Sacred

Screams of terror echoed through the corridors of her beloved school.

Minerva ignored them.

She couldn’t stop for every scream, couldn’t let herself be distracted. She couldn’t save them all, but she could save some if only she stayed alive.

She had to stay alive.

She sprinted through the corridors, throwing up a shield in front of a couple children curled on the floor. Her heart twisted painfully at their terrified expressions.

“Go!” She roared, unable to provide them even a modicum of comfort. But she would provide them protection. She threw a curse towards the unmasked Death Eater as the children scrambled away, hopefully to safety.

“Can’t save them all, Professor!” The Death Eater spat. Minerva threw a stunning spell at the man and he fell, his eyes still blazing with fury.

Goyle. Ernest Goyle. She snatched his wand and snapped it before binding him and tossing a small stone from her pouch onto his chest and he was portkeyed away to the cellars of Grimmauld Place with the rest of the prisoners.

He had wanted to work with animals when he grew up.

She took off again, her bones aching as her feet pounded against the stone floors. Her wand moved fluidly, never stopping.

Shield.

Stun.

Disarm.

Snap.

Portkey.

Run.

Shield.

Stun.

Run.

Run.

Run.

“No!”

A scream tore through her.

The usually bright pink hair darkened and lengthened, long brown curls springing from the cropped pink locks. Vacant eyes stared at her as the body of Nymphadora Tonks fell.

Bellatrix turned.

“Hello, Professor,” She crooned.

“You killed her,”

“I killed her.”

“Your niece..”

“My niece.” Bellatrix twirled her wand as she grinned, baring her rotted teeth. “Killed the pup too, and my sister’s mudblood husband.” Minerva staggered.

“Why?” She breathed. Bellatrix only smiled wider.

“Why not?” She said quietly, before bursting into hysterical laughter. “Why not? I killed the mudblood metamorphagus, I killed the wolf, I killed the mudblood, I killed Sirius,” She ticked them off on her fingers. “I killed a few of your students too, mudbloods I’m sure,” She sighed. “You always did have a soft spot for filth, didn’t you?”

“She’s your sister, Bella. How could you do this to your own sister? You murdered her family!” Rage flashed in Bellatrix’s eyes and Minerva cried out as a hex hit her, scalding the flesh of her arm.

“We were her family!” She roared. “And she threw us away for that fucking mudblood! After everything I did for her and she just threw us away!” Her face twisted again into a horrid smile. "Does that seem like family to you, Minnie?" 

“And yet,” Minerva breathed through gritted teeth. “You let her live. A curious mercy, don’t you think?” Bellatrix’s eyes widened as she cackled.

“Andromeda deserves to live,” She said. “She deserves to live, Professor.”

“Why?” She heaved against the pain in her arm, her wand trembling. "Why does she deserve to live?" Bellatrix cocked her head.

“So she can experience the pain that I felt.” The ground seemed to crack under her words. Rage, that familiar rage Minerva knew so well flashed in the woman’s eyes, the air around her vibrating with volatile magic. "For that, for everything she did, my dear Andromeda deserves to live."

“It will not change things, Bella. Hurting your sister, it won’t fix the things that have already been broken.” Bellatrix laughed, a high pitched and cruel sound.

“I don’t want it fixed,” She hissed. “I want her broken.” She raised her wand lazily. “Anyhoo, as fun as our little heart to heart has been, I think it’s time to say goodbye.” Minerva raised her own wand with a trembling hand, trying to ignore the brown eyes that were so familiar and foreign at the same time.

This was her fault.

Minerva had abandoned them, had let them walk right back into their abusers arms. She was the reason Bellatrix was the way she was. She was the reason Andromeda was alone. She was the reason Narcissa was captive by the Dark Lord. She was the reason Regulus was dead.

All of it. All of it was her fault.

Didn’t she deserve this? Didn’t she deserve to be struck down by this woman – this child that Minerva had failed so drastically? Hadn’t Bellatrix earned her revenge?

Minerva closed her eyes.

She could not save her, could not undo the things that Bellatrix had lived through. But she could give her this. 

She deserved this.

“It’s alright,” She heard herself whisper. “It’s alright.”

Minerva was so tired of fighting. She was tired of failing. She was tired of all of it.

She was ready.

She waited for the curse to strike her. She wondered if it would hurt, if Bella would end her quickly or if she would prolong her suffering. She wondered if she even deserved a quick death.

After all, they had suffered for far too long.

“Get out.” The words were hissed, barely above a whisper. Minerva opened her eyes. Bellatrix was staring at her, grief etched on her face.

“Get out,” Bellatrix hissed again. “Get the fuck out of here!” A spell exploded above her, sending rocks and debris raining down and Minerva flung a shield up reflexively. “Get out!” Bellatrix roared again. Another explosion of rocks. Curse after curse rained down around her, shattering the walls around her but somehow never hitting her.

She turned.

And she ran.

// //

Minerva stood at the monument.

Everyone had already left. Harry had lingered, a calloused hand on her shoulder in an attempt to provide her comfort.

It sickened her.

He was just a boy, a child, really, and he hadn’t deserved any of this. He should be resting now, should be grieving with the rest of his friends. He shouldn’t be here comforting her. She wanted to scream at him, to beg his forgiveness, to plead with him to get out of here, to run and escape and to be a boy, not a hero.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she patted his hand and smiled at him. Reassured him she was alright.

