Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Harry Potter

AN: Minerva time!

As soon as Albus said the words "The game begins…now," Minerva McGonagall wore a determined expression on her face. She hated to lose.

Although she had warned her house, she wasn't sure about the staff. Slughorn was rather dodgy at times.

I will not lose my temper, Minerva told herself over and over again. She would win this game, no matter how hard the teachers tried to get her to talk.

Albus smiled to himself as he watched Minerva walking around silently. She would have a hard day, not telling off any of the boys in her class. It would be most interesting to watch.

But first, he had a note to write.

Dear Minerva,

I am one you cannot speak to; so do not go asking who I am. You won't find out.

But I am a secret admirer. See if you can string together the clues…

Until that moment,

Secret Admirer

He had changed his writing, for his style was too noticeable.

"Off you go!" he whispered to the little piece of parchment and it flew away to a spot where Minerva would find it.

Maybe she would figure it out, maybe not. Who knows?

The large pink heart on Minerva's shoulder was highly irritating. She knew there was a charm on them to not allow the hearts to be taken off, but she still wanted to. Oops. Minerva realized that she had forgotten to warn her girls about that. Ah, well. If they found out, they found out. She was sure Hermione Granger would. There was not end to that girl's knowledge. There was a scrap of parchment on Minerva's desk when she arrived in her classroom. It was folded up neatly, the creases tight and precise. When the note was opened, the ink was not blurred or hard to read. The letters were blocky, yet flowing at the same time.

She read the not silently to herself, mouthing the words. Minerva gaped at it.

A secret admirer? For her? It couldn't happen. Nobody would want her. She was old and strict and harsh. Who would want someone like that?

The first students of the day arrived. They were girls, thankfully.

"Spread the word," Professor McGonagall said to them. "That we will be reviewing pages 127-145 in your Transfiguration book today. Take notes and read carefully. Then do the spell on page 136 for the rest of the period. If you perfect that, come see me."

Just when she finished, boys came in. Minerva tightly closed her mouth. The lines around it seemed to be deeper than usual.

The same thought kept running through her head. Who would want me?

Before her second class, Minerva took a short walk around the grounds. At the Quidditch Pitch, she saw another scrap of parchment fluttering in the wind. She grabbed at it eagerly, hoping nobody could see her.

Dear Minerva,

I know you think that you are old and stern, but my ways of thinking are different than yours.

Beauty does not live only in the young, Minerva. Sometimes it hides in the not-so-young, waiting for the right moment to pop out and shine.

Forever,

Secret Admirer

Minerva sighed. It was terribly romantic.

But that line, my ways of thinking are different than yours, could mean many things. Snape, for instance, had a very different style of teaching than she did.

Snape.

Please, no, she thought anxiously. Anything but Snape.

He was foul, greasy and slimy. He favored his own students, like that Malfoy.

She shuddered.

Anything but Snape.

Albus watched in amusement as Minerva snatched at the parchment floating in the wind. She wasn't going to stay out for much longer; her next class started soon.

Minerva realized that at too. She hurried back into the comfort of the castle, to ponder upon who her admirer could be.

hr

Fortunately, the first students to arrive in her second class were also of the female gender. This was her fourth year class.

"Review pages 493-567," she ordered. "If you finish, practice Switching Spells with these." She gestured to the cacti to her right. Again, the boys came soon after, and she shut her mouth.

Most of the lesson was spent in a daze. Who could her admirer be? She wanted to know desperately. Minerva hated not knowing things. She was rather like Miss Granger in that respect.

A rather nasty thought came into her head. What if it was a female teacher? Or student?

Not that couldn't be right, she reassured herself. It said, I am one you cannot speak to…

Thank Merlin.

This day was turning out to be more mysterious than Minerva expected.

Yes, short chapter, but quick update for me. I might write one more after this. I am going to concentrate on this story for a bit, so I can finish it.

Next… probably Ginny.