Chapter 31

Thinking over everything that Ronald had said during their chat all those weeks ago, Minerva came to the conclusion that she'd have to talk with Albus, and possibly Ronald to help her come up with something that she hadn't already considered and thrown to the side. That being said, it was the other part of her conversation with the youngest Weasley male that had her wound up. She'd planned on talking to Harry about their relationship and how it couldn't move beyond what it was already, but every time she'd tried to talk to him, he disappeared, either going to meet with the Headmaster, or doing something else that he wasn't sharing with her. If she was honest, she would admit that it hurt that Harry didn't seem to trust her anymore, but if her suspicions were correct about his coming and goings, then he was doing it to avoid being lectured once more.

Still, that didn't help.

It had been weeks since they'd even sat down at night in front of the fire, and with Ronald busy with Lavender and Hermione ignoring them all, it showed just how little she'd managed to change from her first time as a student. She hadn't made many friends then either. Even little Stephen, who'd shot up over the holidays was busy and barely had time to talk with her, though she did help him with his work when he asked.

So it was quite the shock when late at night, long after curfew, Harry walked into the common room and sat down beside her on the sofa with a heavy sigh. He looked like he wasn't sleeping again.

"What's wrong?" She asked, setting aside her book.

"You mean besides the fact that we're at war and everyones counting on a barely trained wizard to take down someones who has years of experience behind them?"

Minerva let the sarcastic response roll off her back, this time at least, "Yes, besides that."

"I need to get something from Slughorn, but he clams up anytime I try." Harry leant back, his head hanging over the back of the sofa, "I don't know what to do. Dumbledore's counting on me."

Minerva frowned, "What is it he wants you to do?"

When Harry hesitated, she felt her lips thin.

Harry also caught sight of the action and sighed again. He knew she was upset with him for not talking to her about what was going on, and he wanted to. He truly wanted to. However the Headmaster had asked him, actually, all but ordered him, to keep what he learned from Minerva. Though he didn't say anything about Ron or Hermione, so after some quick thinking, he decided to tell her.

"Our lessons are about Riddle, er…Voldemort. He wants me to learn as much about him as possible by viewing memories he's collected in the last year about his life. Except one, which seems to be pretty important, has been changed somehow and now he wants me to get the actual memory from Slughorn."

Sitting there in silence, Minerva wondered what could be so bad that Horace would change the memory.

"Have you considered explaining what you need it for?" She asked after some time.

Harry shook his head, "He knows."

Again they fell into silence. And as they sat there, Minerva watched Harry stare into the dying flames of the fire and decided to leave the talk about them for another time.

Months had gone by and Minerva still hadn't had the chance to talk to Harry. Although with how distracted Harry was with his 'mission', they rarely spent any time together besides the odd night on the sofa after everyone had gone to bed. Which sadly helped her case. Rumours had started circulating that they'd broken up since her relation to their dreaded Deputy had come out and she'd done nothing to dispute them, neither had Ronald after he'd brought them to her attention. Harry was to wrapped up in everything else to notice them, and as neither she nor Ronald was going to bring his attention to them, and Hermione would prefer not to ever think about her, let alone talk about her, it was safe to say he would remain oblivious to them for a while.

However, as Christmas drew closer, Harry asked her to join him on the Hogsmeade weekend. She hadn't even tried to say no. It was actually embarrassing how fast she'd said yes, but she'd missed him…and she needed to go shopping for presents.

So it was some enthusiasm that she left her room to join the others for the walk down to the small town. Stepping out into the common room, she found the trio waiting for in front of the fire, though only two looked pleased to see her. Smiling in greeting, she tugged on the thin leather gloves so she wouldn't have to when they reached the cold entrance hall.

"I apologise for being late, I had to finish writing a letter."

Ron smirked, "Hope you told the Professor we said hello."

Even as she stared at him, unimpressed, she could see Harry turn away from Hermione to keep her from seeing the barely held back laughter.

"I told her all about your falling grades in Transfiguration. She will be most disappointed when she reads that."

Instantly the smirk fell from Ron's face and appeared on Minerva's.

"Shall we?" She asked, heading for the portrait hole.

Behind her, Harry slapped his best friend on his back, shaking his head in amusement.

