Carry my soul into the night, may the stars light my way

I glory in the sight, as darkness takes the day

Sing a song- a song of life -lived without regret

Tell the ones, the ones I loved

I never will forget

OZ-SPEED MY DEARIES!... wait.. wrong universe!

J.K. Rolling unfortunately owns Harry Potter... not me, though I do take credit for the OC's

Chapter 9 - Looking Forward

June 15th, 1938:

The young witch looked around her dormitory for the last time of the school year with a smile. Her green eyes flickered around, examining the area in sentiment, as she remembered the night Rolanda had saved Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup. A party rang through the Common Room, but soon after curfew Professor Dumbledore had insisted they all get some sleep, the four friends continued their celebration in their dormitory. Pomona had tutored them all with Herbology for the three just as much as Minerva had done with them all in almost every subject, and had official earned a place with them.

"You coming, Minerva?"

The witch turned her head around, her tail of hair gently whipping her face. "Oh alright, Poppy, let's go."

"Good, cause Rolanda's already bubbling with excitement, and Merlin help us all if she's like that the entire ride!"

The two laughed, making their way down to the Common Room, sure enough, their hawk-eyed sister was nearly bouncing off the walls again, giggling with an outburst of nonsense. Augusta sat on the couch with a hand on her cheek, looking rather amused. "Is she like this every time she gets excited?"

Minerva and Poppy laughed as if it was an inside joke.

"Believe me, Augusta, this is tolerable compared to what it could be."

"And besides," the dark haired witch said while digging through her handbag, she pulled out a few candied ovals, "we've come up with a few methods to keep us all sane."

The hawk-eyed girl dashed to Minerva's side so quickly, it might have been mistaken for Apparating. Her hands, wiggling to catch their prey, dove for the candies, but Minerva tightly closed her hand before she could swipe them.

"Calm yourself till we get to the train and you can have one."

Rolanda's eyes narrowed as she pursed her lips in disappointment, as if she'd just been cheated, then mumbled an agreement.

Augusta clicked her tongue. "Minerva, have I ever mentioned that you're the cleverest witch I've ever known?"

The dark haired girl shrugged with a smile. "Oh, once or twice."

"Ladies, I hate to interrupt," Poppy said with a grin, "but we promised to meet Pomona in the Great Hall and if we don't leave now, she'll start to wonder what insanity Rola drove us to."

Rolanda blew a bunch of raspberries at her for that.

September 1st, 1938:

Minerva spent most of her summer either reading, chasing the snitch Rolanda had given her for Christmas last year and playing with her brothers and sisters. All these activities had one thing in common, she was at Aquae Lament. If there was ever a moment she could be out of the Manor, or away from her mother, in-particular, she was gone.

Needless to say, when she returned to Hogwarts for her second year, Minerva was beyond prepared. Mico himself was ready to be away from Caluim, never liking the Manor in the first place. She meet up with her sisters, Augusta and Pomona at the platform and they call grabbed a compartment together, spending the entire train ride sharing stories of their summer adventures. It took her a moment to realize that they weren't going to take the boats this year, instead they were directed to the carriages while the first years went on the boats. Seeing the castle again after being cooped up all summer made her feel like she was finally coming home again after a long journey.

"There's no place like home," she heard Pomona breath quietly. Minerva couldn't agree more. No longer did the Manor welcome her like it used to, more like a prison than anything, but Hogwarts filled the gap with perfect ease and she embraced it.

Professor Merrythought briefly greeted all returning students piled into the Great Hall, then ordered them to sit down in their House table. With this, they said their goodbyes to Pomona, then headed over to the Gryffindor table, sitting near the front in order to see the Sorting Ceremony. They didn't have to wait long for the grand double doors to open. Professor Dumbledore entered, conducting his usual routine, with nearly two hundred first years trailing behind him. Instantly, several sixth and seventh years- including Algie Louise, the new Head Boy -began whispering and cooing about how adorable they were with their round faces, about them getting shorter each year. There was one boy in particular however, that caught Minerva's emerald green eyes. He was slightly taller than the rest of his year, smooth jet-black hair, pale skin, but what caught her attention what his eyes. They were dark, nearly black, and cold, as if he'd never been joyful, nor been touched with affection. He glared up at the man who lead him with a concealed hatred and raw desire- though what he desired she didn't understand, not yet anyway.

