Chapter 1 – The Beginning

The sun shone brightly and the wind was non-existent in Godric's Hollow on the twenty-third of July in the year 1935. The heat was scorching, and many witches and wizards took up shelter inside their homes where their numerous cooling charms were more likely to work. But not everyone was inside on such a day. In fact, a rather large amount of witches and wizards were out celebrating and in stuffy wedding attire no less. Most did not complain. Many had been able to change into lighter clothes after the ceremony, and others were merely too swept up in the occasion to notice the heat.

However, there was one particular witch who had not been allowed to change, and who was not at all happy about the heat. She was a young witch, extremely stubborn, and slightly less patient than she would be in the future. Her long, ebony waves fell down her back, pulled back slightly from her face. She possessed a set of porcelain features – high cheek bones, rose petal lips, and sharp emerald eyes. She would surely turn quite a few heads when she reached her teen years, and even more when she was of age. Every woman would envy her, and every man would desire her – or so her mother had told her, the girl herself had yet to believe it.

At the moment, however, this young witch was merely ten years and ten months of age, and her father was adamant that she stay that way. He could hardly be blamed for her features, either, for he had chocolate brown hair, and the only thing she had acquired from him was his enchanting green eyes, stubborn ways, and loving nature. Her black hair, nearly perfect features, quick wit, and short temper had all come from her mother, Helena Marie Antoinette XIV, whose eyes were a steel grey.

Helena, however, was now referred to as Helena Marie Antoinette McGonagall, ever since the day she had married Calibos Perseus McGonagall, just twelve years ago. They had only had one child, the young witch, Minerva Thetis McGonagall.

At the current moment, Minerva was quite annoyed. As the youngest child in the Antoinette family, she had been forced into being the flower girl for her great aunt Helena the twelfth's fifth wedding. While this may not have been quite so bad to begin with, Minerva's mother's family was very stuck in their old fashioned ways, and found large dresses with corsets to be the most enchanting sort of attire. Minerva did not agree, and had told her great aunt and anyone else in her family who would listen. Most of the family laughed, a few of the less generous ones complained to her parents for raising such an outspoken child – Helena and Calibos McGonagall had not appreciated these comments, and had assured their daughter that she should stick to her ideals and beliefs, no matter who told her otherwise.

In the end, Minerva had consented to wear the dreaded ensemble in the summer heat, but only because her father had tempted her with a large ice cream sundae from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

And so now she stood; her forehead beaded in perspiration; her dress, stockings, and corset clinging to her uncomfortably; and her hair sticking to her face. The sun was glaring down upon her, and she sighed exasperatedly for another time that day. She looked up to her parents, who were currently standing off to the side of the wedding reception, resting momentarily and keeping Minerva company. Each held a glass half-full of some sort of drink, and Minerva yearned for a glass of her own, but the only drink at the reception that she was allowed to drink was pumpkin juice, and she had never been very fond of pumpkin juice. She had, of course, taken a sip of some, but she was so stubbornly set on being unhappy about the arrangements that she refused to take another drink.

"Mum," Minerva moaned in annoyance, tugging on her mother's sleeve.

Helena turned her gaze from her husband, her eyes resting on their daughter, an eyebrow raised in question. "What on Earth are you on about now, Minerva?" the woman asked her. "I have never heard you complain so much! I told you just five minutes ago that we would be leaving as soon as was decent – be patient!"

"But, mother, you don't understand!" Minerva persisted.

"I understand perfectly well, Minerva," said Helena. "I had been in your position multiple times in my youth. Had I complained I would have been slapped across the mouth!"

Calibos chuckled into his drink at this, gazing at his wife over the rim of his glass. Lowering the drink from his lips, he said, "I can only imagine your reaction to such a thing, m'dear."

Before Helena could even glance in Calibos's direction, Minerva continued, "This is entirely different, Mother, and I insist you pay attention! It's absolutely sweltering out here!"

Helena merely shook her head at this and rolled her eyes, taking a large drink from her glass and looking out into the crowd of witches and wizards currently dancing in the middle of a large backyard. She was not at all baffled by her daughter's use of such words. Her intelligence had always surpassed those in her age group. By the time Minerva was four years old, she had nearly been able to write full paragraphs on a second-grade level.

Calibos patted Minerva's shoulder affectionately and said, "Just another thirty minutes, Minerva and we'll be on our way home. Your mother and I will begin saying goodbyes after another dance and then I promise we'll go home."

Minerva sighed wearily and muttered, "Fine."

Her father gave her a large grin and her mother gave her a small, reassuring smile as well. Then her parents turned and were gliding towards the center of the yard. Minerva watched them until they disappeared in the crowd, and then she tapped her foot impatiently, counting the seconds until she could leave and attempting to forget about the heat.

After two minutes and forty-seven seconds, Minerva had had enough of waiting. She recalled a place of shade that she had discovered when she had visited her great aunt Helena from Godric's Hollow when she was younger, and decided to wander over for twenty minutes or so before she would have to hurry back to meet her parents.

