Sorry if this did jump around a bit. I didn't want to re-write anything that was already in the book.
2 May 1998
Several things happened at once as soon as the Sorting Hat flew to the Entrance Hall and sat firmly on the Longbottom's head. Years later and neither Minerva nor Pomona, or anyone else who had been in that room for that matter, could recall exactly what it was that had happened with any sort of precision.
As the hat burst into flames on Neville's head, Minerva reached for her wand. She felt Pomona do the same beside her but their attempts to help Longbottom ended up being unnecessary when an army of centaurs and one giant oddly screaming 'Hagger' smashed their way into the castle and bowled a dozen of Death Eaters down. There were screams, and Minerva saw Longbottom yank the hat off his head and draw something long and glittering from the Sorting Hat. But as the walls began to crumble and spells started to bounce erratically around them, Minerva did not wait long enough to see what it was Neville had removed from the hat.
Without thinking, she reached out to take the arms of those closest to her, in this case, it was Pomona and Finnigan, and she pulled them away to a safer area of the castle.
"It was the Sword of Gryffindor!" Seamus said, half in a state of shock - and half amused it seemed. "And did you see—"
"Potter's disappeared," Pomona interrupted. "I saw him move. He tumbled out of Hagrid's arms and then vanished—I don't understand, he just became invisible."
Minerva frowned the words 'How can that be?' on the tip of her tongue before a wild thought struck her: the cloak. That stupid, idiotic present Albus had deemed sensible to place in the hands of a 11-year-old, and it might just have saved Potter's life.
Suddenly Pomona ducked, and she pulled Minerva with her and Minerva pulled Seamus down in turn. A dozen purple spells shot over their head, where they had been standing only a second before. There was no time for dawdling. No matter the chaos that was now surrounding them, and the possibility that Potter was alive and somewhere about the castle, Minerva still needed to pull herself together.
After the elves had emerged from the kitchens and swarmed the Death Eaters now congregated in the Great Hall along with everybody else, Minerva had ended up duelling Voldemort.
She was not sure how it had come to be. She had tried to block Voldemort's spell aimed at Jordan and Weasley who were fighting Yaxley, and then he had seen her and turned on her. He moved swiftly, his spells were neverending and vastly more creative than anything she had seen before. In the back of her mind, Minerva knew that she was in no shape to keep this duel up. While she had been fighting since before dawn, Voldemort had only just entered the battle. And the differences this made were obvious.
Minerva could feel herself slowing down. She transfigured the rubble underneath Voldemort's feet so that they became long shards of glass, like blades sprouting from the ground. In turn, Voldemort waved his wand so that the litter on the floor levitated and hurtled towards Minerva. She summoned up a shield and was on the brink of retaliating when Filius materialised by her side to help.
Horace appeared moments later, still clad in his green pyjamas. The absurdity of the situation was not lost to Minerva, but there was hardly any time to dwell on the matter. The fighting grew more intense until suddenly, they heard a shriek.
Molly Weasley stumbled backwards and Arthur, a look of pure terror and worry, went immediately towards her. But it was not Molly Weasley who was hurt this time. A few feet away, the gloating smile on Bellatrix Lestrange's face disappeared and the witch fell back, unmoving.
For a moment, there was silence. Then Voldemort let out an inhumane roar. Distracted momentarily by the events that had taken place across the room, Molly Weasley still looking pale and shaken at the body before her, Minerva did not react fast enough to Voldemort's fell swipe.
Instantly, she felt herself fly into the air along with Horace and Kinglsey. She landed with a loud and painful crunch, which could only be a bad thing, she thought dazedly.
"Here, Minerva."
Minerva looked to Filius, who had spoken, and gratefully accepted the help he was offering by taking his hand.
It was a struggle to stand, and Filius tried his best to help her. Once she was up, one hand pressed firmly against her ribs and the other pressed against the wall for support, Minerva tried to take in her surroundings. As her eyes swept across the hall she saw, in the centre, lay the unmistakable body of Voldemort.
Potter had done in it. Though she had heard snippets of the conversation, Minerva had not been conscious for the whole time Potter had spoken to Voldemort. Some part of her could still not comprehend what had occurred.
Minerva staggered and Filius steadied her by holding her elbow.
"All right?"
"I—I'm fine," Minerva whispered. Then she closed her eyes and she clapped a hand across her mouth. Her ribs were searing with pain but all she could think about now was just taking in the news of what had happened and what it meant.
When she opened her eyes again, Filius was smiling. It did not quite reach his eyes, but it showed relief as well as shock. The horrors of what they had all witnessed that evening would not truly sink in for weeks yet.
He squeezed her elbow. "Poppy is tending to the wounded," he said. "I recommend you see her. You hit your head quite hard earlier."
Minerva nodded and as if on cue, her head gave a painful throb and the whole room seemed to move in front of her. She felt the need to sit down but did not. "
"How is everyone? Are there many more wounded?"
Filius faltered. "A few. Not everyone is accounted for," he added. "I will need to leave you, Minerva, to help. There are quite a few students still at the Hog's Head - Miss Matthews has just sent word—"
"Miss Matthews—Grace," Minerva said. She frowned as she struggled to pinpoint what exactly it was about hearing Grace's name that had made her worried. "Pomona. Where is Pomona?"
"I haven't seen her yet."
