"Professor?" Minerva called into the darkness of Albus' summer home. "I'm sorry to wake you, Professor, but I have to talk with you! Hogwarts is in danger!"

No answer greeted Minerva's ears. Albus must still have been asleep. He was probably a heavy sleeper. It did fit with his personality. An image of Albus snoring peacefully under his plum colored sheets as a small silver whistle blared obstinately in his ear appeared in Minerva's mind at the thought. If the situation had not been so grave, she would have laughed it was so ridiculous. As it was, she did not.

Feeling like quite the intruder, but not letting it slow her movements in the least, she moved through his living room. She brushed quickly past the green sofa and up the stairs towards his bedroom. The silliest bit of embarrassed apprehension filled Minerva. She may have been close to Albus, but they were still most definitely teacher and pupil, no matter how she might feel about him. This being the case, the idea of entering his private domain while he was using them grated against her sense of propriety. This was quickly and quite resolutely pushed aside, however. There were far more important things at hand than silly things such as that. Such things were strong instincts in her but there were others that were far stronger and she was no fool.

It was a small concession to her sense of propriety that she paused for a moment to rap urgently on his bedroom door. A few seconds wasted on knocking put her back very little. Simply barging on something that could possibly be embarrassing for both parties was the sort of the things that could cost them minutes that they simply did not have.

No sound issued from within the bedroom to answer her knock. Not even Fawkes woke to give her a response. There was simply silence.

With a warm-hearted amusement the thought lazy Phoenix flitted across her mind as she sucked in a quick breath and wasted no more of her precious time and walked straight into Albus' bedroom.

Albus was not where he should have been. He was not asleep in his bed. He was not in his bedroom at all. The bed was, in fact, made and Fawkes, as well as his golden perch, was gone as well.

Panic filled Minerva.

My God, where is he? she thought frantically. He was the one she knew to go to for this. He was the one she knew could save Hogwarts now that her father was dead and she had no idea where he was.

He was not at all where she'd thought—where she'd automatically assumed—he'd be, and as the precious seconds fell away like so many grains of sand in an hourglass Minerva found herself frozen in indecision. Where could he be?

Though most of the world would never know it, they were quite lucky that a state of such indecision was not one Minerva to staying in. The wheels in her head simply turned too quickly and her spirit was one of far too much determination for such things. Her mind quickly moved through the possibilities of where Albus could be and how to find out such things.

Hogwarts, she thought suddenly, the answer coming to her like a flash of brilliant lightning. He's at Hogwarts. He told me before summer vacation that he had some work he still needed to finish. He must be staying at Hogwarts for the night to complete it.

It was no more than half a second later that ful impact of what this meant hit her. Albus was at the school. He was right at the place that was about to be attacked, likely sleeping comfortably in his bed and completely unaware of the danger he was in. Most people would have rejoiced at the idea that the person needed to defeat the threat was right where he needed to be, but Minerva, more emotionally attached to him than she cared to be but still attached none the less, felt as though her heart had suddenly frozen in her chest. It had completely stopped and was gripped with an icy cold. She could have vomited from her sudden worry.

It was instinct more than anything else that propelled her down the stairs and back towards Albus' fireplace. She would not lose two people in the course of one night to the same evil. She simply refused. She had to reach Albus. There was simply no question about it.

She threw her arm forward and pointed it at the fireplace yelling an incantation. Fire spewed forth from the thin piece of ebony and began roaring soundly in the fireplace. Albus' bowl of floo powder sat where it always did on a table near the fireplace. Grabbing it as she ran past it and knocking it straight to the floor where some of it scattered upward in a small flurry of dust, she tossed it ahead of her into the fire and literally ran headlong into the green flames.

"Hogwarts!" she yelled firmly and in a flash of emerald and then a burst of purple she was thrown back from Albus' fireplace and onto the hardwood floor.

She shook and picked up herself up off the floor. She swore loudly. That had been stupid. In her worry for Albus she simply hadn't thought. One could not simply floo into Hogwarts. It did not accept unannounced visitors. It was one of the protective enchantments around the school that Hogwarts, A History had detailed. She couldn't believe that she'd forgotten something so simple. She needed to think more carefully about what she was doing. It was of the utmost importance that she get to Hogwarts quickly and warn him.

She was left with few options. She could not apparate and even if she were able to no one could apparate within Hogwarts' grounds anyway. A portkey could get in and out but one needed to be in a high administrative position within the school for any portkey with Hogwarts set as either the destination or the point of departure. Moreover, making a portkey was advanced magic that she had not learned yet.

She sighed. It was a number of miles from Albus' summer home to Hogwarts and she was going to have to get there by broomstick. This was going to take at least a couple of hours.

Now where did Albus keep his broomstick? Had he even left it here? She hoped so.

She did not have the time to look for it, assuming it was here. "Accio Albus' broomstick!"

She waited a few moments, to no avail. He'd obviously taken it with him. She would have to run back home to get her own broomstick then return here to start her journey. She would lose at least another two hours more than she already was if she started from home.

She bent down and grabbed a handful of floo powder from where it had spilled on the floor then flooed back to McGonagall Manor.

She blasted the lock off of the broom cupboard where her family stored their broomsticks. Ever since she'd had her fall back in her third year her mother had kept her broomstick locked up with an enchanted lock in the broom cupboard so she could not get to it without her father. It was her mother's insurance that she would not be flying around playing "that horrible sport" by herself.

Minerva pulled open the now splintered wood door and pulled her pride and joy, her Silver Arrow, out of it place in the cupboard.

