A/N: Updated as of April 2021. Everything after this will be brand new!

For disclaimer, please see the prologue.

Chapter Ten: April 7, 1942

Minerva had decided to stay at Hogwarts over Easter. While not as many students left as if for Christmas, a few chose to leave if their families lived nearby. She had thought about going, but between marking for Dumbledore, studying for the OWLs, Quidditch, and her Prefect duties, it made a lot more sense to stay at the school. Charlotte had gone on a Hogsmeade trip with her parents, so Aidan was back to his usual, unattached self. They were studying together where possible, but he was more interested in treating the long weekend as a holiday.

"McGonagall. We've gone over substantive charms three times this morning alone. I'm not quizzing you anymore," Aidan declared, slamming the textbook shut, the noise echoing throughout the Great Hall. "Honestly, they're not for another two months. You've gone mental, truly."

"I have not gone mental," Minerva snapped, grabbing the textbook from him. "I'm just aware that Quidditch training will become more rigorous the closer we get to the Cup final, which happens to be near the examination period. And I'm positive that all of the extra stress is just going to cause more problems that we'll have to solve."

"I don't see why I have to solve other people's problems, McG," Aidan slurped from his water goblet.

"Because we're Prefects, you bloody idiot," Minerva shook her head. "You make my job so much harder than it needs to be."

"Woah, now you're wrong. As Prefects, we help guide others so they can solve their own problems. We facilitate problem-solving. Personally, I don't solve anyone's problems. I've got enough of my own, thanks." He smirked, seeing Minerva's shocked face. "What, did you think I hadn't read that pamphlet they handed out with the badge? Of course I did. You're always so surprised when I manage to do something right."

"Probably because it rarely happens," Minerva retorted airily, her wit not quite recovering from being shocked into a stupor. "Speaking of doing something right, have you signed up for a time to talk to Dumbledore yet?"

"For that career counselling session? Yea, I'm seeing him next Monday. Not sure why it's worth it, though," Aidan snorted. "If you want to be an Auror, there's no room for failure. So basically, I'm screwed unless I get an Outstanding on everything."

"And you think I'm crazy for studying early?"

"I'll study, McGonagall. A month early, maybe. Two months is too much, even for you. You're going to run yourself into the ground, eh?" Aidan shook his head at his friend. "When are you going to see Dumbledore?"

"Friday," Minerva said, pushing her potatoes around on her plate. "I'm nervous."

Aidan laughed heartily. "You're the last person that should be nervous. You have perfect grades. Literally. 100% on everything since first-year."

"Not everything," Minerva countered.

"Right, sorry. Barring the 95 in Divination, which you claimed didn't matter because it was for those who lacked logical sense, was it?" He smirked when Minerva huffed. "Seriously, McG, stop being surprised by my amazing memory. You're not making yourself look very good," Aidan paused, considering the look on her face. "Woah, you actually do look nervous. Why? Wait, I can't remember what you want to do...what was it again?"

"You can't remember because I never told you," she quipped. "It's private."

"Private? Since when are things between us private?" Aidan gaped. "McG, we don't have any secrets. At all. You walked in on me, half-naked in my room. Twice."

"It's hardly my fault that you were running late to our midterm, and I wanted to make sure you were up," Minerva said defensively. "And the second time I had to go up to make sure those second-years were okay, and I wanted to know why you weren't handling it!"

"And you sure saw more than you bargained for," he grinned as she reddened. Minerva had discovered him and Charlotte in a position that she had never, ever needed to see Aidan in. He had teased her for weeks.

"Yes, well," Minerva grumbled. "If you could just take care of yourself, we wouldn't have this problem."

"And what problem would that be, Miss McGonagall?" Aidan and Minerva both choked on their food when they heard Dumbledore's voice.

"Oh, I just keep forgetting when my patrol duty is, sir," Aidan lied cheerily, winking at Minerva. "I'd be just useless here without McG. Good thing you paired me with her!"

"Glad to hear you're pleased with the arrangement, Mr. Scrimgeour," Dumbledore said, amused. "Miss McGonagall, if I may have a word?"

"Yea, of course," she stood up, following him out of the Great Hall. "Is everything alright, Professor?"

