Fic: "Standing" for twisting_path
Err.. did anyone see the subject line hehehe? *iz 10*
Title: Standing
Author: remarked
Recipient: twisting_path
Rating: PG-13
Character: Minerva McGonagall
Warnings: Angst, character death
Summary: This is the war that Minerva was not prepared to fight. In the aftermath of Albus Dumbledore's death, Minerva McGonagall finds that taking his place is more difficult than she thought.
Author's notes: I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I did writing it, twisting_path! Information on Dumbledore, his office, and its former occupants is from here. The title comes from the BtVS epsiode Once More With Feeling. Many thanks to pixystick for not only helping me with research and looking this over, but for all her encouragement and hand holding! ♥
Standing
The office is as bright and warm as it ever was, and Minerva has to force herself to step inside. She walks briskly across the length, eyes lingering on a vast array of silver trinkets that adorn the width of every table, and tries to ignore the eyes staring down at her from the wall.
She stops at the desk, claw-footed and large, and spends what seems like forever digging through pile after pile of papers - he'd never been any good at organization - and it's only when she finds a handful of parchment, yellowed and curling, that has something about Potter and You-Know-Who scribbled hastily at the top that she stops. It's important, she tells herself as she grabs it. If he died for it, then it must be.
"It's been nearly two months," a voice says finally. Startled, Minerva looks up to see Dilys Derwent looking down at her with something akin to pity in her eyes. "Don't you think it's time to move on?"
"I have." She knows that what she really means is, I can't.
"Of course," Armando Dippet offers agreeably. "It's not at all the reason why you haven't stepped foot in here since it happened."
Minerva scowls and wonders briefly if Albus would be upset with her if she were to set fire to those blasted portraits. Making her way over again across the room, the thought is almost immediately followed by one of immense pain when she remembers that he isn't here to stop her, to scold her, to guide her.
It is that last thought that scares her the most.
She takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself as she grabs Gryffindor's sword and adds it to the growing pile of items in her arms. She only has to grab one more thing, and then she can leave. It is with that thought that she makes her way back behind his desk and reaches up to pull the Sorting Hat down from the shelf.
She's nearly to the door when another, more familiar voice breaks the silence. Truthfully, Minerva is surprised that he managed to keep quiet for this long. "This is your office now, you know," Phineas Nigellus says loudly, and Minerva can practically feel him staring down at her.
"It isn't," she replies softly as she turns around to stare back at him for a moment. "It's not," she repeats as she closes the door behind her, "and it never will be."
Tapping her wand once against the oak, she thinks that maybe she can hear them yelling as the door turns to stone. She shuts her eyes for a moment in an attempt to block out the noise from within, but it doesn't help.
When she thinks she hears Albus's voice amongst the chatter, her step falters and she leans against the wall, resting her head against the cool stone. She knows that he's still asleep, that it will be days - if not weeks - before he wakes, but his voice whispers through her head all the same, a constant urging her to come back inside.
Minerva shakes her head, and forces herself to leave the office behind. She has places to be, and this isn't the time to linger in memories that she can't change.
::
"I have to do this," Potter says, eyes bright with determination.
"No," Weasley interrupts in a tone that leaves little room for discussion, "we have to do this." Beside him, Granger nods in agreement.
Gazing across the table at the three of them, Minerva feels a profound sense of something that she thinks is part pride, part pain. These are her children, she thinks desperately. These are her children, and they have grown before her eyes, becoming more cynical and weary by the day, waging a war that they should never have had to fight. "Are you absolutely sure that this is what you want to do?" she asks finally, and although she knows that they will say yes, there is a part of her that wants them to say no, wants to keep them sheltered.
She knows that this is not possible.
Potter looks as though he wants to say something, but Weasley beats him to it. "We're sure," he says firmly, giving Potter a look that clearly says, shut up and let us do the talking.
Potter and Weasley stare at each other for a moment, and Minerva realizes right away what's causing the tension between the three. It's Potter. He doesn't want Granger and Weasley to go along, doesn't want to put them in danger. There is a part of her that agrees with him, and she almost wants to forbid Granger and Weasley from leaving the school. As Headmistress, she has that power, but she can't. She won't, because she knows that Potter needs them. Their place is beside him. It always has been, and it always will be.
