Post by micha on Sept 1, 2009 16:22:04 GMT -5
When I finished reading the last HP 2 years ago, I just had to write this additional chapter; but I did so in German; now I have found so many English-language Minerva-fans and a wonderful beta-reader in "dianahawthorne" 
, so I am motivated to translate it into English:
This is part 1 of 3:
As Harry woke up from his exhausted sleep, his senses took in his surroundings. They found it familiar – the smell of old wood and dusty curtains, the way the mattress fit his back so comfortably, and the light of the moon falling on his face from the window in just the right angle. But something was wrong, and as he had spent the last months in constant vigillance he woke up with a start.
He recognized his dormitory in Gryffindor Tower at once, and he also realized what had alarmed him subconsciously – he was alone.
The room, the whole tower, was absolutely quiet. And like a wave, the memories of last night flooded back into Harry’s mind. With a groan he sank back on the bed: Yes, it was all over, it was finished! He had reached his goal, Voldemort was dead. He, Harry, had done what the magic world had expected him to do and brought him down in a duel.
Well, what had really brought down the Dark Lord in the end had been the legendary Elder Wand, in whose powers he trusted but whose loyalty he could not claim.
Harry felt tremendously relieved, the heavy burden of responsibility that had worn him out was gone – but now a big hollow emptiness and a desperate pain had taken its place, making him press his face into his pillow and swallow hard. He saw it again, the picture of the Great Hall filled with the long lines of dead and wounded: Remus and Tonks, Fred, Colin and so many others, they had not survived the last battle. And he remembered how Luna had helped him to get away from it all when he could not stand it any longer. She had proved herself a wonderful friend, just like Neville, who had surprised them all by taking down Nagini, the last of the Horcruxes. Maybe the prophecy had been so unspecific for a reason, not deciding if he or Neville were the chosen one, as they both had their part to play to bring down the Dark Lord?
Harry was not able to stay in the dormitory any longer. It seemed he had slept through the whole day that followed the night of the battle, after leaving the Headmaster’s office with Ron and Hermione and telling them he needed some rest. Where might they all have spent the last hours? But being wizards should enable them to create room to sleep even in the heavily damaged castle. He threw his robes on and went down the stairs into the common room. It seemed empty on the first glance, but the fire was burning, and when he entered, he realized that Professor McGonagall was sitting in one of the armchairs, obviously waiting for him.
“Good evening, Harry. Would you please join me for a while?” she asked him quietly. Harry sat down in the chair facing her and noticed with a shock that his Head of House, who had been such a pillar of strength and determination yesterday night, radiating a power one would not expect of the slender, elderly lady at first glance, obviously had not found any sleep since then. And he also suspected that she had cried.
Harry recalled the moment when Voldemort had presented what he thought was his dead body to the people assembled in Hogwarts. The intensity of the pain of his former teacher had come as a surprise to him. He realized now that he had never given any thought to the woman who filled the position of Professor for Transfiguration, Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress. He had taken her for granted, trusted her unconditionally from the first day of his starting school at Hogwarts, and when he had witnessed her being insulted at Ravenclaw Tower yesterday it had made him so angry that he had been driven to cast a Cruciatus Curse for the first time in his life. But he had never tried to imagine what she might be feeling in her position. Hermione used to enlighten Ron and himself with such kind of contemplations, but she was with Ron and his family now. Harry held back a sigh, somehow he still felt like an outsider, separated from the rest of their society.
“Harry, there are several things I would like to talk with you about.”
Harry looked up and caught Minerva McGonagall’s eyes. With a slight raising of her eyebrows she reacted to his evident surprise and continued. “A great part of Wizarding society is here at Hogwarts at the moment, and still without an official leadership. Kingsley has Apparated back to London though and I expect him to be named the new Minister in a matter of hours.
She hesitated for a short moment. “I think that I am seen as the future Headmistress, so I will give orders about how to proceed around here, but before I do so I would like to discuss a few matters with you.”
