After

She stood back from her work as the sun began to slip below the horizon, a house was before her again. Not very large, compared to its owner, only four and a half meters from floor to ceiling and the same floorplan as before. It seemed much larger inside at the moment as it was empty, but it was a start.

Leaving it empty felt a bit cold, so Minerva, who has always enjoyed a challenge, set to estimating the measurements of a Hagrid-sized kitchen table. She recalled the innumerable times she had been to tea with her half-giant friend, and exactly how tall the chairs needed to be so that she had to make an effort to climb into them. 

She had a general plan, but, despite her general brilliance, she was not very good at making certain things out of nothing. She apparated to her own rooms and copied a chair and her hall table, leaving the copies behind and vanishing the originals. After gathering a few other things, she reappeared in this new house and recalled the table with a snap. With that basic template, she could resize and reshape the existing piece until it fit in the space. She did the same with the chair, copied two more, and took a moment to test them out. Judging by the fact that her shoes were completely out of contact with the newly laid floor, the chairs were the right height. 

She pushed the table up against the wall where it had gone before. She summoned up a few teacups, and with a bit of carefully applied magic, resized them to be half-giant friendly. Leaving those on the table made things feel a little less empty at any rate. 

Lastly for the night, she summoned back a gift she meant to leave for him. A framed cross-stitch she’d done years and years ago, which had hung in her rooms in the castle for all that time. A dragon, a Common Welsh Green to be specific, with folded wings and lowered head, that bore the school motto, Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titiliandous, Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon. She left it on the table, against the wall, along with a note that read: This is the only dragon I want to see in this house, Rubeus. Love, M.

With that much done, she closed the newly-hung door behind her and found her way across the grass to the path in the growing dark. She was tired but satisfied with her day’s work. She looked up at the moon over the castle, with its silhouette both familiar and strange to her, and stopped, halfway to the front doors. She had done so much already, and she did feel accomplished now, but when she crossed the threshold to the school would she feel that same sense of attainment? 

No. She wouldn’t be able to see past the work that still needed to be done, she wouldn’t be able to rest or take refuge there, not yet. It felt wrong to leave the grounds, the sense of attachment was deeply rooted, and feeling that something was wrong was nearly overwhelming if she stopped working long enough to feel it. So there was no real choice, it was either stay and remain restless and keep working until it caught up to her again, or leave and get some measure of peace elsewhere. 

It does not happen often that Minerva McGonagall finds that she has something left to learn, but she had learned her lesson this time. No more working herself to the edge of death, there was too much to be done for her to lose another three days in the hospital. She sighed, accepted the reality, and disapparated from the grounds of Hogwarts. She had a summer house for a reason, after all. 

And she was right, the sense of urgency that had overtaken her the moment she crossed the wards at Hogwarts was gone as she passed through the garden gate at her little summer retreat. In its place was a depth of weariness she couldn’t argue with. Passing through the front door she magically opened all of the windows in her sparsely furnished cottage. Other than the wall-to-wall shelves that dominated what would be a living room and housed the majority of her personal library, the house was devoid of much furniture. A kitchen table, a desk and chair in the office, and a bed that sounded more and more comfortable with every step she took. It wasn’t much, but she certainly felt better being there than at the hospital. 

She woke up nine hours later with no recollection of how she made it to her bed. “Building a whole house in a day will do that to a person, I suppose,” she muttered to herself, examining her watch, which she hadn’t bothered to take off, in a state of almost disbelief. She searched the table beside her for her spectacles, only managing to knock them, along with two books and an inkwell, over the edge. “Ah, feck et all anyway,” she sighed, collapsing back melodramatically. 

She might have slept for another nine hours but there came a very impatient knock on her front door. It could only be one of two people, and Minerva had a feeling it was both of them. 

She dragged herself through her unfurnished house, still in the clothes she’d arrived in late last night, smeared with dirt and dust and the evidence of hard work. She had to open the door or they would think she was still at Hogwarts, but she really wished they’d just leave her be. She opened the door to Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick, as expected. 

Pomona stepped in, forcing Minerva to step aside. “You look like hell.”

“Thank you,” Minerva responded sarcastically. 

