I wrote this part, but it didn't fit the main story. So it can be assumed that it took place some time after the final.

The funeral

Scorpius felt tired from the past week, but he headed toward McGonagall's office without complaining. It had never happened that laziness or discouragement deterred him from "extra-curricular activities." Ultimately, these were the most valuable lessons he received at Hogwarts, and he never voluntarily gave them up.

Yet that day, his legs didn't carry him easily. He made his way to the office door with great difficulty and knocked feebly. A soft invitation was responded to immediately. Almost instantly, his weariness left him. Something was amiss. The Headmaster's voice was usually strong and resolute, but currently, it sounded weak. Concerned, Scorpius opened the door and entered. McGonagall, as usual, sat at her large, light brown desk with prepared materials strewn across it. Sometimes Scorpius wondered when the Headmaster found the time to prepare all that, considering her numerous responsibilities. It had never occurred to him to thank her for it, even though he knew she also put effort into preparing for their lessons. She never improvised; she always had a meticulously planned agenda for their meetings, and she diligently went through each point.

The woman greeted him with a nod and a hand gesture toward the chair on the other side of the desk. At first glance, she seemed to behave quite normally, which somewhat subdued Scorpius' quickly growing concern. He even began to wonder if he overanalyzed things. Therefore, without further delay, he sat down and looked at the open textbook. The chapter was about using a strengthening rune when initiating elemental-based charms. He grimaced inwardly. Runes again. In recent months, he had grown tired of them, even though he understood their usefulness.

McGonagall briefly explained the methodology, so he began his first attempts, sequentially igniting more numerous flames on a sheet of paper with inscribed runes. The fire, however, did not touch either the paper or the desk's surface.

For over an hour, he repeated the exercise in various combinations, getting to know and analyzing different relationships while recognizing in which configurations it worked best. The Headmaster observed his efforts in silence for most of the time, occasionally interjecting with her comments. Though she was very objective and to the point, Scorpius couldn't completely shake the feeling that something had changed. And only after a while did he realize what didn't sit right with him. Even though they usually worked most of their practice time, during short breaks, they sometimes engaged in casual conversations, sometimes humorous, sometimes serious, always creating a pleasant atmosphere. However, that day, the Headmaster was unusually quiet and focused on the exercise. It was as if... she didn't want to think about anything else.

Scorpius was familiar with that method. How many times had he tried to drown his worries with work and study? He wasn't the type to talk much or share his concerns with others. Even with Albus, who understood him best, it didn't come easy. However, he knew that not everyone was as closed off as he was. Guided by that thought, he finally set his wand down on the desk and looked at the woman across from him. While their relationship had long since gone beyond the typical student-teacher dynamic, inquiring about personal matters was still far beyond their boundaries. Nevertheless, Scorpius felt that that issue would not leave him in peace.

"Is something wrong?" he asked finally, suddenly feeling a strange dryness in his throat. For a moment, surprise appeared on the Headmaster's face. She didn't expect such a question. Her facial expression only confirmed his belief that it wasn't the content of the question that surprised her, but rather the realization that she couldn't conceal the reality. In the end, she sighed slightly, closed her eyes, and rubbed her temple with her fingers. She suddenly looked very tired. However, she quickly composed herself and looked at him seriously.

"You don't need to worry; it's nothing related to the school. I just received some unpleasant news that morning."

Scorpius remained silent, still just watching the Headmaster. He didn't want to press, leaving her the decision of whether she wanted to involve him in the details.

"But since we're on the topic, I will have to reschedule our Thursday lesson," she added.

Scorpius nodded.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

McGonagall waved off his question with a gesture of her hand.

"Unfortunately, there's nothing anyone can do in that matter," she stated, and then sighed slightly, continuing. "I found out that my sister-in-law and long-time friend passed away yesterday morning."

Scorpius didn't know what to say. It truly was a situation where he couldn't do anything – one of those final matters over which no one had control. So, he simply looked to the side and nodded. He seriously wondered what had come over him to even bring up the topic. McGonagall certainly didn't seem like she wanted to talk about it, especially considering how focused she was on their current lesson. She simply didn't want to think about the death of a loved one.

