A/N: I've had to take a bit of a hiatus. But, while on break, I started to realize that the fanfiction community is almost completely different from the one I participated in when I first started as a writer. This means that a great many of you missed out on classics that no longer exist (for one reason or another). And I recently reminisced two stories that I dearly loved by Jestana and Griselda Le Fey. These stories are both wonderful in their own right, but I don't honestly remember more than the barest bones of the stories, and I think I'm mixing them up as well. And since there are no extant copies of these wonderful tales, I've decided to spin an entirely new tale sharing a few ideas from each of the stories and adding my own. Don't get me wrong, I'm not stealing these stories outright. But there are exceptional plot points in them that, when jazzed up, make for a fascinating story. All of the original characters will be entirely of my creation.

All this is to say, I'm reimagining classic Albus/Minerva tropes from back in the day (c.2005), and it's going to be a fantastic ride.

For the full duration of the summer holiday, Minerva had honed her Transfiguration curriculum. This was her third year as a professor at Hogwarts, her second year teaching a NEWT-level class. The last two months had been poured directly into her now-flawless teaching plan, save for one weekend in Ireland with Poppy Pomfrey, also a recent hire at Hogwarts. Minerva had spent the entirety of the last six weeks cloistered in the echoing Scottish manse that was her family home.

Not that she had her pick of diversions. Her parents had chose to spend the summer on the Isle of Man, again. While Minerva was always ostensibly invited, she knew her parent's invitation to be half-hearted at best. A small reproach lurked behind this "invitation". It was the same reproach that laced each refusal from her Hogwarts and university friends. One by one they declined to visit the manor, always citing previous plans with lovers, spouses, and children. Minerva cringed at the tone of their reply, and the reproachful question it left unsaid.

Why didn't she have a family of her own?

And so, as a rejoinder, Minerva McGonagall completely revised and polished the Transfiguration curriculum at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

All of this was not to say Minerva stood without accomplishments. She had received an Order of Merlin, Second Class for her brave fieldwork as a mere Auror trainee during the war. She had obtained a Mastery of Transfiguration. This past year alone she had produced two articles in prominent peer-reviewed Transfiguration journals. Several members of the staff had complimented her on her teaching prowess. Even Albus Dumbledore, uncharacteristically reserved in his praise of her, had expressed his interest in her latest paper. Professor McGonagall was a woman wholly satisfied with her professional life. But when it came to matters personal, there was an ungainly void aching to be addressed.

Having just passed the jovial Headmaster on the way to her classroom, Minerva was absolutely preoccupied by this emotional void. That is why, upon entering what she believed to be her classroom, she failed to notice the physical void in the middle of the floor. In fact, Minerva only snapped from her daydreaming after a chunk of debris from the remains of the wall above hurtled just before her feet. Gasping, she finally took in what should have been her sturdy desk, straight-backed wooden chairs, cheerful hearth, and inviting window. In its place, Minerva saw only two crumbling walls, behind her and to her right, the third wall and half of the floor were completely gone, crumbled into the shadow of the dungeon. The fourth wall, on her left, was in the act of crumbling.

Just seconds after the first brick exploded before her feet, a second barrage struck her left cheek and shoulder, causing her to shriek in pain and surprise. Minerva fell to her knees. Seconds later, Albus Dumbledore was at the gaping door. In the blink of an eye, he had taken in the situation and was dragging Minerva back into the hallway. Once in safety, he ran into the adjoining room, all the while having Minerva carefully watch the miscreant room.

"Most unusual," He muttered, returning, " The adjacent classroom is perfectly in order." Noticing Minerva's sickly pale face, with a small stream of blood trickling from a gash on her cheek, he rushed to her side. "Are you hurt? I'm terribly sorry for not asking earlier..." He tried to help her stand, cutting off his apology.