The boy had to wait nearly forty minutes before his name was called.

"Riddle, Tom."

The hat barely touched a hair on the boy's head before shouting, "Slytherin!"

The boy showed no emotion, no smile towards his new peers nor any appreciation towards his own House. Nothing at all, as if he was cocooned in his own mind and willed all emotions to be shut from his soul, but Minerva could see through him like a cat stalking prey at night; he held an extremely small skip in his step while walking over to take his seat and seemed to absorb the energy around him, causing his fellow Housemates to draw near, almost in instinctual awe. It was at that moment Minerva knew this Riddle boy was very strange, manipulative, but most of all, dangerous beyond her imagination.

September 5th, 1938:

"MINERVA!" Rolanda's holler echoed throughout the tower as she ran up the stairs for their dormitory. "MINERVA MARGARET McGONAGALL, YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS!"

The dark haired witch rolled her eyes with a smirk as she closed her book, preparing for the inevitable collision form a very ecstatic, hyper sister.

"Oh no, Min, here's your chance to fly out the window and escape. I have a dreadful feeling she's at level ten," Poppy said with a groan, enticing Minerva's curiosity to check their connection. Sure enough, Rolanda's thoughts were spinning a mile a minute and sounding like a humming bird.

The dark haired witch nearly broke down into laughter. "I think we need a whole new level to classify this one, Poppy!"

"Merlin help us all," the rust-colored hair girl threw a pillow on top of her head, covering her ears. "She'll burn the tower down!"

As the footsteps drew closer they also became increasingly louder before the door flew open. The intruder didn't stop her rampage, with her arms stretched out wide as she could get them, aiming directly at the target.

"MINERVA, MINERVA, MINERVA!" She nearly threw both of them off the bed as she tackled the dark haired witch.

"Rola, if you get any more excited, Professor Dumbledore's going to come in here and ask who in Merlin's name is yelling their head off like a maniac! Now, calm down and tell us what-"

"It's open! It's vacant! The Seeker position! Gryffindor needs a new Seeker, tryouts are next week, and there's no one who else in Gryffindor who could be half as good as you are! Oh, please-oh-please-oh-please, sign up! Say you will?"

"If Min says 'yes', will you calm down?" Poppy asked with a slight devilish grin.

"YES!"

"Then she'll do it, won't you, Min?" she threw her sister a death glare. Agree to it, Minerva McGonagall, or so help me, you'll be my new test subject instead of Rola for healing spells!

The dark haired witch simply refused to be used as magical experimentation.

September 12th, 1938:

The sad, but rather amusing thing was, Rolanda had been right, there really wasn't anyone near as talented like the young Minerva McGonagall. She hadn't been nervous, after all, she only accepted to tryout to avoid Poppy's wraith in her ever growing interest in healing spells.

"Er- yes, thank you, Mr. Spinnet, for that... entertaining performance," Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain, Xavier Hawke, muttered as he waved his wand to summon the Snitch into his palm. "Miss McGonagall, you're up and for your sake, I dearly hope you have some sort of potential as my patience is running thin from these wanna-be's."

"Well then, prepare to be amazed, Hawke. I told you that she's one of the best and I meant it," Rolanda spoke with a mischievous grin on her lips, her eyes sparkled with excitement. "Go on, Min, show him what you're made of!"

The witch tightened her ribbon on her hair for good measure, then hopped on her broom.

"On your mark."

Minerva lifted her feet gently off the ground, hovering ever-so-slightly.

"Get set-"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Hawke, just release it!"

"GO!" The snitch zoomed forward, and Minerva raced after it. Her eyes kept steady on the target as she climbed in altitude. The little bugger did just about everything imaginable to lose its hunter, including a nose dive that would scare off most Quidditch players, but not Minerva. The reckless stunt she pulled at Aquae Lament last year had her prepared for this. Instead of out stretching her hand like most would have done, she chose to keep her broom steady, waiting for the ball to make an abrupt right turn, and when it did, she was right on it's wings, and caught it. Rolanda was the only one cheering, the rest were just as breathless as the young witch as she made her way back towards the Captain with triumphant glee.