Filius chuckled as he passed by her and followed Pomona, “Still not a furnished house, I see,” he commented, looking around the rooms and how empty things were. 

“Everything’s still at the school,” Minerva replied, closing the door behind them. “I didn’t bother to go back for anything.” 

“I never understood why you wouldn’t just get some things to leave here,” Pomona said, rolling her eyes, She sat down at the kitchen table, as those were the only chairs in the house. “That’s what I do, and it saves all the trouble of moving every summer.” 

“I’m sure it does,” Minerva replied, uninterested, sitting down opposite of her. 

“But that’s not what we’re here to talk about, is it Pomona?” Filius said chastisingly, not really asking.

“No, no, of course not,” The other woman puffed, “I hate to get all mushy, Minerva, you know that as well as anyone, but I really must apologise to you.”

Minerva looked up at her, confused, “What on Earth for?” 

“We abandoned you,” Filius answered regretfully, magically raising the seat of his chair. 

Minerva rolled her eyes, more people worrying over her for no reason. “Please, I would have gotten rid of you one way or another,” She answered sarcastically, “You didn’t abandon me, you left when you should have and I didn’t.”

“Yes, well, that is true,” Pomona answered brusquely, before catching a scathing look from Filius and adding, “but all the same we should’ve known you hadn’t left, we shouldn’t have left you there.” 

“We look out for each other, the three of us, and we should’ve known better than to leave you in that state.”

Minerva sighed annoyedly, “I make my own decisions, Filius. What happened is no one’s fault but my own. And now I’ve paid for it and we can all move on and forget about it,” She said urgently, cutting across their further protestations. She changed the subject, “did you get the letters I sent to each of you?” 

“Yes,” Filius answered, reluctantly going along with the change in topic. “That was the other thing I came to talk to you about. I’ll come back…” Minerva’s expression brightened some, then Filius added, “But I don’t know how many years I can stay.” 

“That’s no matter now,” Minerva replied, waving that addition away and saying sarcastically, “We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.” 

Filius smiled slightly and nodded. Pomona cut across whatever it was he was going to say next, “You know I’m in for the next few years at least. And when I do go I want Longbottom to take over.” 

“The fact that you’re already thinking about who’s taking over for you concerns me, but I do agree with your choice,” Minerva said in a very business-like manner. There was a note of pride in her voice when she added, “Neville would be an excellent herbology teacher, he has the right manner for it.” 

“Well, that’s the three of us, and I’ll stay as Head of house,” Filius said with a resolute nod. 

“So will I,” Pomona interjected. 

“Have you heard from any of the others?” Filius asked, bypassing Pomona’s interruption.

“Septimia and Poppy have committed themselves to returning,” Minerva answered with a nod, “Thank goodness because I don’t know if we could manage without them.” 

“I wouldn’t want to try,” Filius answered shortly.

Pomona agreed much more long-windedly, “No, no, not without the two of them. Septimia’s is far too complex a coursework for any of us to take over, and there aren’t a lot of options for a replacement, and so far as Poppy, well, I wouldn’t want to work with anything in greenhouse six if she was in Hogsmeade, let alone not around at all.” She said it at first as a joke, but then her shoulders sank, there was nothing in greenhouse six. So far as she knew there was no greenhouse six. “Well, you know what I mean,” She added, trying to keep her brusque exterior.

The other two nodded mournfully. Minerva didn’t think it would help to bring up the progress she had made in restoring the structure of the greenhouses, so she did not. 

After a moment of doleful silence, Filius asked again, “Any others? Besides the two of them?”

“Not yet, I didn’t expect them to. There’s a lot to think about in this decision,” Minerva answered with a sigh, “I am hoping that most of them at least will be able to return, but I think between the five of us we can get things into a semblance of running order by the start of next term.” 

“Quite right,” Pomona said with a definite nod, she over-confidently added, “It’ll be a walk in the park.” 

“That is if you don’t kill yourself over it first,” Filius said with a pointed look at Minerva. 

“Oh, stop fussing, I’ve lived this long, haven’t I?” Minerva returned sarcastically, feeling much better with the two of them definitely on her side.