Time is a cruel thief to rob us of our former selves. We lose as much to life as we do to death.
-Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey, 'A Woman of Independent Means'

Minerva frowned as she stood in her classroom, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to do. Traveling back in time was no small task, made all the more difficult by how far back she would be arriving. She needed to arrive before the Ministry had the knowledge and technology to monitor such large jumps, but some time after the Department of Mysteries had acquired the Sands of Time for experimentation, which had been roughly 50 years ago.

Surprisingly, out of everyone in the Order, it was Minerva who had been chosen for the mission. She suspected Albus had had a hand in it, which made very little sense. He had been adamant about her taking it easy after her brush with death, slowly driving her insane. And then, all of a sudden, he had chosen her for this task.

Even stranger, he had remained rather quiet about the whole affair. After setting up the special time turner for a date whose significance only he knew, Albus had simply sat back and watched over his half-moon spectacles as the rest of the Order planned and offered advice.

It was almost as though he were avoiding her.

Minerva sighed. There was no time to find him before she needed to leave. He was probably asleep anyway, as it was nearly 2:00 in the morning. She would just have to confront Dumbledore when she returned. It would only be a few hours from his end, anyway. She could remain in the past for up to a week before the time turner automatically activated itself.

She took a deep breath and compressed the gold button on top of the hourglass. As soon as her surroundings began blurring together she carefully tucked the time turner back down the front of her robes and closed her eyes, already dizzy.


Albus Dumbledore groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he checked his pocket watch. The approach of final exams meant more work which, in turn, meant late nights grading Transfiguration papers and endeavoring to correct faulty transformations. He hadn't meant to stay awake this late, however. It was past time for him to get some rest.

Just as he was gathering up his graded papers, he was shocked into immobility by the appearance of a woman in the middle aisle near the front row of desks. Her raven-black hair had been pulled back into a bun, her pale skin was beginning to show signs of age, and she wore emerald green robes and square spectacles. Even as Albus examined her, lightly skimming her surface thoughts (confusion? anxiety?), she stumbled and barely caught herself on a desk. The unknown witch did not move for several long moments, catching her breath, perhaps?

Suddenly, as if sensing him, her head whipped up and she pinned him in his seat with her sharp gray eyes. "Albus?" she murmured, dazed, and he caught a myriad of emotions running through her eyes and voice. Surprise, affection, disapproval, and a hint of exasperation?

Almost immediately her eyes widened in panic, and she whirled around, shrinking into a small gray tabby cat mid-step and bounding out the classroom door. Albus' stunner shot high over the feline's head, and her transformation caught him off-guard so that he had no chance to stop her before she was gone. He knew for a fact that there were no cat Animagi on the current Ministry registrar.

By the time he made it to the classroom door the dark halls appeared deserted. There was no one, woman or cat, to be seen. Slowly Albus stepped back into the room, closing the door behind him.

He could not get the woman's face out of his mind.

In the few years since his defeat of Grindelwald women had practically thrown themselves at him. The esteemed scholar and hero the Wizarding World had become a much sought after prize. So much so that he had become wary of people's intentions toward him. It pained Albus beyond words that it had become likely he would never marry, careful as he had to be with his heart.

But this witch…. Albus feared he had already given his heart away, and he felt all the more foolish for it. To fall in love upon first seeing her. And why?

Because somehow, someway, he saw it in her eyes or heard it in her voice; she didn't simply know of him, she knew him.


Minerva sped quickly and quietly out of the castle and beyond the wards, only stopping after Apparating into a park on the outskirts of London. She panted, winded from both her panic and her run, and cursed under her breath.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Dizzy and reeling from her journey as she had been, how could she have failed to notice that Albus had been so much younger than the wizard she knew, his beard only beginning to turn white, his skin not so lined with age? What on earth could he have been doing up so late anyway?

She could only pray he would believe she would not dare to return. Hopefully he would not alert anyone to her presence. It was not Headmaster Armando Dippet she was worried about, who had become rather ineffectual in his old age, but the Aurors or the Ministry.

Minerva sighed, rubbing eyes that burned with fatigue. There was nothing she could do about it now. She needed sleep, and then she needed to concentrate on making her way unnoticed into the Department of Mysteries.

Carefully checking to make sure no one was watching, she transformed back into her cat form and curled up in a tree for the night.


