A/N: Well, I know, you are just dying to find out, where Minerva has gone to. So, since I am a nice person, I'm telling you. As for the sonar-thingy…I don't know, if it really exists, just pretend it does.

Chapter 24 – Lift us up, where we belong

Minerva McGonagall felt odd. Really odd. This was the second time she had managed to transform herself into an owl. This time, however, she had to fly. And she wasn't exactly used to holding herself up in the air just by fledging her arms … wings. And though she couldn't smell as well as when she was a cat, she was still quickly becoming dizzy. This… this… what did the Muggles call it, sonar, was highly irritating.

In short: Minerva was not comfortable. Seeing and hearing Uray frantically looking for her, weighed heavily on her conscience. But she had to do what she was about to do. There was simply no choice.

She saw Charlie and then Bill coming back and heard her brother voicing his opinion. It tore her heart and Uray's prioritising didn't sound promising, but they were beyond the point of those worries.

Once the men were gone, a quiet screech on her left urged Minerva to move forward. She moved her arms, no wings, nervously. Staying in place was one thing, but moving and navigating at the same time, was a different thing all together.

With a little effort, she managed to get herself into a forward movement and the group of five owls, including the animagus, took off to make its way upwards. Flying through the halls and passages they came closer to the apartments of the Minister of Magic.

Strangely enough, nobody saw them. Otherwise the purposely flying group might have raised suspicion. The only wizard they encountered on their way was Severus Snape, which surprised Minerva greatly. But with a last glimpse, she caught him embracing Melina. She couldn't exactly see how this had happened, but if owls had been able to grin, Minerva would have done it.

Unfortunately, she had neither the time nor the nerve for it. The muscles in her arms, no darn it, wings, were getting more and more tired. Usually, Minerva prided herself on being very fit for her age. She could actually outrace Xiomara any day, but by now she had to fight to keep up her place in the group. Twice already, had she lost considerable height. She prayed to all deities that her strength wouldn't give way and that she wouldn't hit the ground at one point.

Her feathered companions seemed to sense her weakness, for they suddenly regrouped: One behind her, one on each side and one under her, almost carrying her weight. Minerva felt this with a deep sense of gratefulness.

Finally, they reached the hall leading to the Minister's apartment. To Minerva's surprise no guards were on duty. This was a bizarre occurrence. Even in the peaceful times of her father's term, there had always been at least four guards around him. And now?

Was this some sort of public declaration that with the "new peace" guards were unnecessary? Were these Albus' orders? It would be like him to refuse security measures for his person, and under different circumstances, Minerva would have readily agreed. But all news said that Albus wasn't acting himself.

Of course, there was always the option that this was a trap. But Minerva wasn't – couldn't be sure. Nevertheless, she would go in there. She had to meet Albus, come what may. What consequences it would have didn't matter. She had to see her love again, even if it was the last thing done in her life.

Before the door, Minerva transformed back into her human form. It wasn't as easy as all the transformations she had made in the last almost 60 years, but it didn't matter anymore. She was dead tired, her head was spinning and her limbs hurt like hell, but that didn't matter anymore either. The only thing that mattered right now was getting inside of the apartment.

She was certain that a simple "Alohomora" would not open the heavy mahogany door. Probably there was a password needed. But since she had no chance of obtaining it, every possible and impossible unlocking spell was to be tested.

Naturally, none worked and Minerva was getting more impatient by the second. A soft hoot from her side nearly made her heart stop. The woman shot around in terror and saw a house-elf carrying a tray with a mug coming up the floor.

Caught in a frenzy, Minerva searched for a hiding place and found it in a pillar nearby. With two quick steps she hid in its shadow. Trying to press herself even deeper into the shadow, she fought to calm her laboured breathing and hammering heart.

The house-elf's large ears pricked at some sounds and Minerva's heart rate sped up.

Some tense moments flew by, but then the tiny creature turned to the door and squeaked out the password: "Ischia!" The door swung silently inward and swallowed the elf, the tray and the scent of hot chocolate.

The witch in the shadow felt tears welling up in her eyes.

Only a minute later the house-elf reappeared with the still full mug and hurried down the corridor and out of sight.

Now Minerva didn't waste any more time, stepped out of the shadow and after uttering the password went into the dark apartment.

*

Inside, it was eerily silent. Under different circumstances, Minerva probably would have considered the atmosphere peaceful, but with the constant fear of capture, it just made her uneasy. She quickly crossed the entrance hall, only alight with two flickering torches.

The living room she checked only shortly. The fact that the elf had returned with a full mug of hot chocolate indicated that the owner of the apartment was not up. Albus would never pass up a mug, if he could help it. Logic demanded therefore that he was asleep. Thus, Minerva went straight for the bedroom.

The room was dark, save for the merrily crackling fire. It took Minerva few seconds to make out more than simple silhouettes. Looking around, she was impressed. Though her father had occupied this apartment during his term as Minister, she had never actually seen the whole suite. It was an impressive place. The mahogany of the entrance door went on inside. The drapes and coverings were of a rich and heavy material in burgundy colors.

A tiny smile crossed her face. A remarkable place. Definitely an Albus-place, if there would have been more of his personal belongings.

Thinking of Albus drew her gaze inevitably to the bed. The figure under the covers was easily recognisable as Albus Dumbledore and for some odd reason, the witch felt her heart swell with happiness. It was almost like coming home from a long business trip. Only that this time she had taken the trip.

Just being in the same room with him could make her feel being surrounded with love.

Minerva smiled. No, that would never change. Being near Albus would always make her heart burst with love. No matter what they did to her or to him, this would remain.

She tentatively stepped closer, her focus completely on the sleeping man in the bed. A crack in the hearth stopped her cold and her body went rigid. When nothing more happened and Albus didn't even change his breathing pattern, she relaxed. Her securing glance around the room reminded Minerva once again that this chamber, just like the living room, was extremely neat and impersonal.

Not at all like a place Albus lived. After all, his tendency for messiness and chaos had exasperated her more than once in the last 25 years. But the whole apartment looked as if its inhabitant was only a short-time guest. Strange, really.

Her mind, however, returned quickly back to Albus. Minerva battled with herself on whether she should wake him. But all thoughts flew away, once she stood beside the bed and looked down on him.

Her heart tightened in pain and love. His dear face relaxed in deep slumber, his lips slightly parted, he was a picture of innocence. Minerva had to look away not to be overwhelmed by her feelings. Not to bend down and kiss him. Not to climb into the bed and snuggle up to him – consequences be damned.

It was a big effort for her to hold herself together and look away. Finally, her gaze fell on the nightstand and involuntarily a desperate cry escaped her lips.

The full implication of the sight before her brought her down on her knees, and having lost all control, Minerva knelt on the floor shaking with silent, but heavy sobs.

~~

Comments:

Spoiledthoughts: I'm not telling. You'll have to read further.

Palanfanaiel: Wow…does that mean, I'm striving for 4 'o's now? Thank you so much.

LinZE: Any time, dear niece. Any time…

Liz O'Brien: Pickles? Yumyum. Just kidding…anyway, does that answer your question?

Hermione Gardiner: Well, obviously, she did.

Jestana: Wow, you definitely threw me for a loop here…but anyway, I don't know, why you suspected this. Oh my God…am I that transparent?

Finally, thanks to you all for reviewing…and to all, who read, but didn't review (Shame on you!), please do so…