"Maybe I should go," Scorpius suggested, tucking his wand into his pocket and getting up from the chair. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to overstep."

McGonagall looked at him in her usual gentle way. She always looked at him like that when he mustered the words of honesty.

"You don't need to apologize," she said and then forced a slight smile, which, however, was visibly strained. "At my age, you tend to visit cemeteries more often than wedding halls."

Scorpius also tried to smile, but suddenly he thought about how one day he would have to attend her funeral, and he felt even worse. He knew he wasn't the only one who held McGonagall in immense respect, but their shared lessons and what she had done for him in the past made him feel a special attachment to her. That's why it was difficult to watch that unyielding woman appearing downcast and sad, even if she tried not to show it.

He said his goodbyes and left the office. When the door closed behind him with a soft creak, he paused halfway and hesitated. Was it the right thing to do? Theoretically, it was none of his business, but on the other hand, did it not look like he ran away? In truth, that's exactly how he felt. Irritated by his behaviour, he turned back and opened the door again.

When he peeked inside, he saw that McGonagall still sat in her armchair, but her eyes were closed, and her glasses were on her desk. She only looked at him after a while, and a wrinkle of concern was evident on her forehead.

"I know that funerals aren't pleasant, so maybe you could use some company, professor?" Scorpius suggested.

For a moment, the Headmaster appeared genuinely surprised, and then she finally smiled effortlessly.

"Thank you, Scorpius, that would be appreciated."

Scorpius adjusted his tie and fastened the cuffs of his shirt. He had chosen to wear his formal robes, which had last been worn at the beginning of the school year. In truth, he didn't know what else to wear, but he couldn't help feeling somewhat out of place in that attire. He also knew he would attract attention, but luckily, most of the students were currently at lunch. He didn't anticipate any issues explaining his absence, especially since the Headmaster had specifically requested his presence at the main gate of Hogwarts at four in the afternoon.

Knowing that he didn't have much time left, he cast one last glance at his reflection in the mirror. Satisfied that everything was in order, he left the room. As he approached the gate, he could already see McGonagall's silhouette in the distance. She appeared almost normal in her black robe and her characteristic hat, except for the bouquet of purple lilies she held in her hand.

"Maybe I should take that?" Scorpius suggested as he got closer.

She nodded and handed him the bouquet. The flowers were fresh and still carried a strong scent.

"Ready?" she asked.

He hadn't thought about how they would reach the funeral location before, but then he quickly put the pieces together. There was a reason they met at the gate; that was where the school's Apparition barrier ended, and McGonagall was one of the few people at Hogwarts who could Apparate freely without restrictions.

Suddenly, he felt uncomfortably warm, but he nodded.

"Have you Apparated before?" she asked, noticing his unease.

Scorpius shook his head.

"Have you eaten lunch?"

"No."

"That's good. Let's go," she said and started walking toward the gate, which opened spontaneously.

Scorpius took a deep breath and followed her. He wasn't sure at which point they had crossed the barrier, but after a moment, McGonagall stopped and turned to face him.

"Take me by the arm and close your eyes; it will make it easier," she instructed.

Without hesitation, he followed her command, and suddenly, he felt something violently yank at his insides. It twisted and turned. For a moment, he fought the temptation to open his eyes, but he had an innate feeling that it wouldn't end well. Just as dizziness overwhelmed him, he felt the solid ground under his feet once more.

He was grateful that he still held onto McGonagall's arm, or he might have fallen over.

"Three deep breaths and you can open your eyes," he heard her say.

Breathing steadily, he felt the dizziness subside, and when he eventually looked ahead, the world no longer spun as wildly as he had feared. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't as bad as he'd imagined. Communication via the Floo Network was certainly no more comfortable.

Scorpius glanced around and saw that they were on the outskirts of a small village. Based on the architecture and the complicated street names, he guessed it was likely in Scotland. The landscape was gently hilly, mostly covered in grassy meadows. Definitely Scotland.

Not far away, amidst low wooden houses, a slightly larger building with a bell tower stood out. A small, stone-walled cemetery surrounded the church. Dozens of people, clearly witches and wizards, stood near the entrance. Most were elderly, and Scorpius didn't recognize any familiar faces among them.

