Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy, and all these other people are characters belonging to J.K. Rowling. I claim no rights to them, their surroundings, or their situations. Much to my sorrow.

--- 8 McGonagall: Bits of Gingham...

Making her way back to the kitchen, Minerva McGonagall very quickly grew tired of fending off the questions of curious students, and was soon dismissing them with a curt "Mind your own business!"

"My heavens, I am getting too old for this," she murmured, smiling ruefully at the thought of how Albus would laugh at that statement.

Despite her cares of the moment, she smiled, too, at Hermione Granger's unexpected gesture. Had any other Gryffindor made the same request, McGonagall would have turned them down flatly. Even in Hermione's case, she would probably have denied permission, had she not been aware of one crucial fact; a fact which she had passed along at the last moment, with a strict admonition never to reveal it to anyone, least of all Potter and Weasley:

Severus Snape was terrified of hospitals.

McGonagall had reached this conclusion over the course of many years' association with a man whom she had gradually come to regard as a friend. Snape would of course never admit to such a phobia, but his vehement refusal to enter even the hospital wing of Hogwarts, except under extreme duress, was rather a giveaway to those who paid attention.

The one other time that Minerva had seen her colleague admitted to St. Mungo's, he had signed himself out AMA as soon as he'd been able to keep his feet under him, she recalled with a sigh. He would not take this development well at all.

Well, perhaps Hermione's presence would be of some comfort to him, as a familiar face if nothing else. One could hope. Knowing Severus, he was just as likely to be outraged--not a man who liked to show vulnerability, was Professor Snape, to anyone, in any degree whatsoever--but then she'd never seen him cling to anyone the way he had to Hermione just now. For that matter, she wasn't at all certain she had ever seen him willingly touch anyone before.

Should she take it as a good sign, she wondered as she re-entered the kitchen, that the poor fellow had finally permitted himself some small degree of human contact after all these years? Or should she be worried that he was in such bad shape as to reach out that way, where he never had before--and to a female student, at that...

Albus and the others were still discussing the day's grim work, and the Death Eaters he had run off before rejoining them. But the conversation halted as McGonagall stepped into the room, all eyes turning toward her expectantly.

"How is he, Minerva?" Albus asked gently.

"Not good. Poppy is admitting him to St. Mungo's." Minerva tried not to sound too distressed. "She said--it was a very near thing."

Arthur Weasley shook his head unhappily. "Terribly unfortunate...not to cast aspersions on Madame Pomfrey, though, why didn't she catch it right away? Surely if he'd been hurt that badly...?"

"Our friend Severus has a most unfortunate habit of trying to downplay his own needs," Dumbledore explained softly, "no doubt because he was taught to do so by others from very early on."

Sirius Black, who had been about to interject something, shut his mouth and slumped a bit lower in his chair at this.

"He may have intentionally deceived Madame Pomfrey to avoid attention he considered unnecessary," Dumbledore concluded.

"Poor man," murmured Molly Weasley, and McGonagall sighed; Severus had said more than once, and she believed him, that he would much rather be hated than pitied. "Is anyone with him?"

"Hermione Granger volunteered to go along." Minerva couldn't keep the pride out of her voice.

Dumbledore appeared quite delighted by this news, but let it pass unremarked. "I am certain Poppy will keep us informed of his progress. In the meantime, we must now turn our attention to the next step."

"Which is what, exactly?" Mad-Eye Moody spoke up for the first time. "You've been pretty vague about what we do now, Albus. The school might've been less than secure, but how much better off are we now? This place is all right for the short term, but it's no good to house even as many students as haven't been sent home, let alone conduct classes..."

"Quite right, Moody, quite right." Dumbledore nodded at once. "I have given a great deal of thought to the matter, and made certain preparations. But before I go into all of that, now that the necessity is upon us, I want to hear from each of you what you believe should be done."

Albus' friends and allies shifted uncomfortably, exchanging mystified glances. The Headmaster had always been open to advice and opinions, but it had never occurred to any of them that he would go ahead with so radical a move as actually destroying Hogwarts without a follow-up plan already firmly in place.

Destroying Hogwarts. Great heavens above, we actually have, haven't we? Minerva felt suddenly weak in the knees as the fact struck home solidly for the first time. Judging by the expressions of her colleagues, they were sharing similar thoughts. Remus glanced up at her and silently stood, offering her his chair, which she accepted with a murmur of grateful thanks.

Dumbledore was looking around expectantly, the only person in the room who appeared perfectly unperturbed. Serene, even. Clearly he was waiting for an answer, but no one seemed to have one to offer as yet.

Minerva groped briefly for something useful to contribute, and finally ventured, "Well...are we to assume that our purpose is still unchanged? Classes are to continue, somewhere...somehow?"

"That was certainly my intention. Though if it is the general consensus that instruction should be discontinued, that is a viable option."

That brought an immediate chorus of dissent. "No, no, we certainly can't allow the school to die," Professor Sprout said firmly. "But that means we'll need a location..."

"Already arranged for," Dumbledore smiled. "I took the liberty of assuming that you all would agree to the construction of a new school building. I am very pleased to see that I judged correctly in that respect. But what kind of a school, now, that is really the question at hand...even if it were possible to duplicate the original Hogwarts, I do not believe it would be wise."

"Well, not if the whole reason for leveling the place was that You-Know-Who and his people were too familiar with it. That's more or less what it was all about, correct?" Arthur was beginning to look excited, as he normally did only when speaking of Muggle matters.