"Is she—"
"I don't know where she is, Minerva. I last saw her leave the Hall and go outside." Filius' expression grew worried as the colour drained from Minerva's face. She shivered and stumbled slightly again, and this time Filius had trouble keeping her upright. "I think you really ought to see Poppy, Minerva."
Minerva shook her head. "Poppy is looking after those in greater need. I can manage," she said. She winced and rubbed her head as she tried to clear her thoughts. "Did you say that you last saw Pomona outside?"
Filius nodded. He looked as though he was on the verge of recommending that she should sit down again, however, he appeared to think better of it. "I will send her daughter straight to you," he said instead.
"Thank you, Filius," Minerva said, and she promptly left the Hall to find Pomona.
"Minerva!"
Minerva looked up in time to see Pomona step inside the castle. Her hair was in a tangled knot, strewn with rubble and dust particles. Her clothes were slightly torn, and covered in scorch marks. Apart from that, and the small graze on her cheek, Pomona seemed absolutely fine.
Instantly, she hurried towards Minerva and wrapped her in a tight embrace. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," she breathed softly, the sense of relief clear in her voice. "I have been looking for you everywhere. I met Hagrid on the way up and he said you had been hurt."
"I'm not hurt," Minerva reassured her. "A little bump to the head, nothing that can't be fixed. It might have even done some good."
Pomona laughed despite herself. "Has Poppy examined you, dear? I'm not sure you would say that under normal circumstances."
Minerva smiled. "Perhaps not," she admitted, still feeling slightly foggy and groggy. "But I am very glad to see you, Pomona. And I would have said that regardless if I had bumped my head or not."
"You silly goose," she said, though she was very pleased herself. "I'm glad you're all right. Though I would advise you to sit, dear. You look awfully pale."
Minerva nodded and Pomona helped her sit. "All right?"
"Right as rain," Minerva mumbled.
"I think you might have a bit of concussion, dear. Perhaps we should move you to somewhere a bit more comforta—"
"Minerva!"
"Mum!"
Both Minerva and Pomona looked up in time to see Grace skid into the broken Entrance Hall. Without hesitation, she ran to her mother and enveloped her in the tightest hug.
"I have been out of my mind with worry!" she said, burying her head into her mother's shoulder. "We could hear the fighting from the Hog's Head and I tried to reassure the little ones but—but I was so scared. I thought—" Grace broke off and began to cry.
"Oh, darling," Pomona said, and she began to stroke her daughter's back. "It's all right. Grace, it's all right. It's my job to be worried about you, not the other way around," she said. She kissed Grace on the head and then straightened to wipe the tears from her daughter's cheeks. "I am absolutely fine, sweetheart. I am absolutely fine."
"You are?"
Pomona smiled and kissed Grace again. "Yes."
"And Minerva?" Grace added, looking at Minerva who had been watching the interaction between Pomona and Grace from her seated position.
Minerva's head was resting against the wall and she was squinting slightly due to how bright it was. But, apart from feeling generally sluggish and being a little more sensitive to light than usual, she felt more or less fine.
Minerva smiled. "Minerva is fine," she said. Then, she heaved herself up and swayed slightly.
"What would you like me to do?" Pomona said, letting go of her daughter to put a steadying hand on Minerva's elbow. "Minerva?"
Minerva closed her eyes and frowned slightly as she tried to gather her thoughts. "I would like you both to leave the castle as quickly as possible," she said eventually and opened her eyes. She smiled at Pomona's surprised expression and added pointedly, "I think there is a certain someone who has waited a very long time to see his wife and daughter again."
Grace's face brightened. "We can see Dad now?"
"There is no time like the present, Grace Matthews," Minerva replied. She turned to Pomona and squeezed her hand gently. "Go on home, now, dear. Goodness knows that you and Albert have waited long enough to see each other again. You deserve some rest."
"And what will you do?"
"There are a few things that need to be taken care of here," Minerva said quietly, thinking first of the many wounded that were still being brought to the castle. She sighed and kissed Pomona on the cheek, not wanting to give Pomona any more excuses to stay with her. "I will be fine," she assured her.
"Would you like me to tell your brother?"
Minerva shook her head. "I will tell him myself," she said. "You just worry about yourself, Pomona. And I will see you soon."
Pomona held Minerva's gaze for a moment, then turned to her daughter. "Run along to the gate, darling. I will be with you in a moment."
Grace nodded but, before leaving, she turned and gave Minerva a tight embrace. "I'm glad you're all right, Minerva."
"Me too," Minerva said quietly.
Grace smiled and, after being ushered away by her mother once more, left the Great Hall. Pomona reached out to hold Minerva's hand. Her smile wavered.
"You look very pale, dear," she said. "No hidden injuries that you aren't telling me about?"
Minerva shook her head. "I am fine, Pomona," she promised. "Really. Now, go home." She squeezed Pomona's arm and kissed her friend on the cheek. "Send my best to Albert."
"I will do," Pomona replied. She paused for a moment then sighed. "I am going to tell Poppy to keep an eye on you before I leave. And I will be back this evening to see you—I won't hear any of your protests," she added firmly when Minerva opened her mouth to argue.
"Very well," Minerva acquiesced. She accepted another of Pomona's hugs. Despite the pain in her side, the frantic beating of her heart, the pain in her head, as well as everything else that needed to be tended to, Minerva still welcomed the embrace.
"I'm glad you're all right, dear," Pomona whispered.
Minerva found herself suddenly growing quite emotional. She tried to compose herself, and then she straightened and kissed Pomona on the cheek. "Off you go, now," she said.
