The Great Hall seemed to fly away, become smaller, shrink, as Harry reeled backward from the doorway. He could not draw breath. He could not bear to look at any of the other bodies, to see who else had died for him. He could not bear to join the Weasleys, could not look into their eyes, when if he had given himself up in the first place, Fred might never have died.
(C23 – Deathly Hallows)
It was feeling like the world had slipped away. He had caused all this. He came to Hogwarts looking for the horcrux, and he brought an entire army with him.
He needed to get out of here, away from everyone.
"Harry," said a familiar voice behind him.
Harry knew that voice. Professor McGonagall laid a hand on his shoulder. He turned his gaze to the hand that held his shoulder.
"Are you alright?"
"Fine," lied Harry.
"No, you're not," she said. "Come with me."
Harry had no choice but to follow. His professor had a firm grip on his shoulder and steered him towards the front of the Great Hall. Harry was led into a small lounge room. The room was always locked to students and an alarm would be sent to all teachers. Some students had found out through trial and error.
There were squishy armchairs. A couple of globes, and several portraits of past professors.
"Sit down, Potter."
Harry did so.
"You are not going out there," scowled Professor McGonagall. "And don't say you're not. I have seen that look on Albus' face enough to know what you are thinking."
"I have caused enough trouble," roared Harry. "I led them here."
"They would have come here sooner or later," scowled the woman. "This is a war. I have seen my fair share of students dying since the first war. People I fought beside since before you were born. What makes you think you were the difference?"
"I'm the one who brought him back three years ago," screamed Harry. "I might as well take him out since I brought him back. And I will before anyone else tries to die for me."
It happened so suddenly. Professor McGonagall gave him a slap before sitting him down.
"In what way, Mr. Potter," she asked, nostrils flaring. "Are any of them dying for you out there?"
"I have fought in war before Harry," she said morosely. "War is ugly, brutal, unforgiving. I sacrificed myself in all my encounters on the battlefield. But I didn't sacrifice myself for one person. I sacrificed myself so I could try and bring help to a world that needed help. I was not going to lay down and let that that bastard win. That's what the rest out there are fighting for. They are fighting for their freedom, fighting for their families, fighting for their friends. Why? Because they want to live in a world of peace. A world where they can raise children."
"I'm fighting today not just for you," she continued. "But for all my students, both former and current. It is not all about you, or was Severus correct in his assessment that you are an arrogant brat."
Fury welled up inside Harry. He needed to see the memories that Snape had given him, but now he wasn't sure.
"Snape's dead," growled Harry. "Voldemort killed him before I arrived. His carcass is in the boat house. He gave me these memories Professor."
He pulled out the vial he had on him.
"If he was in his last moments," said the Professor. "Maybe it's ammunition against Voldemort he planned in case he was killed."
Harry looked at the vial.
"Come on, let's go," said the woman. "And by the way, stop calling me Professor. You've now earned the right to call me Minerva."
As she led him out of hall away from the bodies of the fallen, Harry couldn't help but think about Professor -Harry shook his head- about Minerva's words.
That's what the rest out there are fighting for. They are fighting for their freedom, fighting for their families, fighting for their friends. Why? Because they want to live in a world of peace. A world where they can raise children.
It was not about him. It was never about him. Why couldn't he ever see that?
He wasn't someone to agree with Severus Snape. But he knew that Snape was correct. He was arrogant and self-centred.
He was glad that the teacher he respected most talked to him about his near suicidal bravery.
However, once he saw the memories he changed his mind. Minerva had let him be in the room himself. He needed to end this now.
The next afternoon, a few hours later after the battle had ended he found his shoulder gripped again and he was led back to the Headmistress' office.
"Care to explain this, Potter," she scowled, pointing at the Pensieve.
Harry blanched. He should have taken the memory out when he was done.
"Do you not see what Albus did?" she growled. "He didn't even deny it when Severus accused him of raising a pig for slaughter."
