After

Minerva was not proud to have admitted that she had so far avoided her new office. She hadn’t had time to repair the transfiguration department yet either, she’d been too focused on the areas of the school that meant something to other people. 

Most new Headteachers would make the climb and set a new password with the gryffin and claim their office. Then again, most Headteachers didn’t take over after a bloody conflict within the walls of the school. 

That was just her lot in life, always when she was expected to take over it was during or after a tragedy. When Albus was removed and students were being petrified left and right she was expected to step up and be the one to close the school, send everyone home, and let Hogwarts fail. When the Ministry attempted a coup and Albus was, once again, removed from the school it fell to her to protect her students and fellow staff members and she wound up in St. Mungos because of it. When Albus died she was expected to take over not just the school, but the Order, she was the one who had to call the shots, and they thought that she knew everything he had known, even when she didn’t. It felt like that man was always setting her up to fail. And now, now that they had come in through the front door and slaughtered her students and friends and the people she dedicated her life to, she was expected to step up and take control and fix everything before September came. She couldn’t bring herself to touch her office door, how was she supposed to stay there? And yet, how could she leave?

Poppy was asking a similar question. How could she get Minerva to leave? 

Minerva broke the silence that had fallen over them like a layer of dust, “I suppose I shall have to put that at the top of the list,” She said absently, trying to appear braver than she felt. 

“I think we need to put a pin in that to-do list for now,” Poppy said, trying to be gentle with her approach. Minerva was not likely to leave of her own free will, and there was no way of telling just how long they had before her exhaustion took over, but Poppy was beginning to see the signs. 

Minerva looked at her with a bit of the old sharpness coming back to her expression, “I suppose you’re going to try and drag me out of here.” She was still resistant to the idea of leaving the school unoccupied but she was feeling worse by the second. 

“I don’t want to have to force you to go, but really Minerva you know you should,” Poppy answered, not quailing under the slightly sharp look that she received. 

“I can’t see why, I’m perfectly alright,” Minerva lied, “The only thing I need is to get back to work on that library.” She made a move to stand up and Poppy did the only thing she could think of.

She pulled her wand. “Do not make me use this,” she threatened. Her voice was forceful but not unkind, “I would never hurt you, obviously, but I would sedate you for your own good.” 

“Put that damn thing away,” Septimia half-shouted, surprised by Poppy’s actions. 

Poppy ignored her, “I don’t want this to be a fight, Minnie, please don’t force my hand.”

Minerva disarmed her with the very slightest twitch of her hand. “Oh, it’ll be the fight of your life,” she assured her, with a calm exterior. Internally she knew that she didn’t have the magic or the energy to fight Poppy any further.

Poppy’s shoulders dropped and she sighed heavily. “You always have to make everything so difficult.” Poppy didn’t mean difficult for her, she meant that Minerva makes everything difficult for herself. 

“Difficult? Difficult? Don’t you realise that we’re the only living things left in the place?” Minerva asked, standing suddenly. 

Septimia started in her chair and started to say something calming, “Of course, we understand…”

Minerva didn’t hear her, she went on with her ranting, “How am I just supposed to up and leave it like this?” She asked, anger slipping through her facade. Before she knew it she was spilling her fears and pains, her tone and volume rising. “That’s difficult. If we all leave then there’s nothing here but death and disaster and destruction. Even Peeves is half tame, the poltergeist is damn near down-hearted! There’s nothing left here if I leave. How can I leave it like that?”  

Poppy and Septimia were both surprised by the sudden explosion and couldn’t find anything to say in response. Septimia stuttered looking for something to say but nothing came. Just a look of concern, mixed with just a hint of fear. 

Minerva was shaking uncontrollably, all of the last few days catching up to her in one moment, all of the death and pain and fear and loss and anger breaking through the walls she had built up around it. She’d controlled herself and her emotions and her magic for so long and now it was just too much. She took a few shaky steps away from them, desperately trying to cling to her self-control. She could feel the magic slipping away from her. She’d been able to summon it up and still perform acts of magic so large and restorative only because she had refused to lose all control. She had relied so totally on that magic that it had covered up most of the physical pain, hunger, and exhaustion that would have taken her down long before now. Now that power was diminishing. Exhaustion was catching up to her. The magic that kept her upright was weakening and falling away, and she didn’t have long before a total collapse. 

But more on the forefront of her mind were the losses they had suffered, the pain she had inflicted, the deaths she had caused, the deaths that had hurt her so much. “Oh, why? I did everything I could and it wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough. What could I have done? What did I do wrong? How did I let them go down that path? How did this happen? Why did they have to die? Why did I live?” Tears were springing up in her eyes as all control was lost to her. She was no longer Professor McGonagall, she wasn’t the surrogate mother they knew, she was just Minerva. No longer invulnerable, no longer courageous, no longer in check, she had hit her breaking point and she couldn’t even hide it anymore. 

Septimia was trying to keep from crying, she felt so responsible, she should have checked sooner. She wasn’t sure what to do except try and calm down enough to bring some peace back to Minerva. 

Poppy took one deep breath, realising the job before her, relying on her training, education taking over emotion. She had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. She stood up slowly and motioned for Septimia to stay where she was when she started to follow suit. Slowly Poppy reached out to where Minerva stood, almost hyperventilating, shaking uncontrollably, and finally laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. Minerva shrunk back but Poppy followed her and carefully took her shaking hands in her own and said, “This is not your fault.” 

“Oh, but so much of it is. I should have listened to him, I should have paid more attention, I might’ve made all the difference. I could have done any one thing differently and changed all of this. Why wasn’t I paying attention?” She asked desperately, growing very dizzy and feeling faintly sick. 

“You were, you did everything you could have done,” Poppy said reassuringly, though knew she wasn’t going to get through to Minerva now, in this state of hysteria, and she could see that she wasn’t going to be upright for long. She threw a sidelong look at Septimia, calling her over to them, and then turned the chair that Minerva had stood so abruptly from and brought it up behind her. Minerva was growing more and more unsteady with every second that passed to the point where Poppy had to practically hold her up. She was just waiting for her to let go of the fight and hoping beyond hope that this wasn’t enough to do what all those battles and wars hadn’t managed. 

Finally, after a few moments that felt like an hour, the magic gave way and Minerva’s physical symptoms took over. She must have felt it too, Poppy could see a moment of surprise in her expression before she fainted. Septimia helped Poppy carefully lower her into the chair. 

“That’s what I thought it must be. Her physical symptoms were far too pressing for her to be up and about by any other means. Magic can only do so much for so long.” Poppy shook her head, straightening up from taking her pulse. Septimia looked horrified, she’d never seen anything like that before. Poppy saw her expression and reassured her, “She’ll be alright sooner or later, but we really should get her to St. Mungos. I was hoping she wouldn’t fight me on it so she could walk out of here, but alas.” Her tone was a lot more flippant than she really felt.