A/N: Ooh, hello all, I'm back in the wonderful world of Hermione/Minerva. The premise is somewhat overdone, however, I'm going to do it anyway, so feel free to let me know what you think. As always thanks be to Spin for taking the tiny framework of my story and building it up to what it is :D

Don't forget to check out EmPoweredBeing's Facebook page

w EmPoweredBeingsFanFiction

for all kinds of updates, thoughts, insider information that sort of thing…I promise to not bug you, I completely understand liking a page under one's "real" name, so see what you think :D

-0-

Hermione sighed as she pushed the hair from her face. She needed to get this potion perfect by tomorrow, so that if asked, she could do it without hesitation, but it was the one and only one she was having trouble with.

"How can it be so bloody difficult to brew an aging potion?" she muttered to herself as she chopped the handful of daisy roots the instructions requested.

In her huff, the knife slipped and she squealed when it sliced through her finger.

"Oh for GOODNESS sake!" she screamed, moving away from the bench to rant at a cushion the Room of Requirement had so kindly placed in front of her, while sucking her finger to stop the bleeding.

They'd been back at school for six months. The castle had been repaired to a workable standard, but all around there were reminders of what had transpired over the previous year. At almost every turn there was a plaque or a portrait of one of the brave people that had defended Hogwarts with their lives, and while to some it brought comfort, to others, like Hermione, it brought only pain.

Pain at the thought that she couldn't save everyone; pain at the thought that even though she was sad for them and their families, she couldn't help but feel selfish when she considered her own situation. Her parents were very much alive, but firmly ensconced in St Mungo's where the finest healers were slowly, but surely returning their memories to them. Even then, she knew they would never be the same, if they ever got all of them back, if they even remembered her. To her, that was as bad as losing them, for she was the one that put them in that situation in the first place.

That's why she enjoyed working in the Room of Requirement so much. She had thought that it may have been destroyed after the Fiendfyre was set on it, but as she was walking along the corridor one day, tearing her hair out trying to find some peace and quiet, the door had appeared and everything inside was just what she had always needed when studying. She had no idea how it had apparently fixed itself, nor how it managed to acquire the exact book she needed when she did, but she was eternally grateful to it, if one could be grateful to a room, but she was. Even with its scorched walls – the only reminder of what had happened last May – it still managed to cater for her every need, and made her feel welcome and safe within its walls. But everything had changed so much, and she was so tired that even the room couldn't always help lift her mood.

They had fought for equality, but somehow everything had simply gone back to the way it was. Purebloods were snobs, half-bloods were just trying to catch up, and the Muggleborns still didn't seem to have a chance, no matter how smart, funny, or lovely they were, and it was this thought that distressed Hermione the most. Because if nothing had changed, then what had they been fighting for?

She leaned against the wall, letting the tears fall as she looked blankly at her cauldron, still bubbling away harmlessly in front of her. She knew that she needed to get this right and soon, before the exhaustion of the day caught up with her. Or, at least, caught up with her some more.

"Right," she whispered, pulling herself together and pushing off the wall. "I am going to brew an aging potion if it kills me."

Nodding to herself she went back to chopping the daisy roots, marginally happier when they all ended up the same size, and placed them aside for when she needed them.

"Add daisy roots, stir four times clockwise before adding beetle wings," she said out loud, checking twice more that this was what she was meant to do.

This was the third time she had brewed this particular potion and both times previously it had melted her cauldron. She had gone to their new Potions professor, but she hadn't known why it wasn't working either. Besides which, the woman was far too enamoured with her own voice rather than with teaching them Potions, so Hermione resolved to figure out the solution on her own.

"What I wouldn't do for Professor Snape right now," she said, laughing ironically. "Okay, here goes."

Hermione upended the bowl of prepared ingredients into the cauldron and stepped back a moment when the liquid bubbled enthusiastically. What she had failed to take into account, however, was the blood she had spilled onto the roots when she had cut her finger, and completely oblivious to this new reagent, she stirred the potion once, twice, three times.

There was no time for a fourth.

