WARNING: Miscarriage, Suicide

This could be seen as another ending of The Sunrise.

I

"Minerva!"

"Hephaira."

"I haven't seen you down here in quite a while, dear," Hephaira Jibberish continued. "I actually believe it might have been even since Oswald was appointed Minister for Magic!" Minerva only nodded. She never had liked the loquacious, gossiping Hephaira very much… She never really would see eye to eye with that woman, and the difference in age certainly didn't have anything to do with it. She was about ten years older than Minerva, and had ten years more experience with gossiping, and getting the details of every little matter going on in the English Wizarding community.

"I'm only here to discuss something with the Minister, concerning the School," Minerva said. "The Headmaster's too occupied with other matters for the time being, and thus, as a Deputy, I'm here."

"Oh, you were already pining away after Dumbledore then, if I recall well!" Hephaira squealed. "I have heard that the two of you got secretly married only a few years after you had ended your education in Magic, and got your degree! You'll never really get me to believe there was absolutely nothing going on between you two at Hogwarts!"

"There wasn't."

"Oh dear! Please, you don't have to lie about that matter to me! I'm sure that more than a few females had some infatuation with him or in my times, with Armando. I'll never get why, though… Oh, and I have heard about the miscarriage as well, Minerva! I'm so sorry. I'm sure that it is very hard on your marriage. Of course it leaves Albus in a very challenging situation. He's got to choose between saving himself, and you… the issues and shame of a divorce, or go after his own happiness, and remarry with a woman able to give him an heir. He's far more famous that you ever were or shall be. I'm sure it would be better that way, really. You would have ended up in a divorce sooner or later either way, whether now or within another ten years. Albus Dumbledore's the type of man that could get quite a lot of women if he wanted. It isn't good to be married to a man who has a load of female admirers at his feet like that."

Both women walked into the lift that would take them to their respective destination.

"Oh, you mustn't take it so hard, Minerva. I'm sure it is better this way. You never really were such a very motherly type. Albus certainly needs a wife who could be with his children since he's so occupied all the time., and you're barely home yourself. The children wouldn't have seen him nor you a lot, and a child needs a mother to really depend upon. You wouldn't have been able to fulfill that role, and give what a child needs either way. You know, that's a very large difference between you and me. I have gotten married to a somewhat less famous wizard here at the Ministry. We both have large families, thus there's usually someone of them available to babysit, and we both have reasonable hours here so that we still have enough time to be with our children as well. When baby number four's born," Hephaira continued, thoughtfully patting her belly, "I'm going to leave my job at the Ministry to be with them more often. Isidore just got an exaltation! He easily earns enough to support all of us, and…"

"Level two…"

Minerva was all too happy, to get rid of the loquacious Hephaira's talking. She really hoped that no one would notice the state in which Hephaira's monologue had left her.

II

"Minerva? Minerva?" Albus called, eventually getting her to look up, and give him her full attention. "Minerva, what's the matter?" He questioned. "You have been gazing at that very same page for over half an hour now. You have been acting unusual since returning."

"Have I?" She questioned, wondering if it really had been so obvious. Of course Minerva couldn't tell him about the conversation – or monologue – with Hephaira earlier that day. He would only tell her otherwise; that he didn't wish to leave her for another, and that he didn't love her any bit less… That he didn't blame her in any way. Blame. Guilt. Something that had mercilessly bothered Minerva ever since hearing that their son hadn't survived, and that she no longer was able to carry any children. Who else, was there to blame?

"You have," Albus whispered, sitting down by her side, and reaching to cover his wife's shaky hand with his. "Something occurred over at the Ministry today?" He asked, at which she immediately shook her head. He sighed, guiding her head into his shoulder, letting her lean upon him. He didn't feel very reassured.

He often returned to that evening in his head later, condemning himself for not having continued on the subject. It might have made a difference. It might not just as well. He never would know now, though.

III

Minerva easily tipped another bottle down her throat, gazing up to discover that had been the last one of the collection Albus' and her cabinet had contained. She had no idea about whatever she had all poured down, but the cocktail of various colors of potions made her feel like vomiting. She sincerely hoped that all would be as she had often enough run over in her head, and that she wouldn't have to deal with the effect of such potentially dangerous cocktail in one's system. Maybe she secretly hoped it was very dangerous.

She quietly reached for the shiny razor blade, pushing aside a few downed bottles near where she sat on her knees, barely able to hold her head upright. She momentarily shook her head to focus again, for she felt unbelievably dizzy as if after bottles, and bottles of the somewhat stronger Firewhiskey. "I love you, Albus…" she whispered, letting her eyes fall shut, and running the edge of the blade across the skin on her wrist hard. It broke through nearly immediately, burgundy red blood surfacing. She quietly let the blade fall down on the tiles, feeling the intense white hot pain, and the blood rapidly running… She quietly eyed the stain of deep red in her robes become larger; feel herself weaken fast in one way or another, and all thought left her mind as unconsciousness took over.

When Albus later discovered his wife that way, about two hours later, all aid already would come in vain for her. In fact, aid was already futile since the day Hephaira convinced her in not so certain ways that maybe everyone was better off without her. Minerva had walked about since that day, already mindful that that pain deep within would eventually claim her life. Some thought it selfish to commit suicide, and cowardly. However, would it have been better to allow the ones you love to watch you waste away day by day by their side, with nothing or no one able to make a difference? Would that have been better? No, if it would take her life in the end either way, it would be when, and how Minerva wanted. She had chosen for a rather beautiful April 16th, when the Lilies of the Valley already dared take a peek above the Earth. She actually had held on for about four months after the miscarriage – ironically enough the number of months their baby had survived in her womb.