A Fighting Passion

A/N: It has come to my attention that JKR has released Minerva's background. My story is now extremely AU. However, I'm not changing a thing, so my apologies. I do have a two-chapter fic in the works that is canon concerning her background, but it will not interfere with this one! So please enjoy!

The next letter was labeled Summer 1942 and Hermione let out a small gasp at the date. Ron was fiddling with the bottle as Harry and Ginny looked at their brown headed friend in confusion.

"The Chamber of Secrets was opened for the first time in 1942," she said as if the date should have been as glaringly obvious to them as it had been to her.

"The Chamber wasn't opened in July- they weren't even in school yet," countered Harry, causing Hermione to roll her eyes.

"Don't you see? Professor McGonagall would have been a student when it opened, not to mention clearly in a relationship with the person responsible."

"Maybe she left him when she found out what he had done," muttered Ron. He was having the hardest time accepting that his most esteemed Head of House had once been more than friends with the Dark Lord.

"Except no one knew what he did," spat Harry. "He got awarded for turning in Hagrid, remember?" Four eyes swept unseeingly at each other at the impact of the words.

"Let's just read the letter and get on with it." Ginny pulled the parchment from Hermione's grasp and began to read. "During my fifth year, the war against Grindelwald, and consequently the Muggle Second World War, was in an uproar. Young wizarding men (very few women were known to have fought then, but this was the war that led to more women getting involved on the front line) were laying down their lives to defend their families and home. I had two older brothers: Emory and Stanton. Both enlisted to fight after their graduation. My father, Lord Geoffrey McGonagall, was an auror during this time and he died in February of 1942. We never knew the true date. Emory and Stanton were murdered on May 18, 1942 alongside seven other volunteers.

"My mother, Lady Margrette, reached such a state of depression that I withdrew from my family and childhood home in order to free myself from her newfound insanity. My best friend, Augusta Wallace, was just as much of the pureblood society I grew up within, one that taught their children to bear the pain of their family in silence. Therefore, I knew I would not be welcome in her parent's home. So I turned to the only person without parents to judge my family or myself, Tom. My emotional state was unstable to say the least, but I remained with him for the rest of the summer. And I do apologize if I ruin whatever image you have of me with my actions or words. I do know that everything that I did as a young woman shaped me into my more mature years, for better or worse. I have included two memories that took place that summer, both equally important. .."

Summer 1942

A very emotional Minerva stood in front of the door to a flat in a rather run down hallway. A large bag hung off her shoulder and a trunk was next to her right foot. She slammed her fist against the door, seething in anger. The door finally swung open and Tom stood on the other side clearly surprised to see her. Paying no attention to his questioning eyes, she barged straight into the flat.

"Oh please come in, Minerva," he murmured sarcastically, watching her unceremoniously dump her bag into a rickety chair in the corner. Shaking his head, he pulled her trunk in from the hallway, settling it just inside the door. The flat was small and dirty, but sufficient enough for the underage orphan to live during the summer. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"My selfish, self-righteous, self serving, inconsiderate, bitch of a mother!" Cheeks flushed, Minerva whirled around, and threw her hands in the air in obvious frustration. "She's wallowing around in self pity, blaming the whole damn world for her life going down the fucking toilet!" If he was shocked at all by the outburst or her unusually colorful language, Tom did not let it show. Instead, he calmly faced her full wrath.

"She did just lose her husband and two sons in a matter of half a year." Clearly this was not the answer she was looking for, because as she started yelling again her voice had climbed several decibels.

"And I lost my father and brothers! Why can't she see that she didn't lose her entire family?" A waver in her voice caused her to take a gasping breath and tears spilled over her eyelids. "I'm still here. Her daughter, her child, his child, their sister, is still here. I loved them too. How can she ignore me, hate me? I'm suffering too..."

"Minerva, I think you're over reacting a bit. Your mother is going through a tough time. I don't think that means she hates you."