The potion blew up in her face, covering her in it and making her gasp. She looked down at herself, feeling hysteria welling up in her chest as she tried in vain to scrape the worst of it from her skin.

"Oh no, no, no, no," she muttered, sprinting towards the door.

Except, the more she tried to run, the harder it seemed to be. She needed to get to Professor McGonagall; she'd know what to do. It occurred to her briefly that she missed the older woman. Before she and the boys had gone on the run, Hermione had enjoyed talking with her and had occasionally been invited for tea where they discussed the merits of Transfiguration, or anything else which sprang to mind. Now, though, the Professor was no longer teaching, and heading the school in Albus Dumbledore's stead. She missed their lessons, and she missed the woman herself.

But right now there were more important things to think about, and there was only one thought running through Hermione's mind: get to Professor McGonagall.

She tripped over something and she looked down to find the floor was much closer than it had been a moment ago, and her brain struggled to make sense of it. Looking back, she realised she'd tripped over her own shoe, which had mysteriously fallen off as she was running. Wriggling her toes that remained in her other shoe, she realised that her foot was MUCH smaller than it should have been, and the comprehension brought her to an abrupt stop just inside the door.

"Oh no," she whispered as she felt herself shrinking into her clothes. Hermione's tears were falling freely now as she realised what was happening.

"Oh, I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die!" she repeated over and over as her body became smaller, younger, until finally she couldn't really think in whole sentences, and then, no words at all.

She desperately wanted some comfort, someone to hold her, only she wasn't sure how to announce that, so she did the one thing that came naturally; the thing her brain was telling her to do.

She cried.

Loudly.

-0-

Minerva McGonagall was not a woman to sit idly on her hands, nor was she afraid of work. What she was afraid of, however, was becoming stale and decrepit in her old age, and that thought terrified her even as she replied to the fifth letter the Minister had sent her that afternoon.

It was getting late, and no matter what Kingsley wanted, she wasn't Albus Dumbledore, and she wasn't the Minister for Magic. If Kingsley wanted his job, then he would have to commit to it, a fact she told him in this latest missive. Sighing tiredly, she attached it to the owl's leg, making sure that it had a little treat before it left and a good scratch behind the ear. As someone who could turn into a cat, Minerva knew how difficult it was to get a good one sometimes.

Hooting gratefully, the owl flew off into the waning light, leaving Minerva watching its flight over the Black Lake. The grounds were still scarred with the evidence of the Battle of Hogwarts, and she desperately wished she could find the time to fix them. Hagrid was doing his best, but there was only so much fast-growing turf one could buy in the magical world, and it was nowhere near enough to cover the extensive grounds. Then, of course, there was the issue of the causeway that she had asked Neville and his band of followers to deal with; that was still unrepaired and as she cast her view out over her surroundings she felt a tear roll down her cheek.

"Have heart, my dear," Albus Dumbledore's portrait said softly. "It may all seem too much, but it will be done, and one day soon, Hogwarts will be back to all its former glory."

Minerva sighed and turned, smiling at her closest friend.

"I just don't know that I have enough energy to do it," she conceded, ignoring the look of astonishment on the other portraits' faces. "I have been doing this job for six months and I am bored out of my mind." She sighed, feeling completely jaded and walked slowly back across the room to sit at her desk. "I miss teaching, or doing something other than replying to Kingsley's questions; questions which I know he could answer himself if he just took the time." She dropped her head in her hands. "I have told him I will no longer be at his beck and call, so perhaps that will free up some of my time for other things, but what have I to do?" she wondered aloud, ignoring the pitying stares of the previous Heads.

"I take it not having a family is now a regret," Severus' portrait said softly. He wasn't saying it to hurt her, she knew, but it still stung a little despite that.

"It is indeed."

"Well, you are in no means an old woman Minerva, there is still time."

Minerva chuckled darkly.

"I am too old Severus, though I thank you for the compliment," she said smiling sadly. "As it is, I'm afraid I will have to find something else to occupy my time. Excuse me everyone."

