I do not own Harry Potter. Thank you JK Rowling for these beautiful characters.

"With all due respect sir, I've only worked here for two years," Minerva McGonagall said modestly, tapping her fingers nervously against her thighs. Her wand lay flat across her tartan skirt and despite her uncertainty, she bit back a small smile as she thinned her lips and tried to disguise the elation she was feeling from his generous praise.

"And with all due respect to you, my dear, I've asked you not to call me that," Elphinstone Urquart smiled grandly at her from across the large wooden desk that was buried under a mess of books and parchment.

The office of the head of magical law enforcement never ceased to annoy Minerva, who didn't understand how her boss managed to ever find anything in here. Minerva liked things to be kept orderly and neat. Her own station was always cleared off before she went home to her London flat at night. Yet, despite their different styles, she and Mr. Urquart had worked extremely well together since she had joined the Ministry of Magic upon her graduation from Hogwarts.

"Alright then, Elphinstone," Minerva gave in. "I still don't see why you're offering this promotion to me."

"Because you deserve it," Elphinstone said simply. "You're clever and driven. You're always willing to stay late or come in early when it's needed. You're a dedicated and gifted employee, Minerva, but even more than that - I like you. When I retire, you'll be my first choice to take over as head of department."

"There's a number of witches and wizards just outside the door who would have my head if they heard you talking like that," Minerva warned him, picking up her wand and balancing it between both her index fingers.

"And that bothers you?" Elphinstone smiled.

"Not really," Minerva admitted, with a twitch of her lips. "I'm just saying…I'm the youngest one here with the least amount of experience. I'm very flattered, but to be honest I'm not sure I want to work here forever."

Elphinstone raised his eyebrows and looked surprised. "If you'd rather have a different position, I'd be more than willing to give you a reference. I'd be sad to lose you but -"

"No," Minerva shook her head. "I'm just not sure that any of this is right for me - the Ministry, I mean. I miss Scotland. I miss my family. To be honest with you, Elphi, these past two years have been the loneliest I've ever felt in my life. Perhaps I wouldn't be quite as devoted to this job if I had anything else going on. As it is, seeing you every morning is the only bright spot in my day."

Her eyes widened slightly at her confession and her wand slipped from between her fingers and landed on her lap. Minerva McGonagall was normally not so forthcoming about her feelings. She was reserved and tended towards the serious side, but she was exceedingly fond of the man who had taken her under his wing from the start of her career and trusted him immensely. Despite being much older than her, Elphinstone was the closest thing Minerva had to a friend in this city, but she had never confided in him before about how much she was struggling. Nobody knew how unhappy she truly was.

"Minerva, you can talk to me," Elphinstone said gently. "About anything."

"Thank you, sir…Elphinstone - I," she looked him in the eye and nodded curtly. "Thank you…could I have some time to decide about the promotion?"

"Of course," Elphinstone replied. "Let me know by next week. Perhaps you'd like to use some of your holiday leave to go back home for a few days? I think you're the only one in this office who hasn't been off yet this year."

"Nobody wanted to cover," Minerva sniffed disapprovingly. "I wasn't about to leave you without adequate staffing."

"That's why you're the best," Elphinstone said, rising from his chair and walking around the desk to her side. "I've given you a lot to think about," he said, taking her hand to pull her to her feet. "Go see your family…your boyfriend?"

He broke off questioningly, causing Minerva to scoff at him indignantly and shake her head. Elphinstone smiled. "I hope after some time away you'll realize how much you want to be here. You've got so much promise. This will be a good life for you."

Only it wasn't the life that Minerva dreamed of. What she wanted - what she longed for every night when she lay in bed alone in her tiny flat and fought back tears - was completely unattainable. It shouldn't have to be this way. What was the point of falling in love if it could never be yours? It probably would have been a kindness to herself if she had never met Dougal McGregor. It would have saved her so much persistent grief that had not dimmed in the least since she'd last seen him three days before she'd moved to London.

Minerva had never confessed this heartbreak to anyone. She knew that any advice or consolation she received from well-meaning people would only make her feel worse. She had no patience to listen to romantics insist that love could endure anything - she had seen first hand what price her parents had paid for their own mixed-marriage between a muggle and a witch. If Minerva couldn't practice her magic anymore, she wouldn't be her, so locking her wand up underneath her bed for the sake of true love was out of the question. She refused to become her own mother, but that didn't stop her from pining for Dougal every single time he crossed her mind - which was more often than not.

The thought of him marrying someone else made Minerva want to abandon her resolve and cling to him, but she knew that she couldn't. Dougal would find a nice pretty lady to make his wife eventually - perhaps he already had. They would settle down on the farm Dougal was to take over from his father and probably be blessed with many children in a wholesome picture that had become the stuff of Minerva's nightmares.

She would never have those things and the reality of that still made her sad. All Minerva had was her work and even that wasn't fulfilling her like she'd hoped. More of a rule follower than a free spirit, she had to determine whether to continue climbing the ladder at the Ministry or set her sights somewhere else more uncertain. Believing in Elphinstone's words when he'd called her clever, driven, and gifted, Minerva knew wherever she went, she'd land on her feet somehow. Things would turn out alright. Or at least they'd be good enough.