Harry was surprised at how natural it felt to be addressed in this manner by his former Professor, almost as if he was a colleague. He had to decide so many things of grave importance all by himself these last days that he saw himself how much he had changed, that he had grown up and placed into a position of authority that he had to find a way to handle now.
The Headmistress stood up slowly, turned and stopped in front of the fireplace.
“We have been able to restore the hospital wing today, and some healers from St.Mungo’s have joined us, so most of the wounded and their families can stay here for the moment. But the families whose members are all able to travel, and the ones who will want to bring a dead family member home to be buried will start to prepare to leave during the day.”
Harry looked at his former Head of House questioningly. It was obvious that she found it hard to come to the point troubling her, as she now turned again and stepped over to the window. Out on the grounds the first clouds of fog began to cover the meadows.
“There is one of the dead who has no family to mourn him.”
Her words hung in the room as if not addressed to somebody specific, and Harry felt his stomach go tense with dread. He recalled how he had suddenly realized yesterday that there was something that connected him, Professor Snape and Lord Voldemort – for all three of them Hogwarts had been their only true home.
Harry stared at his hands he had clenched together in his lap. He would not be here today without Ron and Hermione’s friendship, and even in the Order the people fighting against Voldemort always had a group of other members to call on. But Professor Snape had been forced to kill the only person who could be counted as a friend. Harry could only start to imagine how lonely this man must have been, and all the time he had only been thinking about him filled with anger and hatred.
“How did Severus die, Harry? What happened exactly? Why did you know the truth all of a sudden?”
Minerva McGonagall had returned to the armchairs at the fireplace and sat down in the one next to the fire. Now it was Harry who could not sit still but began pacing up and down the room. At first searching for the right words after each sentence, and then faster and faster as he gained confidence, he told her about what happened in the Shrieking Shack and then about the memories he got to see in the Pensieve. The Headmistress did not interrupt. If it was at all possible she turned paler than she had been and slumped further down in the armchair. At last, after a few minutes of silence, she had regained her composure and spoke.
“I’ll bring his body back to the castle and will organize his funeral for tomorrow. Everybody should delay their departure until after then. I do remember the discussion we had after Albus’ death, that it is not customary to bury the Headmaster on the school grounds, but you were very much in favour of this idea back then….would you support me on this now, too, Harry?”
During her last words, Harry had taken the position at the window and he glanced across towards the lake. The white, marble tomb of Albus Dumbledore was lit by the moonlight and stood shining in front of the glittering surface of water.
“I want to get him out of the Shrieking Shack myself”, he stated, “ and I will take Ron and Hermione along. We transported him out of there once already, three years ago. Back then we had attacked him, as we saw him as our enemy….and a short time later he protected us from a werewolf… I do think we owe it to him…” he added quietly.
Professor McGonagall stepped next to Harry and put a hand lightly on his shoulder. She also let her eyes wander over to the lakeshore.
“Very well, then – I will prepare the ceremony.”
After a moment of silence Harry cleared his voice: “I suggest you ask Draco if he wants to carry the coffin. Professor Snape was his Head of House after all, and there are not too many Slytherins left here now.” He hesitated a little before he continued: “Draco’s mother protected me yesterday in the forest. Nobody else noticed this. Her love for her son was stronger than her loyalty to Voldemort.”
The Headmistress looked at Harry deep in thoughts. “Ah, so this is the reason for the presence of the Malfoy family within the castle. I am very glad nobody has asked about that yet. Now is not the right time to sit trial over somebody.”
Harry had almost reached the entrance of the common room in order to leave and find Ron and Hermione, when he heard Minerva McGonagall’s quiet request: “Would you mind to accompany me to the Headmaster’s office, Harry? It may seem strange to you, but I dread taking my place up there right now. It is much harder than it has been after Albus’ death.” Her voice sounded unusual cracked and Harry turned back to her and nodded silently. Then he held the portrait hole open for her and they both stepped out into the dark corridor.