Minerva bobbed her head to the rest of the portraits in the room, and smiled tightly at Severus and Albus, who were both wearing anxious looks on their faces as she left her office.

-0-

As soon as she exited the room, she transformed into her Animagus and padded down the stairs silently. It was far easier to get through the castle uninterrupted when in her cat form. If she kept her tell-tale markings from view, many people just assumed she was another pet and left her alone.

She had been wandering around for an hour or so when she stopped in her tracks and cocked her head to one side, her ears twitching as they picked up a noise that would not usually be heard in her school. There were not many students around – most of them had gone home to spend time with their families during the Christmas holidays – but this noise was definitely coming from the corridor behind her, and so, ignoring the gentle reminder that curiosity killed the cat, she went to investigate.

She crept silently down the hall, recognising it instantly as the corridor where the Room of Requirement could be found. She knew Neville had hidden there for most of the previous year with his band of guerrillas, but she had never been inside. Her tail was twitching as she edged round the corner, her every nerve ready to turn and run should she be confronted with danger. However, what she came upon was not something she ever expected to see, and for once in her life Minerva McGonagall did not really know what to do.

There on the stone floor, just by the wall, was a baby. A real, noisy, crying, naked, very much human baby. Minerva was certain that a cat's face couldn't show surprise, but she was fairly sure hers was at that point. The child was too young to have crawled there, and it was as naked as, well, as the day it was born, and so appreciating immediately how cold it could get up in this part of the castle, she transformed back into her human form and started forward, scooping the little girl up gently and more than a little awkwardly as she tried to remember how to hold a child that small.

"There now, it's all right," she said, frowning as she realised how cold the little thing was.

She shrugged off her cloak and shrunk it a little, faltering as she realised she wasn't sure how to place it around the child and hold her at the same time. She dithered for a long moment, and was completely thankful for it being the school holidays and that no-one saw her do so, until she had the brainwave that she could simply place the make-shift blanket on the floor.

"There now," she said with a smile as the baby seemed to snuggle into the small cloak, making Minerva's heart squeeze painfully.

Picking the child up gently, she smiled once more as she nuzzled into her chest, but despite the beautiful sensation she was once again confronted with her feelings on the subject of children. Hindsight had twenty-twenty vision, she knew that, and so she sighed, smiling as she brushed the little wisps of hair from the baby's head, pressing a kiss to the soft skin.

"Let's get you to Poppy and then we'll find your mother, all right?"

She strode purposefully to the hospital wing, ignoring the hushed whispered of the portraits as they spied a glimpse of Minerva McGonagall carrying a child.

"Poppy, are you in?" she called, wincing as she realised that the child in her arms was fast asleep.

"In here, Min."

She walked towards the sound of her voice and found Poppy in her office reading through some notes.

"Um, Poppy, I –"

"What on earth is that?" Poppy cried, standing up immediately and looking at Minerva like she'd grown a second head and a dragon's tail.

"Poppy, you of all people should recognise a baby when you see one," Minerva said with a smirk.

"Well, what in Merlin's name are you doing with it?"

"I am holding it Poppy, what do you expect me to do with it?" Minerva retorted, her face completely blank as she forced herself not to roll her eyes at her friend. "Would you like me to tell you why, or are you going to continue asking inane questions?"

Poppy, suitably chastised, waved Minerva into a seat and sat behind her desk listening intently.

"I was wandering the castle, when I happened upon the Fifth Floor corridor, hearing a noise I knew didn't belong. When I went to investigate, I found near to the entrance of the Room of Requirement a tiny, howling, naked child – this child," she said shifting slightly, "so I picked it up and brought it here."

She left out the panicking part, and the dithering. Not even her friend needed to know about that. She was Minerva McGonagall, after all.

"But whose is it?" Poppy asked as she rounded the desk, waving her wand over the baby.

"Well, if I knew that Poppy, I surely would have taken it – her – back to her mother, would I not?"

"Yes, but, I would have noticed, surely I would have noticed…" Poppy muttered as she read the words floating above Minerva and the baby.