She slept late into the afternoon, as planned, and spent the few hours until the dinner break monitoring a little used side door to the Ministry. Once she was sure the coast was clear she slipped inside after carefully disguising herself. She had spent weeks studying blueprints of the pertinent Ministry floors and the spells and locations of guards, as well as going through the Pensieve memories of the Order members who had been in the Department of Mysteries. Hopefully her knowledge wouldn't fail her.

Minerva would need to be extremely careful. She couldn't risk anyone seeing either her face or her transformation. There was no telling what consequences it might have for her past self.

Using the dinner crowd to dodge by the security wizard unseen, she strode by the lift and used the stairs instead, all the while thanking Merlin that most wizards were too lazy to stand a little exercise.

Once outside the Department of Mysteries, she squeezed into the small space between a pillar and the wall in her cat form, careful to have an unhindered view of the door to the department. Minerva settled in for long hours of waiting, remaining as alert as possible and using her sight and hearing to estimate how many people were working at the moment, as well as identifying who left and returned. She would only make her move when the last of the Unspeakables left for the night, but before the night guard arrived.

At last, the remainder of the Unspeakables exited, and she slunk quickly through, keeping low and to the shadows. The door nearly closed on her tail, but none of the witches or wizards noticed. At once the doors began spinning at a dizzying speed before abruptly coming to a halt.

Minerva sat on the ground and narrowed her eyes, tail lashing. In learning to become a cat, she had picked up several of their magical skills as well. The ability to see magic was common in all cats, and with her human mind, Minerva could sometimes manipulate that magic as well. Unfortunately, such methods of seeing did not transfer over to her human form.

What she needed to see was the magic that denoted the door to the time room. She had only one try available. If she missed, the room would spin as soon as she closed the door from the outside. The guard would notice immediately.

After a moment she sensed that two doors to the right lead to the time room, and immediately became human again. Stepping through, her heart racing, she breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed the container of sand. The wall of time turners had not yet been created.

Considering how nervous she was, Minerva's hands were surprisingly steady as she extracted the spelled pouch and her spare wand. A sharp rap on the side of the large container, and a stream of golden sand passed through the side and into the pouch, untouched by human hands. Once it was full, she sealed it shut, hid it deep within her robes, and then turned to the door. She took a moment to calm herself. This would be the most difficult part of her mission. Hopefully her luck would hold.

The moment the door clicked shut behind her she transformed into a cat and crouched, muscles tense. The doors spun around her, but she closed her eyes to it, and focused all of her attention on what she could hear.

There. Cursing. The sound of footsteps. She darted across the room and pressed herself against the wall just as the door out of the Department of Mysteries swung open. The wizard was not looking down and did not notice her slinking out. He did, however, notice that an intruder had disturbed the wards.

Minerva sprinted to the stairs, changing into her human form only long enough to open the door, before returning to her Animagus form once again. She heard him shout as he caught sight of the moving door, and it only spurred her on to run faster. She skidded into the empty Atrium and reached an Apparition point, disappearing before the wizard could get a glimpse of her face.

Knowing they could trace her, she didn't dare stay in one place for too long, appearing and disappearing throughout Scotland and England before managing to catch a bus in Muggle Edinburgh. Only then did she breathe a sight of relief and relax.

It was so late it was early when she checked into a Muggle hotel and nearly collapsed onto her bed. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.


Minerva kept to her room the next day, hardly daring to venture out and jumping at the slightest noise. She wouldn't truly relax until she returned to where she belonged.

After a long and boring day, many hours after the sun had set, she checked her watch. It seemed much later than 11:00 at night, and she was both physically and mentally exhausted. After checking out and walking a safe distance away from any potential witnesses, she apparated into Hogsmeade. She wanted nothing more than to return to her time and sleep the weekend away.

But first, she needed to find a safe place to hide the Sands of Time, one that would last 50 years. She had an idea, but that required a trip to the Headmaster's office. She was rather leery of returning to Hogwarts. Her mission had been going far too smoothly. Albus was the true threat in the castle, but the chances were that she could completely avoid him if she waited long enough before making use of her future classroom. What could go wrong?

Minerva very nearly turned right back around and disapparated.

She shortly reached the main doors to the castle and followed the stone walls around to a secret entrance only the teacher's knew about. It opened onto the second floor looking down onto the Great Hall.