With a quick glance around the reception area to make sure no one was watching her, Minerva began backing out of the yard and into the one next door. No one had noticed her yet, and so she spun around quickly, pulled up the voluminous skirts of her dress, and then sprinted through three backyards before she reached the end of the block. Once there, Minerva turned around and narrowed her eyes in the direction of the wedding reception. Everything seemed ordinary, and so she wiped the sweat from her forehead and jogged in the direction of the shaded area she remembered.

After only another minute, Minerva reached the grassy hill with a large, shady tree at the top. She clambered up the hill in anticipation of the shade, and when she reached the trunk of the tree and slid to the ground, she sighed in relief. It was still warm and stuffy, but the sun was no longer burning her eyes or glaring upon her skin. She felt considerably better already, and she had the sudden inspiration to climb the tree – she had always loved climbing tress with her cousins. Of course, she had only ever climbed trees and gone trekking through the woods with her male cousins, because the girls in her family were all rather prim and proper. However, all of Minerva's cousins were at least three years older than her, and while that had not been a problem when the children were younger, now that they were maturing teenagers, and Minerva was…well, not – they didn't get along much anymore.

The problem with climbing a tree at the moment though was that Minerva would run the risk of ripping her dress and getting dirty, which her mother would immediately notice and scold her mercilessly for leaving the area of the wedding reception. Even her father would give her a disappointed look. They hated when Minerva ran off, something she couldn't quite understand. She knew, of course, that there were dangers, but it wasn't as if she couldn't take care of herself, and she had never gotten into any troublesome situations before.

She was not aware that that was all going to change today.

Minerva decided to chance climbing into the tree. She kicked off her dress shoes, pulled off her stockings, and loosened her corset. She suddenly felt as if she could breathe, and so, after slightly hitching up the bottom of her dress, she gripped the trunk of the tree and hauled herself upwards. She quickly latched onto a low branch, and used it to pull herself up further into the tree. Within moments Minerva had managed to climb about ten feet up into the tree, and had sat herself onto a thick, sturdy branch. She examined her dress to make sure she hadn't ripped any of it yet, and then arranged the skirts properly just in case anyone were to walk under the tree – she was a lady after all.

Minerva leaned back against the trunk of the tree and closed her eyes momentarily, enjoying the quiet shade and the thrill of climbing a tree. She had just been wondering whether or not anyone had yet noticed her absence when she heard voices and slightly muffled footsteps in the grass. Her eyes flew open and she instantly assumed that her parents had come looking for her. She wasn't necessarily afraid of her parents, but she wasn't fond of getting into trouble. It was summer after all, and she needed to be free to play outside. She wouldn't mind reading all day, but her parents knew that so they'd probably take away her books and have her read something trivial and ridiculous instead. She nearly shuddered at the thought.

But when she strained her ears to confirm her fears that her parents were approaching, she was proven wrong. It wasn't the voices of her parents, or anyone else that she recognized for that matter. Instead, it was two male voices – older teenagers, if she had to guess, but they certainly weren't any of her cousins. Her fear of getting in trouble was replaced with a sense of foreboding. Teenage boys could often be brutal, and she was not eager to find out if these boys were courteous or not.

She positioned herself in the tree so that she could see what was going on directly below her, and then held her breath, straining her ears in an attempt to hear the teenagers' conversation. As they drew nearer, Minerva was able to catch what one of the boys said.

"You can't back out now, Albus," he said, sounding irate, and Minerva could already tell that he was not a very nice boy.

The other male, the one Minerva assumed to be Albus replied, "All I'm saying, Gellert, is that I just don't understand why we would hurt women and children to –"

"They're Muggles, Albus," Gellert interrupted. "What more reason do you need? They are of little importance."

Minerva's heart was pounding loudly in her ears now. She wasn't afraid exactly – or so she told herself – but she was a bit worried. Not only were these boys discussing harming women and children, but they were wizards. And by the buzz of magic Minerva could feel, they had to be pretty powerful.

As Albus and Gellert drew closer, their voices became more coherent, and Albus spoke once more. "I know," he said to his companion, "but the fact remains that it seems a bit barbaric. I mean, we could keep the children, get them to see things our way. Some of them could even be fellow witches or wizards."

"It's too risky," said Gellert. He had reached the tree by now, and he leaned against it, his arms folded across his chest. Minerva could see the top of his sandy blonde head. He didn't seem to notice Minerva's shoes and stockings sitting only a few feet behind him. "If we want to make a statement we can't look as if we're being soft for a bunch of women and children."

Minerva could faintly hear Albus sigh, and then he stepped into view and she saw a faint outline of his face and auburn hair.

"Somehow I still feel that attacking a village of innocents before even attempting to negotiate seems a bit…extreme," said Albus.

"It's not extreme, Albus," said Gellert. "It's for the greater good."

Minerva was appalled, baffled. She could not believe that these two were talking about attacking a village of innocent Muggles. And for what? The greater good? How exactly was it for the greater good?

