Time is ticking by - we're slowly inching our way until the final battle. I hope you are enjoying the story so far :)

20 March 1998

Over the course of the next few weeks, since she had hidden Longbottom in the Room of Requirements, Minerva had noticed that her class size had dwindled. She was not the only teacher to have experienced this, and now, almost a month since Longbottom had gone, she and her colleagues found themselves teaching only a handful of students a day.

It had not taken long for Minerva to realise where the mysteriously vanished children had gone. At first, she had been filled with dread thinking that they had been taken away by the Carrows for questioning. It had happened once to a seventh year. Mercifully, he had been much underestimated and had escaped through Hogsmeade before the restrictions on disapparition had been put into place several weeks ago now. Minerva had not heard from the boy since, however, Aberforth had confirmed that the boy was alive and well.

However, as soon as she realised that the Carrows were as much at a loss as she was about the mysterious disappearances of students, Minerva had suspected that most, if not all, had joined Neville Longbottom in the Room of Requirements. Her suspicions had been confirmed when she had found a handwritten note on her desk one morning explaining the situation. She had recognised the writing to be Longbottom's. Though she had been tempted to visit the Room herself to confirm what the note had told her, Minerva had found herself unable to enter the Room.

A day before Parvati Patil had disappeared too, the girl had explained that the entrance to the specific room Neville was hiding in had been designed to block any Hogwarts Professor from entering. It was to protect themselves from the Carrows, Parvati had explained, as they had not found a way to allow the Room to discriminate between teachers yet.

Thus, Minerva was now left to worry about the handful of students she taught each day, while simultaneously worrying about her students who were now hiding in the Room of Requirements. She supposed that she only had herself to blame. She had been the one to suggest that Neville Longbottom should use the Room and now he had, along with several others.

Aberforth had not yet managed to make use of the tunnel connecting the Room and Requirements with his pub. No one could come into Hogsmeade and no one could leave — supposedly. For the time being, everyone was trapped just where they were.

Minerva sighed and sat down in her armchair by the fire. For the first time, in a long time, she felt almost indescribably tired and old and weary. As she contemplated the possibility of going to bed, and whether or not she would successfully fall asleep, Minerva was saved from her conundrum by a gentle knock on her door.

"It's me," came Pomona's quiet voice from outside.

Minerva got up and opened the door. "Has something happened?"

"Not really. I just wanted to see you," Pomona said, catching Minerva's eye. "Do you have time to speak to an old friend?"

All at once Minerva felt a rush of gratitude towards Pomona. She tried to smile and nodded. "Always, dear," she promised. "Do come inside. I can make us some tea."

Pomona hurried in and closed the door behind her. For a few moments, there was only silence in Minerva's small living room. Minerva boiled some water and rooted for the teabags while Pomona helped find two mugs. Once the tea things had been assembled, Minerva and Pomona picked their seats beside the crackling fire and sat down.

"Ernie MacMillan has gone," Pomona finally said. "Not that I am entirely surprised. He is probably safer there than out here - given his latest attempt to stand up to those Carrows in class."

Minerva nodded silently. She folded her legs and took a sip of her tea.

"Minerva—"

"Did you know that they are having the students practice the Cruciatus Curse?" Minerva cut in quietly. "In class. On each other. I only found out today when I was walking past their classroom. Apparently, it has been happening for weeks but none of the students said anything because they feared something would happen to us if they did. They feared that we would try to protect them and would be punished because of it." She paused. "I have never—Do you know, I have never wished so ill on a person in my life."

Pomona pressed her lips together. "You are not the only one, Minerva," she said. "Sometimes when I have my class in the greenhouses, I wonder what would happen if I just locked all the doors. I think about how long could we stay there for and how long we would need to, and whether or not we could hold Amycus and Alecto off?"

"It is not the brother and sister that you would need to be wary of," Minerva said. She sighed. "I wonder if it would not be a good idea for us all to go into the Room of Requirements," she said. "We travel through the tunnel to meet Aberforth and then leave through Hogsmeade."

"But there are still the anti-apparition spells," Pomona reminded her. "Not that they would be difficult to take down," she conceded, "but we would be caught in a matter of seconds."

"We could hold them off for a few moments."

"And give the students some time?" Pomona shook her head. "Some are just children, Minerva. Hardly any of them know how to disapparate. Besides, we may be experienced witches and wizards, dear, but we would not be able to hold off an entire village. I hear Hogsmeade is teeming with Death Eaters because they believe Potter will return soon."

Minerva sighed and cupped her fingers around her steaming mug sitting on her lap. "That does not make any sense," she said. "Why would Potter return? I should think he would stay well away if he knows what is best for him."

"Hm," Pomona agreed. She sipped her tea, then slowly placed it on the coffee table and looked at Minerva. "This morning..." she began.

Minerva waved her hand. "I would rather not discuss it right now, Pomona," she said. "I—I repaired it and that is all that matters."

"I am glad," Pomona said. She hesitated, shook her head and then, finally coming to a decision, ploughed on. "But there is something else I thought you ought to know. I was speaking with Irma this evening before I came here. She has been quite ill, rheumatism I think, poor dear," Pomona said. "Anyway, she told me that on her way to see Poppy at around midnight or so, she saw—erm—the person who might have done what was done to Albus' r—resting place."

Though Minerva had initially not wanted to discuss the defacement of Albus' grave, Pomona's last words made her instantly look up. "And?" she asked cautiously.

Pomona was silent for a moment and was seemingly considering whether or not she had made the right choice to bring up this topic now. "Irma saw—him—You-Know-Who—on the grounds. She said she nearly fell down the stairs when she noticed who it was walking up to the castle."