However, as they approached, a few women stepped forward and began to greet Professor McGonagall with unexpected warmth while also inquiring about her young companion.

"That is my student, Scorpius. He was kind enough to offer me support on that difficult day," the Headmaster explained, and Scorpius wondered if she had deliberately omitted his last name, which was quite well-known.

For a moment, Scorpius became the centre of attention for the witches, who looked at him intently, nodded, and exchanged comments as women of their age tend to do. He quickly sensed growing irritation in McGonagall's demeanour as she continued to deal with their behaviour. Finally, she slightly shook her head, and they headed towards the chapel together.

Inside the chapel, a small pedestal held the casket, surrounded by numerous flowers, with a framed photograph of the deceased. The photograph depicted a kindly-looking elderly lady with her silver, curly hair, a face marked by numerous wrinkles, and bright, gentle, yet wise eyes.

"She looks like a nice person," Scorpius commented as he added his bouquet of lilies to the others.

"And she was. Very warm and kind-hearted. I owe her a great deal," McGonagall replied.

Scorpius glanced at McGonagall from the corner of his eye. He didn't intend to pry for details, accepting what she chose to share. However, the pain etched on her face strongly suggested that the person whose photo lay before them held significant importance to her, even if they weren't bound by blood.

A brief ceremony began, with various people speaking about the deceased. Scorpius wasn't especially attentive, since most of the stories concerned events from the distant past. He was almost certain that at some point, McGonagall would speak as well, but when he looked her way, he saw her lips tightly sealed. He realized she was struggling with her growing emotions. Unsure of how to help, he stood silently by, observing both the Headmaster and the proceedings.

Eventually, the mourners finished speaking, and the gravediggers took the casket to lay it to rest at the very end of the cemetery, just beneath the wall. Others followed, throwing flowers into the open grave. It all took no more than fifteen minutes, and in the end, Samantha Urquart, as Scorpius had learned, rested in her final resting place.

As the other mourners slowly left the cemetery, only the closest family of the deceased, McGonagall, and Scorpius remained. The Headmaster continued to gaze at the flower-covered grave for a long time, and then she pulled a handkerchief from her robe pocket, wiping her eyes, though Scorpius hadn't seen her cry.

"I hope you're not in a hurry to return; I'd like to visit one more grave," she finally said, her eyes still focused on the flowers on Mrs Urquart's grave.

Scorpius shrugged and shook his head. Seeing his reaction, McGonagall walked along the path, shaded by the sprawling oak tree, to a part of the cemetery where the graves were much older, with many of them neglected and left to their own devices. After a while, they stopped at one that was still well-maintained, and its panel was fully readable.

Elphinstone Urquart

Passed away in 1985

Beloved husband and brother

Seeing that, Scorpius didn't need much explanation. Since Samantha Urquart was McGonagall's sister-in-law, her husband must undoubtedly rest in that grave. Scorpius felt embarrassed to admit it, but he had always thought of the Headmaster as an old maid. It was difficult for him to imagine her as a young, lovestruck girl who got married and started a family with someone. He wondered what kind of person the man in that grave was, to have won McGonagall's favour. Scorpius did not doubt that he must have been an extraordinary person.

McGonagall drew her wand and with a brief wave of her hand, cleared a few oak leaves that had fallen onto the grave. Then she conjured a single rose on the headstone, tied with a black ribbon.

"You won't be alone anymore, Elphin," she spoke towards the grave and then turned to Scorpius. "They were always close as siblings, always supporting each other. I think they deserve to meet again after all these years."

Scorpius looked at the date on the tombstone again. More than thirty-five years. For someone his age, it felt like an eternity.

"What was he like?" he asked, before realizing it was a rather nosy question.

McGonagall, however, didn't seem offended. On the contrary, a faint smile appeared on her face.

"He was a very decent man who abhorred even the smallest form of deceit. Always honest, and he won people over with his sincerity. I met him when I was still working at the Ministry, and more than anything else, it was his honesty that impressed me. In those days, it wasn't any better than it is now, and there were always people willing to do terrible things to achieve their goals. His unwavering commitment to the truth was a true sign of courage and heroism."

