After

They left her a few hours later, after going over the class plans they had already begun working on. Minerva got their opinions and approval on several rather progressive ideas for new school policies and programs that she wanted to put in place as soon as it was possible.

It was just before noon when they left her under commandments to stop working and rest. Minerva lied when she said that she planned to do just that. She waited until Pomona had come back through her door with a suspicious look and explained herself with a shrug and a muttered, “Just checking,” Before she left for Hogwarts grounds again.

She appeared at the front steps of the castle, most of this face of the building was sound and in a beginning state of repair. She passed through the entrance hall, still missing statuary and suits of armor, into the main corridor, which was off-puttingly devoid of portraiture, statuary, tapestries, trophy cases, and all other such embellishments. There was one spot on the wall that she had avoided fixing until now. The hourglass house point counters were still shattered, rubies, diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires all swept to the side of the hall, intermingled with shards of crystal. 

She hadn’t bothered because she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. Perhaps instead of the houses and the sorting and the points, there was just a school full of children allowed to be whomsoever they choose. Not the brave or the bright or the cunning or the caring, but each and every one the way they really were, one of a kind. 

And yet, that seemed a bit too radical, so she stepped back from the idea again. It wasn’t the houses that got them into this mess, it was the division and dissension between them.  It wasn’t the sorting or the house points that separated the houses, those were nothing but a personality test and a friendly competition, it was the mistrust and suspicion of one another that built walls.

Rather than take away centuries of tradition, perhaps it was best to add things that would encourage inter-house cooperation and friendship. No more designated tables then, that might help. And a common room that was not divided by house, a place where anyone, of any house, was welcome. A place that encouraged inter-house friendship. Surely that would help. 

She was resolute then, and she raised a hand to reconstruct each house’s hourglass. Slytherin’s pieced itself back together, emeralds slithering out from the midst of the other gemstones to take their place back inside the column of crystal. Hufflepuff’s hourglass came together quickly under her magic, pieces stretching somewhat, changing shape to recall what it had been. The diamonds that counted their points poured into the crystal container.

She thought about how she could get the other professors to encourage these plans, and how to get people on board as it was. Then she recalled that she was the headmistress and she really can do whatever she wants. Surely there would be some who would disagree with these measures, those who were, as Minerva herself is often accused of being, allergic to change. Unfortunately for them, she has the power to mandate changes and she’ll mandate these whether other people like them or not. 

Gryffindor House’s hourglass came together slowly, many of the pieces of crystal needing to stretch to reform places that had been blown to dust. Rubies collected themselves into the base of the hourglass as the upper half formed itself, closing around them. Ravenclaw’s went up easy after that, sapphires flying into the base of the hourglass as it formed around them. 

She would probably have to seek approval from the board of governors for such immense steps toward house unity. They were always so nosy when it came to large events and school affairs that they had, in Minerva’s opinion, no right to stick their noses in. She decided to proceed without asking them, it’s much easier to seek forgiveness than permission, after all.  If they don’t like it, too bad. What could they possibly do to punish her for it? Get rid of her? They wouldn’t have a school for long if they did that, and they knew it. She was immune to consequences, they could do nothing to hurt her now. 

With a glimmer of satisfaction she looked at the house point counters again and smiled, for the first time in weeks she smiled. Hogwarts was about to get a bit of a shaking-up. She hoped the older students would go for it, and set a good example for the younger ones. 

Then it crossed her mind just how few older students there would be returning and her smile was lost again. The sixth and seventh-year classes were already small when they came in as first years, it was the group born during the first war against Voldemort, far fewer than in a normal year. Now, now, they were an even smaller group, if any of them wanted to come back at all. 

Her knees went weak at the thought of them, the ones she lost, mostly those of her own house. Of course, it was the Gryffindors who stayed to fight, not one member of the seventh-year class left. And Hufflepuff’s loyalty showed when most of them stayed beside their friends. Half of the Ravenclaws old enough to stay were smart enough to leave. Slytherin’s house table was almost empty, as Minerva had hoped it would be, she had no desire to pit children against parents and older siblings, though many of them had been cunning enough to sneak back into the fray and surprise the enemy. All of them, no matter their house, drew their wands and stood up beside the rest of the resistance like they were just as ready to die for the cause. They weren’t ready to die, at least they shouldn’t have been. Seventeen years is not long enough to have really lived. 

She turned away from the house point counters and back to the Great Hall, trying to find anything to distract her from that horrible reality. 

The Great Hall was still empty of furniture, as she had moved or gotten rid of most of it. The House Tables weren’t broken beyond repair, but they were almost like haunted objects. Makeshift hospital tables, and makeshift mortuary space, there were slashes and burns along them, and missing legs, and a hundred other imperfections that had not come from their decades of daily use. 

She decided it was best to have them replaced. She had seen that happen once before, early on in her tenure as Transfiguration Professor, the tables these had replaced had desperately needed to go, held together by little more than magic and hope, they strained under the weight of the closing feast that year. To get new ones was a relief for sure, but she had also seen the bill for them, and that hadn’t given anyone any kind of peace. She recalled nearly choking on her tea when Albus told her the number, and that was more than seventy years ago, the price surely could not have gone down. So for that decision anyway she would need to consult the Board of Governors, but she had no doubt that they would see things her way. 

She summoned up her list into midair, to add the note about contacting the board for new furniture in several rooms. The list had grown considerably during her stay at St. Mungo’s, though she had managed to take care of several of the administrative tasks on it. At the thought of administrative tasks, she realised that there was yet another room in the building that required her attention. 

Her office. She forced herself to think of it as her office, she had to take ownership of it now, no matter how long it had been Albus’s and no matter what had happened there when it belonged to Severus. Now it was her office and she would, from that lofty position, dictate changes and corrections and improvements until she had undone as much of the damage they had caused as she could. But she knew that before she could start the work of legislating new policies from that desk she would have to first claim that office. A wave of determination swept through her and she turned on her heel before she lost the will to move. 

Disapparating and reappearing before the stone Gryffin she spoke before she lost the nerve, “Severus Snape is dead. I am the Headmistress of Hogwarts School.” 

The Gryffin spoke in return, a very rare occurrence, “Welcome Headmistress McGonagall. What is your password?”

Minerva faltered for a moment, she hadn’t thought of one, “Oh, ah, yes, that is something I would have to choose.” She muttered before turning back to the stony creature and saying,  “Better make it Ginger Newts, I’ll remember that.” 

The Gryffin fell silent again but leapt out of the way of the spiral staircase. Minerva nodded to it, though she felt somewhat foolish doing so, “Thank you.” She kept her nerve long enough to step onto the slowly rising staircase.