"I'm afraid I've had more demands on my time come up, and I shall have to be away from Hogwarts on Friday, which necessitates rescheduling your career session. I was hoping that you might be agreeable to holding the session during our regular meeting on Thursday," Dumbledore informed her. Since the winter, they had met every Thursday like clockwork. Minerva would do some grading for him while he performed Deputy Headmaster business, and then he would help her study for her exams. It was working out very well, and she enjoyed the extra opportunity to learn. "I apologize for having to uproot the schedule, but I do think you'll succeed at your OWLs with a week moratorium."

"It's not my lessons I'm worried about; rather, it's your poor students who will have to do without their essays for another week," Minerva teased. They had become accustomed to each other over the past few months, and she loved that she was allowed to test him a bit. She was rewarded with a shocked look on his face. "It's perfectly fine, Professor. I appreciate you still making the time."

"While I'm happy to do so, it is also part of my job as your Head of House to ensure that you have a career path, so to speak," he smiled down at her. "I'm sorry to have interrupted your lunch." He walked down the corridor, and Minerva headed back into the Great Hall, intent on forcing Aidan to study with her before her Quidditch practice.

Thursday came too soon for Minerva. She was anxious about her career meeting, not knowing how Dumbledore would react to her career choice. He was sure to be shocked, she thought, but she honestly just wanted him to tell her that she wasn't out of her mind for considering it in the first place. After dinner, Minerva headed to his office, the walk becoming more routine at this point. She rounded the corner and stopped, experiencing far too much déjà vu for her liking.

In front of Dumbledore's door, Professor Carter seemed to be arguing with the man himself, although blessedly in hushed tones this time. Minerva took extra care to stomp her boots along the stone floor. She didn't relish a repeat of November.

"You're a fool, Albus. A damn fool," Carter spun out of the office, nearly knocking into Minerva. "Oh, I am sorry, Miss McGonagall. I don't mean to make a habit of running you over."

"Yes, well," Minerva sidestepped the Defence teacher. "You didn't hit me, this time. All's well that ends well. Have a good night, Professor." She nodded past Professor Carter and headed straight into the office, shutting the door behind her. "Now, Professor Dumbledore, have we built enough of a rapport that I can ask you why you're a fool?"

Dumbledore snorted, something so unlike him that Minerva's eyes widened, just a smidge. "No, you may not, Miss McGonagall. However, I will impart some advice upon you: don't ever date a colleague. And if you somehow end up teaching, never date a fellow professor. Sharing living quarters and office space is hell when a relationship runs its course." He Summoned a tea set from the cupboard, setting it on the desk.

"Duly noted," Minerva muttered under her breath, sitting down in her usual chair and pouring her tea. "I'll file that away."

"As you should. Now, I believe we have some career counselling to get to!" Dumbledore clapped his hands excitedly. "I'm very interested in what our best student has in mind for her future."

Minerva knew she had to just come right out with it. "I thought about teaching, Professor. Teaching here at Hogwarts, actually."

To her surprise, Dumbledore seemed to expect her answer, teasing her gently. "Being Prefect hasn't convinced you otherwise? You must really want to teach if you're willing to police amorous students for the rest of your career."

Minerva blushed. "Professor, I've actually enjoyed marking your essays these past few months. The bad ones are God-awful, and often make me want to glue my eyelids shut, quite frankly, but it's fun to see how some of the students have gotten better. I feel like I've learned more because I've seen the way their minds work."

Dumbledore beamed at her. "I'll admit, that is one of the benefits to this position. Moulding minds and watching them grow on their own is a spectacular feeling. It's what I love most."

"Is that why I do all the grading for you?" Minerva quipped, smiling over her teacup.

"You hit the nail on the head, Miss McGonagall," he laughed. "While it can be fascinating to see the imagination of our students or the brilliance of some of our older years," he nodded in Minerva's direction, "it can be rather horrifying to read the essays of students who simply don't have neither the aptitude to do well nor the desire to try."

"I think that's what's so fascinating, Professor," Minerva spoke, her eyes lighting up. "You can see students' progression, see what they care about. You get to invest in people."

"That you do," Dumbledore mused. "Why did you think I would be surprised?"

"Caught on to that, did you?" Minerva groaned. "I just, well...I know Slughorn -sorry, Professor Slughorn," she corrected herself when he coughed mildly, "has some grandiose aspirations for me, whether it's playing Quidditch professionally or becoming Minister for Magic. Same with Professors Johnson and Carter," she added, wincing at having to mention the Defence professor.