, so I am motivated to translate it into English:This is part 1 of 3:
As Harry woke up from his exhausted sleep, his senses took in his surroundings. They found it familiar – the smell of old wood and dusty curtains, the way the mattress fit his back so comfortably, and the light of the moon falling on his face from the window in just the right angle. But something was wrong, and as he had spent the last months in constant vigillance he woke up with a start.
He recognized his dormitory in Gryffindor Tower at once, and he also realized what had alarmed him subconsciously – he was alone.
The room, the whole tower, was absolutely quiet. And like a wave, the memories of last night flooded back into Harry’s mind. With a groan he sank back on the bed: Yes, it was all over, it was finished! He had reached his goal, Voldemort was dead. He, Harry, had done what the magic world had expected him to do and brought him down in a duel.
Well, what had really brought down the Dark Lord in the end had been the legendary Elder Wand, in whose powers he trusted but whose loyalty he could not claim.
Harry felt tremendously relieved, the heavy burden of responsibility that had worn him out was gone – but now a big hollow emptiness and a desperate pain had taken its place, making him press his face into his pillow and swallow hard. He saw it again, the picture of the Great Hall filled with the long lines of dead and wounded: Remus and Tonks, Fred, Colin and so many others, they had not survived the last battle. And he remembered how Luna had helped him to get away from it all when he could not stand it any longer. She had proved herself a wonderful friend, just like Neville, who had surprised them all by taking down Nagini, the last of the Horcruxes. Maybe the prophecy had been so unspecific for a reason, not deciding if he or Neville were the chosen one, as they both had their part to play to bring down the Dark Lord?
Harry was not able to stay in the dormitory any longer. It seemed he had slept through the whole day that followed the night of the battle, after leaving the Headmaster’s office with Ron and Hermione and telling them he needed some rest. Where might they all have spent the last hours? But being wizards should enable them to create room to sleep even in the heavily damaged castle. He threw his robes on and went down the stairs into the common room. It seemed empty on the first glance, but the fire was burning, and when he entered, he realized that Professor McGonagall was sitting in one of the armchairs, obviously waiting for him.
“Good evening, Harry. Would you please join me for a while?” she asked him quietly. Harry sat down in the chair facing her and noticed with a shock that his Head of House, who had been such a pillar of strength and determination yesterday night, radiating a power one would not expect of the slender, elderly lady at first glance, obviously had not found any sleep since then. And he also suspected that she had cried.
Harry recalled the moment when Voldemort had presented what he thought was his dead body to the people assembled in Hogwarts. The intensity of the pain of his former teacher had come as a surprise to him. He realized now that he had never given any thought to the woman who filled the position of Professor for Transfiguration, Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress. He had taken her for granted, trusted her unconditionally from the first day of his starting school at Hogwarts, and when he had witnessed her being insulted at Ravenclaw Tower yesterday it had made him so angry that he had been driven to cast a Cruciatus Curse for the first time in his life. But he had never tried to imagine what she might be feeling in her position. Hermione used to enlighten Ron and himself with such kind of contemplations, but she was with Ron and his family now. Harry held back a sigh, somehow he still felt like an outsider, separated from the rest of their society.
“Harry, there are several things I would like to talk with you about.”
Harry looked up and caught Minerva McGonagall’s eyes. With a slight raising of her eyebrows she reacted to his evident surprise and continued. “A great part of Wizarding society is here at Hogwarts at the moment, and still without an official leadership. Kingsley has Apparated back to London though and I expect him to be named the new Minister in a matter of hours.
She hesitated for a short moment. “I think that I am seen as the future Headmistress, so I will give orders about how to proceed around here, but before I do so I would like to discuss a few matters with you.”