Whether he wanted to or not, Scorpius felt a strange twinge of emotion at these words. In his way, he was the complete opposite of those qualities. Moreover, he had never considered these characteristics as flaws. He always believed that cunning and the ability to manipulate or bend reality were valuable and useful skills. He saw honesty and truthfulness as weaknesses rather than acts of bravery.

It was intriguing that McGonagall seemed to like him despite their differing views on the matter. From her perspective, he fell into the category of a coward and a deceiver.

"A bit like Albus. He also hates lying," Scorpius remarked, and after a moment, he added, "unlike some others."

"Are you referring to yourself or someone else?" McGonagall asked.

"Mainly myself, although I know many liars."

The Headmaster nodded slightly.

"The world would be a better place if more people believed in honesty and truth. If we could trust each other."

What could he say to that? How much time had he needed to begin trusting the small handful of people around him? From the rest, he expected more blows than honesty. He was certainly not built for trust.

"But does it come easy to everyone? Some have been burned too many times," he replied.

"But is that a reason to stop trying?" she asked, looking at him significantly.

It appeared that she never completely left her role as a teacher, even standing in that small cemetery, next to her long-deceased husband's grave. Regardless of the circumstances, she still taught him.

Scorpius shrugged. In the end, he continued to try, even if everything opposed it. And he could only hope he wouldn't regret it. After all, without the trust he placed in the Headmaster, he wouldn't be where he was.

McGonagall nodded, and the two of them began making their way toward the cemetery's exit. Scorpius was mentally preparing for another teleportation when, unexpectedly, the Headmaster asked while looking at him:

"Are you hungry?"

Scorpius couldn't hide his surprise at the question.

"If my memory serves me right, there's a small café just two streets from here," she continued, and seeing his bewildered expression, she added, "It's not safe to Apparate when you're under strong emotions. I wouldn't want you to splinch."

Honestly, he didn't know what splinching looked like after Apparating, but it sounded gruesome enough for him to quickly nod in agreement.

The town wasn't large, and they soon found themselves in the centre, where the town hall, a market, a few shops, a bank, and the mentioned café were located. When they took a seat at one of the tables in the garden, Scorpius thought that, if not for the complete absence of physical resemblance, they looked like a grandmother who had taken her grandson out for ice cream. He had to put in a great deal of effort to stifle a laugh at the thought.

McGonagall ordered green tea and cheesecake, while Scorpius went for chocolate cake and orange juice.

"It's quite nice here," he remarked finally, feeling the need to say something. "Did you live here?"

The Headmaster placed her teacup down and continued to survey the square.

"For a few months after Elphin's death."

Scorpius inwardly cringed. He should bite his tongue instead of making remarks that brought back painful memories. But McGonagall didn't seem to mind, and she went on.

"Samantha helped me a lot during that time. She was an incredible support, even though she had just lost her brother so unexpectedly. The two of us supported each other during that time. Later, Albus, I mean, Professor Dumbledore, proposed to me a place at Hogwarts. After that, I only came here to visit."

Scorpius smiled slightly.

"I know it might sound silly, but it's really hard for me to imagine you as a freshly minted teacher. It's even harder to imagine that you did something else before."

Upon hearing that, McGonagall's face lost its melancholic expression.

"Well, I wasn't always old," she replied with a hint of amusement.

Scorpius began enjoying the cake, which, as the waitress had described, melted in his mouth with a pleasant almond taste.

"Have you ever considered getting married again?" he continued, increasingly aware that that conversation was doing wonders for the Headmaster's mood. He had never expected to be in a similar role. He usually went to McGonagall when he had problems, not the other way around. She would never burden him with her worries, of which she must have had many. However, at the moment, he was there, and if he could help in any way, he intended to do so.

For a longer moment, McGonagall fell silent, as if considering what to say. Finally, she took another sip of tea and replied hesitantly:

"I suppose I was scared. Elphin and I were married for a very short time, not even three years. Then he died due to a tragic accident at work. It was a shock and a terrible blow. I never considered another marriage afterwards, out of fear that it might happen again. It's irrational, of course, but such fears are difficult to quell."

Scorpius looked at the Headmaster seriously. He didn't know yet what it felt like to lose a loved one, and he hoped never to find out. Still, he understood that such an experience would leave a lasting mark. Everything he had been through over the past few years had also left its imprint on his character, so it should come as no surprise that the same was true for McGonagall.