After spending an enjoyable day with the other three Gryffindors, they were heading back to the castle, hoping to make it back in time to rest before having to go to dinner. They were walking in pairs, with a giggling Hermione holding on to Ronald from when she slipped just outside the Three Broomsticks. Looking back over her shoulder, Minerva pressed her lips together to keep herself from laughing at the sight. She knew it would be unappreciated, but she couldn't help but be happy that trio were actually acting like friends again, instead of just existing around each other.

Things had been so stressed between them all with things unsaid and ignored. It's a miracle things hadn't blown up yet. She wondered when the other shoe would drop.

A light touch on her arm drew her attention back to the world around her.

"You okay Min?"

Turning to Harry, she gave a small smile, "Fine. Just thinking about those two back there." She said, give a nod to the pair behind them.

Looking over his shoulder to his two friends, Harry gave a quiet laugh, "They'll figure it out at some point." Glancing back to Minerva, he grinned.

She couldn't help but think that the accompanying twinkle in his eyes was rather like Albus.

"And if they don't, Hermione will beat it into his thick skull. Have faith." He whispered, looping her arm through his.

"I thought for sure they'd figure it out last year," she rolled her eyes, "Was I off the mark on that or what."

Harry snorted, "Last year was the least conductive year for romance," he frowned, "About this time last year, we were trying to get the other students to learn Defence."

Pausing he looked at Minerva, "Actually, you were wearing the same outfit."

With a frown of her own, Minerva looked down at her tartan coat and jeans, "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Nothing."

"Then why bring it up?"

Cheeks red from something other then the cool wind, Harry gave a small shrug, "I was trying to work up to my question about your shoes."

Opening her mouth the speak, Minerva tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind. So she just stood there waiting, staring at him.

It didn't long.

"Why aren't you wearing heels?"

Exhaling forcibly, Minerva turned her head up, looking to the sky as though it would give her guidance. It didn't.

Looking back to the young man, who stood there expectantly, Minerva shook her head and reloaded her arm through his, tugging him along as she started walking once more.

"Last year, the Dark Lord and his followers were in hiding, they wouldn't attack in broad daylight, however this year they're not. While I can fight in heels if necessary, it is much easier to injure yourself if you misstep in them. These are easier and safer to fight in."

"You thought we might be attacked," he whispered as the realisation sunk in.

"I thought it a possibility. I merely wished to be prepared if that was the case."

They fell into silence after that. Each turning over thoughts about what could possibly happen in such a situation and how they could best prepare for it. Neither of them noticed the two girls in front of them until a shrill scream pierced the frozen air.

There was the other shoe.

That night on the sofa, Minerva sat ram rod straight, her mind replaying the memory of Katie Bell being raised into the air screaming. Beside her, Harry sat slumped into the corner of the over padded chair.

"It was Malfoy."

"There's no proof."

"There was no proof that I was the one behind the attacks in second year, yet everyone still believed it was me."

No more was said that night.

Soon after the incident with the necklace, the Christmas break was upon them. Unsurprisingly very few of the older years were celebrating, but they tried there hardest around the younger students who didn't quite understand that this may just be their last Christmas with their families. From what Minerva gathered, all but a few of the Gryffindors were going home, only those whose parents deemed the risk too much. She couldn't blame them. She'd seen what had happened last time.

However, as much as she wished otherwise, Harry and the Weasleys weren't among those staying. They were all going to the Burrow and so was she. She wasn't sure why she'd been invited, but she figured it had something to do with Harry and Ronald. She didn't ask and she wouldn't.

The night before they left, she was once more sitting on the sofa, a fire roaring and a thick blanket wrapped around her legs to keep her warm. It was past midnight and she was hoping she'd catch Harry before he know doubt stumbled up to bed after yet another lesson with Albus.

She wasn't all that pleased with her old friend. He was barely talking to her now. Anything she learnt about what was going on, came from Harry or on the one occasion, Ronald. She now understood first hand how Harry felt the previous year. Not knowing what was truly going on was horrible. How was she to act if she didn't know all the information? How was she to help the students?

Before she could slip any further into her anger, the portrait opened and revealed a pale Harry. Acting quickly she kicked the blanket from her legs and hurried to his side, guiding him to the sofa.

"What has happened?" She asked, her accent thickening in her concern.