Harry was surprised at how natural it felt to be addressed in this manner by his former Professor, almost as if he was a colleague. He had to decide so many things of grave importance all by himself these last days that he saw himself how much he had changed, that he had grown up and placed into a position of authority that he had to find a way to handle now.
The Headmistress stood up slowly, turned and stopped in front of the fireplace.
“We have been able to restore the hospital wing today, and some healers from St.Mungo’s have joined us, so most of the wounded and their families can stay here for the moment. But the families whose members are all able to travel, and the ones who will want to bring a dead family member home to be buried will start to prepare to leave during the day.”
Harry looked at his former Head of House questioningly. It was obvious that she found it hard to come to the point troubling her, as she now turned again and stepped over to the window. Out on the grounds the first clouds of fog began to cover the meadows.
“There is one of the dead who has no family to mourn him.”
Her words hung in the room as if not addressed to somebody specific, and Harry felt his stomach go tense with dread. He recalled how he had suddenly realized yesterday that there was something that connected him, Professor Snape and Lord Voldemort – for all three of them Hogwarts had been their only true home.
Harry stared at his hands he had clenched together in his lap. He would not be here today without Ron and Hermione’s friendship, and even in the Order the people fighting against Voldemort always had a group of other members to call on. But Professor Snape had been forced to kill the only person who could be counted as a friend. Harry could only start to imagine how lonely this man must have been, and all the time he had only been thinking about him filled with anger and hatred.
“How did Severus die, Harry? What happened exactly? Why did you know the truth all of a sudden?”
Minerva McGonagall had returned to the armchairs at the fireplace and sat down in the one next to the fire. Now it was Harry who could not sit still but began pacing up and down the room. At first searching for the right words after each sentence, and then faster and faster as he gained confidence, he told her about what happened in the Shrieking Shack and then about the memories he got to see in the Pensieve. The Headmistress did not interrupt. If it was at all possible she turned paler than she had been and slumped further down in the armchair. At last, after a few minutes of silence, she had regained her composure and spoke.
“I’ll bring his body back to the castle and will organize his funeral for tomorrow. Everybody should delay their departure until after then. I do remember the discussion we had after Albus’ death, that it is not customary to bury the Headmaster on the school grounds, but you were very much in favour of this idea back then….would you support me on this now, too, Harry?”
During her last words, Harry had taken the position at the window and he glanced across towards the lake. The white, marble tomb of Albus Dumbledore was lit by the moonlight and stood shining in front of the glittering surface of water.
“I want to get him out of the Shrieking Shack myself”, he stated, “ and I will take Ron and Hermione along. We transported him out of there once already, three years ago. Back then we had attacked him, as we saw him as our enemy….and a short time later he protected us from a werewolf… I do think we owe it to him…” he added quietly.
Professor McGonagall stepped next to Harry and put a hand lightly on his shoulder. She also let her eyes wander over to the lakeshore.
“Very well, then – I will prepare the ceremony.”
After a moment of silence Harry cleared his voice: “I suggest you ask Draco if he wants to carry the coffin. Professor Snape was his Head of House after all, and there are not too many Slytherins left here now.” He hesitated a little before he continued: “Draco’s mother protected me yesterday in the forest. Nobody else noticed this. Her love for her son was stronger than her loyalty to Voldemort.”
The Headmistress looked at Harry deep in thoughts. “Ah, so this is the reason for the presence of the Malfoy family within the castle. I am very glad nobody has asked about that yet. Now is not the right time to sit trial over somebody.”
Harry had almost reached the entrance of the common room in order to leave and find Ron and Hermione, when he heard Minerva McGonagall’s quiet request: “Would you mind to accompany me to the Headmaster’s office, Harry? It may seem strange to you, but I dread taking my place up there right now. It is much harder than it has been after Albus’ death.” Her voice sounded unusual cracked and Harry turned back to her and nodded silently. Then he held the portrait hole open for her and they both stepped out into the dark corridor.