"We know that the likelihood of a student bearing this child is high, however, let us not forget that we have a number of females teaching in the castle too, all of whom are more than capable of casting a simple notice-me-not charm."

Poppy snorted as she lifted the child from Minerva's arms, smiling as it fussed quietly.

"Probably the all-important Madam Roberts," Poppy said, rolling her eyes at Minerva's slightly amused expression. "Why on earth did you hire her Minerva? She is so enamoured with the sound of her own voice it is incredibly hard not to give her a permanent case of laryngitis."

Minerva smirked but didn't comment. She'd hired Miss Roberts, simply because nobody already on staff wanted the job of teaching Potions, and none of the external candidates really seemed to come close to the calibre of Severus, bad temper notwithstanding.

"If you wouldn't mind Poppy, I think I will go and talk with them all, individually, just to make sure we aren't missing something – unless you want to tell me something, dear friend?"

"HA!" Poppy laughed, giggling still as Minerva waited, a smile upon her face. "You know as well as I that I do not, and you are more than welcome to check with William if you like," Poppy sassed, sticking her tongue out at her friend.

"Very mature, my dear," Minerva said with a wink. "I knew, though I had to ask."

"In that case, Minerva, I –" Poppy stopped mid-sentence as she realised what she was going to say, and frowned as she tried to form the words she needed to apologise.

"Don't worry Poppy," Minerva said understandingly. "It's all right."

"Min, I –"

"Please don't," Minerva said looking at the baby again, to avoid her friend's eyes. "I'll be back, take care little one."

It did not take her long to talk to her colleagues. She laughed at some of their reactions, many of them acting as the children would no doubt, and that reminded Minerva that she would have to talk to each girl that had remained in the castle over Christmas before the start of the new term. Only one of them could have borne the child, and she hoped vehemently that they were all right. She knew childbirth was dangerous and she only wished that she could talk to them gently but firmly, allowing them to be as open with her as possible.

It wasn't lost on Minerva that, despite her reputation she would need to have a gentle and sensitive conversation with each girl and for a brief moment she contemplated making Poppy do it. She shook her head as she re-entered her office, sighing as she closed the door.

"Minerva? Is what I hear true? Is there a baby in the castle?" Albus asked, studying her face intently.

"Don't look at me like that, Albus. There is indeed, and it does not belong to any of the faculty, despite Madam Roberts insisting she brew a heritage potion to prove it."

Severus snorted and rolled his eyes, making Minerva smile.

"That woman wouldn't know how to brew a simple hiccupping draught if it smacked her in the face. Honestly Minerva, did you have to hire her?"

"Severus, you are no longer here, you have created such a chasm in the Potions world that there was nobody else for the job," Minerva said in a rare show of sideways love for the former Potions professor.

"Well," he said, his lips twitching as they threatened to form a smile.

"Careful Severus, the wind will change and you shall be stuck like that."

They were interrupted by a Floo-call and Poppy's voice floating through the office, barely making herself heard over the noise of a screaming baby.

"MINERVA! Are you back yet?"

"I am here," she replied, squinting, trying to work out what Poppy wanted.

She didn't have to wait long as a flustered Poppy walked from the flames holding what must have been the loudest baby in the world, its cries filling up the office and startling some of the portraits, despite their curiosity.

"Gracious me," Albus said looking raptly at the child.

"Poppy what are you doing?" Minerva asked loudly over the screams.

"She will not stop crying! I have fed her, I've given her clothes, she is clean and dry, but she won't stop. Minerva, I have three Slytherins in the ward with charmed toilet seats around their heads. Every time I try to pull them off, they give them, and me, a mild electrical shock. Here, hold her."

And like that Minerva's arms were suddenly filled with a tiny, screaming baby, but as soon as the child noticed the change of environment, there was deadly silence in the room. She cooed happily, pushing her head against Minerva's ribcage and sucking its fist.

"Um, goodness, okay then," Poppy said, frowning at the child. "Please do not take this the wrong way Minerva, but," Poppy glanced at Albus' portrait, and then Severus' before looking back at Minerva, "that is odd."

