Minerva had never had occasion to visit the Headmaster's office before. As such, she had absolutely no idea where it was located and was forced to allow herself to be guided there by the comforting hand Albus had rested on her shoulder for nearly the entirety of their hurried, half run, half walk to the stone gargoyle that would lead to the office. This was against her better judgement. In her own opinion she was far too excited by his touch to be allowing it to continue but she did so anyway.

Albus, on the other hand, had no idea the reaction such a simple action evoked in his student. Had he known, he likely would have removed it, but to him it was simple an action meant to be comforting. Unable to truly express his sympathies for what the girl had witnessed—the death of what he knew to be a very beloved father—because of the simple lack of time they both knew to be upon them, he'd simply placed his hand on her shoulder to express his sympathies. He'd never have dreamed that a girl some eighty years his junior would ever develop feelings for him. The fact that he saw her as a child prevented him from seeing what should have been obvious to him and kept his mind focused on the fact that it was unfair to have this sort of thing happen to a girl of sweet sixteen.

Minerva was not of an age where she should be in the middle of what would like be a very large and historical battle, yet here she was. In reality he knew that she was really no child in the strictest sense of the word. Chronologically she was nearing adulthood according to the customs of their world and she had always been old for her age. She had an old and wise soul in a young body. It was the reason all of her friends were at least one to four years older than herself. Maturity wise, Minerva was an adult really but that still did not make her place here. However mature she was, she was not an adult and should not have been thrust into a battle that was bigger than herself or anyone else involved.

At the end of the day she was still sixteen years old.

Assuming she survived the day that was. Albus briefly squeezed his prize student's shoulder. If they were unlucky none or few of them would survive to the end of the day. It was a great fear of his. Especially when Minerva could possibly number among the dead. He would hate to see any of his students end up dead—but Minerva even more so. She was something special and was capable of many things. He'd known that for years. He would be doing everything he could to keep her out of harm's way during the fighting.

This idea was more than likely one his more foolish ones. Minerva would not be protected from danger like a helpless child and would not allow herself to be separated from Albus' side. As far as she was concerned she was under no one's protection but her own and she planned to stay with Albus come hell or high water. She needed no one to tell her what was some how an unchangeable, inescapable fact: her place was at Albus' side. She did not know how she knew this, or why it was true, but it was something she knew quite distinctly. Now, at the time of battle when he needed his allies about him, there was absolutely no where else she could possibly be.

Her unrequited love tied her, unbidden, to him and with him was exactly where she needed to be. The Fates would do well to help the person who tried to challenge that.

/E/E/E/E/E/

In Minerva's opinion going to the Headmaster had been a complete waste of time. Armando Dippet was, though adequate, not a particularly good headmaster and was most certainly not the type of leader needed in a crisis like this. It was Albus upon whom all of this had fallen and it seemed to Minerva that Armando Dippet was very much like a formality. He was doing absolutely nothing of importance and in essence was simply existing.

Albus was the real leader here. The Deputy Headmaster was the one leading the summoned aurors and teachers against Grindelwald and it was he that they were throwing their banner around. Somehow he inspired in people amazing things. People were scared, there was no denying it, and rightly so. If Hogwarts was lost then the education of the young would cease, and it was very important to keep educating them in times like these. Yet despite their fear, there was a growing confidence, a very certain sense of hope, and it was all Albus' doing. The power he radiated was unusual and astounding in its intensity. People could not help but trust in it and the man who possessed it. Minerva had never seen anything quite like it before. Suddenly, Albus was larger than life. He was something greater than all of them.

Minerva had to wonder who she was to presume to care about him as she did. He a great man doing something great. She could not measure up to that in any ways.

Moments when such thoughts invaded her minds were brief and far between, however. Minerva was quite aware that many people could not help but love things and people greater than themselves. She was simply no different.

Morever, Albus had his flaws and Minerva, more than most people, was very aware of this. After all, she had beaten him at chess nearly every time they'd played within the past couple of months. It was only a handful of games to be sure but she knew this was no fluke. Ever since her first win against him her number of losses had plummeted significantly. She had won more and more often since then. Albus was not the great strategist her father had been and she had made it her business to point out to him any flaws in his strategy that she'd seen. It was the least she could do for Hogwarts and for the great man she presumed to care for so.