It was lucky she had decided to avoid the ground floor, she thought as she peeked over the railing. There were two wizards in an alcove to the side of the main doors. One must have been a seventh year, and the other….

Her wand was in her hand before she even realized what she was doing, clenching her fingers around the familiar handle. Recruiting, she thought angrily as she watched a younger Tom Riddle speak.

Albus Dumbledore had watched invisibly as the Animagus entered through the staff entrance, the mystery surrounding her growing. How had she known about the door?

His sharp eyes picked out her expression when she noticed the two wizards below. He saw fury in her emerald eyes, but behind that a bone-deep fear that shook him. She made a motion with her wand before abruptly aborting whatever spell she had in mind and viciously throwing herself away from the balcony with a silent cry.

It would have been so easy, Minerva thought. So easy to kill him and prevent the horror and the murder Riddle had instigated. But she couldn't. To destroy the timeline….

She strode rapidly into the nearest secret passage and thoughtlessly headed in the direction of the Headmaster's office slipping from passage to passage. Albus let her go, instinct telling him that she would return to his classroom. All he needed to do was wait.

Upon reaching the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office, Minerva transformed into her cat form and used her magic sight and claws to temporarily jam the wards that would alert anyone to her presence. The portraits tended to sleep more often than not, especially when nothing was happening in the office. As long as she was quiet, she would likely not be caught.

Ah, Miss McGonagall, the Sorting Hat murmured as soon as she lifted it onto her head, the brim pulled down low. Or should I say Professor McGonagall? My, this is interesting.

Will you keep this meeting secret? she asked. And will you keep the sands safe until Albus asks for them?

Of course, of course, it said. How could I pass up such a fascinating opportunity? You know what to do.

Thank you, Minerva thought before lifting the Sorting Hat off of her head, and gently placing the precious pouch inside of it. Harry's incident with Gryffindor's sword had given her this idea, and she was rather proud of herself for thinking of this.

She exited and quickly hid in one of the lesser-known and abandoned classrooms. More waiting. She didn't dare enter the Transfiguration classroom until 3:00 in the morning. The entire castle, including Albus, would definitely be in bed by then. Patrols ended by 1:00, and any troublemakers usually returned to their common rooms by 2:00.


Minerva slipped silently into the dark Transfiguration classroom, turning to lock the door as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. She would be home soon, back to her own time where she could finally relax and not worry about how her actions could unhinge the timeline.

She froze, inhaling sharply as a wand pressed lightly against her throat and an arm encircled her waist like a vice, pinning her arms to her sides. Heart pounding, she cringed backward, pressing herself firmly against the person who had captured her, her head leaning against his shoulder in an effort to put space between the wand and her throat.

"Why are you slinking into my classroom?" a very familiar voice questioned softly, with an undercurrent of danger.

Minerva slumped slightly, cursing fluently in her mind. Albus.

"Well?" he asked, but she remained stubbornly silent. Quite suddenly the witch was spun around, and she let out a soft cry as the room was suddenly lit up by the sconces on the wall. Minerva blinked rapidly, wishing her eyes would adjust to the brightness more quickly.

"You again," Albus said, gaze losing its hardness as he took in her appearance. Her bun was quite a bit looser than it had been, her hair beginning to fall out and frame her face, softening her features. The witch's green robes were a bit worn, and she looked exhausted. "Who are you, how did you get into Hogwarts, and why are you here?"

Minerva searched her mind for an escape. She certainly wasn't going to tell him.

"You are certainly an interesting puzzle. Will you not even give me your name?" Albus continued after several patient minutes of silence.

Her stubborn glare was answer enough, and he chuckled a bit at her spirit and strength of will. "Very well, my dear."

Minerva sucked in a breath at the endearment. He had known. The Albus of her time remembered this. Why hadn't he warned her? Why had he allowed her to walk blind into such a situation?!

Albus stalked closer, invading her space. Minerva stepped back and bumped into the door, her breathing slightly unsteady. Why was she so nervous? She knew Albus, although this younger Albus did not know her. He would not harm her.

"Interestingly enough," he commented lightly, "this morning's edition of the Daily Prophet contained an article about a break-in at the Ministry. The Aurors have neither leads nor suspects, and the night guards saw nothing."

She stiffened slightly at his words, and her movement did not go unnoticed.