"She said she didn't want to see me anymore. It hurts her too much." With tears flowing steadily down her pale face, Minerva looked completely defeated. Tom slowly wrapped his arm around her shaking frame and pulled her close and let her cry on his shoulder.

"You're right; your mother is a bitch." His fingers made small circles on her back. Muffled laughter came from their embrace; unburying her face from his robes she wiped her eyes with a bitter smile on her face.

"And you wanted to be a part of my lovely pureblood society. It is not what is all talked up to be, is it?"

"Oh, and being an orphan is so much better?"

"At least you never have to watch them die or hate you." The embrace became stiff as he drank in her words. The frown that crossed his etched face did not go unnoticed by his overly-observant girlfriend. "I have upset you. Tom, I didn't mean it like that..."

"No, you did." He pulled away to leave her standing stock still in the middle of the room. "It must be easier to never know your parents, to live as a poor orphan for your entire life. Now you are right, I'll never know the truth behind your unbearable pureblood society, but I have suffered just as much as you."

"Oh, so now I'm the rich spoilt child? Merlin, Tom, the world isn't out to get you."

"I never said it was. Just that you can't compare my life to yours!"

"Right. Because Mr. Perfect who the entire school thinks is so godly and handsome could have the worst possible life imaginable?" Her anger matched his now and color had risen in her cheeks. Apparently, the temper her elder self tried so desperately to keep in check was just as rampant in the past as it would be in the future. "Give me a break. The only thing wrong with your life is that you don't let anyone close enough to see pass the stone mountain you've built around your heart!"

"Just because I don't have a giggling entourage that knows my every feeling and thought does not mean I have not let people into my miserable life!" As their voices kept climbing, so did the magical tension in the room. Neither held their wand, but the feeling was there nevertheless. Lights flickered and the widows vibrated in response to the whipping magic.

"So surly boys that act better than everyone else are so much better? They might worship your every move Tom, but they will not give a damn when push comes to shove! You have no one in your life that knows you inside and out." Arms crossed firmly across her chest, Minerva's emerald eyes were burning as she spat out the last part. "And that is a dying shame."

"Now you've gone and made this about us, huh? My inability to commit? Is that it?" Closing the distance Tom had put between them, he grasped her forearms roughly. Shock rippled across Minerva's features, but as she tried to pull away he only gripped her harder. "Fine. You want to know my every thought? My every need? I'll give you everything, Minerva, everything. Stay with me and I'll give you my soul." As she began to open her mouth to retort, Tom's lips crushed into her own. Tongue met tongue and he pushed her to the bedroom door as she began to remove his shirt. His hands were crawling up her skirt as her back hit the edge of the bed and toppled them over.

The memory faded only to be replaced with the flat once more, only this time they were in the bed room. Time had clearly passed, for Minerva's clothes hung in the closet and the room was much cleaner than the previous time.

Tom was lounging on his stomach on the left side of the bed, gazing lazily out the open window. White sheets met his pale back in contrast to the dark blue shirt that his bedmate was wearing. Minerva was sitting cross-legged next to him in a men's button up shirt. Her long slender legs were partially obscured by a tangle of sheets and the Dailey Prophet.

"It really has gotten worse. You should read some of these snippets from the Letter to the Editor section. It is ridiculous."

"Is that so?" Green eyes rolled at the lack of response.

"Listen to this: 'If Grindelwald has this much power, could he be right?' or 'Why resist what we all to be a growing problem. The magic of our ancestors is being watered down and tainted by Muggles.' The ignorance of some people!"

"Not everyone can be as level headed about war as you."

"What is with the cheek this morning?" Chuckling, Tom propped himself up with his elbows.

"No cheek intended."

"Hmph."

"Oh, come on, Min." A smile broke through her mock offence as he kissed her knee gently."Grindelwald. Hmm. What a name. I wonder…" He thought about it for a moment. "I guess if I had a name like that, I would want to be known for it. I just can't see Riddle instilling any fear. I guess if I married you, I would become a Lord. Lord Riddle…" Minerva smacked him gently on the back.

"I'll only be 'Lady McGonagall' when Mum dies. Of course, marrying you might actually lead her to kill herself. Merlin forbid I marry someone who isn't a pureblood."

"Well, according to that paper, we'll all be dead if Grindelwald gets his way."

"That isn't something to joke about." There was a sadness in her emerald eyes.

"I just don't bother myself with things that do not concern me."

"Not concern you? Tom, this is a war!"

"I'm not worried about it. Plus, that Grindelwald person seems pretty smart." Tom did not flinch at Minerva's outraged glare.

"Pretty smart? Are you kidding me? He is committing genocide!" The paper was forgotten on the bed now.

"To a race of people who are clearly not as advanced as we are. Muggles are only holding this world back."

"Just because they don't have the advantage of magic doesn't mean they are backwards. It's all hogwash and you know it!" Tom pushed himself into a sitting position and reached for her hand only to get slapped away.

"Come on, Min. This is ridiculous…it's just a matter of opinion. I think Muggles are the scum beneath my feet; you seem to think they still have a chance at proving they are worth something. Clearly, we disagree, but arguing one way or the other isn't going to change the war. We can't stop Grindelwald by agreeing that Muggles aren't that bad. Let it go." Tom rolled out of bed and reached for his pants to pull over his boxers.

"What are you doing? I'm not finished!" Minerva was obviously waiting for a fight to ensue, but Tom seemed rather pleased with himself. Not to mention finished with the conversation.

"Well I am. What do you want for breakfast?"

The four pulled out of the memory and seated themselves back at the kitchen table.

Hermione stared at the pensive and said, "Interesting."

"Interesting?" Ron looked aghast. "You call that interesting? He just basically told her he wanted to get rid of all Muggles and then made her breakfast! She's completely blind to-"

"Ronald. Shut. Up." Ginny was staring at him from her seat next to Harry. "I agree with Hermione. I am surprised they were living together. I mean in the summer of 1942, she would have only been sixteen. Granted she turned seventeen in October, but still. He was just turning sixteen. They were so young."

"And so very much in love," added Hermione. "And Ron, you're not completely wrong. She was blinded to who he really was, but look at how at ease he was with her."

Harry's eyes were dark when he joined the conversation. "Not to mention obsessed. Did you hear him? 'I'll give you everything. Stay with me and I'll give you my soul.'"

"Yeah, that was creepy."

"Creepy?" Ginny was still looking at her brother with irritation. "Maybe creepy for you or Harry to say to someone, but for the teenager that grew up to be Lord Voldemort, that had more meaning than saying 'I love you'."

"But Voldemort can't love…Dumbledore himself said that was the one thing that he couldn't understand."

Hermione gave Harry a sympathetic glance. "Maybe Dumbledore didn't understand You-Know-Who as much as he thought he did."

"McGonagall sure knew him better than we thought she did."

The four were left with those sobering thoughts as they called it a night. Hermione and Ron said their goodnights and Ginny remained with Harry in the kitchen. The redhead had a burning question to ask and the serious look on her face was scaring Harry.

Once her brother and Hermione went upstairs Ginny held nothing back and demanded, "You aren't going back to school are you?" Harry paused on the opposite side of the table.

"Ginny…"

"I just need to know."

"No, I'm not," he replied honestly. "Dumbledore-"

"Left you something to do. I know. I've heard it a million times." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Can you just come back? For me? Because every night I spent locked up in that room all I could think about was you finally defeated him he couldn't hurt anyone anymore."

"Ginny," he murmured and ran around the table to pull her into his arms.

"I can be anyone you need me to, Harry," she sniffed and buried her head into his chest. "I just need you to promise me that when all of this is over, you will remember me."

"I could never forget you. I love you." Harry gently pulled her face back to look her in the eye. "And love is all I need."

Preview: Secrets

"After what happened in this memory, I was surprised that Albus made me Head Girl since I lied so blatantly to him. I will say, in my defense, I had no idea at this time that Tom had opened the Chamber. I wouldn't find this out for several more years."