"That enough for you, or do you need another go?" she asked with a grin as she tossed the deactivate snitch to him.

Hawke looked like he'd just been handed a pot of gold. "Welcome to the team, McGonagall. Practice starts tomorrow after fourth period. We'll get you equipped and measured so you'll have everything for the first match then the real work will begin."

Rolanda nearly took Minerva off her broom as she jumped up and hugged her tightly, "I told you, Min! I told you you'd make the team!"

As the two began walking back to the Castle, she couldn't help but overhear a last bit of conversation from Xavier as he put the Snitch away.

"If I do say so myself, Mr. Hawke, I think you've found a very fine Seeker."

"I think so too, Professor Dumbledore. Her performance was absolutely astounding. Between you and I, sir, with Hooch saving every ball thrown at her and if McGonagall performs like she did today, I have no doubts we'll be winning that Cup for sure!"

October 31st, 1938:

Defence Against the Dark Arts was beginning to prove ever more boring for for Minerva. She knew had to conduct everything like it was second nature to her, like in transfiguration, except there was no challenge in completing as she could easily do everything with a wave of her hand. Unlike most students who occasionally found themselves under her situation, she didn't slack off on the homework and assignments, but never-the-less, she found the temptation of falling asleep creep attach to her, especially when all they did was write three parchments about the defending the mind. The young witch finished it with half of class left, even adding two extra pages to boot.

"Miss McGonagall, you can not possibly be done?"

"I am, Professor, the concept is quite simple." Minerva handed her assignment to her professor. The elder witch looked at her student with small frown of annoyance, then quickly scanned the pages for unacceptable work. Minerva cringed inside, Merlin, I need to stop acting like everything isn't hard enough! One of these days it'll get me into trouble, I swear...

"May I read it?"

The young witch was rather surprised at Professor Merrythought's reply being more curious than expected. She nodded then waited patiently as the elder witch's eyes read the essay as if she couldn't believe a second year had written one so beautifully correct. When she finished, her professor simply placed the document on one side of her desk.

"This is an excellent paper, Miss McGonagall. I would like to see you after class, if you are not busy." Her voice was stern as ever, and facial features gave nothing away as to her true feelings, but her eyes were warm with a certain kind of love that she wasn't used to, a constant reminder of what Isobel continued to deprive her of.

"Of course, Ma'am." The young witch hardly paid attention to the gaping mouths and envious eyes of the other students as she sat down and began reading a fascinating Transfiguration research book Professor Dumbledore gave her.

How did you finish so quickly? Rolanda asked, thankfully looking at her with less amazement than everyone else, I still have a page to go, and you did two extra!

Minerva shrugged, turning a page. The key to a defensive mind is to empty your mind and clear all thoughts.

But the book said to never be surprised and keep thoughts from drifting! Poppy said with a bit of frustration.

You're right, but that's only the basis of defence and Occlumency which is to protect the mind from the Imperius Curse.

With that, both of them just continued with their assignment, leaving Minerva to muse over every little detail about the beginnings of Transfiguration, how it started and who invented it. She found several things were still left unsolved, and it annoyed her to no end. In fact, the more she pondered it, she realized that Transfiguration was the only core subject that didn't include the history of discovery.

The bell rang soon after. Minerva informed her sisters to go without her, then walked up to Professor Merrythought's desk. The elder witch motioned her to follow into her office, and she obeyed.

"Have a seat, McGonagall, you are not in detention."

"What am I here for, Professor?" she asked with calm curiosity.

"To discuss your apparent boredom in my class. I know you are a bright young witch and Professor Dumbledore speaks very highly of you- which, mind you, is very rare from him to be impressed, if you must know -so, you can see why I am puzzled to begin with."

"Forgive me, Professor, it is because I do not feel challenged in this class. I can do everything with a wave of my hand."