Minerva blanched and she covered her mouth with her hand. "He came here—on castle grounds in the middle of the night when we were all asleep! And the students—He didn't come inside the castle did he?"

"No—no he did not," Pomona said quickly. "Severus met him outside at the door and sort of stopped him—or blocked him—Irma said it was quite strange. Severus spoke with him, and then You-Know-Who left."

Minerva looked out of the window. It was dark outside - so much so that she could barely see the Quidditch goalposts. But the sun was due to rise in an hour.

"I don't understand," she said. She stood up abruptly and walked to the window. "Why was he here? Why would he do that to Albus—was it not enough to have him—" she broke off suddenly, unable to voice the words 'killed'. "I don't understand. Why would he need to commit such an act after all that has happened?"

"I don't know, Minerva. Really I don't."

Minerva tapped her fingers nervously on the window sill.

"Did Irma hear what the two of them spoke about?" she asked.

Pomona shook her head. "No. She left to see Poppy. Poppy came to see me and then—well, you know the rest... I came to see you."

Minerva heard Pomona stand up and, a moment later, she felt Pomona's arm wrap around her shoulders.

"I am as much at a loss as you are, dear," Pomona said. "Did Albus have anything with him when he was—buried? Had he specified at some point, if he wanted anything to be kept with him?"

Minerva shook her head. "No," she said, and she noticed her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat and shook her head once more. "No, he had not. He never mentioned anything to me before he—it happened. He did not have anything with him. Nothing unusual at least. The only item he had with him was his wand."

There was a small but significant pause after Minerva had uttered these words. Both witches tensed, and then they looked at each other at the same time.

"No—"

"—He couldn't have—"

"—that does not make any sense, Pomona," Minerva finished tersely. She walked away again and sat down in her armchair, her back completely straight and stiff.

Pomona returned to her own seat. "Unless it does," she said quietly. "Albus was incredibly powerful and fought You-Know-Who several times before. Perhaps You-Know-Who believes that some of that power resided in the wand?"

Minerva pursed her lips so tightly together that they went completely white. "Preposterous! That's ridiculous," she snapped. "Albus was a powerful wizard in his own right—no matter which wand he used."

"I am not denying that, Minerva. But from You-Know-Who's perspective, perhaps..." Pomona trailed away, nervously rubbing her hands together. "Or perhaps You-Know-Who did not take anything," she backtracked. "He must have had his own perverse reasons for doing such a thing.

Minerva was silent. All at once, she wanted to disapparate to a quiet place, away from the school, from everyone in it. She wished to travel to someplace where Voldemort's name meant nothing at all to those who inhabited the area.

She needed time to think.

In the last several months, she did not think she had ever taken more than 10 minutes to think about anything other than immediate problems regarding students' safety, or the safety of her colleagues. It was exhausting, and Minerva felt completely and absolutely drained.

"Well," she said eventually, "I am not going to check to see what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has done, or not done."

"I know. I wasn't suggesting that someone should," Pomona replied quietly.

Minerva looked at her hands, folded on her lap. "Is Irma all right?" she said.

"She's in quite a lot of pain at the moment. Poppy's advised her to get a student to help her with that book move she had planned for the library. It can't be done by magic, mainly because Irma is terrified that something will go wrong and a book, or manuscript, will get damaged."

Minerva smiled slightly. "Mm," she said, mildly amused at this very Irma-like behaviour. "I suppose those manuscripts are rare."

"And neither of us are librarians, so we are in no place to judge," Pomona added, catching Minerva's eye.

"Quite."

Pomona became serious once more. She reached out to hold Minerva's hand. She meant to say 'are you all right?' - Minerva could tell the words were on the tip of Pomona's tongue. Yet, she stopped herself and cleared her throat instead. "I should leave you to get some rest, Minerva," she said. "It's late, and I've been keeping you up far too often."

"Nonsense," Minerva gently admonished her. "I enjoy your company, dear."

Pomona smiled, got up, and then kissed Minerva lightly on the cheek. "Well, that's a relief," she said. She made a move to leave but seemed hesitant. Minerva could guess why.

"I was going to make myself some more tea," she said quickly. "You are most welcome to join me."

Surprise and then relief flooded Pomona's features. Her shoulders relaxed and she let out a breath she appeared to have been holding for some time. "Oh, really?"

"I would not have suggested it if I did not want to," Minerva replied smoothly.

Pomona came back to her chair and eased herself down onto the cushion. "Thank you," she said, sincerely. "

"You can stay here if you like. You can take the bedroom and I'll—"

"Oh no, I wouldn't dream of it," Pomona said hurriedly. She looked indecisive for a mere second, before seemingly coming around to Minerva's suggestion. "I can take the armchair."

"You will not be very comfortable, dear."

Pomona smiled slightly. "You forget that I am very well trained, Minerva. When Grace was a baby she would wake several times throughout the night. She would only fall back asleep if I gently rocked her while sitting in my rocking chair in the living room. I blame Elphinstone, you know. You looked after Grace one evening when Albert and I went out for dinner."

Minerva smiled a little too as she recalled the memory. As she pictured Elphinstone sitting opposite her that evening with Grace on her lap, Minerva's smile faded slightly. She swallowed and tried to ignore the old but familiar pain in her heart that resurfaced whenever Elphinstone's name was brought up in conversation.

"Ah, yes," she said eventually. "Yes, I had forgotten..." She breathed out and tried to push Elphinstone out of her mind. "Blankets," she said suddenly. "I will bring you a cushion and some blankets."

She went to a wardrobe in the corner of the room, kissing Pomona's cheek as she went past. "The pillows are in the cabinet in my room," she said