She didn't get an answer, just a vague shake of the head and she sighed, sitting back down beside him. She hesitated in actually offering him comfort, having yet to manage to sit him down to talk, but with another look at his pale features, she gave into the urge.

Settling into the corner of the sofa, she gently pulled him into her side, easing his head to rest against her shoulder.

They didn't speak until the sun came up and they needed to ready themselves for the day.

Minerva was happy that Harry got to enjoy some time with those he loved for Christmas, but her fear that they were in a known area proved to be true. She'd know that no matter what precautions Albus had taken to make it safe, all of it would be for nothing if even one person left the wards. All her concerns had fallen on deaf ears. And now she was standing in front of her fear.

The Burrow was burning.

And Harry had fled after Bellatrix in fit of rage.

Ronald and Remus had gone after him.

And then the upper level of the house was on fire.

She couldn't help Harry, but she could stop the Weasleys from losing everything. Taking a calming breath, she her wand and hand up in front of her, as though she was trying to tame an enraged beast and started chanting under her breath. While the others were trying to put the magical fire out with jets of water, she was smothering it with her own magic. Come morning she would barely be able to move from how much power she was using, but it would be worth it. The Weasleys had treated her as one of their own, both as Professor McGonagall and as Mindy. She would gladly do this time and time again for them.

Around her, those who had stayed behind watched in confusion as the flames slowly died out. They stood staring at the broken windows, wands still at the ready just in case. Each one asking themselves what was happening.

None of them moved until Molly turned around at the feeling of overwhelming magic pressing down on her to see the young woman she'd accepted into her family, sweaty and barely standing, wand pointed at the house. Eyes widening, she rushed to her side, only just reaching her as she collapsed.

Arms wrapped around her securely, she looked up at her husband in astonishment.

Standing back, surrounded by those he considered family, Arthur stared at the unconscious girl in his wife's arms.

They both knew that if it wasn't for her, they'd be homeless.

The next time Minerva opened her eyes she was laid out on the the worn sofa in the living room of the Burrow. Even in the dark she knew instantly where she was as she'd grown accustomed to the specific feeling of magic that lingered in the house. She tried to roll on to her side, but just as she knew she would, she couldn't move. Her body felt like lead. A sign of extreme magical exhaustion. Sighing, she stared up at the ceiling.

"Min?"

"Harry?"

The sound of someone shuffling closer told her that Harry had been lying on the floor, most likely awake from the clearness of his voice.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, carefully taking one of her hands.

When she didn't grip it back, Harry pulled back, trying to see what was wrong with what little morning light that was coming through the windows.

"Madam Pomfrey said you we're magically exhausted. I-I don't know what that means?"

"I'll be fine. I've just emptied my core, for lack of a better description."

"Is-Is that why you can't move right now?"

Hearing the fear lacing his tone, Minerva gave a small tired smile.

"Yes," she sighed, "In order for my core to regain strength, I need to rest. The heaviness is a symptom that prevents a person from being up and about, using what little energy they have left."

Nodding slowly, Harry asked the next question on his list, "How long will you be like this for? Madam Pomfrey didn't say, at least not about the heaviness?"

"How long have I been unconscious for?"

"Well you lost consciousness around ten last night and and it's dawn now, so about eight or nine hours?"

If she could, Minerva would have nodded. It sounded right, which was good, because it meant she wouldn't be sofa bound for days.

"I should be able to move about by this afternoon, though I have no doubt I'll be able to cast for a while yet."

"What exactly did you do?" Harry asked after some time, "No one could tell me, and Mrs Weasley wouldn't tell me after Madam Pomfrey told her."

Minerva frowned, "The fire that was burning the upper level was a magical one. It couldn't have been put out with water like they were trying, but rather the magic feeling it needed to be smothered by another magic. So that's what I did." Closing her eyes, she sighed, "I don't know why she wouldn't tell you."

For a few minutes, the two stayed silent, each running over the events of the previous night and how lucky they were. But as the room was filled with the warm morning light, Minerva realised that for the first time in months the two had a moment to themselves. It was time to have that chat.

Only, as she went to speak, the sound of multiple feet coming down the numerous stairs brought her up short.

With another sigh, she left it for another day.

Almost two years since the last update. I know it's been a long wait, but in those two years I've regained my interest in writing, so fingers crossed it won't be such a long wit for the next chapter.

Thanks for sticking with me.

Ro.