Merrythought's eyes raised in a mocking disbelief. "My dear, I can not tell you how many times I have had students tell me that, and never be able to perform such in front of me, especially at your age."

"May I show you then, Professor?"

Her eyes narrowed in irritation now as she sighed in annoyance. "Be my guest, Miss McGonagall."

Instantly, the young witch waved her hand. "Expelliarmus!"

The professor's wand flew out from its hook in her sleeve and soared into Minerva open palm. It was enough to convince Merrythought- clearly the woman had seen too many frauds.

"H-how..." the elder witch had to placed a hand on her chest to steady herself as she stared at Minerva, "Professor Dumbledore was not exaggerating then..." Merrythought said quietly, before nodding. "Very well then, I understand your predicament, Miss McGonagall, and thus I am willing to adjust your academic learning. I have only known this to be done with one other student and he thrived under it, so I do not see why you should not be any different. I will give you extra assignments at the start of the week, they will be a level ahead from where you are, but I fully expect you to do the assignments in this class without question. Would you like that?"

Minerva smiled as she gave the wand back. "Yes, Professor Merrythought, I'd like that very much."

"Well then, it is settled. I will send you an owl with a list at the start of every week, so there is no suspicion from your classmates. It might be best that this be kept secret between those close to you. Now, off you get."

"Professor?"

"Yes, McGonagall?"

"The student you were talking about, was he Professor Dumbledore?"

"Why yes, yes he was. Why do you ask, my dear?"

"No reason, Professor, just curious."

That was far beyond the truth, and both witches knew it. Minerva had an aura around her, that not even Merrythought could deny now. She made a mental note to ask the rest of the staff to conduct the same method of learning for the young McGonagall girl she would be conducting; and also to keep an eye on her for whatever hell might reign.

November 12th, 1938:

Minerva had done extremely well on their first match against Slytherin. Professor Dumbledore came up to congratulate her on her record of the fastest Snitch catching in nearly fifty years. It was true, as soon as the whistle had blown to start the game, Minerva dove for the golden devil like a magnet. At first, half the stadium had thought she'd lost control of her broom, especially when she'd recklessly drove under the stadium's seats. She had to dodge every wooden plank in her way, but she made it out, alive and victorious with that devil of a ball in her palm, just in time for Rolanda to save a ball.

On her way to Dumbledore's lesson that night, she began to overhear an argument between two students that was rather concerning to her.

"Hey, you, Mudblood! Yes, you, come here. I hear you got a detention, what, you can't run to you filthy Muggle mum and cry? Oh, wait, she's not here is she? I heard she died in a car accident, how unfortunate."

She turned the corner, facing the rudely out spoken boy from behind. He wasn't alone, he had the gang Minerva so dearly despised on his side, including Malfoy. To her surprise, it wasn't the platinum blond boy who was sneering, it was the first year boy, Tom Riddle. She had to do something, she'd feel horrible if she didn't, but at the same time, the young witch knew she'd get in trouble..

Ah, but what would a nice hiccuping hex be doing wrong? the thought echoed into her mind. She almost giggled as she waved her wand, using her mind to expand the hex to hit each member. Quickly and quietly, she turned the corner and walked towards Dumbledore's classroom, though, not without hearing the series of giggles and laughter coming from the poor Muggle-born as a the Slytherins began the hiccups that Minerva ensured would not stop for two days.

The young witch must have still held a small grin on her face when she entered the Transfiguration department, as Professor Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in question.

"You've had an exciting day, haven't you, Miss McGonagall?"

Minerva shrugged, still wearing her smile. "What am I learning this time, Professor?"

"You'll be training your mind to keep your awareness skill that we learned last year awake at all times."

The young witch's brows furrowed. "Forgive me, sir, but wouldn't that mentally and physically drain me? To keep a magical awareness open constantly would take an immense amount of fortitude and magical prowess that-"

"Someone like you has," the professor smirked. "I think it is you who are doubting yourself now, Miss McGonagall. It is true, that if you were to attempt this right here and now, you'd exhaust yourself to a grave extent, however, if you take it one step at a time, eventually your mind will develop pathways to make things easier. Like flying a broom, for example."