Because of Minerva's confusion and slight trepidation, she forgot, for a moment, that she was perched precariously on a tree limb. She shifted slightly, and slipped off of the branch. Her heart skipped a beat, but luckily she was able to grab hold of the nearest branch and wrap herself around it to stop her fall. Unfortunately, she also caught the attention of the two boys below her, and they looked up at her in surprise. Her breath caught in her throat, and before she could think of some sort of escape, her eyes fell onto Albus's and she felt herself nearly falling into a trance.

It was strange, indescribable, but extremely real. Somehow Minerva felt as if she were connected to this boy called Albus, as if she had known him for a century, when really she did not recall ever meeting him and knew absolutely nothing about him. She knew that if she had met this boy before, she would have remembered him and his astonishing, blue, twinkling eyes.

Her confusion at this was cut short when suddenly something hot hit her in the chest and she was flung from the tree. She was broken from her trance as the fright took over and she grabbed frantically at fast passing branches. Pain erupted in her left leg as something cut through her dress and up her calf, and then she had fallen to the ground and the air left her lungs in a rush. As she gasped in an attempt to breathe, she inhaled dirt, and sat up quickly to spit the foul stuff from her mouth. Coughing and sputtering, she rolled over onto her back to see Gellert glaring down at her. She purposely averted her gaze from Albus.

Now that she was closer and face to face with Gellert, she was proven right that he was definitely not a nice person – not at all. She could see the hatred in his blue eyes – of course, his eyes could not rival Albus's. Gellert reached down and grabbed her roughly by the arm, hauling her to her feet and shoving her back so that she stumbled slightly on her injured leg. And then a wand was being shoved in her face and she was suddenly acting braver than she felt.

"That is no way to treat a lady you know!" said Minerva, her hands balling to fists and coming to rest on her hips. She glared up at Gellert, who eyed her with a hint of curiosity.

However, his gaze was furious as he pressed the tip of his wand to her throat and snarled, "Who are you, girl? What have you heard?"

Minerva raised an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest. She stood her ground, but at that moment she felt extremely small compared to the tall, muscular boy standing before her. She had always been slightly small for her age, and at ten years old she was a bit shorter and thinner than most. Not to mention there was a wand under her chin and she herself had no wand, so if it came down to some sort of battle, she had no chance. Suddenly she wished she listened to her parents more often.

"I'll only ask you one more time," Gellert growled. Albus had yet to speak, and Minerva was still avoiding his gaze. "Who are you?"

Minerva scoffed. "Well if you really must know," she answered. "My name is Helena Antoinette the seventeenth." Minerva didn't want to give away her real name in case, out of some miracle, she managed to escape, that way if Gellert came looking for her he wouldn't find her, or anyone else for that matter, because there was no Helena Antoinette XVII that she was aware of.

Luckily, Gellert seemed to believe her, and Minerva felt a bit braver, so she continued, "I suggest you put down your wand before you poke someone's eye out, and then perhaps we can continue this in a more civilized manner."

Gellert's previous look of fury turned to one of amusement, and he smirked. "You've got guts, Helena. You would make a fine addition to our cause."

"Oh yes," said Minerva sarcastically, "because I would just love to attack a Muggle village and kill hundreds of innocents."

"Ah, so you did hear our conversation," said Gellert with a shake of his head. "Unfortunately, that means that you must die – unless, as I said, you would like to join us. I can feel the incredible magic pulsating around you, Helena. It would be such a waste –"

"I'll never join you or your cause," Minerva spat, her heart hammering in her chest. She knew she was playing with fire. She knew that her death was soon to come. But she was a McGonagall after all, and neither the McGonagalls nor the Antoinettes would let fear over take them. She faintly wondered whether or not her parents would ever find her. Would Gellert leave her body for them to find? Or would he make her unrecognizable as Minerva McGonagall? Would her parents be angry at her for running off and getting herself killed? She hated that the last words to her parents had been complaining.

Gellert sighed, "So be it. You will be an unfortunate loss I'm sure…"

Minerva braced herself and glared stonily at Gellert as he readied himself, his wand lowering to her chest. Albus still had not spoken or even moved, and Minerva decided that, if she were to die, she may as well die being lost in the sapphires that were his eyes. Just as she turned towards him, she heard him speak.

"No," was all he said, his hand reaching out to grip Gellert's wand.

Minerva was shocked, and she suddenly felt a small glimmer of hope. Maybe Albus had felt what she had, and maybe he wasn't going to let her die. She could only hope. If she did survive though, she would never disobey her parents again, that was for sure.

Gellert looked to Albus with a raised eyebrow. "She must die, Albus," said Gellert, in a tone that made it sound as if he was discussing the weather. "She will tell others about our plan – we cannot allow that to happen, no matter how powerful she is." Gellert glanced back at Minerva then, and studied her face. "Then again," he muttered, "she does look as though she'll be quite beautiful in the future, and children can be manipulated…"

Minerva was revolted. The only thing worse than dying was being forced into being a part of a Muggle-hating murderer's group. "I don't think so," she said furiously.

