Disclaimer: Apparently even Felix Felicis is unable to give me enough luck to own Harry Potter. That or the wizard I bought it off of is a dirty rotten liar. No matter the case, still don't own the series. How do we know? Well, if I did, we wouldn't need this fic.

A/N: There's a bit of a time jump here where we pick up back where we left off in chapter 1. We start basically from the last sentence and move straight on from there so it may be a good idea to give it another glance through. If you're lazy though I'm gonna include the last sentence.

With a disgruntled sigh he asked, "What do you know of the Feast of the Dead ritual?"

McGonagall looked at him sharply as several of the portraits around the room whispered back and forth. Dumbledore stood in his portrait and glared across the room at Phineas before looking at the Headmistress and telling her, "Minerva, you must not perform that ritual. It was banned many years ago because the cost for that kind of magic is too high. I understand your desire to help them but this is not the way. Ritual magic like this is dark magic, my dear."

Phineas barely let Dumbledore say his piece before interjecting, "That is nonsense! That ritual has been used by my family for generations before people like you, who paint all ritual magic as dark without even stopping to look at the specifics of the spell, interfered! She is-"

"Not to be trifled with and certainly not so while in this school," Dumbledore interrupted.

Feeling unsure but lost as to what other options there were, the Scottish witch turned to face Albus' portrait and, as firmly as she could, ordering him, "Let him finish explaining the ritual. We have no other possibilities at this time and I fear not long enough to find others. Wasn't it you who taught me that sacrifices must be made for the greater good? The mental health of these children is the greatest good we have right now." Then she turned to face Phineas and nodded at him to continue.

Phineas turned to look at Dumbledore with a smug look before looking back at the current Headmistress. "The feast of the dead ritual is an ancient Samhain pureblood ritual. We used it to seek wisdom from our ancestors and honor those who we had loved that had passed on. I believe this ritual to be exactly the solution you are looking for in this situation. However, this is no small magic to be undertaken lightly. You may find the cost too high for the gain. She is not to be trifled with lightly, Headmistress."

"Who exactly is this 'she' to which you and Albus have referred," she asked suspiciously. Minerva McGonagall was not some naive witch who would call upon some unknown entity for favors. She may be a Gryffindor, but she was far too experienced for that sort of foolishness.

"For this ritual you will need to call on The Morrigan. It must be done on Samhain when the veil is thin, and you must pay whatever price she asks of you for this to be done. Considering what you would ask of her, the price may indeed be more than you are willing to give her."

Hearing the name of The Phantom Queen, Goddess of War and Warriors, made McGonagall inhale sharply. Few would willingly draw her attention needlessly, much less dare to seek favors from her, especially ones of this magnitude. She would need her to not only bring back one or two people but to do so many times all in the same evening… She shuddered to think of what The Morrigan could possibly ask of her in return.

However, was there really such a thing as "too high" when there was so much on the line? Her cubs needed something to ease their burdens and had sacrificed so much at such a young age. Could she really deny them that when she had the ability to give it? The Morrigan was the goddess of warriors, realistically who better to help those who had earned the right to be called warriors many times over, even before reaching their majority. Decision made, she strode over to stand directly in front of the portrait of the late Phineas Nigellus Black.

"Where do I find information on casting this ritual?"

Part 2

Looking around at the room that the so called Come and Go Room had created for her, Minerva McGonagall nodded to herself as she set her supplies and the tome she had found in the library of Grimmauld Place on the table in the center of the room. There were only a few hours left to go before Samhain would officially begin and there was much to be done to set up the ritual so that there would be enough time for all the students to spend some time with their loved ones before the veil no longer allowed their spirits passage for the ritual. Phineas and the tome both made it clear that no amount of bargaining with The Morrigan would convince her to allow more time once Samhain ended.

The room of requirement was the obvious choice of places to have the ritual with such stringent time constraints. With Filius' help they had designed a spell that she could cast on the area in front of the door which would cause the person standing there to think of the person they most needed to see, the person or people that their very soul was crying out for. This would mean that the ritual need only be cast once, saving valuable time in the process and ensuring everyone got what they needed from the experience.

The Headmistress had already decided not to let any of the children know what was going to happen. She feared that the knowledge would overwhelm them and interfere with the healing she hoped so badly would occur here. She also knew that she must never let any of them know what ritual she used to make this possible. There was too much risk in them doing it on their own. She worried that, as young as they still were, they could not handle bargaining with The Morrigan herself. It wouldn't be easy to deny them, but she knew she must for the safety of everyone involved.

Gathering the quartz crystals, she walked around the room clockwise leaving one crystal at each of the four directional points of the room. When she reached her starting point she went back to the table to grab the three wreaths made of willow and blackthorn branches and placed one towards the South, one to the East, and, using a sticking charm, hung one over the door. Taking a deep breath, she moved back towards the table and picked up the yew branches and sprigs of mugwort. There was a burning pit in front of the table and she arranged the branches before lighting them with a whispered, "Incendio."

As the branches began to burn she stepped back to the table and quickly glanced through the book to be sure everything was as it should be. This was not a time for mistakes of any kind. There would only be one chance. Steeling herself for what was to come, she began to recite from the book.

"The veil grows thin at the time of the dead,

As we honor our ancestors,

In whose footsteps we tread.

As leaves fall thick and carpet the ground,

The Dark Mother waits in silence profound,

Seek the wisdom of days gone by,

To deal with the past and let it lie.

Face your shadow and accept your faults,

Look now to the future to seek your results."

Through the light smoke that was beginning to fill the room, Minerva began to see swirls of movement. Suppressing a shudder, she lifted her head and prepared to greet the goddess of war and death.

A voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once chuckled at her behavior. "It has been some time since one such as you have called upon me during Samhain. I know what it is you desire of me. The question is if you are willing to pay the price of such a request. This is no small favor you ask."

"What would you ask of me?"

"If I were to do this, I would have you for one of my own." A jolt ran through her body. She hadn't known what to expect going into this, but it certainly hadn't been that.

There was an obvious smirk in the tone as the voice of the goddess continued. "You are a brave warrior, but more than that you are the leader of a whole house of potential warriors for me. Your Gryffindors could suit my purposes nicely with guidance. Guidance you would provide for them on my behalf. Do not be mistaken, to be mine is no light burden you take on. I will require pain from you and from those you would guide to me, and you will bear that pain double knowing it was you who set them on the path."

"What pain would you require of them," McGonagall demanded, torn between her desire to help her current cubs and her need to protect those who would one day be hers as well.

"Worry not. The pain they suffer will be simply part of their journey to becoming the warriors I need. True members of your house will thank you in the end, regardless."

With her stomach feeling like it was full of lead, she swallowed a few times before straightening and saying as firmly as she could, "We have an agreement."

A/N: I just want to be clear, in case anyone has a strong desire to pull out the rotten tomatoes to throw at me, that McGonagall didn't choose this lightly. She takes her role very seriously and would never want to let her students come to harm. The problem is that she knows for a fact that these specific students are so desperately in need of this intervention that she's more flexible in worries of the distant future. She also knows that she'll be around to guide those students of the future, whereas some of these people (like George and Harry) are already beyond her help and in more immediate danger. So try not to judge her too harshly.