Minerva wasn't listening. She was staring down at the child, at the beautiful dark eyes staring tiredly up at her and she took the little hand from the baby's mouth and substituted it for the knuckle of her little finger, smiling serenely as she felt the child sucking on it.

"I think she may be hungry again," Minerva said quietly. "Do you have something to feed her with?"

Hours later, Minerva would kick herself for not seeing the silent conversation passing between Poppy, Albus and Severus as she stood rocking the child gently.

"Yes," Poppy said, and she disappeared into the flames and returned again with a small box of items that Minerva refused to even acknowledge at that point. Still smiling at the child's behaviour, she wandered over to her high back chair, muttering the words and concentrating fiercely as she wandlessly Transfigured it into a rocker, and she sat down carefully and leant back, finally looking up only to see Poppy with an odd expression on her face. She accepted the bottle from her in silence and placed the teat near the baby's mouth, smiling happily when the little mouth opened and clamped down on it enthusiastically.

"Gracious me," Poppy said quietly, breaking Minerva's concentration.

"Yes?" Minerva asked, looking up to see the portraits and her friends looking at her with awe on their faces.

"Min, I know I don't need to tell you, but don't get too attached. I mean, it could be one of the student's, or, I just don't know, but please don't get too emotionally involved with this." Poppy sighed at the look on Minerva's face. "Having said that, I need someone to look after her, and well, everyone else is busy teaching."

Minerva looked up sharply as the words filtered through her brain.

"You want me to what?"

"Well, look at her, she is totally happy in your arms, and you have a way with her. I think, considering you haven't any teaching duties at the moment, that you should care for her until we find her mother."

"Poppy, I don't know the first thing about rearing a child."

"You do not have to bring it up," Albus said with a smile, "just care for it, dear friend."

"Yes Minerva, you were saying just an hour or two ago that you wanted something more constructive to do. This provides you with the perfect opportunity to get your teeth stuck into something."

Minerva stared at her friends and former colleagues, completely astounded with what they were suggesting, but a small, rather loud part was insistently saying that it was a good idea, that they were right and that she could do this, and so she took a deep breath, looking into the tiny child's eyes which were rather expressive for one so young, and nodded her consent.

"What? Poppy, I'm not sure if my eyes are working as well as they did when I was actually in my body, but did the great Minerva McGonagall just nod?"

"I think she did Severus," Poppy said with a smile. "If you need me, I'll be in the hospital wing trying to remove the improvised shock collars from our Slytherins."

Minerva merely snorted, her concentration returning to the baby in her arms.

"Who are you, my darling?" she said, more to herself than the child. "And what on earth are we going to do with you?"

The baby didn't reply of course, but it did meet her eyes and Minerva found herself smiling once more, laughing to herself at the thought that she had smiled more in the last hour than she had in the last two, or even three years.

"Well, you are certainly beautiful," she said quietly, standing from her chair and moving up to her rooms, ignoring Severus and Albus' attempts to speak to her. "I will try and find your mother tomorrow, but in the meantime, how about you go to sleep, and I will be right here with you the whole time?" she said softly, ignoring any feelings of stupidity for explaining herself to a baby.

"That's it baby, just sleep, I'll keep you safe," she whispered as she watched the child in her arms close her eyes.

With not another sound, the baby was fast asleep, bringing Minerva to another problem. It – she – needed somewhere to rest.

"Winky?"

Within a second, a small house elf was stood before her, decked out in one of Hogwarts' finest tea towels.

"Yes Mistress?"

"Could I have a cot please, and, yes a cup of tea too, if you would."

She could see Winky trying not to stare at the baby, and although she knew that the little elf had cared for children before, she wanted to be the one to do it, wanted to be the one this child relied on, so she kept the baby in her arms as Winky snapped her fingers, producing a beautiful dark-wood cot, complete with a magical mobile that Minerva couldn't help but smile at.

"Thank you Winky," she said kindly as the house elf placed her tea on the side table. "I will call you if I need anything else."

