Takes place toward the end of Voldemort's initial reign, which was 1970-1981. Dumbledore is the Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts, and McGonagall is an Auror. She graduated from Hogwarts in 1954, so she'd be in her early 40s.
() () () () ()
Minerva glanced behind her as she hurried through the crowded train station. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed, and the tiny trinket she gripped tightly inside her coat pocket was the reason why.
Working as an Auror during these dark times, she had adjusted to the ever-present feeling of sorrow. The Daily Prophet brought news of death each time she picked it up, and the fear of her mother or brothers disappearing had settled upon her heart permanently.
Currently, her pocket contained the charmed journals of Gellert Grindelwald, which held dark knowledge and would be most dangerous if Lord Voldemort's followers discovered them. Minerva's job was to see that they didn't. The shrunken object felt smooth on her fingertips, and she caught herself on more than one occasion wondering exactly what information they held.
She was hurrying to catch another of many trains she would ride today. Her final destination was Hogwarts, where the journals would be stored permanently, protected by numerous spells and enchantments. Minerva shivered as she thought of the sheer power inside Hogwarts. Her time there as a student had been most enjoyable; success at Quidditch, being chosen as Head Girl in her final year, and receiving the highest score ever on a Transfiguration final, had each made the sleepless nights and absence of a social life less painful. She had jumped at the opportunity to revisit the castle for a night.
Glancing behind her one last time, she stepped onto the train car, relinquished her ticket, and found an empty compartment. She placed her small suitcase on the luggage rack, sat down, and released a huge breath she hadn't purposefully held. What a long day it had been, and it would be two more train stations before she reached the school.
Minerva reached into her pocket as she had done hundreds of times already. She ensured the tiny box was still there, then sighed and glanced down at the muggle clothes she had donned. Instead of her usual emerald robes, she was dressed in a knee-length black dress and an emerald "pea coat," as the saleswoman had called it. Minerva could not figure out why it was thusly named, as peas were considerably lighter in color than the jacket was.
Just then, the door opened and an older man entered the car, sitting down beside her. She thought it suspicious and a bit rude that he did not ask whether the seat was taken, but instead of unleashing her frustration upon him, she simply slid over to the window and leaned back in her seat.
The man seemed about as interested in her as she was in him, so they passed the whole train ride in complete silence. This was her shortest leg, so in a few hours they rolled into another station and the passengers unloaded.
Minerva once again crossed through the station and found her next train. She concluded it was wise of the Ministry to choose her for this assignment, as she had grown up riding trains every day. To someone less familiar with the setup, the tight connections and crowded stations might be problematic.
As she boarded the new train, she noticed the same man who had shared her last seat! He was facing away from her, so she still had not seen his face, but his royal blue suit was unmistakable. Minerva felt her heart grow chilly with fear, but she simply spun on her heels and walked a few cars up, to an empty compartment.
As she wondered why there were never locks on the compartment doors, the mysterious man in the blue suit appeared, opened the sliding door and spun quickly, closing it behind him. He once again sat down next to her, and she once again pulled herself toward the window, this time with her heart beating loudly in her ears. Who was this man, and what was he trying to do? No matter what, she would not relinquish the package in her pocket. She would die before telling him of its existence. She pictured her mother's face clearly in her mind and breathed in quickly, feeling her face heat up as she thought of never seeing her again. Just as she was beginning to review defensive spells in her head, the man spoke.
"Please stop. I am not here to hurt you."
"Then what are you here to do?" she asked, more shrilly than she had intended.
"Ensure your safe arrival at the school." His voice was calm and quiet. It also sounded vaguely familiar.
"What school? I am on my way to visit friends."
"You finding time for friendship amidst all your research would be scientifically impossible."
At this, she whipped around and glared at him. "And how could you possibly know me so well?"
He smiled and turned toward her. "I'm just one of your many admirers, my dear."
