A/N: Thank you for the wonderful reviews; below is my thanks back to you. :)

Chapter 35 ~ November 10, 2009 (Tuesday)

"No, Albus. I cannot be certain." She said pouring herself a steaming cup of coffee.

"But it did go well last eve?" A ring of hopefulness lacing his cadence.

"After the first hour." Minerva stated, leaning back into the chair as she gazed at her husband's portrait, a coy smile upon his face. "Care to share what you are thinking?"

"Only that you always look absolutely breathtaking in the morning, before you ready for the day. The way you half-heartedly braid your hair, the tendrils of ebony locks brushing along your ivory robe that is drawn about your slender frame, enabling a glimpse of your milky skin that causes ones imagination to picture the ivory robe as your precious pearly skin…then we come to your legs." A huskiness beginning to lace his voice. "And the way you have them tucked beneath you, knees exposed from beneath the edge of your robe…and I find myself wishing to be there," Desire sparkling from deep within his eyes, noting the hint of color rising in her cheeks. "To touch and love you as you deserve, my dear."

She cocked her brow, accent deeply lacing her voice. "I do so wish you were here to ease the ache you have so deftly ignited."

"Ohhh…love, you have no idea." Albus whispered.

Minerva felt a surge of emotion course through her, a fraction of what it once was, but momentarily almost as poignant; and she closed her eyes, allowing the feeling of wanton desire to wash over her. "I have an inkling, love." She murmured. She sat there for several minutes, eyes closed…willing her pulse rate to slow, but could still feel his desire coursing through their bond. "Love…" She moaned, shifting her lower body to ease her ache. "You aren't helping."

"I am sorry." Came a sincere voice, "On many levels."

Emerald eyes opened and sparkled in the morning twilight. "As am I." She licked her lips, wishing her tongue was his lips and found herself standing…no longer able to comfortably sit. "Change the topic, Albus." She murmured, resting her hands upon the back edge of the sofa.

"Dear…"

"It's awful enough during my animagus state not to give in, and to feel your desire coursing through me…heightening my own, knowing there is no relief only greater ache…"

"Minerva, know that I wish I were there to relieve it."

"I know," She said, tightening her grip.

And at her almost pained expression, he knew that their mutual desire had to be shifted, as wonderful as it was to feel her through their bond, it was not fair to her. "The night before last, regarding Hermione and the conversation you had with Filius. Did you learn anything yesterday?"

"I had a brief conversation with Hermione…"

Minerva stepped around the exiting Slytherin and Gryffindor second years, Hermione already beginning to clean the room and prepare for the next class. "Good morning, Professor Granger." Minerva's voice ringing out in the almost empty room.

Hermione felt her hands stop without thought as she glanced upwards, "And to you Professor McGonagall."

Minerva gave a nod to Samantha, the last student exiting the classroom, before leaving them momentarily alone. "I apologize for not coming sooner, I did not return to my rooms until quite late. Do you have time to discuss it now or perhaps later today?"

Hermione cast a silencing charm upon them, stepping closer. Her initial reason for wishing to see her yesterday had eased after she had taken a warm bath, even the pervasive tingling within her fingers, and she couldn't help but think that perhaps Filius' statement was far truer than she first imagined. "I was merely going to ask if we could defer our training for this next week, I am behind in my curriculum and…"

"Would like a break from working with me." Minerva stated directly meeting brown eyes.

"I…" Hermione had known that Minerva would believe it stemmed from their conversation yesterday, and truthfully, it in part did; but not entirely. She had yet to submit the last five weeks of terms curriculum, nor had she the opportunity to see her friends…and she wanted to be ready to see her children this coming weekend; in addition she needed to sort out her own thoughts regarding the woman in front of her and why she could not get her out of her head. "In part." She said, "But, I need some time to do what you hired me to do, teach. I have yet to prepare the last week of November through the end of December; and from what you said yesterday, I believe it prudent to make sure I am prepared for class."

"As you wish." Minerva replied, a mask descending upon her face. "Was there anything else?"

Hermione gave a short shake of the head, "No," Minerva already turning to leave, Hermione reaching outward, "But, you need to know…" Grasping the other woman's arm, causing Minerva to turn her head to look back at Hermione. "That I will be there next Monday."

Minerva gave a singular nod, "I will see you at lunch, Professor." And with that, Hermione let her hand drop from the soft silk of Minerva's arm and watched as the Headmistress proudly exited the room.

"But it did not come up in discussion. Rather her desire to take a break from working with me." Minerva stated, a hint of melancholy lining her eyes.

"And your thoughts regarding Filius' words?" He asked, redirecting the conversation back to something that would cause her to have to use her logical mind.

"I…" Minerva shook off her own thoughts regarding the slight discord she and Hermione were having, "Think that you may have had a point the previous evening."

Albus' brows knitted together, "Are you referring to the evening I died?"

"Yes." She answered, stepping away from the couch, wandlessly summoning her cup of coffee as she approached the portrait. "We know that as our bond all but shattered, and my one with Hogwarts strengthened, the magic was so strong…much like when we join and recalibrate the wards, but even more and during that point is when Hermione touched me."

"Are you thinking that…Hermione and Hogwarts…" He let his voice trail off.

"Not bound, but…perhaps, predisposed or even…tethered to its magic."

Albus reached up and pulled his glasses off. "And when you were within the Heart on Sunday, and re-synchronizing the wards, the Heart and the latticework; the power of the Heart is what caused Hermione to feel edgy?"

Minerva took the last sip of coffee within her cup, "If you eliminate what cannot be, and look at all that is left, no matter…"

"How improbable…"

They both finished the last lines together, "Or unlikely is undoubtedly the cause."

"She didn't feel anything when you were significantly injured during the Hukbar." Albus stated matter a factly.

"And the only way she would feel anything regarding what occurred on Sunday…"

"Is if she were bound or…"

"That's a very large 'something', Albus."

"When you were connected on Sunday, did you feel anything else?"

Minerva pursed her lips, "No, repairing the fracture took a lot of focus and energy."

"Perhaps when you have time, you could go to the Heart and see if Hogwarts magic seems tethered."

"As tempting as that sounds, I don't know if I have the strength necessary to join with the Heart again this week."

"Minerva…"

She shook her head, "Albus, as important as this is, I am exhausted and not sleeping."

He sighed, "I know, but if she is in some way connected to Hogwarts…"

"I doubt it is anything more than a tether, or she would have felt it when Hogwarts was attacked prior to the start of term. And she will probably only feel it throughout her life if there is a significant pull upon Hogwarts magic."

"Mistress…" Elgin appeared handing her a folded paper, "You'se report."

"Thank you, Elgin."

"Is Master Rory returning soon?" He questioned blinking up at her.

Albus couldn't keep a smile from forming upon his face, knowing the cause of Elgin's concern. "No, I'm afraid he is quite busy in the foreseeable future."