He finally nodded in understanding and fixed his gaze on the half-eaten cake.

"That place brings back memories," the Headmaster said unexpectedly. "Contrary to what you might think, not just the bad ones. Most of them make up the most beautiful years of my life. That's what I try to remember. It's not worth dwelling on tragedies; it won't change anything but only sinks a person deeper."

"It's not easy. I tend to break down every failure into its components," he admitted, struggling to force a smile. He wanted to sound light, but it just didn't come out that way.

"That skill comes with age. All you need to do is realize that every misstep is just a short moment in your life. Painful, but as fleeting as everything else. By dwelling on it, you only prolong its duration because it won't change anything. The only thing worthy of doing is to draw conclusions."

"Oh! I'm excellent at that," he exclaimed, that time managing a genuine smile. "It's just a shame that the conclusions I usually draw end up landing me in even bigger trouble."

"That's a valuable lesson too," she responded. "Although I admit, sometimes you could think twice about the conclusions you reach. You'd save yourself problems and me worries."

All these strange and harrowing situations he had found himself in over the past few years suddenly returned to him like a bad omen. Had he learned from them? Certainly. Would he avoid making the same mistakes? He seriously doubted it. In the end, he was still an overly clever Slytherin who couldn't keep his tongue in check. And that probably would never change.

"I'm afraid you have too high expectations of me in that regard. After all, getting into trouble is my speciality."

"And here I thought your speciality was advanced practical magic."

"As you can see, professor, I have many talents."

One goal he had achieved for sure. McGonagall looked at him again with that familiar, gentle look, at last completely devoid of melancholy.

"I'd much rather you develop the latter one. Someday, you'll be a great wizard if you keep following that path."

Scorpius was visibly flustered hearing these words. McGonagall rarely praised his abilities so openly. Although he knew she appreciated his efforts, she had made it clear many times.

"It wouldn't have been possible without your help," he said, then added with some hesitation, "I don't think I've ever thanked you properly for what you've done for me. For everything."

"You don't have to thank me," she interjected. "The fact that you're here with me today means more to me than any words."

Scorpius shrugged. "I try to do what's right. It doesn't always work out as planned, but it's good that at least today it was useful for something," he added with a smile.

They spent another half an hour in the cafe, talking about the school and Mrs Urquart. Eventually, the sky started to cloud over, and the chilly wind began tugging at the umbrellas in the outdoor seating area.

"I think it's time we headed back," McGonagall said, looking up at the sky. "Poppy wouldn't be pleased if you caught a cold because of me."

Scorpius couldn't help but roll his eyes. At the moment, she sounded like his grandma.

"I'm not made of sugar, although after that cake, I might be a bit sugar-coated," he replied.

McGonagall laughed, paid the bill, and then they headed outside. They walked a bit off the main path, where no one could see what they were doing. When Scorpius grabbed the woman's arm, he felt that unpleasant tug again. Once again, he was twisted and turned, and he prayed only that the cake would stay in place. A moment later, he saw the gates of Hogwarts before him.

"I don't think I'll miss that," Scorpius muttered.

He might have opened his eyes too quickly because the world around him began to spin dangerously. He took a few deep breaths, and the unsettling sensation subsided.

Suddenly, Scorpius felt McGonagall's hand on his shoulder. He looked at her and saw a strange expression on her face.

"Thank you, Scorpius."

He truly didn't know how to respond, so he just nodded.

"Despite the stumbles, you've grown into a wonderful man. Never let anyone tell you otherwise."

Scorpius felt a heat on his face. With his fair complexion, he felt like a beetroot. He glanced to the side, not knowing where to direct his gaze.

"I wouldn't have achieved that on my own," he finally replied, although his mouth felt strangely dry.

"You're not alone, you never were. You just needed time to realize that."

Scorpius nodded. Under different circumstances, he would have hugged the woman standing in front of him. But she was still McGonagall, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the person who had influenced his life more than anyone else. He wouldn't be there, and he wouldn't be who he was if not for her actions.

"Thank you for everything," he said.

McGonagall smiled, nodded, and then they walked together toward the school.