Finally seeing his face, Minerva's frown transformed into the widest smile she had given in weeks. She positively beamed at him.
"What the devil, Alb-" she began, but his look made her go silent.
"Not here, my dear. I was asked to shadow you until we reach the school. There is nothing I would rather do than settle down in front of a fire to discuss transfiguration, scientific laws, and the wizard's chess finals, but it will have to wait until tonight, at the very least. Until then, we must be total strangers."
This would prove difficult, since conversation between the two had come as easily as flying for a hippogryff. It began at a doomed quidditch match a few years back. They had attended with friends who promptly abandoned them in their seats. Since then, they remained in touch through the occasional letter and the occasional meeting at a ministry gathering or lecture. Each time proved more interesting than the last.
() () () () ()
"Isn't the countryside beautiful at sunset?"
Minerva turned to Albus to answer his question, before realizing he was leaning back in his seat, eyes closed. His question had been asked without words. While legilimency was not one of her strengths, particularly without eye contact, she had mastered the crude basics which were included in Auror training.
"It is beautiful at all times, but, yes, most assuredly at sunset."
"You have improved at legilimency since we last met."
"I had to, Albus. The Ministry cited it as one of my weaknesses."
"I find it hard to believe they found any other weakness in you, my dear. How are you enjoying your new department?"
"It is much more challenging, and therefore infinitely more enjoyable."
"Did you have trouble with the quick turnaround? I am not aware of any other witch or wizard who has completed the grueling training in a mere six months!"
"The way I see it, there was no choice. Our current situation called for it. I can help more people in my new capacity."
"You are a shining beacon of light in the present circumstances, Minerva. I was thrilled when the Minister requested I shadow you today."
"Rubbish. You were just relieved to escape the castle!"
"On the contrary, Minerva. I have been called away much more often than I would like, due to Lord Voldemort's recent actions. I can assure you, the reason for my happiness today is none other than you."
She snorted. "And here you have everyone fooled into believing you aren't a womanizer. You could flirt the pants off of a goat!"
A grin appeared on the "sleeping" man's face.
"Minerva. I would never purposefully attempt to unclothe a goat. In fact, I much prefer when Aberforth has each of them fully dressed. In tuxedos."
Now it was Minerva's turn to grin. At that moment, the train began to slow as it approached the station. She was glad to see the familiar shops and taverns of Hogsmeade, although the air seemed a bit darker since her last visit. That, of course, had been before Voldemort came to power. Before his followers made fear an everyday occurrence, with each knock on the door or footstep in the dirt.
The train jolted to a complete stop. Other passengers emerged from their compartments and lugged their suitcases toward the exit, and Albus and Minerva did the same.
He stepped down from the train and turned around to offer his hand. She smiled at his chivalry, took his hand and stepped down after him. Their hands remained intertwined for a few seconds longer than necessary, but slowly pulled apart as each set off toward the road. The castle gates were a long walk up a winding hill. Each year, the students made this journey by boat or thestral-drawn carriage, but as it was winter holiday, Minerva suspected neither would be waiting for them.
She was partly right.
() () () () ()
What was waiting for them gave Minerva goosebumps. It was a large animal, about the size of a horse, with two short legs and an enormous beak. Casting an alarmed glance over at her partner, she noticed he was smiling at the beast.
"Imelda! How kind of you to meet us!" he called to the hairy thing, which cocked its head in their direction and gave a sort of nod.
As they arrived at the animal, Albus turned to Minerva and held out his hand. "After you, my dear."
Her shocked expression must have made it clear that she did not understand.
"Are you unfond of glepsies?" he asked, confusedly.
"Albus, I have no idea what this thing is or what you want me to do, but it smells terrible."
His eyes twinkled as he gave her a smile. "Think not of Imelda's hygiene, but of the fact that we will reach the castle much more quickly than it would take my old legs to walk."