Elgin's ears drooped, "You'se didn't sleep much last evening without Master Rory."

Minerva sighed, "I am aware, Elgin. And regarding my sleeping patterns, you are not to share those with Professor Granger nor anyone else."

Large yellow eyes stared up at her, but at seeing her resolve, he gave a nod. "Very well."

"Thank you, Elgin." She said, returning her attention to her husband. "Regarding Hermione, I have never felt her presence nor an inkling of a connection when working in the Heart."

"How much magic did you have to use?"

"The fracture was along the base of Foundation and Heart, and it took considerable amount of effort to get them realigned."

"Did you feel whose magic you used, yours or Hogwarts?"

Minerva opened her mouth to respond but stopped, "I believe both, as I could feel the burn across my skin while I conducted the spells, but just as quickly I felt it heal…which was one of the reasons I was so tired that evening; it felt that I was perpetually being burned and healed."

"Which means the pull upon Hogwarts was far more intensive than you merely re-aligning the Heart."

"It would seem that I shall have to be careful for the rest of the year if I have to go back within the Heart."

"If you can…"

"I will take a trip to the Heart within the next two weeks to see if there is any trace of a connection between Hogwarts and Hermione."

Xoxoxo

Hermione paused at hearing the distinct voice filtering down the hall, "…of you to come."

"I must say, Minerva. It is good to be back." Horace's dry words barely reaching her ears.

Hermione found herself shifting her direction and as she turned the corner, could see the edge of Minerva distinct emerald and Horace's eggplant robes flitter around the corner, disappearing from view. With a sigh, Hermione began retracing her initial route, mind upon the witch in green robes. She was still very comfortable with her decision to take the week off, perhaps help to clear her head and enable her to catch up on her paperwork. Yet, as she stepped into her classroom, she couldn't help feel as though she may have made a mistake yesterday.

Xoxox

"George," Percy came into the back, "I was going to go grab a bite to eat from Rollins, want anything?"

He shook his head, "No, I ate a short time ago." He stood up, "I've got the store, go ahead."

Percy gave a smile and continued walking down the back of the store, George stepping out onto the floor. Immediately noticing that it was quite, much like most mornings during this time of the year, but his thought was interrupted as the door jingled signaling that he did indeed have a customer.

Stepping around the display, he felt his day irrevocably change as his eyes landed upon Rory Wallace. "Hello." He said, a smile naturally appearing upon his face.

"George." Rory stated in greeting, eyes sweeping around the shop. "I was hoping to speak with you for a minute."

George gave a nod, "We can step towards the back, but Percy just left, so I'm afraid that I can't leave the floor."

"That'll be fine." Rory replied and at George's motion, strode towards the back of the shop; George walking beside him. "Business still doing well?"

"Very well," George stated, "Despite Hermione's misgivings at having to deal with the product line while teaching at Hogwarts."

Rory chuckled, "Yes, I believe Minerva has been less than happy at having to deal with the added bonus of the Weasley Wheezies products over the years."

They drew to a stop, "I don't know," He stated, facing Rory, noting for the first time that Rory was only perhaps an inch shorter if at all. "She has been a good sport, even helped once or twice when I've been stuck in the development stages."

Smokey grey eyes twinkled, "That sounds like someone I used to know."

"You've known McG a long time." George stated, intending it to be rhetorical.

"Since childhood." Rory answered honestly, "She is a wonderful and a very close friend."

"I'm sure she is." George replied, wishing he could say the same thing, but reality was, it was hard to get past her reclusive spirit. He heard the door jingle, indicating that another person had entered the store, "I don't mean to be curt, but…" And he motioned towards the door, Rory gave a nod in understanding. "What can I help you with?"

"Perhaps it would be better to talk about after your store closes."

This caused a flash of concern to spark across his eyes, "Are you sure it can wait?"

"Aye, it can." Rory said, "But are ya available on Saturday?"

George knitted his eyes together, "I can make it now, I'll just close…"

Rory held up his hand, "I willna be back in the low country till Saturday, and it can wait."

George found himself nodding, "Alright, but why not lunch after the meeting?"

Rory was about to agree, when a child came around the corner with his mother, pulling George's attention; but not without a momentary lasting look back at Rory as he wondered what had driven the Highlander man to his door before smiling to the young man and mother.

Xoxoxo

"After last week's incident at Borgin and Burkes' I am shifting Gawain's primary focus to the Harkiss threat, but I need a handful of your unspeakable's for another job."

All eyes snapped to Harold Harrison, the head of the department of mysteries, to see his reaction; however, as usual his face remained stoic and eyes almost void of emotion. Inwardly, however, was another matter as he forced his face to remain congenial and voice neutral in response. "While I think you need assistance, Gawain, as the Aurors cannot do this alone; it would be very unwise for the unspeakables to be seen throughout the streets of London on assignment." Nods of consent were immediately given to Harold's statement. "After decades of mistrust, their reputation has finally begun to return to a favorable…"

Kingsley interrupted, and Gawain flashed Harold a look of concern. "And if we had no need, I would not request their assistance, but they are uniquely able to track…"

"I will not jeopardize their lives…"

"Following the Headmistress of Hogwarts is hardly a lethal task."

A cold chill swept through the room at the Minister's statement as the other fifteen department heads mouths uniformly slackened, save for the man being addressed, but everyone could see how the light flashed behind his eyes before once again becoming black as night. "For me to order their assignment, it must be threat to the wizarding world's way of life; Minerva McGonagall would not constitute a threat."

Brown eyes met blue-grey ones; "I am not issuing this conscription because of her deeds, rather to assist in protecting her life and hopefully helping us to garner ways to track and find Harkiss." He leaned forward, "She seems to be at the very epi-center of this crisis and not overly willing to share all of her information with the Ministry or even her own sources."

A round of nods went through the table, in conjunction with wishes to protect the Headmistress' safety, and Harold felt a slow noose sliding about his neck as the chatter and support for the Minister's proposed mission died away, eyes turning to him expectantly; awaiting for his commitment to the saving and protection of Minerva McGonagall; their beloved icon and Headmistress of Hogwarts, who was neither to him. She was his friend, and he hers…and to sanction this, to have shadows upon the wind plaguing and reporting to Shacklebolt her every move…and he would not be able to speak of this to her, to anyone. Once released, he would be forbidden and prevented from sharing anything that was reported, save to the Minister…

Harold felt his throat catch and his heart skip a beat, "A squad of four will be dispatched this evening." His job had just placed his friend in harm's way, and there would be little he could do to slow the Express that was steaming forward.

Kingsley's brow arched, "Wonderful, but I require your team to be dispatched with haste."

Harold stared at the Minister for a solitary moment before letting a coy smile appear on his face as he placed his hand upon the table, a Weasley Wheezies gold coin plainly evident as he balanced it upon the edge, Kingsley's picture timing with fool…as Harold leaned back, the coin suddenly swirling across the table and a smoky haze bursting forth. "They…" Six smoky faces came into view, "Are currently in Berlin and I can…"

The Minister held up his hand, halting any commentary, but Harold waved his hand and the grainy picture shifted.