"Miss McGonagall, all we can hope is that our students go out into the world and do something they love and try to serve the world with that passion. You have many talents, and I've no doubt that you could do anything you wish. Some professors are here because they tried life outside of Hogwarts and didn't like it. Or," Dumbledore hesitated slightly, "they couldn't get where they wanted in their chosen careers. The rest of us are here because it's the only place we've ever felt we truly belonged."

"That's just it," Minerva relaxed, happy that he understood her. "I don't want power or glory or fame and fortune. I don't ever want any of it. I want to study and learn and grow and help others do the same. Also," she confessed, "I find that as Prefect, I rather like bossing people around and keeping everyone in line."

Dumbledore chuckled deeply, the sound reverberating around the room. "There's a different kind of power that comes with the role, it's true. What subject would you want to teach?"

"Transfiguration," she said confidently.

"After my job already?" Dumbledore arched an eyebrow. "Well, you'll need an Outstanding on your OWL, which I have no doubt you'll achieve. You'll also need the same score on your NEWT. Usually, you need two other Outstanding scores on your NEWTs to prove that you're academically well-rounded and that you'll be able to aid your students if necessary. You can choose to pursue a Transfiguration mastery, but that's not required."

"You have one," Minerva said pointedly.

"Yes, I do," Dumbledore conceded. "I spent a couple of years studying here and abroad, and then I came back to teach."

"So I should aim to get my mastery," Minerva said decisively. "If, as you said, I want your job."

"Touché," Dumbledore replied. "If you're interested in getting your mastery done more quickly, there are fast-track options that would see you back in the classroom sooner."

"Oh?"

"It is a well-kept secret that for every mastery, there are certain loopholes, shall we say. For example, if you can successfully create a new plant species, you only have to do a one-year mastery in Herbology instead of the full two years. It's about balancing education with raw talent and experience," Dumbledore informed her. "For Transfiguration, the fast-track option requires you to have a successful Animagus transformation. If you do that, you won't have to complete as many theory courses."

Minerva narrowed her eyes. "You're not a registered Animagus, Professor."

"No, I am not."

"Are you an Animagus, Professor?"

"Are you suggesting I would break the law, Miss McGonagall?" Dumbledore queried back.

"No," she exhaled. "I'm rather suggesting that you teach me to become an Animagus."

"Miss McGonagall-"

"Listen," Minerva interrupted impatiently. "I have no desire to do anything else with my life. Nothing. For all of my so-called talents, I know that all I want to do is teach. I am willing to do whatever is necessary to be able to do that sooner. Besides," she shrugged, "being an Animagus isn't a punishment. It actually sounds like a fun party trick. As your student, I'm asking for your help in achieving my career goals."

Dumbledore closed his eyes, knowing very well by now how his student's mind worked. "And if I said no?"

"I'd figure out a way to do it on my own," Minerva smiled winningly. "I am Callum's sister, after all. I must have a penchant for mischief inside me somewhere."

"I won't consider teaching you before your final year," Dumbledore said, with an air of finality.

"Professor, that's not an intelligent decision," Minerva countered, and he was grudgingly impressed to see that she wasn't backing down. "If something were to go wrong, I want to have as much time as I can to fix it. If we start in September, we have two full years to perfect the process. Furthermore," she argued, her tone becoming slightly professorial, "I don't want the process to take away from my NEWT preparation. I'm a year older than most in my year, anyway, so you don't have to worry about any legalities. I'll be seventeen in October."

Dumbledore considered the student before him. She was more intelligent than anyone he had ever taught; in all honesty, she was smarter than almost everyone he knew, regardless of age. Minerva could balance her life, more than most, and he knew she would accomplish the goal with aplomb. "Miss McGonagall, you've set out quite the argument. I will consent to teach you next year if you meet certain conditions. Firstly, you need an 'Outstanding' on both your Transfiguration and Potions OWLs. Secondly, you must agree to do everything that I say, even if that means we have to discontinue the lessons if I believe it to be detrimental to your well-being or dangerous. Finally," he sighed, "we will not start until after your seventeenth birthday."

"Professor Dumbledore," Minerva grinned, knowing she had won. "You've got yourself a deal."