She sighed and resigned herself to this fate. Taking his hand, she stepped up from Imelda's bent knee to swing herself onto the animal's back. Albus climbed in front of her, asked "Are we ready?" and the beast set off before Minerva could protest.
He was right about them reaching the castle quickly. In no less than five minutes, they landed at the large steel gates of the school. The journey had felt like a few unsteady hops to Minerva, and she made a mental note to never travel by glepsy again.
"We must hurry, my dear," Albus prodded. She realized he had disembarked and was waiting for her to slide off the beast's back. She quickly swung her leg over and hopped down, landing next to him. After he murmured a complex spell, the gates opened and they entered.
Reaching the castle, Albus waved his wand in what Minerva thought to be a starlike pattern. The huge wooden doors creaked and opened outward to them. They crossed the stone entryway and followed the hallway which led to the dungeons.
Minerva sniffed the air and smiled at the familiar smell of books, ancient stone, and damp earth. She imagined Hogwarts would always be a safe place. The years she had spent there were challenging, but she had enjoyed friendships among all four houses, which was a feat in itself. The bonds continued after graduation, especially with her friend Pomona Sprout, who had recently joined the staff of Hogwarts. Minerva hoped her next visit to the school would be for a more pleasurable reason than the delivery of dangerous property for safekeeping, because she longed to catch up with Professor Sprout.
Albus led the way down another corridor. The torches provided the only light as they descended a stone staircase. As a student, Minerva had ventured this far only once, and she forever regretted it. At that time, the inner dungeon was being used for a Mackled Malaclaw sanctuary, and one had bitten her. Consequently, she had been unlucky for the following week, which was—unfortunately—examination week. None of her professors understood how she scored perfect marks on each homework assignment, essay, quiz, and special project, yet failed every exam. Luckily, her high marks in all other areas—and the kindness of a few professors—prevented the flub from ruining her record.
Caught up in her reverie, she hadn't noticed the wizard in front of her stopping at a doorway. Minerva walked right into Albus' back.
"Oof!" She backed away and cupped her nose with both hands. A dull pain stung her nose and chin, and he spun around quickly.
"Are you alright?" Albus appeared concerned, and reached up to remove her hands from her face. Leaning in to inspect her, his face hovered mere inches from hers. With his eyes, he traced the curve of her nose, then inspected her cheekbones and finally gave a small smile.
"It appears nothing is broken. Lucky for you, because you might end up with a face like this!" he said, motioning to his own famously crooked nose.
"That would indeed be frightening. I shall be more careful in the future."
They had halted in front of a stone entryway which opened to an extremely narrow passage. The darkness seemed tangible, and Minerva purposefully refrained from shivering. Albus whispered a few spells, and the air seemed to glitter for a moment.
"After you, my dear." Albus lit his wand, and she did the same. She entered the passageway and continued forward about fifty steps, until it curved sharply to the right. The pair followed in the pitch black for what seemed like hours, until reaching a small round room. In the middle of the floor sat a stone box.
Albus swish-and-flicked, and the lid slowly levitated about a foot in the air. It hung there, immobile.
"Minerva, would you place the journals inside?"
She, in reply, scooped the small package from her coat pocket and approached the box. When she reached the edge and stooped to place the parcel inside, she became aware of a gnawing sensation in her stomach. Mentally tracing the last few hours, she realized she hadn't eaten lunch or dinner—but this gnawing quickly became a searing pain, and it had nothing to do with hunger.
The last thing she remembered was being flung back against the wall, and then everything went black.
() () () () ()
When Minerva awoke, she was greeted by the view of an ornate stone ceiling, with beautifully carved trees branching out from each corner of the room. She could detect the faint smell of tea and also the stronger smell of musty books. Both smells were pleasant and comforting, which is why she wasted no time in sitting up.
Immediately, she felt a deep pain in her stomach, reminding her of the events leading up to her blackout. She immediately fell back into a laying position with a grimace on her face.
