Chapter 1

Her chocolate colored eyes immediately caught the image upon turning at Poppy's scream, "Minerva!"

The woman in question appeared to be holding onto the very last threads of life, as she lay there pale and motionless upon the stone beneath, a gash across her cheek, robes ripped, showing more gruesome looking injuries she might have endured today in battle or earlier while defending what she thought to be right.

She must have fought very hard to save that what Dumbledore had left her to do. Until then, Hermione too had had difficulties seeing why no one else but Harry, Ron and she herself had been entrusted with the task to take Voldemort down and had gotten the necessary instructions and knowledge to succeed. Seeing that not all Order members were as loyal, like Mundungus, she certainly got his decision on one level.

On another, she never would be able to see why Dumbledore had left the finishing off of Voldemort only to three barely off-age pupils, without sharing anything of what he might have assumed or uncovered to anyone else of the Order. Why hadn't Dumbledore chosen to trust anyone else with more experience, like Minerva McGonagall, who had never showed any more loyalty to him than anyone? Why hadn't he chosen to confide in her, or Remus, or…?

Dumbledore and his Deputy appeared to have been so unbelievably close to each other, with both of them fighting for the same and setting the same values. The one time Hermione had experienced the otherwise rather emotionless Minerva McGonagall in tears was when she heard about the death of her best companion. She hadn't had the strength to give in to her grief at the funeral anymore.

If there was one witch who could be called loyal, it certainly would be Minerva McGonagall. Hermione now realized it had never been a case of not having trusted her, but having trusted upon that loyalty for her to keep Hogwarts running and safe. Without her, Hogwarts possibly wouldn't have existed anymore by this time. The many other professors and pupils never would have lasted as long. Hermione could vividly imagine her talking in upon the others not to give up, though nearly surely in her own little way.

The sad smile that had come over her features upon the imagination immediately disappeared upon focusing on her former Head of House again. The many injuries sustained showed how necessary she had actually been in this battle. She could not let this woman die. She now would need others to talk in on her as well, to tell her not to give up.

Hermione thus ran forward and sank down on her knees by her former Transfiguration Professor, who had collapsed under her lot of injuries and was still barely conscious, while Poppy still hopelessly tried to heal as many of them as possible and fast. Hermione carefully took her hand, internally wincing at the cold and clamminess that had taken over the elder woman's body. True, Professor McGonagall had never been easy-going, but without her Hogwarts wouldn't have lasted a couple of days after Dumbledore.

"Minerva!" Hermione shrieked, using the professor's first name for the very first time. She never would have guessed it would be in this situation, though. She easily leaned over so as not to force Minerva to turn aside her head to be able to look at her former pupil. The teal green eyes that belonged to the elder woman were wan and no longer showed any sign of life. It was then obvious that the lights would leave her eyes soon, never to show any emotion the elder lady might have ever felt again. Minerva's eyes fluttered, but Hermione immediately squeezed her hand. "Don't," Hermione ordered. "Hold on."

Hermione, and Poppy momentarily shared a look of worry. Hermione didn't fail to notice Ron coming up behind her even though occupied and his warm hand on her shoulder. She immediately shrugged it off, as Harry joined them, then shot him a rather upset look. "Please…" Hermione begged, turning to McGonagall once again. Hermione carefully leaned down to touch their foreheads together, and she just let her tears fall. "I know that you're tired, but you cannot give up after all you have done for this school… for us."

Minerva tried to speak; tell her that she had only succeeded in making Alecto and Amycus angrier, even though taking the rage and beatings from both Death Eaters might have saved some pupils from getting hurt instead. Hermione quietly leaned down to let her lips touch the much older woman's, to keep her from talking. "He hasn't doubted your loyalty," Hermione said, aware that that thought would have driven Minerva insane at night, for it sometimes haunted her, too. "He has trusted on it, to keep Hogwarts safe under your guard. As usual, Albus was right." These words might have been the ones she had sought after once she had known about that what Albus had entrusted them with, but never her.

Hermione's eyes carefully slid over the much older woman's body, noting the too many injuries. Some appeared much older than today, even then ranging widely. Some appeared scars of months earlier, others of earlier that particular month or week. More tears welled up in Hermione's eyes. She must have endured a lot to keep Albus' Hogwarts safe.

As Minerva's eyes batted, a tear slid down her cheek to mingle with the many of Hermione. Of course.