"And they are at Balmoral…"

"Harold…"

"My men are few and those that are not currently deployed, are on holiday. I will have a team put together by this evening." He stated, giving no room for negotiation, as he pulled his bond to him, permitting Helena to feel his concern and a shred of worry. "That will not impact your other priorities."

Kingsley nodded, "Very well." He turned to the other men and women within the room, "Now...for what is upon the agenda…"

Harold felt Helena's comfort as the coin upon the table fell upon Kingsley's face, Harold wishing that Kingsley was indeed the fool pictured; however, knowing that he was not.

Xoxoxo

Minerva stared at the note, disbelieving. "Elgin," She glanced up, voice thick, unsettled. "Are you sure that Harold wrote this?"

"He's asked Twilt to bring it."

Minerva's green eyes darted back to the hastily scratched words, and she felt her heart sink. What on earth would possess him to write such a note? And why would he risk his granddaughters life? And to have Twilt appear at the Ministry…

"Merlin, Harold…" Minerva uttered, as the paper caught on fire, turning to smoke and ash within her fingers before it fluttered into nothingness upon the air. "I hope you know what you are doing." She said to no one in particular, hating herself for what she was about to ask Elgin. "Please locate a student for me."

"At once, Mistress." Elgin said, not understanding what was vexing his Minerva. "Who?"

"Samantha," Minerva said as she turned to her faithful servant, "Meaur."

"Blonde's granddaughter?"

Minerva gave a nod, "It would seem that she is about to have an accident."

Elgin's face fell, "No…" He said shaking his tiny head, "She's so…"

"Elgin, time is of the essence." Minerva said interrupting him, "Please, go find her."

"At once." He stated and with a crack, he was gone. Leaving a horrified woman in his wake, a woman who viewed the young girl as a granddaughter…

She blinked tears away, knowing that Harold would not ask without very good reason, but…to hurt an innocent…

"She's in the Gryffindor common room about to leave for her afternoon class, Transfiguration."

"Thank you, Elgin." Minerva said, whispering as she blinked back another wave of tears as an idea easily came to mind. "Merlin help me…"

xoxoxo

"Poppy!" Hermione stated as she rounded the corner, "Poppy!" She glanced down at her brilliant young student, body partially transfigured.

"Hermione…" She stopped, "What has happened?"

"Her wand, backfired and…" Hermione set Samantha down upon the cot, "I have never seen…" Feeling her heart plummet at the young woman's obvious distress, distress that mirrored her own. Samantha's arms had shrunk to the size of the slender legs of a tortoise, her chest the soft under side of the shell, the bottom of her jaw mix of a reptilian…the rest of her body unchanged. "I tried the counter-spell, but…"

Poppy shook her head, "We need a level two transfiguration master. Tily." Poppy called out, immediately the house elf was blinking with almost hazy green eyes.

"Yes."

"Please get the Headmistress." Poppy stated.

"She'se not upon the grounds."

"Do you know…" Samantha shifted, a slight moan of pain eschewing forth, ending Poppy's questions to Tily. "We'll get you over to St. Mungos." She turned to Hermione as she cast a levitation spell upon the child, "I'll keep you posted."

Xoxoxo

Jordan stared at her daughter, mouth in her throat as her mother rounded the corner, two men in tow. "Where's Minerva?" Jordan asked as her mother neared.

Helena couldn't help her jaw from clenching, "Out."

Jordan swallowed, "And can either of you…assist my daughter?"

The taller of the two wizards extended out his hand, "Virgil Nexus." He said as they grasped hands, "And yes." He turned to the young woman laying upon the bed. "It'll just take some time to reverse the spell."

Jordan let out of breath she hadn't known she was holding as her eyes scanned her mother's face; aggravation evident regarding her statement of Minerva's scarce whereabouts. And she too couldn't help wonder where Minerva was, as it was exceptionally rare that her mother was not able to contact her aunt.

Xoxoxo

"My granddaughter is in the hospital, Minister." Harold snapped, ice blue eyes on fire. "Are you telling me that this mission supersedes my granddaughter's well being? And cannot wait for two hours?"

Kingsley stared at the normally quiet man, knowing that there was little he could do to prevent Harold from leaving the Ministry prior to the implementation of sending a squad of unspeakable to track Minerva. "It can wait," He waved the office door close, "But if I hear that you have spoken with Minerva during your absence; I will send you to Azkaban."

"Be careful, Minister." Harold's glacial voice sending shivers down Kingsley's spine. "That you do not mix your own personal issues with others."

"I know that you are lifelong friends with her."

"And you have ordered me to do a job; one guised in the shroud of protection when you and both know that you seek far more."

"Tell her and…"

"Save your threats Minister, I am a professional and will do my job." He spun on his heel, "Worry about your own; and I will return as soon as my granddaughter is safe."

xoxoxo

Hermione stepped into the Great Hall, expecting to see the Headmistress and was surprised to see her chair, empty and the plate unspoiled. She gave Filius and Pomona a nod as she made her way to her chair, Sinistra already pouring her a cup of juice.

"Here," She said handing it to her, "I heard there was a bit of an accident in your class today."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, taking the juice. "There was." She took a sip of the crisp liquid. "Though, I have not been able to figure out how it happened." She her glass down, "I verified what Miss Meaur's last spell was; and she had used the correct one along with accurate wand movements." She scooped a helping of mashed potatoes. "I was hoping to speak with the Headmistress this evening to see if she had an idea as to what the cause could have stemmed from, however," She cast her eyes to the vacant chair, "She has been unavailable." She finished wondering when Minerva would be returning to Hogwarts, and knowing that she could be as elusive as the wind.

"Filius stated she has not been upon the grounds since lunch," Sinistra loaded her fork with baby carrots, "And as she did not return for dinner, I doubt she'll be back anytime soon." Sinistra paused, "Probably speaking with the Administrator of St. Mungos regarding Miss Meaur."

"I'm sure." Hermione muttered, feeling abysmal for not knowing what happened in her class, not having prevented it and that the young lady had not been able to be treated on-site. Worse yet, she thought as she pulled a thin slice of beef onto her plate, Minerva has not been here to inquire how something like that could have happened…unless it wasn't an accident. Came a distant voice in the back of her head one which she immediately shook off, as all of the other students were as shocked as she. Perhaps she would ask Minerva her thoughts on the topic tonight…the stark realization struck her that she would not be seeing Minerva tonight, nor any night this week unless she went to the Headmistress suite, because she had suspended her tutelage for the interim. Lifting her head, she turned to engage in conversation with Sinistra, brown eyes momentarily remaining fixed upon the empty place seating, wondering where the woman had vanished to.