It was this that had quickly made Minerva indispensable to Albus. A mind for battle plans and strategy was something she had quite clearly inherited from her father and he could not have asked for a better second in command. She far outdid any of the adults he had to choose from. Where he had weaknesses she had strengths and he trusted her and her judgement implicitly. The sixteen year old girl that he'd been intent to keep out of harm's way had turned out to be the perfect deputy commander for him. She'd simply fallen into the pivotal role as though she'd never been without it. He had no choice but to simply let her function in it. Trying to remove her from it, even under the justification of protecting her, would be disastrous. He would denying himself the best second in command he could possibly come by in this battle (and indeed perhaps at all). Cutting Minerva off from the battle would be like cutting off his right arm, and none of them could afford to fight this battle crippled. Young or not, she was the one for the job.

/E/E/E/E/E/

"If he's smart, he'll have a second wave prepared and ready to send in sometime soon," Minerva told Albus. "Not from the forest this time, though. He'll come in from two sides, large and obvious. There's no need to hide the attack anymore, everyone knows about it. The entirety of Hogsmeade is up here fighting with us." She sighed. "Our numbers are still going down though, and now that the villagers have fought their way up here, he's got us trapped at the castle here. The last message we managed to get out was hours ago. He can't be expecting us to get reinforcements." She sighed again, louder this time. "I'm not certain we'll get reinforcements. What the hell is the Ministry doing?"

"They are likely trying to find Grindelwald," Albus mused. "Behead the monster and it falls."

Minerva snorted in disgust, flaring her thin nostrils. "Sometimes it takes a while for a monster's limbs to notice. This is no sophisticated fighting force, lost without its leader. This is a band of ruffians, held in check by their leader. They're with him because they think what he is doing and that he started that Muggle war is amusing. They'll just keep coming and tear the castle apart for sport whether Grindelwald has been captured by the Ministry or not."

"If we never go after Grindelwald then the war will never end, Minerva. We can't win if we take no action."

"I'm not saying that we should never take aggressive action against Grindelwald, Albus." During the battle she'd accidentally fallen away from her habit of addressing him formally. Nobody, including Albus, cared, however. Given her position as his right hand, his best advisor and second in command, it seemed more appropriate for her to be doing that anyway.

"I'm just saying that now is not the time," she continued.

"We may yet see more Ministry officials at our aid," Albus told her.

She shook her head. "Can't count on it. Not until Grindelwald finally shows his face here and even then we shouldn't. I'd hate to be wrong about that and then lose."

Albus nodded. "You think Grindelwald will come here tonight as well, then?"

"Of course. This would be a great victory for him. He takes Hogwarts and his fight with the world is quite nearly over. It'd be like the first domino. He'll want to be here for it."

Albus smiled at her. "I had a feeling he would , but I didn't think it made tactical sense."

"That's because it doesn't," she told him tartly. "But Grindelwald shows a pattern in this area—a fairly consistent one. It was dinner talk between my father and Jove when he would come back home. Remember when Grindelwald took France?"

"Indeed I do."

"That was a classic example. It's the archetype for his pattern. He likes to sweep in and finish things up himself. He knows that most of his forces are incompetent."

Albus did not respond. Instead, he was staring at a point just beyond Minerva's shoulder with a thoughtful look on his face. Minerva scrutinized him carefully, wondering what on earth was going through his head.

Albus' eyes hardened and she saw him straighten his posture. He'd come to a decision about something.

"When Grindelwald arrives here I will be cutting off the head of the beast."

"I'm sorry?" asked Minerva incredulously.

"Grindelwald follows a distinct pattern. You just said so. We can use that against him."

"You can't be serious! He'll be surrounded by a guard. You won't stand a chance."

"This needs to come to an end, Minerva. People deserve peace."

"We don't need to end it today," Minerva argued. "Let's put him on the run and then go after him when we're strong."

"He will be here tonight. We have an excellent opportunity. Grindelwald has a talent for slipping through people's fingers. We should not let him do that yet again."

Minerva wanted to argue with him, to tell him that it was too dangerous and could not be done. But that wasn't true and she could not argue with him. He was right. They had a singular opportunity here and already the wheels of her mind were spinning with a way to make this work.

It was possibly, though thinly so, to win the war tonight and she had to admit that if anyone could pull this off, Albus could. It was a rare wizard who was as powerful as Albus Dumbledore. He might well have been able to outmatch even her father.

No matter what, however, she would be with him as he attempted to do what she knew he was set upon doing. If he was to die at this, he would not do so alone and if she could help him get Grindelwald (or better yet, kill him), then she would.

It was at that moment that it occurred to her exactly how in love with Albus she was. It did not matter to her what happened as long as Albus came out all right. She'd done all of this for him.

Knowing there were more important things at hand than her realization, however, she pushed it aside and began speaking to Albus of the crazed plan that might just work.