Minerva pulled away as he hastily grabbed her by her shoulders, one of which was bloodied as well. Swiftly, Albus withdrew his hands and helped her up from her right side, "Let's get you to Poppy." Glancing back, he saw Minerva's new lesson plans scattered across the floor of her now-whole, pristine office. Rain was pattering against the window. "It's never a good sign when one has to call an emergency staff meeting first thing before a new term."

Minerva just barely bit back a moan as her head ached with the exertion of standing up so rapidly.

The Headmaster winced, "Welcome back to Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall."

/*\/*\/*\

The Staff buzzed in the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore had called the meeting there intentionally, hoping the collected wisdom of the Staff and the Portraits of former Headmasters could reach some revelation on the problem at hand.

Listening to the frenzied murmur in the room, Minerva was able to determine that her incident was not isolated. That morning alone, three other professors, Slughorn, Kettleburn, and Parelis had all had similar experiences in various parts of the castle. Slughorn found a whole corridor of the dungeons thrown back several centuries, to a time when students were punished in the cells down there. His face still blanched as he spoke of the moans. Kettleburn had been walking near the Forbidden Forest when he encountered an entire flock of Snidgets. Having been endangered for centuries, it was impossible that so many birds would have been in this area at once. He also swore that the wood looked more wild and forbidding than usual. Parelis had walked into his Arithmancy classroom to see it full of Seventh Years, but they weren't the seventh years for this upcoming term. They appeared to be the current batch of Third Years, grown five years.

Each of these stories were painstakingly written down by the bright, young new librarian, Irma Pince. Her golden curls bounced as she nodded her head, noting each detail. The portraits had all run to various parts of the castle to gather stories from the paintings in the affected areas. The paintings collaborated the stories, and one portrait had even seen Rowena Ravenclaw practicing wandwork in one of the oldest rooms in the castle. Still under the careful supervision of Madam Pomfrey, Minerva told of the crumbling office with support from Dumbledore. By the end of their story, the office was abuzz with tension. If the school was suffering a breakdown of this scale, surely it was unsafe to allow students to walk the halls in just two weeks. And the safety of the staff was clearly at risk as well.

Speedily, a plan was formed. The focus of all academic inquiry at this point was the problem itself. If parts of the castle were displaced in time, were there any other occurrences in Hogwart's history? This search would hopefully lead them to the cause. Dumbledore became a commander, much as he had during the war, doling out orders to the gathered staff. Madam Pince and Professor Binns were to compile a history of any and all abnormalities in Hogwart's structure. Hagrid, Kettleburn and Filch were to scour the grounds for any further events. Professor Von Stocker was to search for signs of Dark magic. Professors Parelis and Burbage were sent to seek out any significance in the numbers, dates, times and places revealed. Mercutio Framingham, the flying instructor, was sent to check the outside of the castle. Meanwhile, Filius, Minerva, and the Headmaster were set to studying the protective wards of the school extensively.

/*\/*\/*\

Poppy insisted Minerva spend the night under her watchful eye.

"You could still be suffering the ill effects of your concussion!" She clucked, "Student or not, I am responsible for the health of all who live in Hogwarts. Now we can make up a bed in your room for me, or you can come back to the Hospital Wing for the night." Poppy knew full well MInerva could not abide the antiseptic smell of the crisp white beds there.

"I suppose you can come back to my rooms," Minerva sighed, half-exasperated. Professor McGonagall valued her privacy, but it was hard to refuse the warm, practical amiability of Poppy Pomfrey. Over the few years they had been colleagues, Minerva came to regard the Mediwitch with the same fondness as a cup of tea: comforting, ubiquitous, and good for nearly every situation. Besides, the loneliness of the summer at McGonagall Manor had left her somewhat desirous of company.

Poppy settled in very quickly, and, after a perfunctory check-up on MInerva's mending wounds, she summoned a house-elf to order a small dinner of what she knew to be Minerva's favorite dishes. Minerva noticed the gesture, and warmed even more to her friend's intrusion. Over dinner, Poppy began to chatter about the summer. She went on about her short jaunt across the channel to Southern France, and the breathtaking Frenchman she encountered there.

