‘No.
No.
Nononononononono.
NO.
Please, please, please no. No I can’t lose another one please I-I-I- I can’t lose another one please I’ve lost too many of them already!
You already took so many of them from me, why do you need more?!
Why? Why do you need Sirius? I don’t get the others back, leave him be.
Minerva sank to the floor as soon as she heard the news. She couldn't stand with the oppressing grief that threatened to drown her. She needed to breathe, she knew that logically, but she couldn’t. How was she supposed to breathe when another of her kids just died? She just lost another one of her kids to this damn war. Now she only has one left. ‘
Oh.
Oh no.
Oh
A new round of sadness rolled over her.
Suddenly her only thought was of her only remaining kid, Lupin, how was he going to take this? Minerva feared the worst for the man. Only 38 years old with all that loss. Minerva is more observant than they give her credit for so she is aware of the relationship between him and Sirius. Not only has Remus lost his old lover, but his last remaining friend.
Sure, Pettigrew the Death Eater may still be living but Peter the Marauder has been long dead.
Minerva takes one sharp breath…
And then she weeps.
Oh how she weeps.
She cries herself exhausted and only when she sobs herself to sleep does she cease her tears and enter restless slumber.
Because why should anything be okay when the young, long haired, mischievous, Gryfindor boy she adored dearly is no longer here.
In the morning everything is peaceful for one second. One second is all it took for Minevera to deduce why she was sleeping on the floor of her office.
There were no tears left to cry. An empty hollow pain was all that was left. She thinks back to all those that she’s lost because of this war.
The war that uses child soldiers.
The war that has hung ominously over little Harry’s head since he was but a child.
Harry.
Harry who just lost the last hope of a semi-normal family he had left.
Harry who was now stuck with those horrible Dursley’s.
Why would Dumbledore stick him in a home like that?
Better yet, why would he ask children to fight in his war?
Minerva then had a revelation.
It was him.
It was all him, he even told her he would do anything for the war.
“Anything it takes to win Minnie.” Dumbledore had said.
Is this what it took? Careful planning and the manipulation of children who base their pride and worth in the ‘Gryfindor bravery’?
Minerva was sick.
But not sick enough to avoid confronting the old bastard.
Minerva took strides long enough to rival Snape’s own, all the way to Dumbledore’s office.
“Sherbert Lemon” McGonagall barks at the Gargoyle.
She schools her expression and walks up the stairs.
“Professor McGonagall, I was not expecting you. How may I be of assistance?” Dumbledore asks.
“You can start by explaining what in your senile old head makes you possibly believe that it is ok to orchestrate tragedy after tragedy in order to manipulate a bunch of children who believe that you would never mislead them?” McGonagall harshly responds.
“Excuse me? Minerva, I know how much Mr. Black meant to you but this outrage is severely misplaced. All this anger should be focused on the Death Eaters, not me.” Dumbledore states, hands raised placatingly in the air.
“I am not a child you can redirect into ignoring the truth that’s right in front of them, Albus.” Minerva nearly growls.
“I can see that you're distraught over this loss but that gives you no right to disrespect me like this Minerva.” Dumbledore says, taking on an authoritative tone.
“That gives me every right!” Minerva hisses. “That gives me every right! These are my kids you’re burying!” She shouts “Do you even remember their names?!” “Do you know what their dream career was, or if they preferred tea or coffee? Or how about their eye color?” Minerva asks, working herself into hysterics. “That's easy enough, what color were their eyes?”
“Mr. Black had gray eyes, Minerva.” He sighs.
“And?” She prompts
“And what?”
“The others, Sirius wasn’t the only one you took away from me.”
Another sigh, “This undeserved blame you put on me is getting old Minerva, but because I hold you in such a high regard, and you are emotionally vulnerable right now I shall humor you. Who might you be referring to? Who else have I killed?”
“You can’t even remember their names?” McGonagall chokes out.
“You don’t remember the first of the many you took? Little Regulus Black who came up here begging you to help him, to take him away from his abusive household because he was scared to death that they were going to make him take the mark? Regulus Black who you condemned to a horrible life because he would only serve the war efforts as a spy? Or how about Marlene Mckinon who was murdered along with her whole family?” “Tell me, do you remember Lily Evans and James Potter? Parents of the child who you cherish so dearly. Do you remember how James didn’t even get to revel in his last moments alive because he was killed as soon as he opened the door? Do you remember how lily had to wait upstairs in fear, unable to do anything but wait for death to come and hope her baby made it out alive? How about the brilliant Pandora who mysteriously was working on a spell no one knew about when it backfired and killed her, a little suspicious no? That a young woman with a young child was working with deadly spells just for curiosity’s sake, you sure you didn’t have anything to do with that?” The tears were flowing now as she continued on. “How about Peter Pettigrew who was so scared of dying in a war he didn’t want to be a part of that he became a spy and sold out his best friends in order for protection? Only getting protection for being a spy sounds a little familiar if you ask me.” “ You got Sirus too in the end, you exploited one of his biggest faults, his loyalty. He wanted to protect his friends, then his godson, whose life you destroyed too by the way.” She spat. “Are you going to complete the set with Remus now? Are you going to murder him too like you murdered the rest of them?”
“You think so lowly of me to think that I enjoy death?” Albus inquires.
“No, that's the worst part, you are indifferent. You are uncaring to the slaughter you leave in your wake and you never even give it a second thought. Merlin knows nobody holds you accountable because you write it off as a necessary sacrifice for the war.” Minerva lets the tears spill, unable to hold them back. “I used to trust you blindly, I used to think of you in such an admirable way that it sickens me to think of how foolish I was.”
“Minerva-” He starts.
“No.” She cuts him off harshly. “No more excuses I shall now take my leave, I hope you get what you deserve Albus, truely, and I miss the great man I once believed you were.”