AN: HBP Oneshot. Not five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes, just five. She had five minutes to deal with everything that had come her way, and the biggest thing of all would take her a life time to deal with. Implied MMAD. Please review.

Five minutes. That was all the time she had before the minister and school governors would arrive.

Minerva McGonagall was still in shock; so she took this little time to sort out things in the headmaster's office. With another jolt of shock, she realised that it was now her office.

There were no thoughts of anger, only grief and it was with a quiet voice that she spoke the password to the gargoyles.

She climbed up the long stairway; it seemed even longer. She knew everything would be as if it was before. The world changed but His office would still be the same. The spindly instruments still there, His squashy purple couch where she had often times fallen asleep after late night discussions.

She was right. She opened the door and saw the things were as they were when she had left it. When He had been alive.

She looked longingly at the room, trying to picture Him in it, alive and beaming with twinkling eyes. Try as she might, she could not conjure up the image.

She pulled her cold, lined hand out of her robe and lightly fingered the dusty and not so dusty objects around the room. She felt an overwhelming urge to throw up.

This couldn't be. Maybe she was just dreaming. He wasn't allowed to die.

Albus Dumbledore always triumphed. He had always been her hero. He was a better transfiguration teacher than herself; she always aspired to be a good teacher like him.

He once told her that she was better, and she had given a bashful smile as he took her trembling hands.

Minerva McGonagall hands were trembling now and she put them back in the pockets of her robe, owing it to the cold rather than the strength of her emotive memories.

Forgetting all gracefulness, she sunk into the purple chair, wishing she could sleep; fall asleep at the sound of his soothing voice and forget the pain that gripped her heart.

She couldn't though. One minute was all she had. She wouldn't even allow herself to shed a tear, for fear that she would never stop and she would be found in a crumpled tear-stained mess by the important people coming to discuss the fate of His school. Her school.

She couldn't let herself been seen like that.

Perhaps when the meeting was over she would allow herself to grieve and cry for her beloved friend.

She only had thirty seconds to regain her composure.

Minerva reluctantly picked herself up of the chair and smoothed her robe out, making herself look presentable.

She always looked presentable in His eyes, but for the Minister, she had to look like she had some control.

Besides, she had to practice for His… funeral.

A knock came on the door, and for a brief second, Minerva felt a slight comforting pressure on her right shoulder.

It would take her a lot more than five minutes, but she felt that she would be alright. After all, the ones we love never truly leave us.