Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all its lovely characters are not mine.

Main Characters: Steve Rogers, Minerva McGonagall

Pairing: None

Genre: Action

Rating: T

Familiar

In that instant, as pained shouting pierced the cold air and the ground rumbled from nearby explosions, everything became clearer. It wasn't a moment of epiphany, although with one's mortality so threatened during the battle, a moment of introspection wouldn't have been unforgivable.

No – as Minerva McGonagall peered over the rims of her spectacles, her vision became sharper. Too sharp, and for a second, she questioned if, with her magic blazing intensely while she fought, she hadn't accidentally transfigured her eyes into a predator's. She curled her fingers into her palms, power surging through her muscles beyond what could be explained by adrenalin. It was a familiar feeling, but one that she hadn't felt since –

She saw the wall of the castle collapse before the blast hit her eardrums. Beyond what was once solid stone – now blown into chunks of dangerous projectiles – bodies flew from the force of impact. Students, she realized as fear gripped her chest. Weasley boys. Miss Granger. Potter.

Minerva started running over to them before they even hit the ground. She had been headed in Potter's direction, intent on ensuring that the boy – their Savior – would be all right when she spied a large section of the wall about to fall on a red-headed figure. Her feet veered off course, and she caught the heavy slab as the boy landed at her feet, right where the wall would have dropped.

"Prof – Professor?" said Fred Weasley, his eyes wide as he stared up at her from the ground. She heaved the block of stone away. Fred propped his upper body up on his elbows, his brown eyes twinkling and a bright grin forming on his dust-covered face. "My hero."

"Do be more careful, Mister Weasley," she said. Ron and Percy joined them, the elder helping his fallen brother to his feet.

Harry Potter reached them moments later, his hands clasped in Hermione's as they both tottered over the debris. They had scratches on their skin – Potter sported a gash on his cheek, actively bleeding. She was about to raise her wand to spell a quick Episkey, but the strength she felt lingering in her limbs told her that her magic had not yet returned.

"All right, Mister Potter?" she asked, instead.

He nodded once, the knot of muscles under each ear briefly convulsing. For the millionth time, her heart twisted in pity at his circumstances. Her long-buried maternal instinct urged her to wrap the orphan boy in her arms and take him away from all this danger.

It wasn't what he needed, though. Not right now, not when his friends and classmates were all over the grounds, trying – struggling, injured, dying, but still trying – to thin out the mass of Death Eaters that swarmed the castle.

She placed a firm hand on his shoulder and met his eyes squarely. "Let's not stand around all night, then."

ooOOoo

Deep inside an Arctic glacier, where the ice laid untouched by the outside world – and further, further down – Steve Rogers opened his eyes.

At least, he thought he did. He blinked to make sure, the effort to close and lift his eyelids already depleting his low energy. Yes, his eyes were open; he was just surrounded by absolute darkness.

He felt weaker than he had ever been his entire life. Although, something was different – yet strangely familiar, a sensation he hadn't felt since youth. It was a tingling beneath the surface of his skin, a tickle and hum of electricity that ran over his entire body.

Magic.

Before he could remember how to harness it, the sensation drained away, as if someone flipped a switch. Without the magic, he was being dragged back into the depths of unconsciousness.

"No," he whispered before succumbing to sleep.

He couldn't have known that would be the last word he would say for several more years in the ice.

ooOOoo

"Are you all right, Minerva?"

Her eyes flicked up to Hermione, who gazed at her with concern.

"Oh – yes, Professor Granger." She leaned on the back of her leather chair and pressed her palms on the surface of the desk, fanning her fingers out.

It was happening again. She felt the magic leave her body, replaced by the surge of vigor in every muscle fiber. It started a few months ago, the occurrences increasing in frequency over the last week.

It could only mean one thing, but she didn't want to get her hopes up.

"Are you sure?" Hermione prodded. She leaned forward in her seat and placed her teacup on the desk. "You look out of sorts."

Minerva nodded. "I've just been feeling a bit –"

"Excuse me, Headmistress." Amrose Swott interrupted from his canvas. "I've just come from visiting the portraits in the entrance hall. There seems to be…an intruder in the castle."

"An intruder?" Hermione asked, looking perplexed. "How is that possible? Our magic is keyed in to the wards. If they don't recognize a person's magical signature, they wouldn't be able to gain access to the grounds."

Minerva turned to the oil-painted man. "Will you please access the wards? Can it identify who is down in the entrance hall?"

For a brief pause, Swott angled his head, as if to listen to a far-off noise. "Strange." His wrinkles became more prominent as confusion came over his face. "According to the wards, the person downstairs is you, Headmistress."

She gasped, her hand involuntarily flying up to cover her mouth. Quick footsteps approached her side.

"Merlin, you're as pale as a ghost," Hermione murmured. "That's it, I'm taking you to Madame Pomfrey — I'll send for Filius to check the entrance hall –"

"No!" She jumped up and sped out of her office. Hermione followed close behind.

"What's going on?! Minerva – Headmistress – "

They reached the top landing of the grand staircase, looking down at the hall that housed the giant, ornate front doors. Among the shadows of the pillars, a tall figure stood.

Minerva ran down as the man stepped into the light. Sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes, just like his father but, his smile – that he inherited from his mother. The sight of it, after all these years, made her heart wrench with sorrow and joy at the same time.

It was a McGonagall's smile. It illuminated his face as he greeted her.

"Hi, Grandma."

A/N: Thanks for reading! This was written for the Roll-A-Drabble Challenge (May 2018), hosted by Marvelously Magical Fanfiction.

Prompt: Steve & Minerva, Superpower/Magic Swap

Want me to expand this story? Let me know in a review!