Those who saw Professor McGonagall take four stunning spells to the chest believed her to have died as the spells made contact with her aging body. They considered such an onslaught to be far more than the human body could withstand. On one account they were correct.

Although the then Head of Gryffindor had appeared to make a remarkable recovery, it transpired that the improvements in her health were short lived. Before long it became clear that, without some form of medical intervention, Minerva McGonagall would succumb to the death she had so narrowly evaded.

It was Poppy Pomfrey and Rolanda Hooch who finally set the wheels in motion, appealing to Dumbledore's portrait for a solution. And it was to Dumbledore, once a course of action had been settled upon, to whom the task of persuading the notoriously stubborn woman fell.

Predictably, Minerva had denied that there was anything at all the matter with her and stoutly refused to have anything to do with a procedure which would require a number of her friends to engage in a lengthy and potentially draining ritual.

It was only when Albus appealed to her as the Head, guardian of the magical youth, that the witch relented and only then in the understanding that to refuse would be to forgo her opportunity, her duty, to steer the school out of the darkness left in the wake of the Battle of Hogwarts.

Obtaining her agreement was, however, relatively speaking, the easy part. The ritual itself was to consist of three parts. The first of these was the brewing of a potion; a powerful relative of the Polyjuice potion with a permanent effect. The details of the potion were such that it had to be brewed all at once within a circle of witnesses. A further complicating factor was that it was imperative that the circle should be made up of ten individuals who harboured absolutely no ill feeling towards Minerva.

So important was this point that it was necessary to subject these individuals to rigorous testing, meaning that the chosen ten had to be willing to consume Veritasium prior to participating in the ritual. The second part of the process consisted of an oath which asserted that the recipient of the ritual would not abuse the effect of the ritual and would seek to do good with the unique circumstance that would be theirs on its completion. Finally, the ten witnesses would channel their magic though the recipient's body as they drank a beaker's measure of the potion.

If all three stages of the process came off with out a glitch, Minerva would be free from the injuries brought about be the the stunning spells; injuries that were slowly draining her of life. This would be, however, only one of two effects. The other consequence of the ritual would be the regression of her bodily cells, so far that she would, in all but mind, become as she had been at her coming of age. This would not only mean that she had the body of an eighteen year old, but also that her life expectancy would increase accordingly. She could expect to live for at least another eighty years and more likely longer on account of the strength of her magic. After all, there were few witches whose sheer magical power could have rallied their body to survive an attack like that which she had survived.

The morning of the ritual dawned just short of a fortnight after the conversation between Minerva and her former Head. The necessary ingredients had been collected and the ten had been chosen and tested. Poppy and Rolanda were to take part in addition to both Mr and Mrs Weasley, Professors Sprout and Flitwick, Madame Rosmerta, Augusta Longbottom, Kingsley Shacklebolt and two of Minerva's oldest friends with whom the group was not familiar. The first of these was a tall old wizard by the name of Garion Maldock with a flamboyant smile. The second was a much shorter witch of a similar age with piercing grey eyes which seemed to negate the lines beginning to spider around them. Her name was Logretta Soie. This was by no means the extent of the people who would have been willing to help Minerva, but it was decided that the participants should be chosen largely according to magical strength and experience. A certain degree of secrecy was also required and it was this criterion that had led some to question whether it might be more prudent to leave Molly out of proceedings, but as Minerva herself pointed out, Molly was far more likely to kick up a fuss if she was not included. So the final ten was confirmed and prepared for the part they were to play.

The morning was bright, but that was to be expected in August. The date had been chosen as it allowed for care and control in the preparations and left some time for Minerva to recover prior to the start of the new school year.

Minerva woke, registering the sunshine outside her window with a smile. Then she remembered exactly what she had to do on that particular day. Feeling a wave of embarrassment roll through her, Minerva groaned and pulled the covers up to her ears, relishing the safety and warmth of her bed. She was not a shy person, indeed her line of work involved talking to hundreds of people, often in large groups. She was not, however, fond of being the reason for a gathering. She had been livid when Albus had organised a surprise party for her seventieth a few years back. Thus the thought of what was to occur horrified her.

At last, deciding that there was little point seeking to avoid the inevitable, Minerva sat up, swung her legs over the edge of her bed and set about getting ready for the day ahead.

It was much later that evening when the party assembled in the small chamber set off of one side of the great hall. All that is, except Minerva herself, who had opted to take a last minute stroll to settle her mind. As she gazed at the sun as it set over the lake she mused that this, at least, she would enjoy if she lived to see another two hundred years. The ritual was to take place after dark, so it was with a clean conscience that she allowed herself to miss the empty conversation that would bubble about the group as it gathered.

Finally, she sighed and turned towards the castle, trying to ignore the aching in her legs which gave evidence to Albus' insistence that the ritual should go ahead.

As she pushed open the door to the chamber she was greeted by a small crowd of faces, all of which had the good sense to refrain from passing comment on her late arrival.

"Shall we, then?" asked Poppy at last. As the resident expert on health and general mother hen, she had taken the lead in coordinating both ingredients and individuals and had worked hard to prepare Minerva herself for her chief task – brewing the restorative potion which she was to consume.

In silence now, she lead the group to the site that had been prepared for the ritual, a clearing amongst the trees which clumped behind the Herbology greenhouses. In the middle of the clearing was a cauldron as well as a cloth on which a diverse array of ingredients and tools had been placed. Around this, a chalk circle had been drawn, punctuated in places by round cushions intended to help the witnesses remain comfortable throughout the long ritual.

Minerva waited for the ten to take their places before swiftly transfiguring her clothes into the single kaftan-like garment which was required and stepping into the circle, using the piece of chalk which Poppy handed her to close it with a line. Next she began to set about lighting a fire beneath the cauldron and adding ingredients in the order and manner which Poppy had advised.

It was a full two hours before all of the constituent parts had been added and Minerva was beginning to feel considerable fatigue. Taking advantage of the lull in activity as the potion simmered, she took deep breaths in preparation for the next phase. At least, a pungent steam began to issue from the cauldron, indicating that the potion was complete and ready for consumption.

As she had been instructed, Minerva filled a beaker with the hot liquid and sank to one knee to take her oath,

"Ego, Minerva Charlotte McGonagall, iuro ut malum facere non velim, sed luci veroque pugnabo.'

With that she took up a knife from the blanket and cut her hand, allowing some of her blood to fall into the beaker, bonding the potion to her. At this point she glanced around the circle, alerting the group with her eyes that the time had come for them to play their part.

All ten members of the circle then joined hands and began to focus on Minerva. Then Minerva raised the beaker to her lips and downed the foul-smelling liquid in one. As the potion breached her body, the ten began to chant in a low tongue and as one penetrated Minerva's body with their magic. As one, their energy surged into her and at once she collapsed to meet the hard earth, writhing as if overcome by great pain. Feeling nothing, but blinded by a white light that seemed to emanate from the circle itself, Minerva drifted in and out of consciousness. At last, a roar of sound tore through the air and was immediately followed by profound silence, silence which was soon broken by a light rain which touched upon their faces.

It was this that finally brought Minerva around. Sitting up slowly, she began to climb to her feet and walk to the edge of the circle, bending there to break the line and thus open the circle. Catching sight of her arm as she did this, Minerva's mind was filled by the image of a slender hand, free from veins or wrinkles.

Blacking out, she hit the ground once more.