona caught her eye and Minerva reached out to gently squeeze her shoulder.