"He knew what was best," said Harry feebly.
"By having you walk up to Voldemort yourself and sacrificing yourself," growled Minerva. "He raised you to be his little child soldier. Ready to fight for him on a whim. He should have taken care of Voldemort himself. Clearly he believed too much in the Prophecy. I have the right mind to kill Sybil right now for what she's done to your parents."
"I'm going to say this again since it didn't get through last time," growled Minerva. She grasped his shoulders and shook him. "Stop blaming yourself. Do you even see what Albus has done? I can see it as clear as day in those memories. He never cared for you. He only cared about ending Voldemort, no matter the cost."
And that was enough for Harry. He broke down on the spot. He had spent a good bit of the horcrux hunt doubting Dumbledore, but now the dam burst, and he let all his frustrations about Dumbledore came out. Although he had tried forgiving Dumbledore leaving him at the Dursley's, he honestly hated that decision. He would never forgive Dumbledore for leaving him there again.
"You're right Professor," mumbled Harry. "I'm just a child soldier. An expendable one at that."
"What you are, Harry," she said. "Is a fine young man. And I am so happy you are standing here before me alive."
"I heard you scream when Hagrid brought me back," said Harry. "And I must say, I was not expecting such a sound to come from you. And thank you. I really should have come to you more often during my Hogwarts career."
"And me too," she smiled at him. "Now go be with your friends. I doubt you want to spend the whole day with this old lady."
"You're not old Professor," said Harry, deciding to pay her a compliment for the first time. "You're young."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "You didn't do your homework, did you Harry?" she asked.
Harry could see the laughter and warmth in her eyes. "No Minerva."
She shooed him out with a wave of her hand.
2024
Harry sat there in front of the headstone for what seemed like hours, depressed and angry that he was here, seeing the name that was etched there.
MINERVA MCGONAGALL
Born 4 October 1935
Died 27 September 2024
Always Loved, Never Forgotten
The woman had become more than just a teacher after he left Hogwarts, A confidante, an advisor and something else that she was incredibly proud of.
"Dad, I thought I would find you here."
Harry looked at his daughter.
"I just miss her Minnie," he said lovingly.
"I do as well," said Minnie. "I wish I had known her for longer. But I'm glad I got to know her for as long as I did. She was a great godmother."
Harry looked back at the grave. Despite being honored with so much, Minerva McGonagall had always been most honored that Harry and his wife named their daughter after her, and even more so when they asked her to be godmother.
"I'd say Death himself was scared himself when he met her," smiled Minnie. "She was great, but terrifying."
Harry smiled. He knew that to be true.
IlIlI
"I need a drink," said Death as they sat down.
"Why?" asked Death's sycophant.
"I just came from the death of Minerva McGonagall."
"I'll get you five whiskeys," said the sycophant.
"Make it ten."
If there was one thing Death hated, it was dealing with sassy, sharp-tongued old ladies. Especially ladies like Minerva McGonagall.
Even the Peverell brothers weren't this bothersome, Death thought, as Death sipped on some whiskey. Minerva McGonagall was a force to be reckoned with.
AN: I just had to do a tribute to Maggie Smith. One of the greatest actresses of all time, both stage and film. She always very much reminded me of my own late grandmother. She was as sharp as Maggie/Minerva and didn't suffer fools. But once you had her friendship you were her friend for life, provided you behaved yourself. Maggie Smith just breathed life into Minerva McGonagall, she captured the character better than any other Harry Potter actor with their own character. If there's one thing that made me laugh: it's that Chris Columbus, director of the first two Harry Potter films, was absolutely terrified of her. Daniel Radcliffe was always sent to get her because he wasn't scared. He said that Maggie Smith got him the role in Harry Potter years ago since they worked together on David Copperfield. It's thanks to her we got Daniel Radcliffe as Harry. I had this one-shot story idea last Christmas, but I thought yesterday it was the right time to write and publish it.
Rest In Peace Maggie