The Illusionist

Summary: "To the well organized mind death is but the next great adventure" – There are a few unanswered questions at the end of book 7. Why does McGonagall allow Snape to take over the school as headmaster without a fight? What happens to McGonagall after the final book? Rowling said that she was no longer headmistress in the epilogue…why?

A/N: This story is heavy on the mystery/adventure ala the Sorcer's Stone, or Chamber of Secrets. This story jumps around a lot. There are a lot of twists and turns, so buckle your seatbelt it's going to be a bumpy ride.

Chapter I – Summer of 1996 (after Dumbledore's death) - Innsbruck, Austria

It was just before dawn. The warm night air crackled with early morning heat. The dark night sky seemed lit from within, casting a hazy glow on the dark alley. The brownstones rose up from the cobblestone alleyway, bathing the alley in their shadows.

The air was still. The night, silent. A lone figure slowly skirted through the shadows, moving toward an unknown destination. Cloaked in darkness. Boots clicking against the cobblestones, long, dark, cape swishing against the floor. The figure stopped, pulling back its hood to reveal the face of a woman with short red hair and sharp angular features, freckles spread out over her pointy nose. She reached into her robes and pulled out a crumpled piece of white paper, using a ray of moonlight, the woman read the words on the paper, a cryptic message written in a loopy purple script, 'you'll know'. Two words, a map.

The woman thrust the piece of paper back inside her robes, slipping back into the shadows, and stealthily moving toward her destination. She walked, gliding slowly along, until she came to a row of houses. She stopped looking up at the brownstones, their balconies hovering just above her eye level. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she spoke, her breath breaking through the hot summer night's air, 'semper amemus.' Suddenly houses number 112 and 114 began to slowly break apart, another house appearing between them, pushing the other two houses out of the way, number 113.

The woman pushed up her hood, walked up the steps, and slowly slipped inside the darkened house. Walking along the hallway, the woman's heels clicked against the wood floors, carrying her through the house on expert feet. Suddenly, the woman was pulled back against a sold surface, a hand clasped over her mouth.

The woman pressed a hot, deep, heady kiss to the palm of the hand, slowly wrapping her lips around a long, thin, lightly calloused finger. The other inhabitant of the room moaned, his other arm wrapping around the woman's waist, pressing her back against his chest. She moaned deeply in response, spinning around, her short, red hair being replaced by long, wavy, ebony hair, her freckles disappearing and her features shifting instantaneously.

"Minerva" The man moaned, wrapping his arms around the woman, and capturing her lips in a heated kiss.

The woman smiled against his mouth, running her hands through the man's long, white hair. "I knew you were alive…"

He smiled against her lips, pulling her against him, his hands roving freely over her back, and groping lower, trying, desperately to raise her skirts. "I've missed you." He groaned.

She grinned, her hands raking over his back. "You have no idea." She moaned, kissing his neck.

He pressed her tightly up against the wall, breathing deeply as his head rolled back, her lips pressed hot against his neck. "I couldn't leave you. I could never leave you." He sighed, burying his face in her thick, dark hair. "I need you." He moaned, losing all ability to form coherent thoughts as her lips assaulted his ear.

She grinned, taking him by the hand, and pulling him toward the stairway.

"I know."