The silence that follows is long and awkward, and it's Minerva that breaks it. "Is there anything that you need?" she asks finally, raising her eyes up to them.
Granger looks thoughtfully at the other two for a moment, then turns her attention back to the Headmistress. "I think that there are some books we may need," she pauses, "books from the Restricted Section. I think they may be useful in helping us to locate and obtain the Horcruxes."
Minerva simply nods. "Anything else?"
Granger pauses for a long moment, as though she's not sure if she should continue. "I also suspect that perhaps the Sorting Hat could be of use. If we could just take -"
"Done."
If it weren't such a somber time, Minerva thinks that she'd find their reactions amusing. Granger and Weasley are surprised, and it's obvious that they both thought that they'd have to argue with her about it. Potter, on the other hand, simply leans back in his chair and casts suspicious looks in her direction. Minerva meets his gaze straight on, and the only thing she can think of is, take anything you need. Anything that can bring you back alive.
She can't lose anyone else.
::
"You just let them leave?" Molly shouts, anger clearly etched across her face, and Minerva finds herself staring at her in awe. It never ceases to amaze her that the woman can drown out Walburga Black's screaming with so little effort. "They could get killed! Did you stop to think about that?"
Minerva had been planning to simply ignore Molly, but as soon as the words leave the other woman's mouth, she's rising to her feet and staring her down. "You think I don't know that?" she snaps. "Of course I thought of it!" How dare she think that I don't care about them, she thinks to herself. Out loud she says, "I didn't have a choice."
"Of course you had a choice!" Molly shouts, standing as well. Beside her, Arthur shrinks in his seat, looking as though he wants to be anywhere but here. "There's always a choice, Minerva!"
"You're right," Minerva replies shortly, "and I made mine."
Filius looks up the two of them and raises a hand in an attempt to quiet them. "If I may just -"
"You made the wrong one!" Molly snarls, interrupting him.
Kingsley shakes his head. "You both need to calm -"
Minerva doesn't let him finish. "Harry can't do this without them!"
"This isn't just about Ron and Hermione!" Molly screams. "You shouldn't have told him he could go in the first place!"
"I believe in Albus," the Headmistress snaps, "and if he thought that Harry could do this, then so do I."
Molly falls silent at the mention of his name, then simply turns away, slamming the kitchen door behind her. Minerva doesn't stop to savor her victory. She's too busy thinking, Do I?
::
Remus looks tired, but there's still a spark, a warmth to him that Minerva has always found comforting. "I heard you got into an argument with Molly a few months ago," he says conversationally. "Tonks said that it was a miracle the two of you didn't try to kill each other."
"Did she now?" She replies dryly.
"Oh yes," Remus murmurs softly, eyeing her out of the corner of his eyes. "She told me that it got pretty nasty. Something about Harry?"
Minerva frowns suddenly. "Don't do that."
"Do what?" He's staring at her, an amused look on his face. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Tonks told you everything that happened," she observes, "you're just trying to get me to share my feelings and to talk about it so I won't be upset."
Remus gives a shrug and sets down his tea, but Minerva can see the twinkle in his brown eyes. It's vague, but it's there, and it reminds her strongly of him. "Perhaps," he says finally. "Is it working?"
"I," Minerva pauses, then shakes her head. "I didn't want to let them go, you know."
"I know."
She pauses again, then looks at him. "Do you think I did the right thing?"
He leans back in his chair and studies the table for a long moment. "I didn't want to go to Greyback," he says finally, "but I had to." He lifts his mug back up and when his sleeves bunch up, Minerva can see a pattern of red, swelling welts racing up and across his arms. Yes, she knows just how much he didn't want to go. "I think it's the same for Harry. He doesn't want to do this, but he feels like he has to. And it's the same for you - you didn't want to let him leave, but you had no choice. We both know that he would have gone anyway."
She sits quietly for a moment and thinks about what he said. "I want you to come back when this is over," she blurts out finally.
Remus shoots her a perplexed look. "Come back where?"
"Here," she says, waving her arms. "Come back to the school and teach."
He blinks stupidly for a moment, then a smile spreads across his face. "If you're sure you want a werewolf teaching your students."