After a moment's thought, she went up to her room and grabbed a cloak. The night was not a cold one—it was the middle of summer—but the sky above the clouds where she would be fly undoubtably would be. Another moment's thought had her grabbing a map of Britain with an enchanted dot on it that indicated where the user currently was. Hogwarts may have been unplottable but Hogsmeade certainly was not and if she could find that easily than getting to the castle would not be a problem.

She flooed quickly back to Albus', eager to get started and not waste any more time than she needed to. She was already afraid that delay might make her too late. She had no idea when they would be commencing their attack. She just hoped they would still be preparing for a long while yet.

/E/E/E/E/E/

The more time Minerva spent in the air, the more her worry for Albus' safety mounted and the faster she urged her broom to go. She was bone-cold—cloaks were not exactly ideal for flying, given their propensity for flying behind one do to the wind, and this was a light summer cloak. She paid it no heed, however. Her only concern was for Albus. The idea of him being hurt or even killed was unbearable to him. She would do absolutely anything to make sure that he came out of this all right. It was an irony, really. He was her teacher. His job was to protect her, not the other way around, but she did not—simply could not—care. He meant too much to her. She did not care if she fell off her broomstick to her death because of the abuse she was putting herself through as long as she somehow managed to get her message to Albus first.

It was with extreme relief that she touched down in front of Hogwarts' gates. Knowing that she would be unable to fly in but also that animals could freely pass in and out of the grounds, she quickly transfigured her beloved broom into a pocket watch that she could keep on her person and then transformed into her tabby cat self. She slipped easily into the grounds through the iron gates and ran headlong for the castle entrance.

The large wooden doors were, of course, closed, but there were many ways in which something as small as a tabby cat could enter the castle and having lived in the castle for the majority of the last five years Minerva knew many of them. She had no trouble getting herself into the castle.

There was not one moment when Minerva broke from her run as she pelted towards Albus' office—which she knew connected directly to his living quarters, though the entrance was hidden by some mundane looking portrait or statue or other such object and protected by a password. It was the place to start.

She transformed back into her human form as she neared his office, not bothering to quit running. She simply moved as fast as she could towards the door. A quick Alohomora charm unlocked the door and she was within her professor's office, yelling out his name and searching with as much speed as her panting form could manage for the entrance to his sleeping quarters.

"Good lord, girl! What's your problem? Yelling about like that. Some us are trying to sleep!" a portrait of wizened old wizard yelled at her.

"I have to see Professor Dumbledore," she told him. "Where's the entrance to his quarters?"

"Well, they're . . . Hey wait a minute! The students are gone for the summer! Who the bloody hell are you?"

"Never mind that!" she told him fiercely. What a time for him to collect his senses are start asking stupid questions. "This is important. Now tell me how to find him."

"There's no need to tell her anything, Darmond," said the tall figure of her professor from in front of an opening in the wall. "Please continue your disturbed rest. I shall be quite happy to help Miss McGonagall."

The man in the portrait nodded that and settled himself back into a resting position, closing his eyes.

"Well, I must admit that I am quite surprised to see you here, Minerva. I would have thought that you would have been comfortably asleep in your bed right now."

She rushed forward ton him. "Professor, I had to come here. You see—"

"Minerva, you're positively frozen!" Albus exclaimed, catching clear sight of her stiff red face and hands for the first time by the light of the torch he'd lit in his room. "Come sit by the fire, and warm yourself."

He pointed his wand at the fireplace and instantly a fire was roaring there as though it had been for hours. Ignoring her protests about the unimportance of her warmth, he pushed her firmly into his room and sat her down in a plush chair by the fire.

"Professor!" Minerva yelled, exasperated by his actions in light of how much danger they were all in—not that he knew about that of course. She'd not yet been able to tell him. "Professor, Grindelwald is going to be attacking the castle! Tonight! We've got to do something!"

Albus stopped what he was doing immediately and turned to look at her. "How do you know this, Minerva?"

With exasperation, she told him her tale. How the spy had come to her house and how she'd found out about the impending attack.

How her father had been killed by Grindelwald, vainly hoping that he'd be able to kill him and stop the war. How she'd done all she could to help him and failed. It was concise and she went into few details, only telling him what he needed to know.

"And then I turned about and saw my father dead." Tears sprang unbidden into her eyes at the mention of this. She did not want to cry right now. This was not the time, but the tears came anyway, silently slipping down her cheeks as she told Albus of how she'd tried to reach him at his home and had been unable to.

She finished the story with her flight to the castle and infiltration as a cat. More tears spilled down her cheeks and she felt Albus pulling her into a tight embrace. She never wanted to leave it. She felt safe here.

She wanted to run away. She and Albus could leave Hogwarts together and live in secret, never worrying about the death and destruction Grindelwald brought and living happily together.

But that would never happen. She and Albus were not lovers who could run off into the night together and even if they were, she knew it was not something she could allow herself to do. Escaping was not the answer. She knew that. Stopping Grindelwald was the answer. Fighting him and not allowing him to make them live in fear forever was the answer. It was a truth she clung to.

"I'm sorry about your father, Minerva," Albus told her as he held her to him, thinking of how a child such as this one should never be put through such things as that. She was far to precious. War and the tyrants that caused it harmed far too many precious things. "Come, we shall head to the Headmaster's office. We must mobilize if we are to protect the castle."

With a glance back at the welcoming, roaring fire, Minerva followed Albus from his room. She watched it crackle there and forlornly it occurred to her that if she would have simply flooed him a message instead of herself she could have avoided her two hour flight here. Here feelings for Albus had made her stupid more than once tonight. It was a disaster. The things that could have been done with that time . . .

But she was here now and what was done was done. The message had been delivered and at least she was her. She could protect Albus now as best she could. She could keep anything horrible from befalling him. At least the message had been delivered before Grindelwald had arrived. She could beat herself up over her mistakes later, when she had the time.