"Ah!" Albus' cheerful voice called from another part of the room, and in a few short seconds she saw him come into focus and sit down next to her, on a chair matching the settee she occupied. He made a perplexed face, stood up quickly and removed three books from underneath his rear, then sat back down while placing the books gingerly on the floor.
"Madam Pomfrey has come and gone. She insisted that you would recover soon."
"What in the name of Merlin happened down there?" she asked incredulously.
Albus looked slightly sheepish as he responded, "Just as you reached into the urn, one of the guarding jinxes struck you. You see, my dear, I have had help installing protection for these documents. Many different witches and wizards have been preparing that particular room for weeks now, and evidently one of the jinxes was designed to expel any person who desired to read Grindelwald's writings. I was unaware of this spell. But I must say, had I known of it, I still would not have thought it necessary to inform you. I had no idea you were curious about the journals."
It was Minerva's turn to look sheepish. She felt like a child who had been caught in a lie.
"I must confess, I have been mildly interested in the contents ever since I learned of their existence. To think what madness is held inside such a normal-looking collection…" she pondered, still staring up at the ceiling.
"Please do not dwell on it, my dear. I can assure you, they contain nothing which could improve your fascinating mind."
"I assume, based on your tone, that you have read them yourself."
"Unfortunately, Minerva, I was present when many of them were written."
She squinted over at him, not comprehending.
Prodded by her perplexed expression, Albus replied, "Gellert Grindelwald and I were partners in his mission for a short while."
At this, her mouth and eyes opened wide. This was unexpected. This man in whom she trusted, to whom she attributed only good and wholesome things, had once partnered with the most twisted dark wizard of their age? Grindelwald was responsible for destroying the dreams and aspirations of an entire generation. He and his followers murdered hundreds of witches, wizards, muggles, and magical creatures, merely to advance their demented belief in pureblood dominance. And Albus Dumbledore, the champion of love and goodwill and peace among all, had just admitted his involvement in Grindelwald's insanity?
Minerva craned her neck to look over at Albus. He still sat in the patterned chair, but he stared at the fire, his eyes emptier than they had been before.
"Albus? Are you alright?"
His eyes trailed from the fireplace to her. "My apologies. I dwell on the past, Minerva. If you do not wish to remain in my presence any longer, there is floo powder right above the fireplace."
She gave him a weak smile. "I don't believe that will be necessary. Someday, though, I think I would appreciate hearing the story from your point of view, if you are comfortable sharing it with me."
He nodded. "Someday, I will be."
() () () () ()
One of her coworkers had described to Minerva the dusty lodgings he occupied while doing business at Hogwarts, but the rooms to which Albus led her were vastly different. After he muttered "Falafel!" the portrait swung in and they stepped inside.
He lit each of the wall torches with a wave of his wand, and Minerva breathed in. They were standing in a large room with a sitting area immediately before them, a canopy bed and wardrobe in the left corner, a small table in the back, and bookshelves lining the right wall. The windows were draped with Gryffindor red and gold, and the carpets and pillows matched them.
"I think this will suit you," he said, and turned to leave, "and I expect to see you in the Great Hall for a most delicious breakfast."
"Thank you, Albus. I am looking forward to it."
With that, he stepped out of the portrait hole, turned around to give her a wink, and was off.
Minerva set her purse on the table and crossed to the desk. She absentmindedly scanned the books on the wall and noticed a great deal of them were about Transfiguration. She sat down at the desk and scratched a note onto the provided parchment.
Pomona-
Are you at Hogwarts for the holidays? I am here on business but will probably leave sometime tomorrow- I'd like to see you if possible. Hoping you are well.
-Minerva
She scribbled "Pomona Sprout; Hogwarts" on the envelope and sealed it, then buttoned her coat and headed out the portrait hole. It was a rather long walk to the Owlery, and it was pure madness to walk so far only to send an owl right back to the castle, but Minerva had no idea where her friend's living quarters were. The walk would give her plenty of time to mull over this new information about Albus' past.