"I can't think of anyone better," Minerva says sincerely, and it's true.
She can't.
::
The parchment feels heavy in her grasp, and Minerva suddenly stops breathing. A moment later she's practically running through the halls, as fast as she's run in years, and it only takes her a moment to get to her destination. The stone is cool and solid under her fingertips as she claws at it and when she rests her head against it, she thinks that she can hear them whispering within. I have to get in, she thinks desperately. Have to get in.
It takes her a moment to fumble for her wand, and when she taps it against the stone and watches it crumble beneath, there's an odd sort of satisfaction. A second later she's climbing the staircase and then she's there.
The office is cool and silent, the only light bits of silver that filter in through the window. As she walks towards the desk, Minerva realizes that it must be later than she thought, because most of the portraits are sleeping. She pauses, wonders if she should just come back later, and is just about to turn around when a voice speaks.
"Minerva," he says. Startled, she looks up and meets familiar twinkling blue eyes. "I feared that you had forgotten about me."
She swallows. "Albus, I -"
He studies her for a long moment. "Would you care for a lemon drop, my dear?" he asks softly. A moment later he chuckles to himself. "I regret, of course, that I can't give it to you myself. However, if you look in the top drawer of my desk you should find some there."
It wasn't very long ago when his antics would have driven Minerva mad with irritation. Now, they are a comfort, and she finds herself wishing that he would just keep talking. As she roots through the desk in an attempt to find the lemon drops, she looks up at him through red-rimmed eyes. "I killed them," she murmurs. "I killed them."
Albus shakes his head. "You had nothing to do with what happened to Mister Weasley and Miss Granger, Minerva."
She looks up, startled. "How did you -"
"It doesn't matter." He gives her a small smile. "What does matter is that they made their choice. No one could have stopped them. They went with Harry because they wanted to, Minerva. They died protecting their closest friend. We should be celebrating their lives, not mourning their deaths."
She shakes her head. "How did you do it?"
He doesn't have to ask what she means. "I'm afraid that there's no handbook, my dear. You have to stand on your own two feet, and go from there."
Minerva stares at him for a long moment. Standing, she thinks to herself.
She can do that.
Title: Standing
Author: remarked
Recipient: twisting_path
Rating: PG-13
Character: Minerva McGonagall
Warnings: Angst, character death
Summary: This is the war that Minerva was not prepared to fight. In the aftermath of Albus Dumbledore's death, Minerva McGonagall finds that taking his place is more difficult than she thought.
Author's notes: I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I did writing it, twisting_path! Information on Dumbledore, his office, and its former occupants is from here. The title comes from the BtVS epsiode Once More With Feeling. Many thanks to pixystick for not only helping me with research and looking this over, but for all her encouragement and hand holding! ♥
Standing
The office is as bright and warm as it ever was, and Minerva has to force herself to step inside. She walks briskly across the length, eyes lingering on a vast array of silver trinkets that adorn the width of every table, and tries to ignore the eyes staring down at her from the wall.
She stops at the desk, claw-footed and large, and spends what seems like forever digging through pile after pile of papers - he'd never been any good at organization - and it's only when she finds a handful of parchment, yellowed and curling, that has something about Potter and You-Know-Who scribbled hastily at the top that she stops. It's important, she tells herself as she grabs it. If he died for it, then it must be.
"It's been nearly two months," a voice says finally. Startled, Minerva looks up to see Dilys Derwent looking down at her with something akin to pity in her eyes. "Don't you think it's time to move on?"
"I have." She knows that what she really means is, I can't.
"Of course," Armando Dippet offers agreeably. "It's not at all the reason why you haven't stepped foot in here since it happened."
Minerva scowls and wonders briefly if Albus would be upset with her if she were to set fire to those blasted portraits. Making her way over again across the room, the thought is almost immediately followed by one of immense pain when she remembers that he isn't here to stop her, to scold her, to guide her.
It is that last thought that scares her the most.
She takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself as she grabs Gryffindor's sword and adds it to the growing pile of items in her arms. She only has to grab one more thing, and then she can leave. It is with that thought that she makes her way back behind his desk and reaches up to pull the Sorting Hat down from the shelf.
