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The end of year feast was lit up with candles and the warm colors of the Gryffindor flag strung up around the great hall, and Minerva McGonagall had never felt a cold void like the one in her chest now.
Here they all were, celebrating the defeat of a dark wizard, while she mourned the death of her former student.
Dumbledore had even suggested removing the extra chair from the table tonight, as if he had never been there at all, but she wouldn't have it. It was a reminder that anybody could fall, and that she had failed him.