Gellert narrowed his eyes at her. "She will die, Albus," he stated firmly.

"But she must live!" Albus insisted.

"Why?" Gellert questioned.

Albus didn't seem to know the answer to that, and he looked to Minerva, who was watching him carefully. Their eyes locked once more, but this time they were still aware of their surroundings and were somewhat capable of thinking clearly. Even after what Albus had been talking to Gellert about, somehow she felt safe around him, and she could tell he felt the same way, even though she wasn't sure how she, as a wandless ten year old, could really do much in the way of protection.

Without looking away from her, Albus said, "Just let her go, Gellert."

Gellert shook his head, seemingly at a loss to his companion's behavior. "You know I can't do that, Albus," he said, and without warning, he waved his wand and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

Minerva's eyes widened in shock, as did Albus's, and there was a bright green flash, followed by a rushing sound, and then events unfolded in slow motion. Minerva felt her own magic pulsing around her, and then more magic filtered around her as well. At first, her mind, feeling sluggish, assumed it was the killing curse, but then she somehow felt Albus's presence, and she knew it was his own magic, though how that was happening, she didn't know.

She didn't tear her gaze from Albus, but she saw, out of the corner of her eye, the green curse rushing towards her. But in the next moment, the curse bent away from her, as if deflected, and hit the ground, the grass erupting in green flames. Gellert was flung to the side and his wand was wrenched from his hand.

For a moment, Minerva couldn't move. She had turned away from Albus, and was now staring at Gellert's inert body, wondering what on Earth had just happened. She turned back to Albus, who looked just as confused. Deciding not to question it, Minerva quickly spun around and started sprinting down the hill, only to falter and nearly fall when pain seared through her injured leg. She gritted her teeth and continued down the hill, but she felt as if she were hardly moving.

From behind she heard Gellert shout, "KILL HER, ALBUS!"

Minerva quickened her pace, praying to Merlin that Albus wouldn't suddenly change his mind. She was running so fast and thinking so rapidly that she noticed too late when a wall of fire erupted beside her, and she threw out an arm when she thought the flames were close enough to hit her in the face. Instead, she only managed to stick her hand in the fire, and she cried out in shock, tumbling to the ground and rolling the few feet to the bottom of the hill.

She heard pounding footsteps approaching and she knew that she had to get up, to get moving again, but she was so tired…

Suck it up, Minerva McGonagall! she told herself. Stand up!

But before she could do so, she saw Albus hurrying towards her. She wasn't sure why she suddenly seemed frightened, but she attempted to scramble backwards from him as he slid to his knees in front of her.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Helena," he said quickly. "I promise."

Minerva was hesitant. The fact that she seemed so connected to him finally seemed to have set in and it unsettled her. But what other choice did she have?

"Are you all right?" he asked when she didn't try to run away.

Minerva found this a rather odd question, given the circumstances, but she supposed it was all he could think to say. So instead she answered him with, "Minerva." She wasn't sure why she wanted him to know her name, and it was probably crazy of her, but she was sitting on the ground, an angry Gellert shouting furiously at the top of the hill, a wall of fire at her side, a burn on her hand and a cut on her leg, and just survived a killing curse without a wand in her hand. Things couldn't get much crazier.

"What?" asked Albus as his gaze fell on the burn on her hand and his face fell.

"My name is Minerva," she clarified.

He looked up at her then, their eyes locking once more and the roar of the fire and Gellert faded as if they had just gone through a tunnel. "Minerva," said Albus as he took her wounded hand in his, and a sense of relief seemed to fall over her. The stinging in her hand and leg slowly began to fade, and as she inhaled sharply, the air didn't seem so thick anymore.

Then Gellert's voice filled the air once more and Minerva blinked, the sound of the roaring flames penetrating her ears once more. Curious, she looked down at her hand and leg, finding that both were…healed? She looked up to Albus, who seemed just as surprised as she, and she looked back down at her wounds to see that they were, in fact, gone. The only proof that there were once wounds there was the blood, rips and burns on her dress and the faint scars on her hand and leg.

"Run," Albus breathed then, rising to his feet and bringing Minerva with him. "I'll hold him off. Run back to your family, they'll keep you safe."

"But…what about you?" asked Minerva, unsure why she was even asking such a thing.

Albus gave her a small, warm smile. "I'll be fine," he responded quickly. "Now run, Minerva, run!"

Minerva hesitated only a moment before saying a quick, "Thank you," and spinning around to sprint away.