Minerva nodded slowly. "Alright, how will we conduct this?"

"Same as usual, you'll keep your eyes closed by a blindfold and I'll ask you to find an object that you'll have to find relatively quick. When you find the items, hover them for a moment, then repeat. We'll go with this for nearly two hours, to get a sense of where you stand today. So, prepare yourself for surprises anyway possible." He winked at her.

The young witch wasn't exactly sure what he meant, but was positive that it would be an amusing challenge nonetheless. She sat down, composing herself in her chair and covered her eyes with a ribbon she grabbed from his desk.

"Very well, Professor," she spoke, her voice still amused a bit, "let's get started."

"Find a water goblet then the jar of Rungweed," he instructed softly.

She knew where these were fairly easily already and had no trouble lifting one as instructed. But as time pressed on, and objects were piling on the list, she began to feel her magic straining to cooperate. Still, she forced it to do her bidding. It was at the last object, however, when things got out of hand.

"Good, now find my quill."

The young witch hesitated. "It's not in your pocket, is it, sir?"

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. "Not this time, Miss McGonagall."

Searching for it wasn't the problem, but levitating it was where she found difficulty, as if a wire had been chewed or a line on it's last string. Whatever it was, she simply could not make it lift like the others. Minerva took a deep breath, and tried again. The quill levitated off the desk, then suddenly burst into hundreds of feathers, she knew immediately something went wrong, and took off the ribbon. The sudden movement of her hands triggered each individual feather to erupt, setting off explosions like a rigged bomb. She was lucky Professor Dumbledore had his wand ready, or several feathers would have taken her out. He acted with a ferocity and determination she hadn't seen before; he grabbed her, pulling her near him protectively, then quickly encased their fiery feathers until all had safely exploded.

The young witch just stood there, encased in Dumbledore's arms, completely dumbfounded while looking at the mess she created her professor had sacrificed several feathers in order to keep her safe.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, still holding her in his arms. She couldn't find herself to speak, to shocked at what she'd done, so she merely nodded softly. Nothing had gone as planned, but with a wave of his hand, everything returned the way it was. Not a simple thing out of order, nor destroyed. It always seemed that way when she was around him, that everything could be fixed with a wave of his hand. She felt safe with him, though she knew she shouldn't. He had something hidden and that conversation she overheard last year hadn't been forgotten. Minerva still didn't know who Grindelwald was, but she had a feeling he wasn't a man she'd like to meet. It should keep her wary of her professor, but she couldn't bring herself to it.

"Come, let's go to my office, I think you'll need some tea to calm your nerves."

He let go, softly leading her to his office. The young witch sat down quietly, looking at her hands in confusion and anger.

"I had a feeling that would happen, you know," Professor Dumbledore spoke quietly after he'd summoned an elf for tea."You've amazed me beyond my wildest imaginings since we first met that I truly have no way of gauging of how your magic will react."

The house else returned, and Dumbledore retrieved the tray of steaming mugs. "Thank you, Mozart, that'll be all for now." The elf nodded then left again as the professor walked over towards the young witch. "Here, I think you'll find this quite to your liking."

She accepted the mug with a raised brow, then cautiously sipped the hot liquid. The young witch smiled as the taste lingered on her lips.

"Highland heather," she said simply, looking at her professor who finally sat down in the couch across from her, "How did you know?"

Dumbledore shrugged with a smile as he too took a sip. "Lucky guess."

She waited for the tea to take effect, taking slow, deep breaths, before she began to talk again, "I don't understand what went wrong, sir, I couldn't lift the feather. It felt like a link had been worn down from overuse, but I continued anyway, wanting to finish the task..."

"Ah, and that's problem, Miss McGonagall, you overworked yourself."

Minerva frowned, she never thought her magic could have limits. "Even so, why did everything act so violently and completely uncontrolled?"

Professor Dumbledore's twinkling eyes gazed into hers. "What do you think?"

He was challenging her to think about the situation, to reflect and come to a conclusion and if there was one thing Minerva McGonagall was known for, it was never backing out of a challenge to knowledge. She drew silent for while reliving it for a moment, seeing every action as it happened.