Xoxoxo

Turbulent blue eyes sparkled as her fury echoed through their bond, "You had…….WHAT?!" Helena snapped causing Harold to step forward, bringing his body flush against hers as he physically welded her backwards.

"I told you…" His rumbling voice vanishing as the window rattled and the door closed with a crash.

Jayne sighed as she motioned for the other assistants to return to their work, the sparks while not over between Helena and Harold, were over as far as public consumption would be permitted to see. She began to shift Helena's schedule around, knowing that her husband would be with her for at least twenty minutes; and tried not feel the need to take a headache draught. How could the woman book so many things at once? There were times that she swore that Helena had been issued a time turner; or perhaps she had crafted one herself.

"Excuse me," Came a deep, solid voice causing Jayne to lift her head up as a tall wizard in olive robes stood before her, an aura of urgency exuding from his body. "Is both Harold and Helena Harrison within that office at the moment."

"I'm sorry," Jayne said a frown on her face, "I am not at liberty to answer…"

"Mitchell Eve with the Auror department," He nodded his head toward the door, "I need to speak with both of the Harrisons, immediately."

Jayne felt her breath hitch, eyes darting to the door knowing full well that to intrude upon Healer Harrison when she didn't wish to be bothered was, at best, a loathsomely poor idea; to do so with her husband in the office with her after a family member had been brought to St. Mungos injured…was nothing short of a death wish. "Mr. Eve, I'm sorry, but she is not to be disturbed…"

"Under the Ministry provision, 221.23 I am ordering you to open that door." He stated, black eyes narrowing.

Jayne stood up, and stepped into the lobby motioning for him to step around her desk. "If you wish to face the wrath of the Harrisons, by all means. But I will not."

Mitchell glowered at the younger woman, jaw rippling, obviously trying not to comment upon her statement as he stepped around the desk; fingers already upon his wand, as his left hand reached outward…

Xoxoxo

His lips crashed against hers, forcing her verbal tirade to cease as the anguish quickly ignited into something more as their tongues equally plundered the treasures of the other. It wasn't until he heard her moan into his mouth and their bond reverberate with desire that Harold remembered why he was here, and at once, he pulled away. "Helena." He gasped, "Listen."

"Harold…" The rest of her words died within her throat at the pleading look within his eyes, and the overwhelming concern that mirrored their desire coursing through them. "What is it?"

"I need to show you…" He cast a glance towards the door, "Quickly."

"But you're not a…" She shook her head as the reality of what he was asking her to do, "We swore we would never…"

"They are recent memories…"

"There is a Ministry official wanting entry." Dilys' voice interrupting.

"Helena…"

"How recent?" She asked, trying to still nerves and heart.

"This morning."

"Don't fight." She whispered, and before he could say a word…he heard the tendrils of a spell leave her lips and then, the rush of her skirting along his mind…and at once, he recalled the meeting from this morning.

And a faint gasp left Helena's lips as the memories and his feelings washed through her…their bond intensifying…

"Oh…God…Harold." She breathed as she pulled back, tears in her eyes as the gravity of what she just witnessed sunk into her consciousness.

"You must tell Minerva."

"I will, but why Samantha?"

He shook his head as the door began to open, "You'll never know." He breathed against her cheek as a tear slipped off his grey lashes as their arms tightened around the other…

Mitchell stepping in on the intimate, heartfelt embrace between Helena and Harold…a gentle flow of tears streaming down both their cheeks, Mitchell immediately bowed his head, glancing away as did the entire room beyond believing the charged emotion emanating from them stemmed from the recent events with their granddaughter.

Little did they realize how menial Samantha's injuries from the recent event had just became as Helena and Harold struggled with the information shared and what that would mean to their dearest friend; and how his job had just placed an irrevocable wedge in their life too.

Xoxoxo

Gawain involuntarily took a step back as Harold entered his office, blue eyes as cold as the Tundra. "Before you say anything, I was under orders."

"I thought we had an understanding." Harold's voice rumbled, "And after today…"

"We do, and I never would have sent anyone, Harold." Gawain sighed, "But he already had someone posted at St. Mungos watching Helena." Gawain's frown matched Harold's. "You mean you didn't authorize a detail to watch your wife."

"Heaven's no." Harold snapped, feeling his anger burn hot. "Don't tell me…"

Gawain shook his head, "I would have told you."

Harold peered deeply into his long time associate's green gaze, "I believe you."

His brow arched, hand palmed upon his desk as he leaned forward, "It would seem that we both have another problem."

"Quite." Harold stated, "One that I cannot foresee an easy end for either of us."

"Do you know what McGonagall did to warrant the actions Kingsley is undertaking?"

"Watching out for the Wizarding world's best interests." Harold honestly replied.

"And, what, he didn't believe her?" Gawain asked disbelieving, "They have been friends for years…"

"He thought her motives were personal." Harold interjected, leaving Gawain speechless. "And while she has a personal history with Harkiss," A deep sadness lacing his usually expressionless eyes, "She would never permit it to interfere with the greater good; even if it is at her own personal cost."

"Merlin's beard…" Gawain muttered, "To discount McGonagall…" He ran a hand through his sandy red hair, "How are you going to alert her to what Kingsley has ordered?"

"I cannot." Harold said, raising his own gaze to meet that of Gawain's. "Neither can you."

"But…"

"From what you said, Kingsley is covering his basis, and that means that we must as well. And as for Minerva," A coy smile curled the edge of his lips, "I believe she'll do just fine."

Xoxoxo

Helena materialized in a flurry of cloaks, soot and flame. "Minerva!" She bellowed out as she scourgified her robes to remove the soot. "Where the devil are you?" She muttered and cast a glance upwards, "I don't suppose any of you would be willing to tell me."

Albus was the only one to meet her icy glare. "In her chambers." Her cloak billowed around her as she turned, not bothering to stop and acknowledge the rest of Albus' statement. "Be cautious."

The portraits all gazed upon the other, wide eyed and concerned, as her mood did not bode well for the Headmistress; who herself was not in the best of moods. And as Helena came to the top of the brass staircase, her voice practically shrill.

"Minerva! Where are you? And what in Merlin's beard were you playing at earlier!"

Dilys' warm gaze slide away from the soon to be explosive scene, eyes landing upon saddened blue ones. "This does not bode well."

Albus shifted his line of vision, "No…" The rest of his reply was momentarily interrupted as a door could be heard flung open as it crashed upon a wall and a very terse Scottish brogue reverberated off the stonewalls.

"Helena, what is with you?"

"Me!" Agitated arms began to animate wildly, matching Helena's distraught voice. "I'm not the one who transfigured Samantha!"

"…it does not." Albus finished, feeling his heartache at the mounting exchange between his wife and her best friend.

xoxoxo

Minerva felt as though Helena had just willingly struck her with the Cruciatus curse, and she fought for her own internal balance as she met Helena's tempestuous countenance as her logical brain rationalized Helena's reaction. "Did you not speak with Harold? And is he well?"