September 2, 1941

It was mid-day on the first day back to classes at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and one Minerva McGonagall was sitting at the Gryffindor House table in the Great Hall. No longer did her face behold the innocence of youth, instead a sort of teenage angst. Her eyes were sharper than ever and her hair longer. While she remained thin, she was now much taller, no longer shorter than everyone else her age. She was eating her lunch and reading a book, which was propped up against a milk jug. This had been a sort of routine for Minerva in her last five years of attending Hogwarts, and this sixth year would be no different. Of course, there were the times when she sat down her books to speak with her friends, Rolanda Hooch and Poppy Pomfrey, but it was a rare occasion. Rolanda normally ran around to all of the House tables, as she was friends with most of the school, or at least she pretended to be. Poppy only spoke when she had something important to say, and also knew not to disturb Minerva when she had already begun reading. Seeing as Poppy was normally late for lunch, she didn't get a chance to begin a conversation with Minerva before the book was open and propped up against the milk jug.

Today, Poppy was still late, but burst into the Great Hall and sprinted right up to Minerva, snatching the book off the table and snapping it closed before sitting down next to Minerva and looking at her eagerly. Minerva turned to glare at her overly excited friend, but Poppy paid no notice.

"Minerva, guess who I just met!" Poppy exclaimed, practically bouncing up and down in her seat with joy.

Minerva rolled her eyes and said, "I can assure you, Poppy, that I will not attempt to guess, so you may as well spit it out now before you give yourself a heart attack."

Poppy scoffed before saying, "I've met the man I'm going to marry!"

Minerva, who had picked the most unfortunate time to begin sipping from her water, choked, and it was many seconds later before she was able to look at Poppy, her eyes watering from her choking fit, and a look of astonishment on her face. "Honestly, Poppy, don't tell me it's that Hufflepuff boy you've fancied since first year-"

Poppy waved her hand dismissively. "No, no, Richard was just a faze; besides he's dating that Arabella from Ravenclaw. No, the man I'm going to marry is older."

"A seventh year?" asked Minerva, searching her brain for a seventh year her friend would want to marry.

Poppy shook her head, a radiant smile on her face. "Older."

Minerva raised an eyebrow, wondering what on Earth Poppy was talking about. Poppy seemed to notice her friend's growing irritation, and she leaned in closer to Minerva to whisper, "He's a teacher."

Minerva reeled back and exclaimed, "A teacher!"

"Hush!" Poppy insisted, holding a hand over Minerva's mouth and looking around the Great Hall warily. "It's that new teacher in Transfiguration, you know, the one that didn't show up to the feast last night."

"Well he didn't show up to breakfast this morning either," said Minerva indignantly. "Nor is he at lunch at this very moment. Honestly, he sounds to me as if he can't even handle being punctual, why on Earth would you want a man like that?"

Poppy rolled her eyes. "Because, Minerva, unlike you I could care less about punctuality. And not only that, but he had good reason to miss the feast and breakfast. He was on Ministry business during the feast yesterday, you see, he's a very important man, and so he was also out late last night, and therefore did not wake early enough this morning, and, not wanting to interrupt breakfast, he had some delivered to his rooms. Same with lunch, because he wanted time to go over his class scheduling, instead of doing it at the staff table, he chose to eat lunch in his office. Poor man, already working himself to death."

Minerva rolled her eyes this time. "So he has his excuses, sure, but what makes you think he'll marry you? How old is the man? He can't be very young if he's a teacher."

Poppy's smile widened. "He's only twenty-five. That's only eight years older than us. And, oh, Min, you should see him. He's so handsome. He's got the most gorgeous auburn hair, and those enchanting blue eyes…"

Poppy trailed off, taking on a dreamy look, and Minerva shook her head at her.

"But don't you dare get any ideas," said Poppy suddenly, snapping back to reality. "Just about every girl in school is going to want him, and I'm sure you will too, but I saw him first, so you can just bugger off."

Minerva rolled her eyes once more. "Don't worry yourself, Poppy," said Minerva as she rose to her feet. "I'm quite sure I'll have no interest in the man." Minerva snatched her book out of Poppy's hands and gathered the rest of her books before leaving the Great Hall and making her way towards her next class. It just so happened that Transfiguration was Minerva's next class, and she had to admit she was a bit curious as to who this new professor was. She wasn't going to fall in love with the man, but she had to know what all the fuss was about. The fact that Minerva arrived early to all of her classes only meant that she would be able to find out what he was truly like before the rest of the students entered the classroom, because apparently one of her best friend's was going to marry him.

However, as Minerva approached the door to the Transfiguration room, something strange began to settle over her, and she paused with her hand on the door. Something felt…oddly familiar. She decided it was just the familiarity of being in this very same room for five years – but inside she didn't really believe that. She didn't feel…in danger though. In fact she had felt something like this before…but no – it couldn't be.

Breathing in deeply, Minerva pushed open the door and stepped into the Transfiguration classroom. The room looked much the same as it had the year before, but instead of Professor Stone's random, elaborate ancient artifacts placed about the room, now there were many strange trinkets spinning and whirring. Minerva recognized a few of them as rare magical gadgets, while others she had never seen before, and she was almost positive that there was a slinky placed on one corner of this new professor's desk.