She's nearly to the door when another, more familiar voice breaks the silence. Truthfully, Minerva is surprised that he managed to keep quiet for this long. "This is your office now, you know," Phineas Nigellus says loudly, and Minerva can practically feel him staring down at her.
"It isn't," she replies softly as she turns around to stare back at him for a moment. "It's not," she repeats as she closes the door behind her, "and it never will be."
Tapping her wand once against the oak, she thinks that maybe she can hear them yelling as the door turns to stone. She shuts her eyes for a moment in an attempt to block out the noise from within, but it doesn't help.
When she thinks she hears Albus's voice amongst the chatter, her step falters and she leans against the wall, resting her head against the cool stone. She knows that he's still asleep, that it will be days - if not weeks - before he wakes, but his voice whispers through her head all the same, a constant urging her to come back inside.
Minerva shakes her head, and forces herself to leave the office behind. She has places to be, and this isn't the time to linger in memories that she can't change.
::
"I have to do this," Potter says, eyes bright with determination.
"No," Weasley interrupts in a tone that leaves little room for discussion, "we have to do this." Beside him, Granger nods in agreement.
Gazing across the table at the three of them, Minerva feels a profound sense of something that she thinks is part pride, part pain. These are her children, she thinks desperately. These are her children, and they have grown before her eyes, becoming more cynical and weary by the day, waging a war that they should never have had to fight. "Are you absolutely sure that this is what you want to do?" she asks finally, and although she knows that they will say yes, there is a part of her that wants them to say no, wants to keep them sheltered.
She knows that this is not possible.
Potter looks as though he wants to say something, but Weasley beats him to it. "We're sure," he says firmly, giving Potter a look that clearly says, shut up and let us do the talking.
Potter and Weasley stare at each other for a moment, and Minerva realizes right away what's causing the tension between the three. It's Potter. He doesn't want Granger and Weasley to go along, doesn't want to put them in danger. There is a part of her that agrees with him, and she almost wants to forbid Granger and Weasley from leaving the school. As Headmistress, she has that power, but she can't. She won't, because she knows that Potter needs them. Their place is beside him. It always has been, and it always will be.
The silence that follows is long and awkward, and it's Minerva that breaks it. "Is there anything that you need?" she asks finally, raising her eyes up to them.
Granger looks thoughtfully at the other two for a moment, then turns her attention back to the Headmistress. "I think that there are some books we may need," she pauses, "books from the Restricted Section. I think they may be useful in helping us to locate and obtain the Horcruxes."
Minerva simply nods. "Anything else?"
Granger pauses for a long moment, as though she's not sure if she should continue. "I also suspect that perhaps the Sorting Hat could be of use. If we could just take -"
"Done."
If it weren't such a somber time, Minerva thinks that she'd find their reactions amusing. Granger and Weasley are surprised, and it's obvious that they both thought that they'd have to argue with her about it. Potter, on the other hand, simply leans back in his chair and casts suspicious looks in her direction. Minerva meets his gaze straight on, and the only thing she can think of is, take anything you need. Anything that can bring you back alive.
She can't lose anyone else.
::
"You just let them leave?" Molly shouts, anger clearly etched across her face, and Minerva finds herself staring at her in awe. It never ceases to amaze her that the woman can drown out Walburga Black's screaming with so little effort. "They could get killed! Did you stop to think about that?"
Minerva had been planning to simply ignore Molly, but as soon as the words leave the other woman's mouth, she's rising to her feet and staring her down. "You think I don't know that?" she snaps. "Of course I thought of it!" How dare she think that I don't care about them, she thinks to herself. Out loud she says, "I didn't have a choice."
"Of course you had a choice!" Molly shouts, standing as well. Beside her, Arthur shrinks in his seat, looking as though he wants to be anywhere but here. "There's always a choice, Minerva!"
"You're right," Minerva replies shortly, "and I made mine."
Filius looks up the two of them and raises a hand in an attempt to quiet them. "If I may just -"
"You made the wrong one!" Molly snarls, interrupting him.
Kingsley shakes his head. "You both need to calm -"
Minerva doesn't let him finish. "Harry can't do this without them!"
"This isn't just about Ron and Hermione!" Molly screams. "You shouldn't have told him he could go in the first place!"