"I suspected as much," the wizard murmured, close enough that he could detect her perfume. "I believe it would be best if you would answer my questions before I must get the Ministry involved."

She watched him, a flicker of fear in her eyes. Albus felt a pang at having caused such an emotion in her.

"You wouldn't," Minerva said, eyes narrowing and flashing with anger.

The sight took his breath away, even as his frustration with the witch before him grew. "Try me, my dear," he said, and before Albus realized what he was doing, he had kissed her, the weight of his body pressing her against the wall.

Minerva froze in shock, mind blank. Never had she imagined that Albus would do such a thing, especially with her. Her lack of reaction seemed not to faze the older wizard as he flicked his tongue into her mouth, hands running up and down her sides. She shivered as heat spread through her body and pooled in her stomach. She couldn't think, could only feel, and his lips were moving so insistently against hers that she found herself unable to do anything but respond to him.

A low moan escaped her, and brought reality crashing down upon them. Albus stepped back abruptly and the two stared at each other, chests heaving.

Minerva's eyes widened in panic and she reached desperately for her Animagus form, only to stagger at the force of the whiplash, still human. He'd blocked her transformation, she realized, while they had been…. Pushing those thoughts away, her hand plunged into her robes for her wand, only to find that it was missing along with her spare.

Her gaze flew to the man before her, and she saw her wands tucked into his belt. A surge of fury burned away any embarrassment or panic, and her green eyes flashed. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," she gasped without hesitation or stumble, as if she had said his full name many times before. "How dare you!"

She raised a hand to strike him, but her hand seemed as though it were moving through molasses. He caught her wrist easily and pinned it to the wall. Another spell, then. One to prevent any sudden movements. He had certainly been thorough, Minerva thought bitterly as she turned her head away from him. She was trapped.

"Perhaps you might begin with why you are here? And then we can move on to what exactly you so impressively stole from the Department of Mysteries, my little thief," he said gently, placing a hand on her cheek to turn her face toward him.

"Stop that," Minerva hissed. "Just…stop." She tried to jerk her head away, but Albus had grasped her chin firmly. She closed her eyes, though whether to hide the hurt that reverberated through her body or to prevent tears from falling, she didn't know.

Albus had kissed her just as a distraction? How could he? How could he toy with her like that?

Why wouldn't he? She was a stranger, appearing from nowhere to steal from the Ministry. In his eyes Minerva was nothing more than a thief and a threat. She wasn't his closest friend and confidante; they hadn't known each other for decades.

She wanted to go home.

Albus sighed and leaned in close. "I'm sorry," he murmured, voice ringing with sincerity. He ran his fingers gently along her neck and encountered the cool metal of a necklace chain as he had half-expected to.

Minerva paid no attention to him. She concentrated instead on her magic, and reached out slightly with her free hand. "Accio," she whispered as quietly as she could. But Albus was too close and reacted immediately, grabbing her free hand. Minerva's wand clattered to the floor as he pinned her wrists above her head.

"Impressive," the wizard commented lightly. His curiosity not to be deterred, he grasped the necklace and pulled it up and over her head.

For the first time since he had caught the witch, she began to struggle wildly. "No!" she shouted, nearly wrenching her wrists out of his grasp. "Don't touch that! Let me go!"

It was too late. Albus saw clearly what had emerged from her robes and, having seen and even assisted with the prototypes, knew what it was. He nearly dropped it in shock before placing it carefully back around her neck and stepping back.

"A Time-Turner?" he breathed.

Minerva grasped the small hourglass, as if to assure herself that it was safe and sound. "Yes," she said reluctantly.

"Ah," he said, at a loss for words.

She watched him pace in agitation. "Why are you here?" he asked at last.

"Here as in the Transfiguration classroom? Or here as in this time period?" she questioned.

"Both."

"I'm in this classroom to ensure I'm not seen coming or going." She hesitated before continuing. "And…you sent me here."

Albus, if it was possible, paled even further. "Why would – no. I know you can't answer that."

She said nothing.

"I suppose you will be leaving, then," he said softly, and moved forward, lightly brushing his fingertips against her cheek. His blue eyes studied her intensely, as if memorizing every part of her. Albus leaned toward, hesitating before pressing a kiss to her temple. "I am sorry."

"Albus." She caught his hand, searching for something to say.

