Minerva McGonagall stood in a large, circular room, alone. She looked around the room. His room. Her room. It was a beautiful place, with mahogany furniture and portraits lining the walls, holding paintings of distinguished looking witches and wizards. Bathed in a pale, silvery light, filtering in through one of the large windows that overlooked the grounds, the wondrous room looked nothing like the woman standing in the middle of it. Sad and forlorn, Minerva’s shoulders, which were usually held straight and proud, now lay low and seemed to sag with grief. Her eyes, usually so full of life and intelligence, were now blood-shot and dull. But, most of all, her full, clean heart felt punctured and crushed. She looked as though she hadn’t slept for days. But the again, that was all she had felt for the past few days. Beaten, betrayed, wounded and…lost.



Minerva didn’t know what to do. Staring around the office slowly, taking in the familiar sights, she remembered how many times she had come up here. Those were happy times. Times filled with laughter, merriment and…love. For yes, even though she had never shown it on the outside, Minerva McGonagall had grown to love Albus Dumbledore. Every time he had laughed or smiled in her presence, Minerva had felt a gentle tugging at her heartstrings as though somewhere inside her, a harp was playing softly, sending its’ beautiful melody of love around her body.



But that was all gone now. Where Albus had been before was now a gaping, bottomless hole. A hole begging…wanting to be filled up. She found herself picturing it again, for the thousandth time: Albus, on the Astronomy Tower, cornered and surrounded by Death Eaters, wandless and feeble. And HIM. Snape.



A flame of fiery hate suddenly flared through Minerva’s body, only to instantly clash with the wave of grief that had just broken from the dam around her heart, causing an overwhelming pressure behind her eyes that Minerva couldn’t take any more when she pictured Albus falling down…down…down into the depths of the earth, never to awake again.



The tears started to fall. They trickled slowly down her already tear-stained cheeks, then faster, cascading diamond droplets from the very centre of her heart.



She had trusted him. Albus had trusted him and he had taken that trust, used it and then tossed it aside like a worthless rag. Trust. The word vibrated through her head. Trust had been something that Albus always had. It seemed to radiate from his very skin, sending a warm feeling of proud to anyone it was lucky enough to touch. But what did it mean now? To have the trust so genuinely given in the form of life, be thrust back at you in the form of death? Minerva didn’t know. She didn’t want to find out. She wondered whether she would ever climb the long, winding staircase to the Astronomy Tower again.



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The Tower held memories for her too. She remembered, in her fifth year, crying on the battlements, with only the stars as her guides. She was clutching a tear-soaked piece of parchment that informed her politely, yet emotionlessly that her parents, Martin and Samantha McGonagall had been killed in the war against Grindelwald. It was there that Albus Dumbledore had found her, sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth, sobbing. There were pieces of viciously torn parchment at her feet, one scrap of which bore the Ministry’s emblem.



He had carried her down to the Hospital Wing, where he had spoken to her gently and softly, the parent figure she needed. It had been from that day onwards that Minerva had been Albus most loyal student and later on in life, colleague.



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Minerva now knew what she had to do. Leaving the office quietly, she descended down the spiral staircase, submerged in her thoughts. She walked through the many corridors of the castle she had grown to call home, gazing around. Once a place of fun and cheer, the hallways now seemed to hide in the black shadows of the night, casting a chill around the school, like never before. Minerva shivered, willing herself not to start crying again. There was no one about. Students had gone home and all teachers were fast asleep, their dreams anxious and troubled.



Minerva reached the foot of the Astronomy Tower and looked up the spiralling staircase. Something there seemed to taunt her, daring her to turn back. Turn back on what she had come to seek. Turn back on her…memories. Minerva paused and then started to climb the staircase. She ascended slowly, as though walking the ladder to Heaven, feeling the smoothness of the stone steps through her thin shoes. At the top, she took a deep breath and pushed open the door. A gust of warm summer’s night air caressed her face, making her feel at ease, something she hadn’t experienced in a long while. She glanced around cautiously. Nothing seemed different. The cobbled stone of the Tower gleamed softly in the silver light of the moon and the stars called out to her invitingly. She took a step away from the doorway.



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Hundreds of miles overhead, Albus Dumbledore sat atop a silvery star, watching his precious school. Albus had always loved the school. The students, he cared for like his own grandchildren. He wasn’t going to let his own death get in the way. He would always be watching. Everything was still and the power of love and trust in Albus’ heart seemed to give his star the energy it needed to burn. Then suddenly, he saw something shift on top of the tallest tower. He gazed down and his eyes found the form of Minerva McGonagall. She was staring up at the stars with something close to reverence. She seemed to be silently asking for help and strength.



‘Ahhh…Minerva,’ thought Albus. She had loved him, he knew. It caused him unbearable grief to see her pain. She had started to cry anew, the effort causing her whole body to shake. Still staring at the heavens, her eyes jumped from star to star, as though looking for solace in their silvery depths.



Albus’ heart shattered into a dozen pieces as he watched the many tears falling from her eyes, each one of them reflecting a burst of rainbow colours from the stars before they hit the ground silently yet powerfully.



‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered and a wall of emotions broke through his body, landing on his star and making it burn brighter than ever before. He smiled softly as he saw her eyes alight on his star.



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Minerva’s eyes bored into the star that had just shone magnificently, reflecting off her watery eyes. The star seemed to radiate everything she felt: misery and love. Yet, there was no anger. But there was something else there. Something she had come here to find. The star’s bright light washed over her, cleansing her, filling her with strength and…hope. Minerva smiled. She knew she had a choice. But, it wasn’t the choice that bothered her now. It was the people who were affected by it. Gazing back up at the stars that shone with a quiet splendour, Minerva knew she couldn’t leave Hogwarts. It was her home. The teachers were her friends, the students her children.



Yet, as the new Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stared up at the lone star that winked and shimmered down at her from right above the school, she realised that all she had left were her memories.





Fin