"I believe in Albus," the Headmistress snaps, "and if he thought that Harry could do this, then so do I."
Molly falls silent at the mention of his name, then simply turns away, slamming the kitchen door behind her. Minerva doesn't stop to savor her victory. She's too busy thinking, Do I?
::
Remus looks tired, but there's still a spark, a warmth to him that Minerva has always found comforting. "I heard you got into an argument with Molly a few months ago," he says conversationally. "Tonks said that it was a miracle the two of you didn't try to kill each other."
"Did she now?" She replies dryly.
"Oh yes," Remus murmurs softly, eyeing her out of the corner of his eyes. "She told me that it got pretty nasty. Something about Harry?"
Minerva frowns suddenly. "Don't do that."
"Do what?" He's staring at her, an amused look on his face. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Tonks told you everything that happened," she observes, "you're just trying to get me to share my feelings and to talk about it so I won't be upset."
Remus gives a shrug and sets down his tea, but Minerva can see the twinkle in his brown eyes. It's vague, but it's there, and it reminds her strongly of him. "Perhaps," he says finally. "Is it working?"
"I," Minerva pauses, then shakes her head. "I didn't want to let them go, you know."
"I know."
She pauses again, then looks at him. "Do you think I did the right thing?"
He leans back in his chair and studies the table for a long moment. "I didn't want to go to Greyback," he says finally, "but I had to." He lifts his mug back up and when his sleeves bunch up, Minerva can see a pattern of red, swelling welts racing up and across his arms. Yes, she knows just how much he didn't want to go. "I think it's the same for Harry. He doesn't want to do this, but he feels like he has to. And it's the same for you - you didn't want to let him leave, but you had no choice. We both know that he would have gone anyway."
She sits quietly for a moment and thinks about what he said. "I want you to come back when this is over," she blurts out finally.
Remus shoots her a perplexed look. "Come back where?"
"Here," she says, waving her arms. "Come back to the school and teach."
He blinks stupidly for a moment, then a smile spreads across his face. "If you're sure you want a werewolf teaching your students."
"I can't think of anyone better," Minerva says sincerely, and it's true.
She can't.
::
The parchment feels heavy in her grasp, and Minerva suddenly stops breathing. A moment later she's practically running through the halls, as fast as she's run in years, and it only takes her a moment to get to her destination. The stone is cool and solid under her fingertips as she claws at it and when she rests her head against it, she thinks that she can hear them whispering within. I have to get in, she thinks desperately. Have to get in.
It takes her a moment to fumble for her wand, and when she taps it against the stone and watches it crumble beneath, there's an odd sort of satisfaction. A second later she's climbing the staircase and then she's there.
The office is cool and silent, the only light bits of silver that filter in through the window. As she walks towards the desk, Minerva realizes that it must be later than she thought, because most of the portraits are sleeping. She pauses, wonders if she should just come back later, and is just about to turn around when a voice speaks.
"Minerva," he says. Startled, she looks up and meets familiar twinkling blue eyes. "I feared that you had forgotten about me."
She swallows. "Albus, I -"
He studies her for a long moment. "Would you care for a lemon drop, my dear?" he asks softly. A moment later he chuckles to himself. "I regret, of course, that I can't give it to you myself. However, if you look in the top drawer of my desk you should find some there."
It wasn't very long ago when his antics would have driven Minerva mad with irritation. Now, they are a comfort, and she finds herself wishing that he would just keep talking. As she roots through the desk in an attempt to find the lemon drops, she looks up at him through red-rimmed eyes. "I killed them," she murmurs. "I killed them."
Albus shakes his head. "You had nothing to do with what happened to Mister Weasley and Miss Granger, Minerva."
She looks up, startled. "How did you -"
"It doesn't matter." He gives her a small smile. "What does matter is that they made their choice. No one could have stopped them. They went with Harry because they wanted to, Minerva. They died protecting their closest friend. We should be celebrating their lives, not mourning their deaths."
She shakes her head. "How did you do it?"
He doesn't have to ask what she means. "I'm afraid that there's no handbook, my dear. You have to stand on your own two feet, and go from there."
Minerva stares at him for a long moment. Standing, she thinks to herself.
She can do that.