Blond hair shook as large droplets of tears pooled down her cheeks, "Speak with him! How in blazes am I to speak with him? He's the damn Head of the Department of Mysteries, and has been ordered to follow you! And now, I won't be able to talk with him about you…and…"

"What do you mean ordered to follow me?" Minerva asked interrupting.

"Don't play coy, Minerva, I'm in no mood."

Minerva's brow arched in response, "Did Kingsley order him?" She inquired again.

"Yes." She breathed, as she gasped, "And he can't talk about it." Her face began to turn as her anger again surfaced, "Because of your self-righteous and self-important role you believe you must fulfill against Harkiss; riling upon Shacklebolt…did you not realize the consequences?"

"Consequences?" Minerva rebuked, "What of the my family, my daughter, granddaughter?"

"It's not your responsibility…"

"Then whose is it?" A quiver lacing her now deep brogue, "Albus'? Derrick's? The Ministry's?"

"Let Kingsley do his job."

"Perhaps I should have heeded that notion when Jordon…"

"Minerva," Helena's voice turning hard, "That was a different time…"

The last several weeks of stress, lack of sleep, pressures from the Board, Harkiss, Hogwarts, the Professors – current and past, and her now strained relationship with Hermione in conjunction with the terse conversation with Helena was just too much; and her slipping control…fully slipped. "Because Albus was alive? Or it was your daughter?"

"Who was and is no less important to you than yours are to me, Minerva." Helena gasped out, "But this isn't about them, it's about you."

"Me? Or Harold and this afternoon?"

"Don't turn this…"

"You are the one turning the Minister's order to Harold into more than what it needs to be."

"He has to send Unspeakables, Minerva, Unspeakables. Not the Auror division, but Kingsley has ordered Harold to commit a full detachment for you. Do you realize what that means? To you, Harold…what can and cannot be discussed with my own husband?"

"And what would you have me do? Hole up and forget about Johannes as he kills those I care for and shreds Hogwarts of its magic as he becomes immortal and the Ministry fumbles about and more of my Professors and their families die while the last of my magic wanes and I enjoy time with you and Harold and whoever else happens to be alive."

"Work in conjunction with Kingsley."

"I tried!" Exasperation ringing from Minerva's voice.

"He'll listen now." Helena pleaded.

"I had to threaten to have him removed from his office before he saw past his perception of that Johannes was a threat to more than me. But, now that he has seen the light, I should merely have faith that he'll do the right thing."

"If he has the knowledge, he'll be able to capture Johannes…"

"And if Samantha was at risk…"

"This isn't the same…"

"Would you trust someone else, Helena?"

"The Ministry…"

Minerva interrupted Helena at once, "Would you trust someone else with your child's life? Your grandchild's? Harold's? My children? Grandchildren?"

"It can't always be you."

"In less than a year, it won't be."

Xoxoxo

"While very peculiar, there are some aspects of transfiguration that I do not fully understand and you may wish to clarify with Minerva this evening."

"She hasn't been available since the incident."

Filius smiled, "She just returned this evening after dinner."

"Then she is upon the grounds."

"Yes," Filius continued on, "I believe within her rooms." He paused as if in thought, "Will you not see her for your training this evening?"

All of Hermione's desire to find out what exactly happened to Miss Meaur vanished in that second as her heart stopped at his seemingly innocent query; one that delved into a realm that she had yet to discern the meaning of. "I am not training with her this week." She answered simply, his left brow rising in question.

He stepped closer, voice dropping. "What has happened?"

Hermione began to shake her head and utter, "I am behind in my current plans, the children…"

"Superfluous. The real reason?" He asked, cadence leveling off several octaves lower than normal.

"Those amongst a few others are the real reason." She rebuked.

Gold eyes scanned brown, and he shook his head, "Perhaps that is what you are telling yourself, but that is not the reason."

Hermione felt herself want to tell him that she didn't feel that Minerva trusted her, but resisted the temptation. "She is in her rooms?"

Filius' small hand emerged from his silver robes, lying upon her arm. "Our illustrious Headmistress is not the easiest person to be friends with, Hermione; however, she is the loyalist friend I have ever had the privilege of having." Hermione went to pull away and try to speak, but the diminutive Deputy's grip remained steadfast. "And while she may not always divulge her thoughts, intentions or motives, it is not because she thinks less of you rather that she cares."

His hand slipped from her cyan robes, "She has a peculiar way of showing it."

"That she does."

Xoxoxo

The nature of their conversation soured as the minutes ticked by; years of pent up emotion and feelings that had not been released were being cast at the other. Aspersions and subjectations flew between them as poignantly as their spell work; which both were able to cast with unbridled mastery.

"So what, now it's Harold and my fault that Lily and James died too? You couldn't have saved them too!"

"I couldn't not help Harold."

Helena felt her fury increase, "He would have been fine, he didn't need you!"

"Outnumbered six to one; he would have died and Jordan shortly after. And so would have you!"

"Don't you dare blame me for your choice!" Helena roared.

"It wasn't a choice!" Minerva bellowed.

"And you think today falls in the same category!"

"Yes!"

"Did you even think that perhaps the message was forged!?"

"Of course, but you'd think I'd recognize his writing after five bloody decades! And the way it was delivered…"

"That was my granddaughter!"

"Mine too!"

"She could have died!"

"It was a simple animagus morphing spell!"

"That took a second degree master in Transfiguration to undo; who wasn't you! Because, my best friend, who is one of three fourth degree masters in the world, was missing all damn day!"

"What would you have me do! It was obvious, Harold needed to speak with you; not me!"

"But Samantha…"

"Wasn't in any danger!"

"You, of all people, know that transfiguration can go dreadfully wrong."

"Do you think I would have done anything to harm her?"

"BUT YOU DID!"

A tear slipped down Minerva's cheek, "I MADE A DECISION TO FOLLOW HAROLD'S WISHES!"

"WHICH WAS WRONG!"

A green jet shot from the long mahogany wand toward the Maroon robed witch; and at once her hickory wand spun in defense, the spell deflecting and bathing the room in a pearly glow.

Xoxoxo

Hermione stepped in front of the gargoyle, "Kits Korner." No sooner had the words left her lips and the statue began to grind its way open. At once she stepped in, feeling a margin of apprehension swell within her breast at seeing Minerva this evening. They hadn't truly spoke since yesterday morning; and while not entirely unusual, the sudden divide that seemed to exist between them was nothing short of daunting.

The steps began rotating upwards as Hermione pondered how she would find a way to bridge her perceived growing divide with the elder woman.

Xoxoxo

"WHY?" Minerva flung another two hexes as Helena, "BECAUSE IT WAS YOUR FAMILY?!"

Helena's shield warbled as her body was pushed backwards from the strength of the spell. "IT WAS A LINE, YOU NEVER SHOULD HAVE CROSSED! THERE WERE OTHER WAYS!" She snapped back, her wand mimicking her voice as it arced in a series of quick moves back; and two jets of blue streamed towards Minerva.

Xoxoxo

The steps came to a halt, Hermione already stepping forward about to enter; but stopped at the thunderous voices echoing from the Headmistress' suite. At once, her hand was upon her wand and she thrust open the door.

Anything she had imagined was nothing compared to the stunning, horrific scene before her as her eyes immediately snapped up to the second floor, the balcony area where the raised voices were stemming from. And her heart flat-lined.

The upper part of the floor shimmered white-blue; the force of the spell striking the protego charm and Helena's body was propelled backwards, stumbling…her back crashing into the brass banister as her hands stretched outwards, but it was too late and she was falling over.

Hermione could feel her wand moving, lips forming a spell to cushion Helena's fall and as it shot from her wand towards Helena, and missed. Hermione felt her world stop as Helena's arms became shorter, her legs disappearing as did her maroon robes with silver piping. And Hermione blinked as she stared, disbelieving at the red tailed hawk where Helena had been falling moments before. Wings beating to lift its body upwards, and Hermione's jaw slackened as she saw Minerva running towards the balcony, morphing, paws launching itself off the railing as Minerva's lithe tabby form gracefully stretched outward, crashing into Helena's. Their bodies smashed into a tangled mess as claws and talons tore at the other, a shrill squawk and a chilling wail eschewing forth from Helena and Minerva as feathers and tufts of fur splayed outward. Their bodies rapidly plummeting to the ground, Hermione could do nothing but stare, utterly shell shocked. Their tumbling movement came to a sickening thud of a stop, both animagi rolling away from the other and immediately righting themselves in a predatory manner; Minerva's ears were tipped back flat, fangs prevalent, hair along her shoulders and back upon end, legs poised and ready except for her front left one which was bent slightly and with nominal weight upon it, blood oozing from the shoulder area; the feather's along Helena's neck were unsettled, wings partially stretched out, body leaning more upon her left leg as blood marred her tawny chest as she squawked loudly in defiance.

"STOP!" Hermione yelled, throwing a bolt between them, causing both Minerva and Helena to jerk their angry gaze from the other and upon her. "What in blazes do you think you two are doing?!"

At once, their bodies morphed, both witches having turned and again staring at the other; and Hermione couldn't believe that they were friends. Both women looked, dreadful. Only tattered, shredded remains of their normally pristine robes remained hanging upon their battered bodies. Helena had an obvious wound upon her right hip area, blood saturating her robes, not counting the other minor wounds easily apparent across her arms and back, blond hair wildly out of place, blue eyes burning with unbridled anger, as her jaw rippled and wand seemed to tremble. Minerva appeared to have fared slightly better, overall, but Hermione couldn't be sure; because while she had not been wounded as many times, hers were far more extensive; her left shoulder was torn open, the arm hanging at her side as she clutched her wand tightly in her right hand, crystal green eyes sparkling as half her hair spilled from its usually tight confines framing her face…

Both witches seemed to have waves of magic flowing around them. Helena's was a soft yellow and interjected were sparkles of crimson; Minerva had three colors, primarily that of green, with hints of blue and large swirls of alabaster. It was as if Hermione was seeing their magical signatures; but why were there three colors around Minerva and only two for Helena? The question was quickly forgotten as Minerva moved, and at once Hermione opened her mouth to intervene, but found that no words were at her command as flames seemed to jump from the grate and burst around Minerva, and she was gone in a whiff of smoke, leaving Hermione gapping in utter shock at what she had just witnessed. "What in Merlin's beard happened?"

Helena's body immediately relaxed, pain lining her face as she pulled her eyes from where Minerva had been a moment before to the other occupant in the room. "Nothing a few spells and a bottle of salve won't patch."

Hermione didn't know what she had expected, but those words were not it. She closed her mouth and started again, "Your hip…" Hermione cast a glance to where Minerva had been standing, "Her shoulder, you need treatment and she needs…"

"Her head shrunk another two sizes so it'll fit through a damn door." Helena snapped as she cast a diagnostic spell upon herself.

"What happened between the two of you?" Hermione breathed, still reeling from what she had just born witness to.

"We had a slight," She paused as if searching for the right word, "Discord."

"Discord?" Hermione shook her head, "You looked like you were going to kill each other."

Helena waved off the nonsense, "Poppy cock. Though," She muttered, frowning as she read the results from her spell. "There was a slight desire to go ahead and try." She placed her hand upon her hip, staunching the streaming flow of blood.

"Would you like me to…" Hermione nodded to the gaping wound, "Help you?" She stepped closer, "And what were the two of you on about?"

Her brow arched, crisp English accent lacing her words. "My granddaughter, and how she ended up in St. Mungos."

Hermione stopped moving as she realized who exactly Samantha Meaur was related to, "Samantha…Jordan is your daughter?" Hermione asked, innocence ringing from her cadence, helping to take the sting from Helena's wrath.

"Yes…"

Hermione nodded to the large wound, "Come, let me help you treat…"

"I can do it on my own!" Helena snapped, angry that she had gotten hurt, that she and Minerva had gone from a slight difference of opinion to a downright full scale argument; they hadn't had one that bad decades.

Hermione arched her brow, "No wonder why you and Minerva are such good friends."

Despite everything, Helena couldn't help the small smile from curling the corner of her lips. "She's a damn stubborn woman." She muttered to herself.

"Doesn't appear that you're a peach either."

"It seems as though I'm in good company." She nodded to Hermione, "Because, you remind me of a younger version of Minerva…ohhh…"

"Let me help you."

Helena cast a glance to the fireplace, momentarily thinking of returning home and ask Harold to assist in healing the wound along her hip; it was deep and the tissue would need to be re-knitted; however, that meant hurtful glances shared and little information. What she really wanted to do was talk to Harold about what happened today, but she couldn't and wouldn't be able to until the whole business with his department had ceased. And that could be months, the only reason years didn't come into play was because…Minerva didn't have years. "Could we move to your rooms?" She grimaced, "I don't want to be here when Minerva returns."

Hermione nodded, "Of course," She made to walk towards the gargoyle, but Helena groaned.

"No…" She winced, "I won't be able to walk up five flights of stairs." She turned to Albus. "Is Minerva at the…" The word, Ridge went unsaid, as she met his gaze. "She needs to have her shoulder treated."

Albus nodded, "I believe she will have it tended to."

"Albus…"

He shook his head, "Save it for Minerva."

Hermione watched the proud woman's shoulders sag, "Tell her I'm sorry."

"You can in the morning."

"Please tell her this evening." Helena whispered, "I want her to know…that…"

A tender smile spread across his face, "She already does, dear. Good night, Helena." And his visage vanished from the frame.

"Elgin." She yelled out before Hermione could question her; and at the sudden crack to her left, she turned to see a shaking head lined with white hair.

"I'se not happy with you'se Blonde's…"

"Berate me later, Elgin, will you please take us to Hermione's rooms?" She asked non-pulsed.

Elgin cast a glance from Helena to Hermione, yellow eyes remaining upon the oozing wound. Finally after a poignant pause, he nodded. "I'se takes you."

"Thank you." Helena murmured and then felt a swirl of magic, a burst and she was standing in Hermione's living room.

Hermione blinked, casting a glance about, mildly shocked that Elgin had transported them without touching either one; something she would have to speak with Minerva about later. At once, she turned to Helena, her blood soaking the front of her robes. "Here." She motioned, and her sofa slid across the wood floor, the arm coming to rest against the back of Helena's thigh and she quickly strode across the room. She stepped into her private rooms, the wardrobe snapping open, and she grasped a handful of ointments and tinctures. "I know a few spells that may…"

"I'll walk you through it." Helena muttered, "Do you have any chocolate?"

"Yes." Hermione nodded as she stepped back into the room, already unwrapping a bar. "Here." She handed it to the elder witch. "Is this…" She pointed to the large wound on her hip, "From your duel or your fight?"

"Her damn nails." Helena stated as she adjusted her wand within her hand, "The first spell you'll need to cast is a diagnostic spell. Diagníse. And the wand movement as such." She flicked her wand in a sweeping arc.

For the next half an hour, Helena proceeded to instruct Hermione on how to cast the spells, the wand movements and the pronunciation. They spoke of little else as Helena's strength remained shaky from her continual blood loss. As the last of the wound mended, Helena sighed in relief as the pain finally abated. "Now…" She relaxed fully against the arm of the sofa, her hip able to fully blend. "We just need a good bottle…"

Helena swirled the bronze timbered liquid in her glass still surprised that Hermione had a bottle of Silver Labeled Malt, given to her from Minerva of all people. "Are you sure?"

Hermione gave a nod, "It is best to drink amongst friends, and…" She raised her glass. "You look as though you need a glass of good whisky."

"It has been a long day." Helena conceded as her eyes remained upon Hermione's, while her thoughts drifted to the events from earlier today. Events that upon reflection were astoundingly stunning and truly unbelievable; and all because of…friendship and love. Helena found herself nodding, "Yes…to friends." She brought her gaze back to brown eyes.

They gave each other a small nod in way of a toast, both women taking a healthy swallow from their tumblers. Helena felt the familiar tingle and flavor bursts down her throat as she swallowed, relishing the rich effervescent taste. "I wish Minerva would figure out what made this year of malt so good."

"I'm sure she has tried."

"You're probably right." Helena conceded.

"What makes this year so different from the rest of the Silver Label?" Hermione questioned, enjoying the warmth bursting across her nerves from the large draught already ingested.

Helena leaned back into the sofa, "The rich coating and bubbling…"

"Did gas get sealed into the malt?"

"Minerva swears that the same recipe was followed and has been followed for the last century."

At the mention of Minerva's name, Hermione noted Helena's wistful expression. "What happened between the two of you earlier?" She asked softly.

The fire crackled in the background as time stretched on, Helena remaining quiet and staring into the world beyond as she tried to decide how much to share with the other woman; Hermione taking another sip as she quietly waited. And waited. Hermione curtailed her desire to shift as her right leg began to fall asleep, knowing that it was up to Helena to share in her own time what happened between the two life-long friends. And she had to admit to being rather curious as to what would cause that level of an argument between the two women.

Helena cleared her throat, "I…" She downed the rest of the contents of her glass, "Will ask that you not share this with anyone else, as it is intensely private to both Minerva and myself." She stated, lifting bright blue eyes upwards.

Hermione nodded, her curiosity increasing exponentially at Helena's remark, "Of course."

Helena reached forward, picking up the bottle and poured herself another generous portion of malt before leaning back. "The impetus was this afternoon, as Minerva deliberately transfigured Samantha…"

"What!?" Hermione interjected, "How? When…?" She thought back to her class, the occupants, the lesson. "She wasn't there…there would be no way…and Samantha's wand…"

"Samantha had transfigured the spell appropriately which is why her wand would show as such, because it wasn't her wand that cast the spell that caused Samantha to transfigure."

Hermione was momentarily dumbstruck, "Why on earth would she deliberately mis-transfigure a student? She has always been steadfastly against any type of spells being cast upon students. There must have been a good reason."

At this Helena sighed, heavily. "There was."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "Then why…" Hermione let her question trail off.

"Because, it was Samantha. And…" Helena's gaze flickered to the glass and then to Hermione. "The reason behind it, puts me, Harold, Minerva…" She shook her head, "Even you in one hell of a predicament."

Hermione frowned, not understanding Helena's logic. "I'm not following."

"Kingsley has ordered Harold to send a detachment of the Unspeakables on assignment to monitor and report back to him regarding Minerva's and in conjunction, as you are with her, your movements."

Hermione vaguely heard her own intake of breath, "Unspeakables, as in…"

Helena merely nodded.

"But why have they been dispatched to follow Minerva?"

"I don't know, and…" Her voice broke, "I can't ask Harold."

"Then how did you find out?" And before Helena could answer, Hermione realized. "Samantha."

"He sent word with our house elf to Minerva." Helena's voice was becoming shaky, "And she provided a way for him to leave the Ministry before he charted a new mission and he shared with me…" Her voice broke as a tear slipped down her cheek.

"That he would be sending out Unspeakables to watch Minerva." Hermione finished.

"And I can't talk to him about it…"

"Why?" Hermione questioned.

"He's bound to a vow of silence regarding their missions once they have been chartered."

"What about the information shared at the Order meetings?"

Helena shook her head, "I don't know. We only had minutes together before a Ministry official interrupted us…" She ran a hand through her hair, "Damn Kingsley."

"What did Minerva say?"

A look of chagrin passed over Helena's face, "I…didn't let her talk much. I did tell her about, the Unspeakables…and then…our conversation digressed, quickly."

"There had to have been more to it than that."

"I inferred that Samantha was my granddaughter and that she had placed her in unnecessary risk, and she should let the Ministry take over the situation regarding Johannes and this entire situation never would have happened; including Harold having to send Unspeakables to watch her."

Hermione couldn't believe what Helena had just stated, she stared dumbfounded at the other witch and as she was about to ask her reasoning for why Minerva should trust the Ministry after everything that had happened the past several months; Helena continued on.

"And…" Helena's voice trembling, "It came up about her always being there and that she doesn't always need to be…" Helena paused, closing her eyes as Minerva's words reverberated through her soul. In less than a year, it won't be. A tear slipping off her cheek, "Damn her stubbornness…" She breathed out as another tear followed suit.

"You're worried." Hermione whispered, realizing the reason for Helena's earlier harsh words to Minerva.