"But it was not at all serious," Poppy grinned, "Except his body, that was seriously alluring." Her smile widened, "How about you? Manage to squeeze any romance into your summer?" She winked.

Minerva grimaced, "I'm fairly certain there are no men, wizard or muggle, within 100 miles of the Manor." She sighed.

"That must have been quite the bore during your younger summers." Poppy teased, "No men for miles?"

"Oh, I had a beau at Hogwarts during sixth and part of seventh year. Evan Rookwood. He was nicer than most of his family. He ended up in Ravenclaw, which nearly got him disinherited." Minerva's mouth twitched into a smile at the thought of that first, awkward romance.

"What happened to him?" Poppy was thrilled she had gotten Minerva to talk about something so personal as her love life. As a dedicated gossip, Poppy was frustrated at Minerva's reticence to share feelings. It had almost gotten to the point where Poppy wished the use of veritaserum was not so frowned upon for recreational purposes.

"Oh, kind and gentle as he was, he was still a product of his time and ancestry. He couldn't see the point in my getting a mastery in anything. My only job, in his eyes, was to raise our children and run his household." Minerva chuckled, " Needless to say, I put an end to that."

Poppy laughed, "Oh, la! I'll bet you did!" After her laughter began to subside, she continued, "I may not remember much about you from school, but I certainly remember that as Head Girl, you were not to be trifled with."

"Indeed," MInerva grinned, finishing up her plate and pouring herself a small glass of ginger ale. The two women moved from the small table to the main part of the sitting room. Minerva curled into her favorite high-backed leather chair, much like her animagus form. Poppy nestled into the adjacent overstuffed loveseat. Poppy broke the short silence.

"Is that it?"

"What?" Minerva roused herself from her day dreams.

"Is Hogwarts puppy love the full romantic history of Minerva Cerydwyn McGonagall?" Poppy was raising the ante now. If Minerva was not relaxed or exhausted enough, or too prickly from her earlier fiasco, she would fold in and pull out all together. But if, as Poppy was betting, she had had just enough of a jarring day, and was still a bit lonely from this summer, Minerva might open up to Poppy tonight. She studied the dark-haired witch's every movement.

"No." Suddenly, the table leaned in Poppy's favor, and Minerva continued. "I had short flings at Cambridge, two wizards and one muggle." Poppy opened her mouth, but Minerva didn't pause, "And no, you wouldn't know either of them, so I won't bother with their names." Her look brooked no argument.

"Well, I had a few romances during my medical studies as well," Poppy offered, "I even had a rather seriously relationship with a healer while I was still in training. We caused quite a stir." Poppy grinned.

"What happened to him?" Minerva was getting well into the spirit of the evening.

"She and I split up because... well," Poppy grew serious for a moment, "She couldn't understand that I liked both men and women, and I was hurt that she wouldn't let me meet her family." Poppy's grin had a sad tinge to it now.

MInerva successfully swallowed her shock, "That must have been difficult," Even though the action was counterintuitive for her, she reached a hand out to comfortingly clasp Poppy's hand. Poppy had once or twice remarked on the attractiveness of a witch, but she had never openly expressed interest in the same sex. The older Gryffindor was touched by the candid bravery of the gesture.

"Ah, yes, well..." Poppy seemed to drift back from her sea of memories, "I suppose we all have hard lessons to learn." She turned her gaze back to her companion. "What of you, my bonnie Scottish lass? Is your isolation metaphorical as well as physical? Is there anyone who warms the hallways of a certain Lady McGonagall's Heart?" This was her highest wager yet.

"Och, Poppy, I haven't time for such things!" Minerva flicked away the question, "I don't mind telling you I'm sick to death of that question. My Hogwarts classmates, my parents are all badgering me to find a man and settle down!" She huffed, "But I want to focus on my career. One day I may want children, but I have a lot of things I want to do first! But studying and teaching Transfiguration come first in my life. " She finished firmly.