"Are you from very far in the future?" he asked as she held the Time-Turner in her hand.

She nodded wordlessly.

"I'll wait for you, my dear."

Minerva's confusion was evident, but before she could form a question, she disappeared.

She reappeared in her dark and silent classroom in her own time. Her odds and ends, her ungraded papers, her lesson plans.

Pale with exhaustion and awash with dread, Minerva made her way to Albus' office. His company had always been a refuge. Her world seemed off balance without that, and she didn't know how to get the comfort she gained in Albus' presence back.


Albus sat silently at his desk, head in his hands. Minerva would be coming to see him any minute. He had no idea what to say to her. How to excuse the actions of his younger self. He had known for years that it would come to this. That his friendship with her would be compromised. And there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

Albus had recognized her the moment she had applied for a teaching position, not only as the mysterious witch who had appeared in his classroom years before, but also as the student she had been. His student. Minerva McGonagall.

He would have thought the intervening years would have worn down his attraction to her, an attraction that he should never have allowed in the first place. If anything, the more Albus spoke with her and got to know her, the more intense his love grew. They had become as close as two people could be without becoming lovers.

And he had very much wanted to become lovers.

She was his equal in every way that mattered. Albus never feared that she saw only his fame or his fortune. It was what had attracted him in the first place, that long time ago. She knew him.

Minerva would be disgusted with him if she knew. How could she love someone so much older than her? He was old enough to be her grandfather. Not to mention the threat of Voldemort hung heavy over him. Minerva was enough of a target without Albus giving Tom more incentive to capture and kill her.

His heart constricted at the thought.

But Albus couldn't lie to her. Not about something of this magnitude. And he was too selfish to push her away if Minerva agreed, if she loved him, regardless of the dangers.

A familiar knock interrupted his morose thoughts, and he folded his hands on his desk. "Come in," he said, and a familiar figure stepped into the Headmaster's office.

He couldn't quite look Minerva in the eye.


For the next few days after informing Albus of the location of the Sands of Time, Minerva avoided him, and Albus didn't seek her out. As it was the middle of summer vacation, there were few around to notice.

But now, heart in her throat, she stood poised to knock at his door. They had scheduled this meeting to go over the budget and incoming first years long before, and she refused to allow any awkwardness to affect her duties as Deputy Headmistress.

Albus looked up from his desk, surprised and uncomfortable when she entered.

"Minerva!" he exclaimed. "I didn't realize you would be coming, my…" He trailed off before completing the endearment as she flinched.

"Of course I'm here," she said, allowing faint annoyance to creep into her voice. "We've had this meeting scheduled for weeks, Albus. Trust you to forget."

Albus hadn't forgotten. He had simply assumed that she would continue to avoid him. He should have known better than to think her responsibilities would be affected.

The meeting passed quickly, with very little in the way of side conversation occurring. He stood as she did, expecting her to leave. His heart sank when she took a deep breath and faced him with an expression of firm resolve. And so the questions would come.

"Albus," she said, mind searching for a way to phrase what she wanted to know and coming up with nothing. "Why?" Minerva asked at last, the hurt bubbling up anew.

Albus didn't pretend ignorance. Instead, he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her waist as she rested her hands on his chest. Leaning down he pressed a soft kiss to her lips, as gentle as their first had been passionate. "Because I love you, my dear Minerva."

She stared at him, taken aback.

"You knew me, Minerva. Somehow, some way I didn't understand then, you knew who I was when all around me sought my fame or fortune. When I found you again I didn't think I could bear to let you go. And I fell more in love with you the longer I knew you."

"Albus," she breathed.

His grip on her tightened before he released. "I understand if you are upset or even disgusted, Minerva," Albus said, his expression losing its vulnerability as he rebuilt his mask. "We shall, of course, never speak of this again, if that is your wish. I do apologize for my forwardness – "

Albus got no further as Minerva interrupted him with a kiss.

He stared at her in blank astonishment as she smiled shyly at him.

"I return your love wholeheartedly, Albus," she said.

He crushed Minerva to him and lowered them both onto the couch. He kissed her frantically. For the first time in 50 years his tongue explored her mouth, and she moaned at his touch.

Even if the present wasn't ideal, there was still hope for the future.


Age does not protect you from love. But love, to some extent, protects you from age.
-Jeanne Moreau