I Saw My Lady Weep

Chapter Five: This Flesh And Bone...

At Harry's words, McGonagall stopped moving and seemed to stare into nothing. "Yes, Harry, I am very troubled." The familiarity expressed in her use of Harry's first name was also bothersome. He'd come to respect her "distant but fair and caring" nature, and its disappearance shocked him. "I do believe my time at Hogwarts will be ending. I just... can't face it any longer. I will do my duty to my House and to Albus Dumbledore, and lead Hogwarts out of this crisis and on into a brighter day, but then... I do believe I shall retire, Harry."

Harry looked doubtful. "You'll forgive me, Professor, but I can't picture you..."

McGonagall laughed, even as she interrupted him. "You can't picture me, say, in a back garden, tending to a bed of tulips? I assure you, Mister Potter... I wish to return to my cottage in Milngavie and that exact thing." She sighed. "I've been a teacher here at the school for a long and sometimes painful time... there was nothing else I've ever wanted to do. But now, I think, it's time for me to rest a bit. I'm seventy-three, after all... I'm no spring chicken, anymore."

She smiled at Harry, sadly. "Now... let's enjoy a quiet meal together, and talk of more pleasant things." And with that, she joined them.

XxxxxxX

Harry and Ginny found themselves still sitting with Minerva McGonagall several hours later. Neither of them had ever found much opportunity to speak to their former Head of House on a personal level, and they were finding it quite refreshing.

"I never knew that your younger brother was a Squib, Professor," Harry admitted.

"Of course not, Mister Potter. Though I've always been quite fond of you and many of your classmates, I've never promoted the sort of familiarity that such knowledge would require," McGonagall admonished.

"We've always been very fond of you too, Professor. Everyone in Gryffindor is," Ginny said.

McGonagall's expression became softer and more kindly. "Thank you, Miss Weasley. I truly appreciate that. I've always endeavored to give my students the utmost respect, and to encourage them to live up to Gryffindor ideals. It has, I admit, been more difficult with some students than with others."

"You never had children of your own, did you, Professor?" Harry asked out of nowhere. He suddenly felt concerned for his teacher and mentor.

"No, Mister Potter, I never did." McGonagall got a far-away look for a moment, and then smiled. "My brother Phorbes did his duty and kept the McGonagall name going. After he immigrated to America, he met a perfectly wonderful young witch. She was Muggle-born, and didn't care for a moment that her new husband was only a Squib."

McGonagall sipped her tea for a moment. "So I have two nephews and an entire Quidditch team full of grand-nephews and -nieces. I can live vicariously enough through them, I assure you. No... I long ago came to the decision that I was far to dedicated to my work here to have a family of my own. It wouldn't have been fair to my husband, or any children I might have. Rather, I view all the students in Gryffindor to be my children."

She carefully held Ginny and Harry in her gaze. "Again, some more than others. Oh my, what is happening here?" Harry looked in the direction the Professor was staring, and then grinned.

Ginny turned to look, and was surprised and amused by what she saw. Neville Longbottom was... well... striding was the best word for it... out the Great Hall toward the main stairs, the ones leading up to the Gryffindor common room. On his arm floated Luna Lovegood. She seemed to Harry to be a an entirely different girl from one he knew as his friend, and she stared at Neville as if the young Gryffindor was made of pure gold. As the pair passed their table, Luna leaned in and asked something just loud enough for Harry, Ginny, and McGonagall to hear. In response, Neville suddenly became as red as the Gryffindor banner. But he never stopped walking.

Ginny nearly choked on her tea. "Tell me I didn't just hear Luna Lovegood ask Neville about showing her his sword... Tell me she didn't actually say that."

"Well... *ahem*... I suppose there are certain benefits to being a hero." McGonagall blushed. The Professor coughed gently and then immediately changed the subject. "I admit I am prouder of the members of my House now than I have ever been in all my time at Hogwarts. And I admit... some of you have surprised me greatly. I always knew you were intended for greatness, Mister Potter. And knowing your family history, Miss Weasley, I expected nothing less than the nobility and leadership you have shown over the past year."

McGonagall took a slightly guilty look. "But Mister Longbottom..." She shook her head. "Who knew when he first arrived at this school, a clumsy, pudgy boy who never could get anything right... and he will always be remembered as one of the greatest heroes of this war. I'm afraid to say that I once thought that the Sorting Hat had put him in Gryffindor by mistake."

"Dumbledore knew. He knew what Neville Longbottom was made of all along. He knew the Hat didn't make a mistake at all," Harry admitted. "He told me, at the end of our fifth year."

"After the fight at the Ministry, you mean?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah, after that fight." Harry now had the rapt attention of both women. "You see, there was a prophecy... It went 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will power the Dark Lord knows not.' And as it so happened, there were two children born shortly thereafter who qualified."