This little explosion somewhat shocked Poppy. She had not expected Minerva to be quite so forthright with her. And yet, Poppy had the distinct feeling she was still holding something back. The Mediwitch doubled down on her wager, "You know, Minerva, it is possible to have a professional life and a romantic one as well." She nudged.

"Ah, that's a fantasy, Poppy," Minerva responded with the same dismissive pitch as before, "Even if I could get him to fall in love with me, there are far too many other..." A knock at the door cut off the conversation, just as Poppy was about to collect on her winning play. She had to swallow an audible groan of frustration as Minerva stood, with a bit of a wobble, to answer the door.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore!" Her voice became crisp and professional instantly. Poppy cursed Dumbledore for shattering all her hard work.

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall. I see Madam Pomfrey is keeping you company this evening." The auburn-haired wizard nodded to the sullen Mediwitch. She nodded back tersely.

"Good evening, Headmaster," She wished with all her will that he would leave.

"I am sorry for the late visit," He continued with a haste Poppy appreciated, "I merely wished to ask your assistance in checking the wards tomorrow after breakfast, Professor McGonagall," He smiled at Minerva. Her complexion had taken on a strange tint. At first, Poppy was medically concerned. Then, she realized Minerva was blushing! Suddenly, Albus Dumbledore's interruption became very fortuitous indeed.

"Of course, Headmaster," Minerva's brogue had thickened in her exhaustion, "I'll come to your office straight away," To the untrained eye, MInerva seemed only a bit tired. But Poppy knew something more was behind the stumble in her friend's words.

"After breakfast should be sufficient, Professor." Albus smiled, and the splotchy hue on Minerva's cheeks deepened to rose, "I will leave you in Poppy's capable hands. I bid you speedy recovery and good night!" It was a mercy he shut the door behind himself. Poppy was not sure Minerva could have gracefully executed the task. She stared at the closed door for a moment and then jumped to action.

"Well, I'm quite exhausted!" Minerva snag out on the way to her bedroom. "Do you mind if I have the bathroom first?" The bathroom door snapped shut without a reply. Instantly, like a bloodhound on the scent, Poppy was at the door.

"Of course, Minerva," She grinned, "But I will have to do one more round of tests before bed." She sat on her newly transfigured bed in Minerva's room. The trap was set, she simply had to bide her time.

Once Minerva was seated on bed, clad in her dressing gown, Poppy ran through the usual battery of test-spells.

"Your heart rate is a bit elevated," Poppy dead panned, "Are you feeling well?" Minerva nodded the affirmative as she reached for a glass of water by her bed. "Alright, that leaves only the memory test. What was the last thing you said to me before Professor Dumbledore knocked?"

Minerva blanched and choked on the water she was sipping from the glass, "I...I..."

"Take your time. Short term memory loss is common in concussion patients," Poppy snapped the trap closed, "I'll tell Professor Dumbledore you're not quite fit for duty yet."

Minerva was on to her now, and shot a deathly glare her way, "I don't see how it could possibly be medically relevant..." She muttered grudgingly. "I was discussing my belief that it is nigh impossible to get a wizard to fall in love with a witch devoted to her career." She sealed her lips in a thin, hard line.

"I seem to recall you being more specific," Poppy was in too far to give up now, "You mentioned a particular wizard. Do you remember his name?" She prodded.

"I distinctly remember not mentioning a name." Minerva returned, "On that point, my memory is not fuzzy in the slightest."

Poppy stepped back and sighed. Minerva had won, for now, "You appear to be in decent shape." She moved toward the bathroom. Suddenly, on impulse, she stopped. Without turning, she asked, "Will you ever truly open up to me Minerva?"

"There are some things one simply does not give voice to before their time." Was the crisp reply.

By the time Poppy came back from the bathroom, Minerva was fast asleep.