By the time she returned, it was well after midnight. Minerva slipped off her coat and dress and crawled into the deliriously soft blankets on her bed. Her current living quarters, in a small London flat, paled in comparison to the elegance of Hogwarts.
Actually, my flat pales in comparison to most places, she told herself with a grin, and it was this thought which carried her off to sleep.
It was remarkable that Minerva did not run into Albus in the castle hallways on her way to or from the Owlery, because he was pacing them well after she returned and went to sleep. His heart was heavier than usual, filled with thoughts from many years ago. His mistaken belief in a madman's ideals, and his twisted hunger for power. Dumbledore hoped that his life's work since that fateful summer in Godric's Hollow had begun to repair the damage he inflicted, but he was not certain anything could. It was this thought which carried him off to sleep.
() () () () ()
The next morning dawned cloudy and cold, but this did nothing to dampen Minerva's mood. She was awakened by a tap on her window, and she hurriedly let the tawny owl in and retrieved the letter from his leg.
Min-
I'm spending the holidays here! I hope to see you at breakfast, and we can take a walk and catch up afterward!
-Mona
Minerva smiled at the forgotten nicknames, gave the owl a generous petting before releasing him, and made her bed. She donned her normal robes, tied her hair into a low bun, and made her way to the Great Hall in a hurry.
"Min!"
She heard, before she saw, her friend yell as she descended the stairs. In seconds, Pomona Sprout had pounced on Minerva, wrapping her arms around the taller woman in a tight hug.
"Min, it is so good to see you! You don't know how lonely it's been!"
Minerva smiled at her friend, realizing it had been almost a year since they had spent time together. Due to Minerva's rigorous training at the Ministry and Professor Sprout's never-ending duties as a new staff member at Hogwarts, they had communicated only by letters.
"Pomona, I will do better in the future. I've missed you very much."
The ladies began to discuss family members and friends they shared, as they entered the Great Hall and made their way up to the high table.
Breakfast was blissful and calm. Minerva immensely enjoyed the easy conversation with her friend, and Professor Dumbledore's appearance halfway through was the cherry on top. She marveled at how he seemed to fit perfectly into the conversation, yet remained respectful of the ladies' time together. He interjected when appropriate, and his additions were welcome, interesting, and humorous.
At one point, Pomona glanced from Albus to Minerva, raised her eyebrows, and mouthed "We'll talk later" to her friend. Minerva raised an eyebrow.
After their leftovers and dishes vanished, the group began to split off in various directions. Pomona led Minerva out the front doors of the school, and they followed the stone pathway toward the greenhouses.
"Min, you've got to tell me what is going on with you and Professor Dumbledore."
"What do you mean?"
"You know bloody well what I mean! I've never seen him so interested in a conversation, much less a conversation about my second cousin who he doesn't know! Is he in love with you?"
At this, Minerva scoffed. "Of course not! Why would you say that?"
Professor Sprout rolled her eyes. "Are you telling me the top-of-her-class Head Girl, Transfiguration genius, top-ranking Auror, Quidditch star, Animagus in front of me doesn't know what love looks like? The man couldn't stop staring at you! He picked up your napkin when you dropped it! He pulled your chair out for you!"
Minerva shook her head and couldn't help but smile at her friend's assumptions.
"Mona, don't be ridiculous. He is a gentleman. He is my friend. He is a genuinely kind person, not some schoolboy with a crush. Now, can we talk about something else please?"
It was more of a demand than a request, so the Herbology professor relented. Sometimes, smart people just couldn't see past the ends of their noses.
() () () () ()
By the time they returned to the castle, lunch was being served. Minerva wondered if it would be rude to inquire about staying in the castle for another night. It was, after all, the weekend, and she did not need to be back in London until Monday morning.