"I acted with panic. Thus, upon being overworked like never before, my magic took that slight moment of emotion and turned it into a... defence mechanism?" That didn't sound right to her and she she looked up at him for correction, but he nodded.

"Although you could have easily been killed by that little mechanism, your reasoning is correct. I must strongly caution you to never try that again unless being supervised by myself, Professor Merrythought, or under 'desperate measures', and I emphasis desperate, Miss McGonagall."

Minerva nodded her head. "I understand sir."

"Good. Now, let's get you back to your dormitory, I'm sure your sisters are worried about you." Minerva almost used her mental connection to check when Dumbledore interrupted her thoughts, "No, I don't know what exactly what it is that you do, but I know you use some-sort of magic that's connected the minds of your sisters- nor do I know how you've done such -but I'm giving you orders as the Deputy not use any sort of magic for the next twenty-four hours. It's essential that you rest. That connection you wore out to the point of cracking needs to mend, especially if you don't want such mechanisms happening again."

Minerva smiled softly. "Agreed. No magic for a day..." her smile turned into a smirk. "Although, if I go insane, do I have permission to blame you, sir?"

Dumbledore laughed.

May 26th, 1939:

Before Minerva knew it, the school year had gone by so quickly, she hardly knew what hit her until she was on the Quidditch pitch, when the thunderous roar of the crowd echoed in her ears as she and the rest of the team flew onto the pitch. This match was all that stood between Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and the House Cup. According to Xavier, Hufflepuff hadn't a team so good in years, but neither has Gryffindor seen the likes of a team so naturally talented. Pomona had given them her best wishes, which Rolanda was rather surprised about, though stated that she would undoubtedly be cheering for Hufflepuff with a wink.

Minerva looked her her left, and smiled at her eager hawk-eyed sister. "Good luck!"

Rolanda squeezed her shoulder. "You too, find that Snitch as quick as you can. I gave Hawke and Cord a few extra tips on your methods and strategies to help protect you better from those Bludgers, but I doubt you'll have much trouble."

"Hawke didn't take offense?"

Rolanda rolled her eyes with a smile. "He asked me for advice, it's not like I was being-"

The whistle blew for them to get into positions. they wished each other good luck again, before setting off. Minerva caught a glance at Poppy, who proudly waved the Gryffindor banner with pride, and saw Professor Dumbledore give her a smile.

The crowd grew silent as the commentator listed the names of players, while their flying instructor opened the crate. The young witch hovered a few feet above everyone else, keeping her eyes on the golden devil. When the whistle blew, everything flew into chaos. All six chasers dived for the Quaffle, the Buldgers were released, flying around hectically, but the snitch... where was the snitch? It had gone, completely out of sight.. Minerva cursed, then jerked her broom to the left to avoid an oncoming Bludger.

"Get a move on, McGonagall!" Xavier hollered as he batted the ball away, "It's not safe here!"

She did as instructed, moving towards the commentator area, then turned around, keeping her eye out for that Snitch. Unfortunately, it seemed to have vanished completely. Two long and boring hours passed and neither Seeker had bolted into a daring charge for the bugger. Xavier was constantly near her, keeping the Bludgers away, and even he was beginning to feel the effects of the game.

"Should I call a Timeout? We all could use a rest."

"We only get one of those, Hawke, and I have a bad feeling we'll need it later."

"If you say so..."

Unfortunately, Minerva was right. Another two hours passed, the abominable snitch was still nowhere to be seen, and several players were close to swaying off their broom from dizziness. At this point, nobody was really trying to get a goal in, with the score being tied and they decided on saving their strength. The Hufflepuff Seeker, Roger Tipp, headed near her, his eyes still on the lookout, but never the less, he was also bored of hovering and dodging.

"Have you seen it?" he asked her in genuine conversation.

Minerva shook her head. "No, I haven't. It's like the devil disappeared after the whistle!"

"It's not like a Snitch to never show its face for this long, usually it appears for a second, there's a bit of a chase but then it goes poof, but not like-"

"Look out!" Minerva yelled as she rammed her broom to the side, dragging Tipp's broom with her, as both Bludgers with deadly accuracy aimed to take them both out. They barely managed to escape them.

