A/N: Hello all! So this is my first fanfic ever! I've been an active member for years, but never had the guts to publish anything. Now that has changed. I will try to update regularly, but please note that I work a minimum of 40 hours a week on a rotating roster so sometimes it's just not possible. Now this story is set during Minerva's Hogwarts years, I'd say during her sixth year. I'm not too sure on dates; I'll have to do some research but from other fanfics I've read it's about 1945: Grindlewald era. I've always believed D and M to be together, despite what Deathly Hallows tells us. This is their story.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I do not own Harry Potter or any of its wonderful characters.
Chapter One: Late night talks
Minerva quickly ducked around a corner and drew her wand as a shadow fell across the floor. She was not one to be afraid of anything, but after all, it was Hogwarts and strange things happened when you least expected them. She sucked in a deep breath, raised her wand and stepped around the corner.
"Headmaster Dippet", she said, slowly lowering her wand.
"Miss McGonagall", Dippet acknowledged her with a nod of his head. "Hard at work patrolling I see. Like always", he smiled kindly at her. Minerva blushed at Dippet's kind words, but before she could respond, a loud bang was heard overhead. Minerva looked up startled. "What was that?" Dippet sighed. "Oh just Peeves I expect. Professor Dumbledore, would you mind escorting Minerva back to Gryffindor Tower? I believe it is close to the end of her shift". Dumbledore nodded and stepped forth out of the shadows, startling Minerva slightly who did not realise he was there. "Well I had better find Peeves. And the Bloody Barron I suppose. Albus, Miss McGonagall. I shall see you at breakfast". With a swish of his robes, he was gone.
Dumbledore smiled at Minerva and offered her his arm. "Well Miss McGonagall, shall we?" As the two strolled back to Gryffindor tower, they chatted about many things, namely transfiguration as that was Minerva's favourite subject and hobby. And Dumbledore, being Hogwarts' transfiguration teacher and possessing a brilliant mind, certainly knew enough to keep her entertained. "Ahh here we are then. My! Look at the time! I believe a ten minute walk turned into a 45 minute one. I'm so sorry to have kept you up so long Miss McGonagall", he apologised, speaking the password and escorting Minerva inside. "Nonsense Professor, it was my fault as well. I guess I can never pass up the opportunity to converse with you. You have such a brilliant mind".
"Thank you, my dear. You are welcome to converse with me anytime. But for now, you should get some rest. Goodnight Miss McGonagall".
"Goodnight Professor". As Minerva ascended the stairs leading to the dormitories, she couldn't help but look back. She noticed Dumbledore standing next to the Fat Lady, looking back also. As their gazes locked, she gave a quick smile and climbed the remaining stairs to her bed.
Albus smiled to himself as he strolled back down the corridor towards his office and connected private rooms. Minerva was a brilliant student and he loved every opportunity he got to spend time with her. He'd been teaching her in transfiguration since her first year and he'd instantly liked her. She had a keen knack for transfiguration and never gave up until she achieved nothing less than perfect. Over the last few years he had found himself growing more and more attached to the Scottish 16 year old and even though a few teachers had voiced concerns about the amount of time they spent together, Albus assured them it was nothing more than a deep friendship.
And it was. It wasn't as if Minerva had no friends and Albus felt sorry for her, on the contrary, she was well liked by most Hogwarts students. They admired her intelligence and natural Quidditch ability, craved her attention and good looks and appreciated the time she took to tutor underachieving students. Of course, Albus was proud of Minerva for all of these things, but it was the level of maturity she displayed for a 16 year old that had him so enthralled with her. She could behave like a thirty year old when she was with him, act like a 16 year old when with her classmates and regress to a twelve year old when she was in the company of her two closest friends, Poppy Pomfrey from Hufflepuff and Rolanda Hooch from Slytherin. Despite all her academic commitments and prefect duties, Albus loved that Minerva always found time to play chess with him twice a week. Yes, Albus had many friends among the staff at Hogwarts, infact he was well liked and admired by all in Hogwarts, except for the Slytherin pupils whose families actively practiced the dark arts. He just found it refreshing to have an academic debate with someone whose mind was young and full of questions, one who admired him for who was, not for what he's done.
So lost in his thoughts, Albus didn't realise he had walked straight past the portrait guarding his rooms. Chuckling slightly, he backtracked and gave the password. "Lemon drop". He walked in to his sitting room and glanced around at the mess. As tempted as he was just to leave it and go to bed, Albus knew that Armando was going to collect him for breakfast at precisely 7 o'clock, as he did every Monday morning and did not want the Headmaster to glimpse his Deputy's messy room, as he knew he would be reprimanded like a child and then lectured about finding a suitable woman who could keep him organised. Albus and Armando had been friends for years, so the teasing was always expected between the two, but sometimes Albus just wished that Armando would understand that none of the women Albus went out with were interested in him at all. They were interested in his body and his fame, not his mind. They didn't care what he had to say, they just made suggestive comments and actions.
It was not what Albus was looking for. He glanced around at the piles of books, dozens of randomly scattered robes and underwear and sighed. Albus had ordered his house elf to only serve him when called, and never to clean up his mess unless asked. He also preferred to clean manually, stating that he didn't want to become lazy and dependent on magic for every little thing. But tonight, he just couldn't be bothered. His accidental meeting with Minerva McGonagall seemed to have drained Albus, for reasons he could not explain. He rubbed his face, then waved his wand in a circle. As the clothes, books and various knick knacks straightened themselves, he closed the door to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed.