7 July 1952

"Minerva!" called Isobel.

Minerva looked up from the letter she was writing. Her quill was paused in mid-air, a little droplet of ink dripping slowly but steadily down the nib. Holding her breath she closed her eyes and hoped that her mum would give up and stop calling her.

"Minerva McGonagall I know you can hear me!"

Minerva sighed and put her quill down on her desk. Screwing her ink bottle shut and neatly folding her letter, she hurriedly stood up and left her room.

Isobel was standing at the foot of the staircase, her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

"I knew you were ignoring me," she said. Then, her expression softening, she continued. "Could you go down to the market for me please?" Minerva grimaced. "Please sweetheart," pleaded Isobel. "It shouldn't take long."

Deciding that if she did go to the market she would be able to post her letter to Pomona, Minerva nodded. "Fine. What is it we need?"

"The list is on the counter by the fruit bowl," said Isobel, already walking back down the hallway. "If you hurry the confectionary stall might still be open!"

A small smile spread across Minerva's lips as she walked back up the stairs; she knew Mum had been craving the small caramels Robert and Malcolm had eaten last week. "I'll be as quick as I can then," she called.

Hurrying to her bedroom, she grabbed a small cardigan, a bag and an envelope on which she scrawled Pomona's address and inserted the neatly folded letter on her desk. Placing the letter securely in her bag, she went back downstairs to the kitchen.

"Thank you, darling," said Isobel. "Anyway, the fresh air might even do you some good."

Minerva rolled her eyes at her mum but smiled all the same. "Maybe." Then, grabbing the shopping list she gave her mum one last smile before opening the door, stepping outside, and closing the door again.

A rush of warm air enveloped her as soon as she stepped outside. Breathing in deeply she smiled as she felt the small breeze tickle her face and heard the birds chirp from the trees above. Truth be told, she was quite happy to be back in Caithness where things were peaceful, quiet and simple. Hogwarts was always full of excitement and always kept you on your toes. However, the peacefulness of the Scottish moors was welcome after the tough NEWT year she had just survived.

The stroll towards the village was calm and peaceful and as Minerva strode along the small dirt path, she grudgingly had to admit that she was happy to be out of the house and free of her cramped, dark room. She had missed the calm mornings of walking down the market and buying food without the constant fear of being catapulted with snowballs by her brothers like she had been in Hogsmeade. Furthermore, the sound of the large fountain which stood grandly in the middle of the square promoted this sense of calm and normality which Minerva had so missed.

As she neared the individual stalls, Minerva checked the list her mother had given her and started to make her way around the tables laden with vegetables, fruits, and other foods. She greeted many of the villagers with a small nod of the head a smile or sometimes a 'good morning' however, Minerva mostly kept to herself. She had not been down to the village for several years and many of the people gathered around the stands were now complete strangers to her.

Finally having successfully ticked off all of the things on her mother's list as well as having posted her letter to the Pomona, Minerva started to make her way home. However, she had only taken two steps when a man suddenly walked into her. Stumbling backwards and tripping on a loose cobblestone, Minerva would have fallen straight into the water fountain if the man hadn't caught her hand.

"You don't want to go falling in there," he said. "Especially not on such fine a day!"

Minerva allowed herself to be pulled back upright by the man. However, as soon as she was standing again, she pulled her hand away.

"If you had been looking where you were going then I would not have nearly fallen in!" she retorted.

"Aye, but if I hadn't caught you, you would definitely have fallen in."

Minerva was about to reply but stopped in her tracks when she finally looked up into the man's face. He could not have been any older than she was. He had a mop of curly, sandy blond hair and light blue eyes which were sparkling with amusement. He smiled at her and his tanned skin crinkled around his eyes.

Finally finding her voice, Minerva crossed her arms. "Either way, you should be more careful in the future."

The boy chuckled. "Point taken, Miss. I honestly meant no harm."

Minerva looked down at her feet a little embarrassed. "It's all right. I don't think I was paying much attention either"

He shrugged and smiled at her making Minerva's stomach twist. "I don't see you much around here," he said conversationally.

"I was at a boarding school for seven years," explained Minerva. "I finished my final year last week. I'm staying with my parents for the summer."

"Only for the summer?"

A small smile spread across Minerva's mouth, however, she looked away so that he couldn't see. "Those are my plans so far," she said nonchalantly. "How about you?"

"My plans? I'm helping my old man with the farm at the moment. If you look between those trees, you will just about see it."

He pointed to a small house in the distance and Minerva nodded, realising that she had been waking up to the sight of that particular farm every day since she was a girl. The house was just about visible through her bedroom window.

"I realise I don't know your name," said the young man, interrupting Minerva's thoughts.

"And I yours," replied Minerva, looking back at him.

"Dougal McGregor," said the boy, extending a hand.

"Minerva McGonagall," answered Minerva, shaking his hand. "And I really ought to be off, my mother will be expecting me soon."

Dougal smiled, "Well then, I won't keep you any longer Minerva McGonagall. Is there any chance I'll see you again?"

Minerva shrugged, "Maybe."

Dougal smiled. Bending down he handed back the shopping bag she had dropped when she had tripped. Minerva thanked him and left. It was only when she knew he was no longer looking that she turned around and watched the farmer boy continue his errands. Smiling she turned back around and walked back to the McGonagall manse, grateful that her mother had forced her out of the house after all.