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WHO; Ginevra Weasley && Headmistress McGonagall
WHEN; Saturday night, early evening.
WHERE; The Headmistress' office!
SUMMARY; Ginny needs to tell McGonagall something.
RATING; PG13?
WARNINGS; TBA.
STATUS; In Progress.


Professor McGonagall had kept the office as pristine as she could, taking care of Dumbledore’s immense collection of rarities as though if by keeping them clean and well kept it would be like the previous headmaster had never left. The thought was obviously absurd and almost foolish when she would reflect upon it and yet she couldn’t picture the office any other way. She eyed Albus sleeping peacefully as well as the frame that surrounded his portrait. With a small and short sigh she moved her chair slightly and began to go over proposals from Professor Snape about how the holiday would be regarded at the school.

It wasn’t as though she missed being a professor but she would always want to be able to converse with her students—despite the high position that she now held. It was a job that needed to be done, and she understood that more than most, but at times she would feel as though she kept herself secluded more than she would like to—often seeing students whenever they had problems or required something from her. The only exception to that was Harry Potter. She would have tea with him at least once a week. It wasn’t to keep up with the boy or ensure the safety of the wizarding world, nothing as dramatic as that. It was more to make sure that he would remember that he was still a boy above all. And that he would take care of himself. After all of what had happened in these last few years Minerva would often marvel at the strength that Harry had, but she had also noticed that he had a tendency to take things upon his shoulder that were unneeded, even if he felt like it was his responsibility. So she would sit and eat tea with him and try to deflect the situation from anything life threatening to something that would soothe the boy. He would often talk more than she had expected him to and a small part of her took pride in that he could confide in her.

She made a mental note to inform him that it was time for another meeting through the enchanted journals that everyone had. While there had been some difficulties with the journals during the beginning of the year they were so simple and useful that despite whatever she may have threatened she couldn’t bring herself to dispose of them. She had just picked up her quill as she heard a small knock on her door. With a pause she wondered if she had forgotten if she was to meet someone tonight—that would be most unlike her. She put an untroubled face as she nodded once and let out “Enter!” curtly.