At the moment, the new professor was seated behind his desk, his head down and his eyes on his parchment as he scribbled something down hurriedly. He didn't look up when Minerva entered the room, much to her annoyance. He didn't even acknowledge her presence. Letting the door swing closed loudly, she started down the row of desks towards her normal seat up front. On her way she attempted to examine the features that she could see at the moment to perhaps find what it was that Poppy found so attractive about this man. All she could really see though was his shoulder-length auburn hair.

Halfway towards her seat, Minerva lost the grip on her books and looked down to quickly readjust them in her arms. At that very same moment, the new professor glanced up at her before returning his gaze to his parchment.

"I apologize," he said as Minerva looked back up at him. "I'm afraid if I distract myself it'll take me days to remember what I wanted to write down, but I would love to know your name. I'm Professor Dumbledore. I also arrived to all of my classes early in my school days. Unless, of course, you're merely curious to know your new professor, which is understandable. However, if you've come to see how handsome I am, I'm afraid I may disappoint you."

Minerva opened her mouth to insist that she most certainly was not there to fawn over Professor Dumbledore, but he spoke first, placing his quill on his desk and making a satisfied noise. "There we are," he murmured, rising to his feet, his eyes still downcast. He reached for a small glass bowl on his desk that looked to be filled with candy, and then finally looked up at her.

The moment their eyes met, Minerva knew exactly why she had had that sense of familiarity before she had entered the classroom. The books in her arms fell to the floor, and the bowl of candy in Professor Dumbledore's hand was dropped, shattering and sending candy and shards of glass flying around his ankles when it connected with the stone floor. Neither of these events was acknowledge by either occupant of the room.

"Albus," Minerva breathed at that same time that Professor Dumbledore gasped, "Minerva."

Now Minerva understood that feeling of familiarity she had experienced outside the classroom – that unnerving feeling she couldn't describe. She had searched books for weeks, months, years after she had parted ways with the boy that had healed her wounds, something she could not find a reason for, and something she could not explain to her parents when she had run back to them. As far as she was aware, only she and Albus knew of what had happened that day and the strange connection they had experienced. And she certainly remembered Albus, though when she last saw him, he was but a boy, and she even younger. Now she stood before him, not much younger than he was when they met, and he a grown man, a teacher and – as Poppy had said – a very important man that was also working for the Ministry.

But then she remembered…what Albus had been discussing with the boy named Gellert. Gellert, who, on that day, had said, "For the greater good," the preferred phrase of one Gellert Grindelwald, who looked just as Minerva remembered the young Gellert that had tried to kill her, and who had started a wizarding war only a few months before. Could Albus possibly still be friends with Gellert? Was he spying on the other side for Grindelwald, or had he and Gellert no longer conversed after Albus had allowed Minerva to get away nearly six years ago?

Albus was the first to speak after a long moment of stunned silence. "I never thought I'd see you again," he said quietly, timidly, as if he were afraid of her.

Minerva swallowed in an attempt to wet her suddenly dry mouth, and then took in a deep breath before replying, "I never expected such a thing myself."

Albus gazed at her a moment longer, then said, "You're – er – taller."

Minerva raised a thin eyebrow in response. "Yes," she said, "that tends to happen when one ages. I see you've let your hair grow."

Albus chuckled, which, thankfully, relieved some of the tension in the room. "Yes, I thought it made me look quite rebellious."

At this, Minerva's mind once more returned to Albus's friendship with Gellert, and she found that she could no longer keep her questions at bay. "What happened after I left you with Gellert that day? Am I wrong to believe that that same Gellert is the Gellert Grindelwald currently causing war? And are you or are you not in acquaintance with him?"

Albus frowned, but when he spoke again, his lips twitched upward slightly. "Right to the point I see. You're exactly as I remember you. You are right to assume that the Gellert you met and the Gellert Grindelwald leading the war is the same person. He and I are no longer in acquaintance, in fact I am a part of the resistance against him. As for what happened after you left that day…I believe that should be left for another time."

Before Minerva could object, Albus waved his wand once and three things happened: His dish of candy repaired itself and returned to its place on his desk, Minerva's books rose onto the desk in the front row she always sat at and the chair pulled out for her to sit in, and the door to the classroom opened, allowing entrance to the crowd of students Minerva hadn't realized was waiting outside.

As Minerva hastily took her seat and watched Albus smiling brightly around at the class, she noticed that Poppy had been right when she said that he was rather handsome. But, of course, the rest of the girls in the classroom seemed to have noticed as well, for they were all whispering and giggling and fighting for seats in the front of the classroom. Minerva frowned at their behavior, but deep down inside of her, she felt as if she could not allow Poppy or any of these other giggling girls to marry Albus Dumbledore.

May 30, 1943

Albus watched in tense silence as Minerva McGonagall attempted to turn into a cat. Her eyes were tightly closed, her face screwed up in concentration. Perspiration dripped from her forehead and strands of raven hair fell from a blue ribbon currently holding back her hair. They had been at this for nearly two hours already, and Albus knew he would have to end it soon. With Minerva's growing frustration and impatience, the complex act of transforming into an animagus form was becoming increasingly more risky.