"Of course I'm worried, she's…" Helena's throat caught at the word and she found herself modifying it, "Going to get herself killed one time."

At that thought, Hermione found a soft smile curling her lips. "She's too stubborn to let something like that happen."

Helena thought back through the years, including the day Jordan had almost died and how true that statement had always been. And…how true she wished it could still be. "A lot has changed over the years."

"I don't think it's her self confidence."

Helena couldn't stop the chuckle from slipping across her lips if she had wanted to, "Of that, I am certain. Although, having Albus for husband, didn't help matters; they both always exude that quiet, self assurance and self confidence that denotes everything they do."

"She would say the same thing regarding you and your healing."

Helena felt the ache pull at her chest, the constant pain she had lived with for the past six months as Minerva's condition worsened; and the realization that her best friend would be dead within the year – and she was one of the best healers in the magical world, and there wasn't one thing she could do to forestall the inevitable, except be there for her. And each day that went by, bringing the end nearer, was killing her in equal measure. "She…" Helena paused to take another sip, "Has always put others before herself, and…just once," She glanced up to meet warm brown eyes, "I would like her to put herself first."

"You're worried that she is taxing herself too much? That her health is beginning to wane?"

Helena knew of the conversation that Minerva had shared with Hermione, and also knew that tonight was a not a night to delve into those matters. As they were too close to her own heart and feelings, that she would not be able to maintain the ruse that Minerva had erected. "In part, yes." She answered honestly, but altered the course of the conversation. "However, I asked earlier that you not divulge what we speak of to anyone, because of the personal nature."

Hermione nodded, "You had said…"

"As it deals with an event in our mutual past that altered several lives that night;

and remains a rather tender topic between she and I."

"What night?"

"Hermione, I first met Minerva on the train to Hogwarts; we became great friends. There were five others from our year, we were close to; Lizza Lorraine, Melinda Masterson, Philip Templeton, William Wallace, and David Diggory."

"Wallace, as in Rory…?" Hermione interjected, trying to understand.

"Not familial relation, though according to Rory they are from the same clan." Helena stated, "Only Philip, Minerva and I remain alive; and both Philip and I can attribute our lives to Minerva." Flashes of the bombs falling through London, the way the buildings shook, the rubble, the bloody wizarding duels, "And as much as I hate to admit, she has always been fearless; willing to go where all others fear to tread, often times heedless of the pervasive danger. Which, as I said, I have often wished she would stop doing, as she has almost died more often than I can count. In particular…" Her fingers tightened around the tumbler, matching the strain in her voice. "The evening that Death Eaters went after Jordan."

Hermione sat closer to the edge of her seat; she had been interested before, learning the small tidbits of Minerva's life; but, from Helena's pensive expression, her curiosity and interest increased fifteen fold. "There are no records of injury or attack against Jordan." Hermione stated, recalling the names of the victims and their families by the Death Eaters.

"Nor is there record of a Callum McGonagall having been killed." Helena rebuked before continuing on, "Harold learned that Aegis had learned of where Jordan lived and went to intercede."

"And Minerva joined him?"

"Minerva made a decision to join him, however, later I learned that she choose to help Harold. Rory was with her, and together the three of them saved Jordan."

"What of the death eaters?"

"They killed three of the seven, Aegis Black was one of the wizards although he wasn't captured; according to Harold, Jordan and Rory, the wizard's battle between them was ferocious. Minerva almost lost her right arm in the duel, and was left with a few scars from the encounter. Aegis didn't fair much better."

"I'm sure that it was intense, but I would have thought she would have been thrilled to help save Jordan."

Helena gave a single nod, "She was and is; but…as I said she made a choice. And because of that choice, her godson and his wife died that night."

Hermione frowned, "Who?"

"James and Lily Potter."

The flames to the study roared to life, and Minerva glanced up from her book to see Harold's face peer around the room. "Is Helena with you?"

Minerva frowned, her shoulder still tingling from her recent 'encounter' with Helena; who she had left at Hogwarts, knowing that neither one was in the mood for rational conversation. "I have nah seen her since I left Hogwarts." Worry flooded, her veins at Harold's expression. "She isn't home?"

The flames shook, "No. I sensed a great deal of pain earlier, but it slowly receded. I figured…" His eyes roved over her figure, "You were discussing events from earlier today." He obliquely stated.

"We did, and shall I merely say that feathers and fur will need to be cleaned from my office floor."

He shook his head, "For that I am truly sorry."

"And for the events that passed earlier today to you, you have my apologies." Minerva stated; both knowing full well what could not be said, and yet both extremely thankful for the other's discretion.

"And you mine."

Minerva set the book down as she stood up, "Let me see if Helena remained at the castle, Harold."

"Thank you, Minerva." He rumbled, "For everything."

"And you." She replied seconds before the flames reverted back to their normal color and at once she sunk her hand in to the floo powder, "Hogwarts." Her brogue thick as she snapped her wrist and the flames turned green and in a second, her office spun into view.

"Elgin." She called out as she waved her hand over her robes, the soot from the grate vanishing.

"Mistress." His large yellow eyes were blinking up at her, dismay evident upon his features that she had yet to change her blood stained, torn robes. "You'se needs a new set of robes?"

"Harold stated that Helena did not return this evening."

"No's." His large ears flapped, "She'se went with Professor's Granger and remains at Hogwarts."

"Hermione?" Minerva questioned, making sure she had heard Elgin correctly as she thought back several hours, vaguely recalling Hermione appearing in her office seemingly standing as though lead lined her feet and in shock at her and Helena's slight argument.

"They'se went to Professor's Granger's rooms."

Minerva nodded, "Very well." She swept to the side, and with practiced ease the quill slipped into her fingers and she penned a note, sealing it with her emblem. "Please take this to her, and leave my office open for her to access this evening when she is ready to retire so she does not have to travel to the gates."

Elgin stared at Minerva not understanding the witch, but nodded. "I'se do nots understand why the Mistress is so nice to Blonde's after today."

"Because," Minerva said, tears in her emerald eyes as she met his large ones, "She's my friend Elgin; and there have been days when I have said some less than savory things to her too."

Slowly he nodded, "I thinks I understand."

"And, she's just worried about Harold and I."

"We'se all is worried about you, Mistress." He whispered.

"Remember what I told you Elgin, and…" She leaned over kissing his forehead, "It'll all work out." She stood back up.

"Is the Mistress returning to the Ridge this evening?"

"No." Minerva began walking toward the brass staircase, "I shall remain here, but please do not inform that to anyone and once Helena leaves this evening, I would like to reset the password to the Gargoyle." She murmured as she began ascending the stairs.

"Shall we send out letters this evening after 1am?"

"No." Minerva replied, "It can wait until after breakfast."

Elgin felt his brow crinkle at the Mistress' odd request. Perhaps she needs some time alone. "Very well." He crisply replied before vanishing to deliver her letter to Helena.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed!