Minerva found herself pulled into the small office and surrounded on all sides. Three separate wands, all as unique as their masters, were pointed directly in her face. The door snapped shut behind her, and they were alone. "Start talking," a voice behind her growled out. Minerva huffed, put out her rough treatment, and turned toward the voice. His raven hair was already streaked liberally with grey along the temples, and he now had two scars on his forehead, although the second wasn't the trademark lightning bolt. He was gaunt, thin as a rail, and reminded her of a vulture, his shoulders slumped forward as he stood. He was suspicious, cautious, even a little confused. While he had obviously hardened from his experiences, he had been unable to mask his emotions, and some small part of Minerva rejoiced in his failure.

She remained silent, her raised eyebrow her own sign of her displeasure. "Are you learning impaired," he asked, clearly becoming more agitated.

"If I were," she said, crossing her arms in front of her and leaning back on her heels, "do you think pointing it out, Mr. Potter, would be conducive to polite conversation?"

Internally, she grinned as a snort came from her right and Harry's eyes grew wide, not expecting the flippant reply. Minerva looked out of the corner of her eye and saw Hermione doing her best to stifle the laughter threatening to explode.

"I would appreciate it if you would remove your wands from my face and sit down. Perhaps we could try talking, just for a change of pace. Could you manage to that Mr. Potter, or would prefer to perfect your fish imitation for a bit longer? I see we have the time."

Without another word, Minerva lowered herself gracefully and stared up at the other occupants. Never putting away their wands, each joined her, one by one. She wasn't really surprised to see Hermione, or Severus for that matter, but the third man made her heart swell. "Ten point to Gryffindor Mr. Daniels. I see I underestimated you; it won't happen again." A smile ghosted over his lips and he nodded, being the first to sheath his wand.

"Alright, let's talk." Harry said, coming to his senses, leaning forward. His eyes were intense as his arms came to rest against his knees. His eyes raked over her, taking in every detail, making Minerva feel slightly self conscious, but she fought the urge to wrap her arms around herself. She refused to give him the satisfaction.

When he was finished, Harry leaned back in his chair, flinging one leg over the chair's arm. "Image the surprise when you were sighted walking through that hell hole yesterday. Minerva McGonagall returned from the dead." Severus scoffed beside him, and Harry smirked. "It must be true; here you are. No collar, no bonds of any kind, and you weren't shuttled away immediately. The old fool is obviously still besotted with you. The only question is why."

Minerva could see the curiosity behind his glasses, the possibilities playing out in that extraordinary mind. It was mirrored by the others, but Severus also had a look of what could be..contempt. "Why what Mr. Potter? You will need to be a little more specific than that. And there's really no need to look at me like that Severus; you stopped being frightening a long time ago."

Severus scowled at her and gripped his wand tightly. Minerva could see his fingers flex and she simply couldn't help herself. "Don't squeeze your wand too tightly Severus. They do say it's different when the children are your own."

There was silence as the tension mounted before it was shattered with the sound of choking. Harry's emaciated form was shaking, trembling silently. His eyes were beginning to water and his cheeks flushed. A sound, not quite human, came out of his mouth, and he looked as astonished as everyone else. He was actually laughing. "I always liked you," he wheezed, trying to catch his breath. The green glow of his own collar illuminating the tears streaking down his face. "Let's try this again. How did you get here, and what do you want?"

'Maybe I should just write this down,' Minerva thought sarcastically. "What I want, Mr. Potter, is go home. We all know I do not belong here. As for how..I'm still working on that one."

Minerva reached over and picked up the fresh cup of sweet smelling tea Hermione had set down for her. Just as she was bringing it to her lips, she saw the expectation in Harry's eyes. She sighed and looked longingly at the tea, setting it back down again. "A good effort Severus, but you've gotten rusty. If you're that desperate for truth, you know what you should do. I was never very good, and you know it."

He nodded. It had always been well known that Minerva was horrible at Occlumency, a fact which had always surprised him. Most of the Order couldn't understand why she had been allowed such access without being able to protect herself.

She had turned in her seat, staring directly at him, an invitation if he ever received one. He picked through her mind, saw and felt everything she had experienced. He tarried longer than necessary when he found the memory of that morning, the sheer look of horror on Albus' face. His terror was a welcome sight.

He bobbed his head, putting away his own wand. "The Tin Man is beating again I see. That is..surprising." Minerva and Daniels seemed to be the only one's confused as Hermione frowned at Severus and Harry let out another snort.

"Tin Man,"Minerva questioned, but Harry just waved it away.

"That's not important. The question now is what to do with you? We all know how you feel about the old crackpot. Don't look so surprised," he said seen her shocked face. "You two were hopeless when we were students. If I had to sit through more meal with the two of you pining away, I would have been sick."

He stood up, scratching his stomach. "We could simply let you return, but then, how do we know Dumbledore won't find out about me? That could throw off the entire timetable, and we've spent too long planning this. Or, we could just never let you leave."

"And just what are you planning on doing?" she asked, already fearing the answer that came to mind.

"We're going to kill Dumbledore," Hermione said, almost casually.

"No!" Minerva yelled, jumping to her feet. "You can't just..there has to be another way!" The other four looked at her, and she fell back into her seat, trembling. "When?" she whispered.

"Friday," Daniels supplied. "It's the anniversary of his swearing in; rather apt in my mind."

A dull roar filled her thoughts as she desperately searched for an excuse, any reason. She could find nothing. "Please," she begged, "give me time. Let me at least try to get through to him. If I could convince him to step down, would you let him live?"

Harry stepped forward and dropped to his knees in front of her. He tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes were puffy and red, and he stared, searching for something. He seemed to have found it and released her. "I owe you that," he said, handing her a tattered handkerchief. "The ceremony isn't until Friday evening. We will not change the plan, but we will let you go back. If anyone can knock sense into him, it's you."

Grasping her hands, he pulled her toward the door. "Tell no one what you saw here. If you did I'll know, and everything is off. I remember him too," he said softly. "But, that man is dead. Don't get your hopes up too high."

Without a word, Minerva stepped through the door and heard it click shut behind her. She lifted the hood of her cloak up, trying to ignore the stares she received. An hour later, entering her chambers again and stripping off her traveling cloak, Minerva was met with another shock. She clutched her chest as Albus stood before her, looking every bit the nervous school boy.

Slowly he walked toward her, raising a hand containing a jar of a bluish substance. "Severus flooed," he explained tentatively. "He told me Poppy hadn't been in to help you, so I brought you this."

He held out the jar, but when she didn't take it, he dropped his gaze and set the jar on a table. It will help with the bruise; just rub it in before you go to bed."

They stared at each other for what seemed an eternity before Albus turned and again walked toward the door. He hadn't gotten two steps before she reached out and touched his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Albus smiled weakly and simply bowed. "Am I truly that different?" he asked. She didn't answer, simply looking back at the jar. "I thought so," he said, walking out of the room.

Minerva delicately fingered the lid of the jar before picking it up, watching the candlelight cause it to glow. She nearly dropped it again as a feeling of warmth and contentment suddenly flooded through her, seeming to overwhelm her. Love and need flooded through every pore of her being, and Minerva closed her eyes to relish in it. "Albus," she moaned, seeing a pair of twinkling blue eyes and soft lips.


Albus opened his eyes, sweat drenching his robes and trailing down the side of his face. His breath was coming in short gasps as he struggled to fight off unconsciousness. The spell had taken a lot out of him, but he was radiating happiness. He dropped the heavy tomb and never noticed the shards of broken glass at his feet from the dropped vial. The potion had worked. They were one, and it was time to bring her home. He only had to hope she wouldn't kill him; they hadn't even had dinner yet.