"Yes Mistress," Winky said, stealing one more glance at the baby before popping out of the room.

"Now," Minerva whispered to the sleeping baby. "To bed with us."

Minerva placed the child in the cot, shifting it closer to the bed and soothing the little baby with her hand on its belly.

"There, child. Sleep well."

She didn't even take a sip of her tea before her eyes closed and she fell into slumber herself, not hearing the pop as the small house elf arrived back in the room, peering intently into the cot while she slept.

-0-

Winky had been looking after children her whole life. She had cared for Master Barty and many others before that, and she was interested to take a closer look at the baby in front of her. Her big eyes widened even more as she realised what she was looking at, and she bounced anxiously on the spot trying to figure out what to do next.

She popped into her Mistress' office and stood before the painting of Great Wizard Dumblydore, knees shaking, even though she knew he was now a portrait.

"Ah, Winky, what can I do for you?"

Winky squeaked and pulled on her ears, not knowing whether to divulge the information she had just gathered, or simply go back to the kitchens and get on with her duties.

"Beggin' your pardon, Master Dumblydore, but, the baby that be's with Mistress?" She waited a moment as the Professor nodded slowly. "It's not a real baby."

The portraits erupted into a cacophony of noise as they all shouted questions to the house elf.

"WHEN YOU ARE ALL QUITE FINISHED!" Severus said, his most irate voice cutting through the din.

"Thank you, Severus," Albus said quietly, turning back to the little creature, now cowering on the floor. "Winky? Winky, it's okay, I need you to tell me what you mean. How can it not be a real baby?"

"I's sorry Professor Dumblydore, it is a baby, I's meaning its human, but it's not only just being born."

"Do you understand any of this, Albus?" the snarly Potions Master asked, glaring at Winky, who could not stop trembling.

"Enough," Albus said, halting the portraits from talking before they could start again. "What do you mean? Are you saying it's older than it looks or –?"

Winky sighed despite her fear, for such a great wizard he wasn't very bright.

"I is saying that the baby is old, and only looks like a baby."

"Oh dear," Professor Dumbledore said quietly.

"Albus, I don't understand, and that is odd, considering my intellectual prowess."

"Severus, I believe what Winky is trying to say is that the baby Minerva has in there is not a baby at all, but is an adult, or an older child, only in the form of a baby. Is that correct, Winky?"

"Yes, Master Dumblydore."

"Dear Merlin," The former Potions professor cursed quietly. "Do you know who it is?"

Winky shook her head sadly.

"I cans tell it's someone I have met before, but I don't be knowing them well enough to tell who."

The room was deathly silent as every set of eyes, both painted and real, watched the former Headmaster process the information and provide them with a solution.

"We," he paused, frowning as he contemplated his words. "We will not tell Minerva."

The room erupted once more as the portraits demanded to know why, or argued for the Headmistress.

"Albus, you can't be serious?"

"What on earth are you talking about man, when she finds out she will most likely torch your portrait!"

"Good show, let her have her moment," one portrait replied in the dying stages of the arguments around the room.

"Winky, I forbid you to tell Minerva McGonagall of what you know."

Winky tugged on her ears as she nodded.

"I understands, Master."

"Good, now, off you go," he said kindly, smiling as she popped back to wherever it was that house elves went at night.

"Albus, what are you doing?" Severus asked when Winky had disappeared. "You are playing with lives again, and I'm not sure I can allow you to do that to Minerva."

"Why Severus, you must be careful, you are becoming soft in your death."

"Albus, I –"

"Relax Severus, I know that you are only trying to care for her, as am I. Tomorrow, Minerva will no doubt take a head count and work out who is missing from the castle, and then we will know who it is, and the child will be returned to their parents. Just," Albus sighed once more, "just let her enjoy this, Severus. She has had precious little happiness in the last few years."

"Fine," Severus huffed, "but should I find that it is hurting her in any way I will tell her, you cannot order me not to."

"Fair enough my boy, fair enough."

The room was finally quiet as the portraits dozed, eager to see what was going to happen in the morning.