Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The clock struck twelve. It was officially a new day, and it was thirty-two days that he had been gone. Minerva had received no word from him; her only solace was the fact that the death of someone as important as Albus Dumbledore would be reported almost instantly.

A part of her wished that there would be some news of him, no matter what it said. Anything would be better than this waiting, this lonely prison. There was no one in Minerva's life like him, and his absence made her feel incomplete. Hearing anything would be helpful.

Minerva knew that she was not the only concerned one; all the others at Number 12, Grimmauld Place were anxious for him too. It was strange; they all assumed that Minerva was in correspondence with him. Everyone knew that they were very close. Minerva wished nothing more than to hear from him, but she did not, and it was killing her slowly.

Sighing, Minerva felt at her neck for the chain which hung there. There was a ring hanging on it, and she took it in her hand and closed her eyes. Please be careful, Albus.

The noise of someone in the hall made Minerva open her eyes. She turned around and laid eyes on the cause of her separation from Albus. "Good morning, Mr. Potter." She did not say it unkindly, for she did not blame him. It was her duty to protect him while Albus was gone, although she had been protecting him, duty or not, for years.

Harry started. "Oh…hello, Professor. I didn't know anyone was in here." His voice trembled as he spoke.

Minerva was concerned. "Please, sit."

Harry moved into a chair across the small room. He looked at her a few time, obviously trying to stare inconspicuously.

"What is it, Potter?"

Harry flushed and looked at the floor. "I…er…you look different."

Minerva smiled in spite of herself. He had never seen her with her hair down. "I see." She put the chain back down the front of her robe. "What are you doing up, Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked out the window. "I couldn't sleep. I keep having nightmares."

Minerva's expression softened. She could certainly relate; that was also the reason she was up. Each night, the moment she fell asleep, she was greeted with visions of those most important to her, particularly Albus, murdered. "I'm sorry to hear that, Pot-…Harry."

Harry was pleasantly surprised. She sounded like she meant it. "Do you think…I mean…do you believe there's a world behind the veil?"

She looked at him thoughtfully. "If not behind the veil, then surely somewhere else."

Harry nodded silently and Minerva noticed a small smile on his face. This was not as awkward as she had anticipated. "That's good."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Minerva spoke again. "Harry, I gather that you are still upset with Al-…Professor Dumbledore about what happened. I am not telling you that you have to act as though you are not…but please know that he did nothing to hurt you intentionally. He cares for you more than you know." She watched Harry's reaction closely.

He nodded, his eyes shining. "I know," he said quietly.

"Are you worried about something, Harry?"

"The prophecy. And…I don't want Dumbledore to hate…I mean…I was really horrible to him."

Minerva smiled. "You would have to do much more than you did to even make Al-…Professor Dumbledore upset with you, much less hate you. He is disappointed in himself, not you."

Harry did not speak for a moment. "Was he Headmaster for your seven years at Hogwarts?"

"No, he was the Transfiguration professor and the Head of Gryffindor," she replied. She decided not to correct his other statement yet.

"I imagine you were in Gryffindor."

Minerva sighed. She could tell him. "Yes, if only for a short time."

He looked at her oddly. "What do you mean?"

"Well…my father was…a strange man. He did not send me to school. When he died, I was fifteen and I continued to live at the school. My father had taught me magic and I read extensively, so I went straight into the N.E.W.T.s." She looked at Harry as she spoke.

"What do you mean, you continued to live at Hogwarts? I thought you said…."

Minerva felt the blood rush to her face. She had not meant to say that. "I…my father was the Headmaster before Armando Dippet. I lived in his office."

Harry stared at her. It was strange to hear about her childhood; he had never given it much thought before. "So…you were sorted into Gryffindor for a year?"

She nodded. "When I first met Al-…Professor Dumbledore…I really admired him. When I discovered that he was in charge of Gryffindor, I wanted to live there. The hat told me right away that I was to be in Gryffindor, but then for some reason it decided to explain to me how I could fit into any house. I almost took it off and threw it, I was so bored."

Harry grinned. Talking to Professor McGonagall was highly enjoyable and it was certainly making him forget his grief for awhile. "The Sorting Hat enjoys tormenting us, I think. I was begging it not to put me in Slytherin, but it kept blabbing about how I could be great in there. It scared me to death."

