Minerva McGonagall had most often been described as a strong, collected, and stoic woman. Even on the venerable witch's worst days, her lips were pressed in a tight and thin line, her hair was pulled up into an immovable and flawless bun, and her emerald green teaching robes flowed elegantly around her form without the slightest crease or wrinkle.

At this moment, however, Minerva McGonagall was none of these things.

Rushing through the corridor amidst dust and rubble while dodging errant hexes and curses from enemies unseen, Minerva looked more like a roaring banshee than the icon that she was believed to be. Her mussed long black hair swirled around her head as she ran looking much like a dementor trailing in her wake. Her normally immaculate teaching robes were shredded and burnt leaving large holes and long tears where bright red scratches and searing burns could be seen just beneath.

The single most alarming change, however, could be found in the witch's emerald eyes. Eyes that had been trained to hide emotion now appeared to be unbridled and overflowing. In those swirling depths any onlooker could easily discern flashes of determination, rage, astonishment, sadness, and most importantly of all… fear.

Yes, the woman was afraid. There was no way to deny it. They were outnumbered, and Hogwarts, her beloved school, was falling fast. Rushing down the staircase now in an effort to reach the Great Hall, Minerva turned her head to the side quickly and held in her tears as she leapt over a small pile of bodies. They were children.

She had been through many wars, but even her past experiences could not turn the woman's heart to ice. Every death was a waste, a broken dream. No matter how many friends, loved ones, and colleagues she had seen buried, she had deeply and desperately mourned every single one.

Focus. The dead will be mourned when the battle is over. Focus. The woman thought to herself as she shifted into her animagus form and vaulted over the last few steps that had been split by magic. Quickly transforming back, she continued running hoping to reach the Great Hall in time to assist with preventing further advancement of Lord Voldemort's forces into the depths of Hogwarts castle.

She could hear the sounds of battle increasing, thundering in her ears as hexes and curses bounced off of walls and statues just beyond her view. Blood curdling screams ricocheted off the walls and sent chills down her spine as she rounded the last corner before reaching her destination.

There, just in front of the doors of the Great Hall, witches and wizards from each side were facing off against each other in duels the likes of which she had not seen since the last war. Her emerald eyes quickly scanned the corridor, settling instantly upon a head of curly brown hair and determined almond colored eyes. There was her star pupil, and dare she say friend, struggling to fend off none other than Bellatrix Lestrange.

Minerva uncharacteristically froze in place as she watched the loathsome woman twist her wand through the air as her high pitched cackle bounced through the hall. With a smirk on her lips as the dark witch watched Hermione squirm, she cast the curse that she was sure would end the irksome child. "Avada Kedavra!"

When the bright flash of eerie green light burst forth from the twisted wand, Minerva's mind sprung into overdrive. Hermione was defenseless, her wand laying just out of reach as she huddled against a wall barely supporting her own weight. Without a moment to pause and think of the possible consequences, Minerva raised her wand and with a swish and flick cast her own spell just as the killing curse was about to crash into the young woman she had sworn to protect. "Tempore Salvum!"

Instantly, an opaque bubble appeared around Miss Granger. Then, just a split second later, the young woman was gone.

Hermione was just barely managing to balance against the wall with her right hand when she saw Bellatrix Lestrange cast the curse that would inevitably take her life. As the flash of light raced through the air, she turned her head slightly and her wide eyes locked onto the brightest shade of emerald she had ever seen.

The fear that the young woman saw in those eyes both scared and intrigued her. She wanted to reach out for the woman, but her left arm was hanging loosely at her side after nearly being severed earlier in the battle. Just as she was about to close her eyes, Hermione watched as rose colored lips opened to release a roar that she couldn't hear over the never-ending ringing in her ears.

Suddenly, the area around her appeared blurry, as if she were watching the scene of the battle through a dense fog. Then, a mere moment later, her world went black.

Pain. That was the only thing her brain could register as the first moments of consciousness swept over her body. Excruciating pain. Her head was throbbing relentlessly and her whole body ached as if she had been run over by the Hogwarts Express. Wait… Hogwarts. The battle!

With that last thought, Hermione Granger's eyes snapped open in an effort to take in her surroundings while she made a valiant attempt at getting to her feet. Her effort was impeded by a great wave of dizziness that coursed through her and caused her to fall back to the bed in a tangled heap.

"Easy now. I'm afraid you took quite the fall. You were lucky that Miss McGonagall here was around to find you and get you up to the Hospital Wing." The voice that addressed her sounded so familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. She cursed her blurry vision and rubbed her eyes fervently with her right hand.

"What… where am I?" she asked the man standing to the left of her bed.

"Well you are at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, of course!" the man exclaimed with mirth in his eyes and a slight chuckle in his voice. "You took a bit of a spell out near the Quidditch pitch and Miss McGonagall brought you up to the hospital wing to have your head examined. She said you were mumbling something about a battle of some kind."

Recognizing the name of her transfiguration professor the second time that it was spoken, Hermione quickly whirled around to her right. A sharp gasp escaped her parted lips and her eyes widened to the size of saucers as she took in the woman standing just before her with a broomstick in her hand.

She saw a tall and lanky young woman with the toned body of a lifetime athlete, long and flowing black hair that hung just past her shoulders, bright and shining emerald eyes that she would recognize anywhere, and pale and milky skin that remained untouched by the hands of time.

Attempting to push her shock at the woman's appearance aside, Hermione managed a stuttered, "Mmm… mmm… McGonagall?"

Instantly, the young woman raised her chin and flashed her a brilliant smile before responding, "Minerva McGonagall, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, at your service!" She followed her jubilant introduction with a slight bow and a brilliant laugh that reached into Hermione's chest and stole her breath away.

Without moving her eyes that unwillingly remained fixated on the woman before her, Hermione hesitantly queried, "What… what year is it?"

Another light chuckle vibrated across the air as the elder man on her left again responded, "You must have hit your head a bit harder than we had thought! It's 1953, of course!"

As soon as her brain was able to process the answer that she had received from the seemingly carefree man, Hermione's world went black again.

TBC – I hope that you enjoyed this! Reviews are wonderful!