And he left.

And she was alone.

Minerva stared at the monument. There were hundreds of names on there. Some she recognized – most she recognized – but many she didn’t. She wondered if they really were unknown or if she’d simply forgotten them. She didn’t want to forget them. They deserved to be remembered.

She traced her fingers over the etched letters, reading the ones she knew by heart.

Remus Lupin.

Sirius Black.

Colin Creevey.

Lavendar Brown.

Albus Dumbledore.

Ted Tonks.

Nymphadora Tonks.

Alastor Moody.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.

Somewhere in the recesses of her mind there was a better articulation of how she was feeling, but she couldn’t find it, couldn’t summon the effort to formulate her thoughts.

It just wasn’t fair.

With a jerk, Minerva flung herself into the abyss, twisting until she arrived on the front porch of her home. She threw herself into the house, retreating to her bedroom and slamming the door shut like she hadn’t done since she was a child. A hysterical sob wrenched itself out of her, the kind that caused her entire body to convulse with the force of it, the kind that ached in her very bones.

It wasn’t fair.

The words echoed in her head, whispered into the solemn silence of the room, slipping from her lips like a breath of air.

It wasn’t fair.

// //

Eight Years Later

Minerva watched as Poppy Pomfrey moved her wand methodically over the mottled skin of the young boy. He whimpered with pain and Minerva clutched his hand tightly.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” She murmured. The boy sniffled but did not cry. He never cried, she noticed, no matter the pain he was in. She catalogued that, filing it away to add to her report later.

Finally, Poppy finished her healing and handed a pain relieving potion to Minerva.

“Ensure that he takes this, Headmistress,” She said softly, and Minerva nodded. She waited until the curtains closed around them before turning to the boy in the bed.

He was so small, she noticed, much smaller than a boy of twelve ought to be. She resolved to discuss his nutrition with Poppy after, but for now she had other things to attend to.

“Mister Daniels,” She said in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “First of all, I want to thank you for coming to me. I know it’s not easy to admit that you’ve been hurt, and I want you to understand how brave it is that you’re here.” The boy nodded slowly, his eyes wide. “I wanted to let you know that I’ve contacted the Department of Child Welfare and given them your memories and they agree that what has happened was unacceptable and cannot happen again. They are going to be contacting your mum –“

“What? No!” The boy sat up, wheezing against the pain from his injuries. “I.. I didn’t mean it! I didn’t want anyone to talk to her!” Minerva placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Lay back down, Mister Daniels, before you hurt yourself again.”  She said sternly. The boy relaxed back into the bed,  his face twisted with fear. “They had to contact her in order to ensure you were not hurt again.”

“Can’t I just stay here?” Minerva sighed.

“All year round?” He didn’t respond. “I know that you know it’s not a viable option.” The boy looked away.

“She’s going to hate me,” He said quietly. “What’s going to happen to me?” Minerva smiled thinly.

“Do you remember my friend Mister Potter?” She asked. The boy perked up.

“Harry Potter? The hero?” He asked. She bit back a grin, fully aware that Harry hated being called a hero.

“The very same,” She said. “Well, I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but Mr. Potter grew up in an environment similar to yours. His guardians didn’t understand magic and mistreated him because of it. He has worked very hard to ensure that no child is treated that way, and has created a home for children who need it.” The boy grimaced.

“Like an orphanage?” He asked.

“Decidedly not,” Minerva turned. Harry stood behind her, his arms folded across his chest. A large, broad man with a greenish tinge to his face was beside him. “Sorry we’re late, Headmistress. Floo travel still doesn’t agree with Dudley.” Poppy swished through the curtain and handed a phial to the man.

“Thanks, Poppy,” Dudley murmured before downing the contents, color slowly returning to his face. The healer smiled kindly at the man, obviously familiar with him.

“Harry Potter!” The boy breathed. Harry smiled.

“And you must be Kevin,” He said. Minerva stood and let Harry take his seat, and she flicked her wand, conjuring another seat for Dudley. “This is my cousin, Dudley and he helps me run Grimmauld Place. I’m sure you have lots of questions for us, and we’d be more than happy to explain what’s going to happen from here.”

Minerva smiled as she turned away from the two men, letting the curtain fall closed behind her as she walked into the empty corridor. It was past curfew now – she didn’t expect to see anyone in the halls and so she allowed herself a slow walk to her office as she thought.

Mr. Daniels was not the first student who had come to her, and he wouldn’t be the last. It was exhausting, to say the least. The Ministry still was not keen to involve themselves in affairs of abuse and it took a lot of work on her behalf to incite any change.

But Minerva did not mind the work.

She had failed many. She had failed Bellatrix, Andromeda and Narcissa. She had failed Regulus and Sirius. She had failed Draco and Theodore Nott. She had failed generations of students.

She had failed Harry.

The weight of her failure sometimes felt crushing, like she would crumble beneath their suffering and their deaths.

But she didn’t crumble.

She reached her office and sat down at her desk and picked up the small envelope bearing the Ravenclaw seal. She opened it and began to read. Another name, another story of mysterious injuries and night terrors. She sighed and penned a letter back to the Head of House, asking them to send the student to her in the morning.

Minerva had failed many.

But she would not fail another.