As fate would have it (or is Pomona putting a plan into motion?, Minerva wondered), Albus ended up next to her again at lunch. While spreading butter onto a roll, she leaned over to him and whispered, "Albus, who do I need to ask about staying here again tonight? I would love to spend a little more time with Professor Sprout, and fit in a visit to the library as well, but I understand if my room is needed for another purpose."
He smiled and responded, "I took the liberty of setting up that room for you, and made sure it was available all weekend, should you need it."
She stared back at him, impressed by his thoughtfulness, and reminded herself to close her mouth.
() () () () ()
After a relaxed lunch and a tour of the castle with Pomona—and so many memories discussed, in their old haunts—Minerva decided to visit the library. The Herbology professor huffed, announced that she still avoided that part of the castle unless she was required to do extra research. She said she would spend the afternoon in the greenhouses tending to her shrivelfig, but would be available once Minerva had satisfied her need to reminisce.
And, reminisce she did! Minerva must have spent four hours buried in stacks of books before she was interrupted. She had stacked some large volumes around the edge of the desk she was using, and was brought back to reality when someone cleared their throat a few feet away. Marking her spot with her index finger so she wouldn't lose her place, she sat up taller in her seat to peek over the book stacks.
Albus was leaning against the neighboring desk, holding a large book in his hand and appearing quite relaxed. She took a moment to wonder how long he'd been observing her.
"Oh, it's you! I apologize; is it time for dinner already?" She suddenly felt like a student caught in the Forbidden Forest, and wondered if she was brazen to make herself so comfortable in the library. He shook his head.
"No! No, dinner will be served in another hour. I came looking for you. I wanted to give you this," he said, and presented the book he'd been holding.
Silently but with wide eyes, Minerva accepted the volume into her hands and set it on the desk before her. A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, by Emeric Switch. The textbook used by every first year Transfiguration student at Hogwarts. She looked up at him, confused.
"Open it, my dear," he requested with a small smile. She did as he asked, and immediately drew in a breath of air. She swallowed. There, written carefully in a young girl's cursive, "This book belongs to Minerva McGonagall. Anyone attempting to pilfer it will soon regret their mistake."
She ran her hand over the words and looked at him again with the beginnings of tears forming in her eyes. It had been almost forty years since she had seen this textbook, but it would always bring back fond memories—her initial discovery, after living in a house where magic had to be hidden, of Transfiguration; her natural ability and the pride which accompanied it; her failures and successes, all guided by the book's gentle instruction. He could not possibly know what this gift meant to her.
"I found it in the 'used' section at Flourish & Blotts a few summers ago. I figured it would become very valuable, the first textbook ever used by the greatest witch of the age."
She swallowed, her throat feeling smaller and more constricted as a few tears spilled over her cheeks.
"I wanted to keep it, but my family needed the money very badly," she explained as she wiped the tears away and took a steadying breath. She pushed her chair back and stood, turning to him.
"Albus, this… this is the nicest gift I think I've ever been given. Thank you so much."
And though Minerva was never one for physical displays of affection, she found herself wanting to throw her arms around him in appreciation. She decided on a handshake, and extended her right hand as an offering, which he took. And if she found the feeling of his hand in hers to be warm and comfortable, she would not have admitted it to anyone, least of all Pomona Sprout.
() () () () ()
After dinner that evening, Minerva accompanied Pomona to her rooms for tea. The ladies sat in two comfortable armchairs in front of the fireplace and discussed the ways in which Hogwarts had changed. Oddly enough, Minerva found herself focusing on the ways it had remained the same.
It was getting late when Pomona's fire suddenly changed appearance and a face appeared in the coals. Minerva gasped.
"Alastor!" she called, recognizing her coworker. He looked more frantic than usual.
"Come to the Ministry immediately," he snapped, then his face was gone. Minerva hopped up from the chair, apologized to Pomona for having to duck out, and grabbed a handful of floo powder. As she had so many times before, she took a steadying breath, reminded herself there was a war going on and she must be prepared for anything at her destination, and stepped into the fire.