A Cup of Tea

Minerva McGonagall hung her robe in her wardrobe and placed her hat in its place on top. It had been her routine every night since she had taken the Transfiguration position all those years ago. She thrived on routine and order.

Sadly, her stalwarts were unraveling.

Voldemort had returned. In response, the Order of the Phoenix had been reborn to face a war on two fronts: Voldemort and the Ministry. Soon, even Hogwarts was a battlefield.

Eventually, even the Ministry was convinced of Voldemort’s return. Once more the Dark Lord was terrorizing the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. Now that his veil of secrecy was gone, he attacked without subtlety.

Even the Muggles were beginning to notice that something was wrong. Each day brought news of more death and destruction. And they had lost so much already.

Cedric Diggory. Sirius Black. Amelia Bones. Emmaline Vance. Albus Dumbledore.

Minerva conjured a cup of tea as she settled into a chair. She smiled sadly into her cup. How many evenings had she and Albus discussed matters over a cup of tea?

He had helped her so much in her early days as a teacher. Over time she had begun to share confidences with Albus. She eventually began to consider him her friend.

And now Albus was gone, she thought as she took a sip of her tea. Now that the funeral was over, the students were gone as well. Hogwarts was empty and facing an uncertain future.

Would Hogwarts remain open? The governors would decide that question soon. Should Hogwarts remain open? She didn’t know. The Wizarding world was a dangerous place now and Hogwarts could no longer be considered a safe haven.

She took another sip of her tea. There was also the Order to consider. Albus had directed its work. Who would lead them now? Remus Lupin? Kingsley Shacklebolt? Her?

“I wish you were still here,” she murmured.

However wishing would not change anything. The war would rage on. Others would fall in the fight. It was inevitable.

She finished her cup of tea. Sleep would not come easy tonight like every night for the past several months. However, she needed to rest.

Since Harry had told of Voldemort’s return, the future had been an uncertain prospect. Now the future appeared that much darker. Which side would prevail?

‘Not Voldemort’s,’ she vowed. ‘He will not win.’

With that conviction, she went to bed.


A Cup of Tea Minerva McGonagall hung her robe in her wardrobe and placed her hat in its place on top. It had been her routine every night since she had taken the Transfiguration position all those years ago. She thrived on routine and order. Sadly, her stalwarts were unraveling. Voldemort had returned. In response, the Order of the Phoenix had been reborn to face a war on two fronts: Voldemort and the Ministry. Soon, even Hogwarts was a battlefield. Eventually, even the Ministry was convinced of Voldemort’s return. Once more the Dark Lord was terrorizing the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. Now that his veil of secrecy was gone, he attacked without subtlety. Even the Muggles were beginning to notice that something was wrong. Each day brought news of more death and destruction. And they had lost so much already. Cedric Diggory. Sirius Black. Amelia Bones. Emmaline Vance. Albus Dumbledore. Minerva conjured a cup of tea as she settled into a chair. She smiled sadly into her cup. How many evenings had she and Albus discussed matters over a cup of tea? He had helped her so much in her early days as a teacher. Over time she had begun to share confidences with Albus. She eventually began to consider him her friend. And now Albus was gone, she thought as she took a sip of her tea. Now that the funeral was over, the students were gone as well. Hogwarts was empty and facing an uncertain future. Would Hogwarts remain open? The governors would decide that question soon. Should Hogwarts remain open? She didn’t know. The Wizarding world was a dangerous place now and Hogwarts could no longer be considered a safe haven. She took another sip of her tea. There was also the Order to consider. Albus had directed its work. Who would lead them now? Remus Lupin? Kingsley Shacklebolt? Her? “I wish you were still here,” she murmured. However wishing would not change anything. The war would rage on. Others would fall in the fight. It was inevitable. She finished her cup of tea. Sleep would not come easy tonight like every night for the past several months. However, she needed to rest. Since Harry had told of Voldemort’s return, the future had been an uncertain prospect. Now the future appeared that much darker. Which side would prevail? ‘Not Voldemort’s,’ she vowed. ‘He will not win.’ With that conviction, she went to bed.


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