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I was thrown back out of the memories. I'd seen enough; no, I'd seen what I had too. It was as though I'd been hit over the head. My head throbbed, my eyes stung, I was in so much pain - my heart was aching. I couldn't handle it.

I saw everything from this year that I'd missed, and I'd seen more.

I'd seen my missing memories from last year, and I understood why I didn't want them.

I sat on the floor of McGonagall's office in a heap. I was shaking.

"Willow!" She said, alarmed. "You've been gone for hours. What did you see?" She looked at my pathetic form and suddenly changed into a worried mother. "Are you alright?"

I didn't move.

I didn't respond.

I just sat there.

I felt like I'd always sit there.

I'd just sit on the floor forever.

A few tears silently cascaded down my cheeks but I made no effort to wipe them away.

McGonagall spoke, but I couldn't comprehend words.

It was all fuzzy.

I didn't know how long I was sitting there for; but when I came out of the trance, McGonagall was beside me.

"Willow?" she asked quietly.

"Hi." I said in a voice that didn't feel like my own.

"What- What happened?" her voice quivered. I'd frightened her.

"You know that feeling you get when you're dreading something?"

"Uh...Dread?" she asked, looking at me cautiously.

"Yeah. I think I just saw dread."

"But, Willow, dread is a feeling...it's not an actual physical thing."

"Tell that to the TARDIS drawer." I muttered.

"What?"

"I saw memories, Professor. Dread is very much a physical thing." I spoke calmly; collectedly; but I was on the verge of tears. I was forcing myself to be calm; I ignored the feelings of helplessness; I ignored the feelings that made me want to collapse on the floor. What else could I do? I stood up, a little unsteadily, and made for the door.

"Willow," Professor McGonagall's voice shook; she reached out and touched my shoulder.

I turned back and looked at her; and for the first time in my life, I could see. I could see the pain behind her eyes; that godforsaken helpless kind of pain. It echoed in her every syllable and in that moment I realised it had always been there. She was trapped in an eternal suffering; she'd endured so much, and when she'd thought it was all over, it was to happen again.

The heartache had become a part of her, it was what she'd lived and breathed for so long. Minerva McGonagall, I realised, was living in a constant anguish; she'd become accustomed to loss in her life, and that wasn't fair. What I understood in that instant was that her worst fear wasn't feeling more loss; it was watching someone else go through the same helplessness.

That was why she's saved Ruby all those years ago.

That was why she'd always looked after me.

"Professor, it's alright. I'll be alright." I tried to convince her; trying to convince myself. I took a deep breath before I continued. "I-I met Ruby. I spent a while with her while I was away. She's a lot like you."

"I-" She seemed to give up on speaking and just stared at me, as if asking for more.

"She misses you, and she's sorry, but she has other responsibilities." I spoke softly, because McGonagall seemed to be at breaking point. "She said that, like you looked after her, she's looking after others. She's found girls from broken homes, and she looks after them all. She's more or less running an illegal wizarding school." I tried to lighten the mood, but I failed.

"Thank you." was all McGonagall could manage, and I left shortly after, with the bigger-on-the-inside box in my bigger-on-the-inside pocket.

I hadn't eaten, but I no longer felt hungry, so I started my walk to the dormitories. Every step seemed to take twice the effort, and I felt as if the walk would never end. Everything seemed so small and insignificant; and yet it was also grand and remarkable. My mind was in contrast with my heart; my body was fighting to sleep, but I knew my mind was whirring too much to allow that to ever happen.

"Excuse me." Spoke a voice from behind me.

Why do people stand behind me? Do they sneak up on me for dramatic effect? I don't understand.

I turned and saw Snape; of course it was Snape. Who else could I run into after seeing his past; after seeing my past; after seeing how our unlikely paths would cross?

"Good Evening," I said politely.

"You have been at this school for an adequate amount of time, Willow Potter, and I am of the assumption that you know curfew if nine o'clock; so tell me - what gives you the right to be out of bed at this time?"

"Well, I figure that my future isn't looking too bright, so I might as well live the high life while I still can." I bunched my hand into a fist and punched the air unenthusiastically.

The look Snape gave me showed that he knew what I knew. Which meant I knew that he knew what I knew. And he knew I knew that he knew I knew he knew what I knew.

"This is your final warning, you insolent child, go to your dormitory. There will be punishment next time." His tone was harsh, but his eyes were soft.

I sauntered back to the room of requirement instead of the common room and found it as full as ever. I made my way to the back of the room where there were a few beds away from the commotion.

I collapsed into a dreamless sleep.

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