Summary: Minerva McGonagall has spent a lifetime regretting the road she didn't take. But what if the gods also grieved for the dead of the Wizarding World, and chose a champion to take the other path?

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost

Being reborn, Minerva decided, is downright uncomfortable. Her first breath was an undignified cough, and then a painful hiss as her lungs inflated, trying to remember the steps of a once-familiar pattern. Rather like drowning in reverse, and positively unpleasant.

What she really needed was a good, stiff drink. A couple of fingers of that rather excellent Scotch she had in her cabinet, and -

Memory reasserted itself as she took in her surroundings. Not Hogwarts, then. The small, grey flat that had served as her quarters outside of Hogwarts grew clearer as she blinked away being dead. One could (rather optimistically) call it a bedsit, but whatever it was, it was bare and uninviting, and it simply wouldn't do for what she had planned. The raw bones of this place were as ugly and unfinished as she had felt at this point.

She remembered. 1981.

It was much earlier in the timeline, of course. At this point she had still been choking on grief, sorrow rearing fierce and unexpected with every new day. Being here ripped the scab off a wound long healed over, and Minerva learned that her mind might be one hundred and twenty-nine years of age, but her body - this body - was in command of her emotions. And this Minerva certainly hadn't mastered Occlumency yet, not at the age of forty-six. Her younger body was a maelstrom of feeling and need.

Angus MacGregor, her heart beat out. You dear, silly fool.

She stood up abruptly from the dusty floor in front of the fireplace… and just as abruptly sat down again. From her position, now sprawled untidily across the bare floorboards, Minerva considered that if she'd had to recall how to breathe, it made sense that walking (or even standing) might need a more cautious approach.

Minerva growled under her breath, and the sound, hoarse and ill-tempered, was enough to shock her. Her voice echoed like a slap in the empty room. Her hands had flown to her mouth, and she looked at them now, at the pale strip of skin where her wedding ring had lain. As her skin was pale, it didn't show overmuch, but she could see it. This body still felt naked without its familiar weight. It had not yet shed itself of the tendency to twist that slender band of white gold, as she had always done when lost in thought.

Her mouth tightened into a firm line, and she blinked.

Enough, Minerva chided herself gently. They are long dead, my dear, and grieving will not bring them back.

Last time, it had only been with the twilight years of her life that the rage at her loss had dimmed. Now, she forced her body - newly widowed, newly bereft of her family - to remember that there was so much more to be done.

She had tarried long enough. Time was ticking, and there was a kidnapping to plan.

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
 I took the one less traveled by,
 And that has made all the difference.

Hello Fanfiction.

Madre, what a long time it's been since I dabbled in your waters and dipped my toes into the current! Too long, I'd say.

Did you miss me? I rather doubt it, but then I never really made a go of it before. Please let me know what you think. Minerva McGonagall has to be one of my favourite characters in Fanfiction, and yet I rarely find a Minerva-centric tale as rich in nuance, culture and history as I desire. I'm so excited! It's such a tired choice, to opt for an AU, but I hope my very own version will be infused with such life, peppered with enough humour, charm and story that you won't be able to stop.

Happy reading. Let me know what you think? I'm going to post the next chapter later today if there's any life at all on this!

Much love and laughter,

Cassop