"Precisely. Voldemort himself, and very nearly every one of his followers, attended Hogwarts, and they spent many years learning their way around the old school, as so many students do...how to get around undetected, how to circumvent the security measures. They had struck close to the heart once already, and it had become all too clear that if we stayed at Hogwarts, more lives would have been taken--and sooner or later, the school itself. That, I think we all realise, could not be allowed to happen."

There was a general murmur of agreement at this. Albus had said more than once that not even he knew all of Hogwarts' secrets; left to ransack the fortress unchecked, there was no telling what long-forgotten knowledge or artifacts their enemies might stumble across--or already knew about, for that matter. Tom Riddle's discovery of the Chamber of Secrets had led to near-disaster some fifty years after the fact.

"Has all this been approved by the Ministry, Albus?" Remus Lupin inquired.

"All but a few niggling details...which I expect to see dealt with in short order," Albus said, glancing around at the members of his teaching staff, who traded knowing looks with him and with one another.

Then Professor Flitwick, looking a bit overwhelmed, said, "Yes, you know you have our complete support there, Albus. I'm surprised you haven't played that card long since, but better late than never I suppose. All of which is very well and good, but about this new school...how can we be certain that whatever we come up with will be any better?"

The little Professor took out a handkerchief and mopped his brow. "I mean...I like to think I've been an adequate Head of House, but I am by no mean the second coming of Rowena Ravenclaw. And that is what you're asking us to do, isn't it--to play Founders. Start the whole thing over again. That's--that's a terrible responsibility to take on...especially in the middle of a war..."

"Well, what else did you expect?" Minerva thought that Filius was correct; it was a staggering proposition. But... "We all must have known, when we agreed to this course of action, what the next logical step would be. We may not be as powerful as the Founders, but we've got something that they did not when they began--years of experience as Hogwarts' instructors."

"And experience dealing with the likes of You-Know-Who, too," Madame Hooch added. "Why, between Albus, you Heads of Houses and the Order, you ought to be able to come up with safeguards the Founders never dreamed of."

"Particularly since there's no Salazar Slytherin around to undermine things from the beginning," Sirius Black noted with a very odd smile.

An uneasy silence fell, and McGonagall glared daggers at Black as various speculative glances were exchanged. You did that intentionally, you underhanded little... "Albus, I realise this is a matter that can't be left long, but Severus ought to be a part of these discussions," she said firmly, ignoring Sirius' insolent counter-glare. "Surely we can put off making any major decisions for a day or two while he recovers..."

"If he recovers," Sirius muttered. Minerva firmly repressed an urge to hex him.

Dumbledore, however, nodded decisively. "Quite right, Minerva. And such a weighty matter demands at least a few days' consideration, certainly." He pushed his chair back, and slowly got to his feet. "It has been a most trying day, my friends...let's adjourn this discussion for now, and rejoin the students. But do think on it, all of you."

The room's occupants filed out one by one, but McGonagall hung back, catching Black's eye and indicating she wanted a word with him.

When they were the last two remaining, she rounded on him with a vengeance. "Sirius Black, if you are thinking what I think you're thinking, I suggest you dispense with the notion right now," she snapped. "Albus will never countenance it, and you know it."

"You're probably right...but then, Albus said that we are all to have a say in how this business is conducted, didn't he?" Black smiled coolly. "Think about it, Minerva: Slytherin House is all but extinct anyway, and we don't know whether Snape will be up to the task of rebuilding it even if he survives. And you know as well as I do that there's a good deal of truth to the old axiom: scarcely a wizard ever went bad that didn't come from Slytherin."

"Eliminating the House wouldn't eliminate the bad element, and you know it perfectly well," McGonagall retorted. "Slytherins tend to go bad because they're purebloods, often ambitious and well-connected, and people like You-Know-Who target them for recruitment--not because they're rotten from birth. And many never do go over."

"No, you're correct there. We get to keep a few of the best and brightest, like Snape and Draco Malfoy," Sirius sneered (in a rather Snapelike fashion, if only he knew it.) "Frankly, I can't believe you aren't as eager for the chance to be rid of that House as I am. You and Snape have never seen eye-to-eye--Gryffindors and Slytherins never do."

He tilted his head to one side as he regarded her, eyes narrowed. "Or have you gone soft on him in your old age, Minerva? Developing a partiality for younger men? But I would have thought you had better taste..."

McGonagall counted silently to ten.

"One more word out of you, Sirius Black," she said in carefully measured tones, "and I will Transfigure you into a toad. Permanently."

She marched up to within scant inches of the other Animagus as she spoke, and was grimly pleased that this caused him to backpedal a few steps. Good, she hadn't lost her touch. 'Old age' indeed! "Now you listen to me, and listen well, because I do not intend to repeat myself.

"Severus Snape is a decent and honourable man," she said softly, fixing Black with a steely gaze that never wavered as she ruthlessly cut him down to size. "He has been through perdition and back, has paid terrible prices for his sins, he routinely risks his life in the service of our cause--and he has never got one-tenth of the respect he deserves, not since the day he first set foot in Hogwarts!"

Black blinked rapidly several times, drawing a breath to respond, but she summarily cut him off. "If his temperament is less than agreeable, I will remind you that you and your friends had a hand in making it so. If it weren't for you Marauders and your asinine pranks, he might never have become a Death Eater in the first place."

She stepped back, eyeing Black with the same expression Hagrid's students had reserved for the ill-conceived Blast-Ended Skrewts. "I sometimes wonder how you can bear to look in a mirror, Sirius, knowing how thoroughly you lot managed to ruin the life of a man who had never done you any harm. But you are correct about one thing, I do consider Severus a friend.

"Never speak ill of him in my presence again, or I promise you, you will regret it."

And with that, she turned her back on the stunned Animagus and walked out, still fuming.

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