A/N:: I was reading Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café by Fannie Flagg the other day, and I read the quote that I used in italics at the end of this story and immediately thought, "Oh my gosh… That's definitely just like Albus and Minerva!" So obviously, I do not own that quote.

Oh, and I apologize about saying there probably wouldn't be any angst from me for awhile after my last one. Oops! Never say never…

FanFic 100 Challenge #:: 063- Summer

The Ones That Hurt the Most

Minerva sat in the front row of hundreds of chairs facing a marble table. Despite it being one of the most beautiful summer days she had seen in quite some time, Minerva could not fight the cold numbness throughout her entire body. The hot sun caressing her face and hair seemed to be some evil form of irony from some unknown force. Minerva looked around casually at the enormous variety of people sitting in the chairs, whispering to others. She wondered how many members of this unusual audience actually cared for the man whose funeral this was. Judging by the bored expressions on most of their faces, she decided that this number was few.

Minerva breathed deeply, hoping to fill the dark void she felt inside, but it seemed that no air could reach her helpless lungs. She was not yet certain whether she felt more hurt or anger over Albus's death, but what did it matter? Minerva wondered if these horrible feelings would ever pass… She knew, however, that no matter how empty she felt inside, no one would ever know of her struggle. After all, she was known as rarely ever showing her emotions, and this would definitely not be a time she would allow anyone to know how she was feeling. The only person that ever really cared about how she felt was gone now.

A warm breeze swept through the rows of chairs as Minerva turned and saw a sobbing Hagrid moving up the aisle with Albus's body wrapped in purple velvet and golden stars. As Hagrid placed the body upon the marble table, a chill of sorrow ran up Minerva's spine. How could it possibly seem that Albus's spirit was so close to her, though she knew that his lifeless body lay before her?

Minerva managed to keep a straight face as Albus's eulogy was spoken. This man knew nothing of Albus at all! She tried to concentrate to the speech, but they were nothing but empty, meaningless words by no one special. Her mind drifted back to the real Albus and all the special moments they had spent together.

Suddenly, bright white flames erupted around Albus's body before a white marble tomb encased him. A few tears finally escaped Minerva's eyes and rolled down her cheeks before she relentlessly chased after them with her tartan handkerchief. No one would ever see just how much she would cry, and she certainly wouldn't say anything and allow all these students see her grieve. She sighed and wrung the handkerchief tightly in her hands. If they only knew the truth…

The ones that hurt the most always say the least.