He had been slightly frightened, at first, when Minerva had asked him to train her to become an animagus. He had not wanted to be responsible should something terrible happen to her, he couldn't live with it. But he knew, should he refuse, she would merely attempt it by herself, which was much more dangerous. So, after getting the right clearance from both Headmaster Dippet and the right Ministry officials, as well as signed documentation from himself, the Headmaster, the Ministry, Minerva, and her parents – who were not entirely keen on the idea –, Albus had begun to give her private lessons after dinner on certain weekends and weekdays. So far, the lessons had gone well, and Albus and Minerva had become closer friends than before.

After only a few weeks of Albus's first term as a teacher the year before, he and Minerva had found that ignoring their connection was not something they could do with ease. Albus had invited Minerva to tea in his office in hopes that they could discuss it – and, Albus confessed to himself that he wanted to know more about her, she intrigued him. In the end they had made no headway in discovering more about their connection, however, they did play a game of chess, during which they learned quite a bit about each other. The game had been a tie, which had never happened for either of them before, and so they had resolved to play again sometime. This progressed into sometimes weekly chess matches over tea, until the summer, at which time they exchanged letters. Then Minerva's seventh year began, and with Minerva's animagus training, which she had begun at the start of term, the two saw quite a lot of each other. While they still didn't know much about their connection, they now knew that it had become a part of them, instead of a sense of unease.

Albus would be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to Minerva. As wrong as he knew it was, he couldn't change his feelings for her. He wasn't sure if their strange connection had a hand in it, but it wouldn't matter if it did. There were many other reasons he felt as he did for her. But none of those reasons mattered, because there could never be anything between them. Not only was he her teacher, but eight years older. Of course, his parents had been ten years apart when they had married…but that was besides point. He was her teacher. She was also eighteen, a year past her coming of age, and graduating in less than two weeks…again, not the point. He had at first tried to believe she could never feel anything other than friendship for him, which made it easier to forget what he felt, but then he noticed the way she began acting around him, the way she looked at him…he wasn't an idiot, and neither was she. She probably already knew how he felt about her, but that didn't make it anymore right…

Minerva hissed in frustration then, obviously finding it irksome that, out of all of her practice, she had only managed to grow some fur, sometimes shrink slightly. Albus knew she was pushing herself too hard. She wanted it too badly. Not to mention the time she didn't spend in class or at animagus training was spent studying and stressing over N.E.W.T.'s. She needed a break, but every time he told her this she would wave it off with a hint of irritation.

Just as Albus was about to tell her to relax for a moment, she either read his mind or decided herself, because her eyes flew open and she muttered, "I need a break."

But as Minerva blinked, Albus noticed the subtle change, the way her face had gone pale and the way her eyes widened slightly and grew fuzzy. Without thinking, he reached out to wrap his arms around her waist just as she stumbled and nearly fell. In the next moment, her color was already returning and her eyes were no longer glazed over. She blinked, and at the same moment they both noticed the close proximity.

Albus's breath hitched in his throat and he felt his heartbeat quicken, he attempted to step away from Minerva, but she had gripped the front of his robes tightly when she had nearly fallen and she had yet to loosen her grip. She didn't seem at all stable on her feet either, and he cast his eyes around frantically for somewhere to sit her down before one of them did something they'd regret.

Too late.

Minerva leaned in and their lips met in a heated kiss that both had been unconsciously longing for. Her arms slid around his neck and, much to Albus's chagrin, his arms tightened around her waist, drawing her closer.

But then he pulled away, gently pushing her back as he turned from her. He couldn't face her, and all he could think to say was, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have –"

"Don't apologize," Minerva interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper, and he heard her take a step closer to him.

He turned back to her, and though their eyes met and the connection between them suddenly seemed to be buzzing with excitement, he knew that there could be nothing between them. At least not now, possible not ever. She was young, and he had no right to take her life from her, should she fall in love with another and realize her feelings for Albus were not that deep.

But that damned connection was making his mind fuzzy, and all he managed to stammer was, "We shouldn't…can't…it's not…you wouldn't –"

She cut across him again. "Can't, or won't?"

Albus swallowed the lump in his throat and attempted to breathe. It was difficult. He answered her truthfully. "Can't."

Minerva sucked in a breath herself then, and, it looked as if she was steeling herself for something before she took a bold step forward, closing most of the distance between the two as she whispered, "I won't tell if you won't."

How could he refuse her? With the dim candle light casting an angelic glow on her features, her emerald eyes burning as she stared straight into his…he couldn't say no. No matter how much he wanted to. He was falling too deeply in love with her, but he did nothing to stop it.