Harry very pointedly did not mention the rest of the prophecy. There would be lots of time to discuss that with Ginny in private. "Did either of you know that Neville's just one day older than I am? He was born on July 30^th, 1980; I was born on the very next day, July 31^st. And both my parents and his 'defied the Dark Lord' three separate times. He could have just as easily become the Boy-Who-Lived as I did."

"So why didn't he?" Ginny asked. She was bothered by the thought of the prophecy, but couldn't put her finger on why. "Why was it you and not Neville?"

"Well, according to Dumbledore, it was because Voldemort himself chose me. He 'marked me as an equal' by giving me this scar," Harry answered, holding his bangs up to show his scar.

"Well then... It seems Mister Longbottom was destined for greatness, just as you were Mister Potter. I'll have you know I'm proud of both of you," McGonagall assured Harry. "You both performed splendidly."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing.

The silence threatened to grow uncomfortable for a moment, before Ginny spoke. "Harry, did you know your scar isn't lightning bolt-shaped any longer? It's a sort of messy W-shape now."

"Really?" he asked. Harry brought a hand up and touched his scar. He remembered thinking it felt differently when he woke up that morning, but hadn't really thought about it again all day. "Er... I suppose that's from when he hit me with the Killing Curse, out in the forest."

"Wait... what?" McGonagall was aghast. "Mister Potter, are you telling me you survived the Killing Curse twice?"

Harry nodded, grimly. He knew he'd have to have this conversation, with Ginny at least, sooner or later. He might as well get it over with. "Yeah... You see, Professor, during Voldemort's cease-fire, I... was... well... Professor Snape provided me with some information as he was dying. He'd been murdered by Voldemort, and as he was dying he passed the knowledge on to me. This knowledge let me know what I had to do in order to render Voldemort vulnerable."

"What do you mean by vulnerable, Mister Potter?" McGonagall looked confused. Slowly, cognizant of the growing look of horror on McGonagall's face, Harry explained about the Horcruxes, and about the bond of blood between himself and Tom Riddle.

"We... Ron and Hermione and I, I mean, had already destroyed all the other Horcruxes. The only ones left were Voldemort's snake and my scar. So I knew what I had to do." Harry sounded much more matter-of-fact than he felt. In truth, thinking of just walking into Voldemort's camp and to his death still gave him chills.

Harry reached across the table and grasped one of Ginny's hands. Her eyes had become tear-filled; she was shaking in her seat, trying hard not to begin crying again. "Ginny... It's okay. I'm right here, and nothing's going to take me away from you ever again."

McGonagall cleared her throat. "But how did you know it would work, Harry?" The familiar manner in which she used his first name was no less shocking to him the second time she did it as the first. "How did you know that the Killing Curse would destroy the Horcrux but not slay you as well?"

Harry was silent. This was going to be the hard part for Ginny, he knew, but it had to be said. "Technically, it did slay me." Ginny's eyes went wide and Harry sawher face turn white as a sheet. "Or perhaps I should say that it came close. I think... I don't know... it's beginning to get fuzzy, my memory of it... But I had this vision, and Professor Dumbledore was there. And he gave me the choice of coming back and finishing my job."

He looked Ginny in the eyes and smiled. "But I didn't come back for that. I came back for you. I had to come back to you, Ginny. I promised you I would."

"It destroyed the Horcrux in your scar. And then Mister Longbottom... How did Longbottom know to kill Voldemort's snake? Did you somehow plan it, Mister Potter?" McGonagall looked shocked and amazed.

"Er... Sort of... I simply told him that no matter what else, no matter what happened or what he saw or heard; Voldemort's snake had to die. I told him to kill the snake," Harry explained. "I trusted he'd get it done; Neville himself arranged the circumstances."

That caused another long bout of silence. This time, it was uncomfortable and seemed like it would end their conversation. It was once again Ginny who broke the awkwardness that had grown between Harry and McGonagall.

"It will be difficult, thinking of Hogwarts without you being here, Professor." Ginny took a sip of her tea. "You're one of its great institutions, if you don't mind me saying so."

McGonagall laughed. It was a haunted, almost desperate sound. "I'm not quite old enough to be called an institution. At least I don't think I am." She took a long, thoughtful look at the High Table. "I do wish I had never been called to take his place." Both Ginny and Harry knew precisely of whom the new Headmistress spoke.

Harry, too, was staring at the Headmaster's chair. Almost a throne, really, Harry thought to himself. "A long time ago, just after my unfortunate encounter with Professor Quirrell, he... Professor Dumbledore, I mean... said something to me I don't think I'll ever forget. He said that to the well-organized mind, death was but the next great adventure."

"I don't know if anyone would ever call his mind the most organized... He loved mischief too much, I think." McGonagall smiled, but it was a sad sort of smile. "I always envied his sense of humor, you know."