Minerva looked at him with something like pride in her eyes. "It placed you correctly, Mr. Potter."

He shrugged. "I guess. I can't believe it considered anywhere else for you though."

Minerva looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…well…you are really smart and loyal and cunning and all that, but I don't think there's anyone at Hogwarts braver than you. You don't take anything from anyone, and running out to help Hagrid…and standing up to Umbitch." Harry stopped abruptly and stared at the ground. "Sorry, Professor." He glanced at Minerva and saw that her mouth had grown very thin.

"When we return to school, Mr. Potter, there will be some adjustments made to Gryffindor's points. You will receive one hundred. Catchy title, really." She laughed at his expression. "And…thank you, Harry."

They smiled at each other. "Out of curiosity, Harry, why did you avoid being in Slytherin? You did not grow up hearing about its reputation."

"Well…I met Malfoy in Diagon Alley. He started talking about how his whole family had been in Slytherin, and he was so proud of it. He insulted Hagrid, and then on the train he was going on about the Weasleys. I didn't want to be anywhere near him."

"You seem to really hate him, Harry."

Harry looked at her defiantly. "He deserves it. If you heard some of the stuff he says…I mean, he is constantly insulting Dumbledore. He's called Hermione a Mudblood about a million times, and the stuff he's done to Hagrid…it's just disgusting."

Minerva shook her head. "Hagrid has always been mistreated. It was the same when I was in school."

"You went to school with him?" Harry asked incredulously. "But that would make you at least…like eighty."

Minerva laughed. "Actually, I am sixty-five. How old did you think I was?

"I always assumed you were around the same age as Sirius, Lupin, and Snape," he said sheepishly.

"Well, I'm flattered. But I gather you do not know how aging is different in the magical world." Harry just looked confused, so she elaborated. "The more powerful one is, the longer one can live. Professor Dumbledore is one hundred eighty-two."

Harry shook his head. "Wow…that's weird. So are you more or less powerful than Dumbledore?"

Minerva gave a small smile. "He would say more. I would say less." She shook the visions of him out of her head. "I should explain- I went to Hogwarts for the school year of '45-'46, so I never actually had classes with Hagrid. He was, of course, expelled."

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it. "Professor, I have a kind of personal question to ask you. You don't have to answer. But…did you know Tom Riddle?"

She looked very troubled by this question. "I did, Harry. Or I thought I did. We were in Auror training together. But…everything changed."

"I didn't know you were an Auror."

"Not for long. I wanted to teach and be back with Al-…back at Hogwarts." She paused for a moment. "Your 'Dumbledore's Army' seemed to be much like Auror training."

"I wish," said Harry with a grin. "By the way, Professor…thank you. For what you did in Dumbledore's office, for saving Marietta and me. And for staying to run the school, even though you wanted to go help Dumbledore. It seems like you would do anything he wanted you to."

Minerva reached for the ring on the chain again. "Yes, I would," she said quietly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the sunrise. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Minerva looked at the ring in her hand and nodded silently, a tear rolling down her face.

Suddenly, they heard the front door opening with its many clicks and thuds. Someone stepped inside and the door shut. Harry and Minerva sat perfectly still, listening. The footsteps drew closer to the room they were in. Minerva stood up, ready to face whoever it was.

Even Harry could tell by the silhouette against the rising sun the identity of the person.

"Albus," Minerva whispered weakly.

"Minerva." He quickly walked the length of the room and seized her in his arms. "Minerva," he said tenderly as he held her to him, swaying gently.

Harry sat, mesmerized by the scene in front of him. So it had been like this the entire time he had known them, and he had never suspected it. It suddenly dawned on him that Professor McGonagall was stunningly beautiful, and never more so than just hen, her arms wrapped around Dumbledore.

"Albus," Minerva said, looking up at him. He kissed the tears away from her face.

"I'm back for you, my love. I promised I would be." He kissed her lips passionately. "I love you, beautiful. I have missed you so much."

"I love you, too."

Thanks for the reviews, guys! In case you're interested, and because I feel like openly promoting two of my other stories, Dark Magic (R, Albus D. and Minerva M.) and The Path that Leads to You (R, Albus D. and Minerva M.) (though they are not too R-rated…just some not too graphic violence) are part of this same story. They are about Minerva's younger years, and I would love your feedback on anything! Thanks, you guys rock!