A/N: NO MORE! I am NOT writing any more to the Ice-Cold Roses series of stories. Except this one. Then I'll stop. I have to. It's getting way too complicated, and it went from Hermione to Ron to McGonagall, and it's confusing me. Before you read this, I recommend reading....*deep breath* Being Alive, Ice-Cold Roses, The Warmth found in Tears, Fear of the Dance, and Sobs of a Stoic. And you might want to read Raining on Roses, as well, although it's a different branch of the storyline.

Minerva sat down at the desk in her study, piled high with meaningless clutter. Just like the rest of her so-called life. Her eyes were dry now and her mind clear: she knew what she had to do. She carefully selected a bottle of dark, emerald green ink. a black quill, and a piece of parchment from a desk drawer, then began to write.

To whom it may concern:

She paused, and sighed slightly. "I really don't have any friends, do I." she muttered, then went back to writing.

This is my will, my explanation. To put it simply, I have no reason left to stay I never had a reason, actually, but Miss Granger's death somehow made me realize how futile my life is. What's the point? And in case you're wondering, this isn't really a sudden change in my way of thinking. Did you never notice how I hung around the outskirts of casual conversations, desperately hoping someone would see me and invite me in? Did you never realize that I was the only staff member that didn't have a family to go home to? No. You didn't see.

And so, I'm leaving Hogwarts. I don't know where'll I'll go. Try my hand at Muggle life again, maybe. See the world. We're only here until we're gone.

Minerva McGonagall

Slowly, she put the ink and quill away. Picking up the parchment, she crossed the study and entered her bedroom, then carefully lay the letter in plain view on her carefully made bed. She muttered a few words under her breath, waving her wand slightly, and her small suitcase packed itself.

Taking a deep breath, she fastened her cloak around her shoulders and took her broom out of the closet. Her hand went to the window, ready to throw it open and be gone, when a soft hooting sound came from behind her. Fitzpickle. She had almost forgotten.

"You know, you're the one friend I ever had." she murmured, gently stroking the small owl's feathers. It hooted again in response, worry evident in the beady black eyes. Minerva paused again, then grabbed the letter up again and went back into the study. Hurriedly, she scribbled something at the bottom of the page.

P.S. Take good care of my owl.

There. That was everything. "I'm sorry, Albus." she said to her empty bedroom, then picked up her broom and suitcase. Without a backward glance, she threw open the window and left Hogwarts, never to return again.

A/N: Ugh, I did NOT like that. Why the heck did I write that? It's completely out of character, and just plain....ugh. Oh well. I'm uploading it anyway. Don't bother reviewing unless you actually have something nice to say about this atrocity.