And so a relationship began. Secretly of course, since Minerva was still his student. But Minerva and Albus were both very powerful, both very intelligent, and they had no problems sneaking around. It was slightly troublesome, but completely worth it. They had only two weeks to worry about it though, since Minerva was to graduate soon, and then it would not matter who was aware of their relationship. They did, however, decide that they would speak to Minerva's parents before they found out through someone else. Until that time, no one would need to be aware of their relationship.

So, one night after another chess game with Albus, Minerva was hurrying back to her common room with only two minutes until she was considered to be out after hours. She was Head Girl, so she wouldn't get into much trouble should she be found, but it was not her night to patrol the corridors half an hour after curfew to make sure there were no more students out of bed, and the Head Girl was only supposed to patrol with the Head Boy, especially after the Chamber of Secrets had been opened earlier that year and a girl named Myrtle had been killed. So far, the situation seemed to have been dealt with, but the rest of the teachers were still a little on edge, including Albus, who had attempted to walk her to the Gryffindor common room. But the two hadn't scheduled animagus training that night, so it would look peculiar should the Transfiguration professor be found walking a student back to her common room when no one was aware of a reason she should have been with him at that time of night to begin with.

Minerva was nearly at her common room when suddenly she noticed someone striding down the corridor towards her, looking quite annoyed.

"Tom," gasped Minerva as the tall, dark-haired sixth year Slytherin stopped just two feet from her. "What in Merlin's name are you doing out of bed?"

Tom Riddle sneered, and Minerva inwardly cringed. On the outside she was the epitome of calm and authoritative. "I could ask you the same thing," said Tom.

Minerva took a step back as Tom took a step forward. She worried slightly that this could end badly. While she didn't think that Tom would injure her, per say, she still worried about his sudden obsessive nature over her. She had gone to great lengths to ensure that she didn't end up alone with him these past few months, but he had been out of bed after hours quite a bit lately, and she inwardly cursed herself for not thinking of that when she left Albus's office.

She stood up straighter and placed her balled fists on her hips, narrowing her eyes up at Tom Riddle, who continued to smile at her in that unnerving way. "I am Head Girl –" she attempted to begin, but Tom cut her off.

"I don't believe it is your night to patrol the corridors, Minerva," he stated.

"I assure you that that is none of your business, but I must now tell your Head of House of your midnight stroll."

"Now why would you want to do that?" asked Tom, taking another step forward and forcing Minerva back once more. She realized too late that he was backing her into the wall, and only noticed when she felt the cold, hard brick on her back. "What happened to us, Minerva?" She reached for her wand, but he gripped her wrist firmly in his thin, cold fingered grip and pulled it away from the pocket that held her wand. "We were such good friends."

Despite all this, Minerva refused to allow him to intimidate her. "I admit that we were once close acquaintances, but that vanished when you decided to treat me as your possession, always demanding rather than asking me if I would like to speak with you, or even be in your company, which I most certainly do not. So if you will please let me go I will be on my way."

There was a flash of rage in Tom's eyes that caused Minerva's heart to skip a beat in sudden fear. She held her breath, bracing herself for something, she wasn't sure what, but all Tom did was grip her upper arms tightly and press her against the wall as he hissed, "I know where you've been, Minerva, and I assure you that one day you will be mine. If I have to get rid of Albus Dumbledore to do so then –"

But Tom did not get to finish his threat, for at that moment the man he had been speaking of stepped around the corner and shouted, "Mr. Riddle!"

Tom gritted his teeth in frustration and, without looking away from a suddenly tearful Minerva, let her go and took a step back. "I apologize, Professor," he said.

"I think you should apologize to Miss McGonagall," said Albus as he stepped between the two. "And then you should be returning to your dormitory."

"I apologize, Minerva," said Tom, the reluctance clear in his voice and the way his body tensed.

"I shall inform you of the time and place of your detention by tomorrow, Mr. Riddle," said Albus.

"Of course, Professor," muttered Tom, and then, without another word, he spun on his heel and strode off down the corridor.

When the sound of Tom's footsteps had faded, Albus turned to Minerva with a worried expression. "Are you all right?" he asked her.

She merely nodded in response, unable to speak at the moment. Threating her life was one thing, but threatening Albus's was something else entirely, and she needed the comfort of him, so she stepped forward, sliding her arms around him and laying her head on his chest. He complied, sliding his own arms around her waist and kissing the top of her head, rubbing her back soothingly. She allowed no tears to fall from her eyes, and a few moments later she was able to step away from him.

"What happened?" Albus asked her, as she knew he would.

But she had no answer for him.

"Nothing, Albus," she replied.

"Minerva, that certainly was not just nothing," he argued.

"He was angry with me is all," Minerva lied.

Albus noticed immediately.

"You're lying to me."

"Not really."

"Minerva please –"

"Really, Albus, he was just angry at me because I was going to get him another detention," she insisted.

Albus sighed. Minerva knew that he knew that she was lying, but she knew he wasn't going to press her for answers. So with a quick kiss on the cheek, she was on her way, returning to her common room late and waving off her friends' questions as she went straight to her dormitory, where sleep did not claim her until the early hours of morning.