"Bloody hell, thanks, McGonagall! That would have been at least a week in the Hospital wing, I owe you one."

Minerva shrugged. "Hey, Hawke, wake up over there! I just about got my self-"

There was a flicker of light, and she was gone, zooming into the sky. She could hear the commentator's voice rising with excitement, partially cheering Minerva to get the snitch so that the game would end. She fought hard to keep her broom steady, as she spiraled around players. She followed it down near the grass, her turf, and she knew she had it before it touched her fingers. The crowd, even a few Hufflepuffs who were just ready for the game to be over, erupted in a thunderous cheer. Gryffindor won, and Minerva had never been more happier for a game of Quidditch to be over, especially with the Cup in her hands.

May 27th, 1939:

Although she was tired from the endless excitement last night, she didn't show it the next day. Between Augusta, Rolanda and Poppy, there was enough excitement to go around the world five times over. Today's classes were meant to be used to study and practice for their final exams, even if there had been a House Cup awarded last night, and Professor Dumbledore was eager to keep it so.

"Alright everyone, I've very glad to see you're still enthusiastic about last night's game, however, if you do not get to work, I'll be assigning detentions."

Minerva partnered up with Pomona to help her with changing the mouse into a pincushion, and, if needed, clear the air.

"Relax, Mona, there's nothing to be tense about, the game is over, after all."

Thankfully, Pomona didn't take it offensively, and it was something that Minerva admired about the witch, her way of knowing exactly what context a conversation was meant.

The pudgy girl smiled. "You have a point. Congratulations on finding that golden bugger, by the way. I didn't get a chance to tell you that with all the celebration."

Poppy was, as usual, showing promise in the subject. She'd conducted everything just one wand wave behind Minerva, though every now and then the dark haired witch would pretend she couldn't get it right to keep her friend's hopes high. She really did have a good mind for the subject, and Minerva didn't want her to feel overshadowed. Poor Rolanda tended to get frustrated with the Transfiguration, unlike Defensive Arts, and was able to do everything, though it took her more time and practice than her sisters. She tended to vent her frustration with Augusta, who always had a laugh. Between the five of them, they all seemed to compliment each other with their studies- well, except Augusta with Charms, she really couldn't get her mind wrapped around the subject.

The period ended, and as everyone gathered their books, Professor Dumbledore spoke up, "Miss McGonagall, Miss Pomfrey, I'd like a word with you before you leave, please."

The two glanced at each other for a moment.

Do you know what that' about? Poppy asked with a bit of nerves.

Minerva threw a teasing glare at her, You think I know what goes on in that brilliant lemony mind of his?

Well, you do spend a few extra hours with him more than anyone else!

The two glanced at the rest of the group in unison.

"Go on, we'll catch up later," Poppy suggested, then walked up to Dumbledore's desk with Minerva.

"First off, I'd like to say that I'm very impressed with your progress and ability. It's not often that Transfiguration has two students as young as you are, excel at the subject with ease and grace as you two do, yes Miss Pomfrey, even you," Poppy blushed lightly, "In light of this, I'd like to extend the offer of you two joining the Animagus study for next year after lessons."

The two sisters looked into each other's eyes with wide excitement.

"Becoming an Animagus is very difficult and usually takes several years of study before even attempting to transform, but, it is an offer that I'd like you two to consider. I normally give this advice to third years, but seeing as you two are so naturally gifted, I feel obligated to informing you know so you have time to think it over the summer."

Minerva could feel her heart pounding in her chest. It's what she always wanted since she first got her acceptance letter. She squeezed Poppy's hand in excitement.

"That you, sir, thank you so much!" they both said in unison, as the dashed towards the Great Hall for lunch. Minerva was nearly skipping down the halls. The young witch wasn't worried about the summer anymore, she had something to look forward to now.

A whole year in a chapter, and the next chapter will do the same! Do be kind to Em, she put up with about three of my updates during the holidays! You're a gem, dear, really, and I can't thank you enough!

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter and your Holidays.

~LinK