Chapter One
The Before
     Minerva Mcgonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor and the Transfiguration department at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was well-respected in the wizarding world. The past few years her main focus has been stopping one of the most powerful and evil wizards of all time, Voldemort or as most call him He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Mcgonagall is a tall woman always with her hair in a neat bun and a strict look on her face. She follows and enforces rules, morals never wavering. But, as of today, Professor Minerva Mcgonagall, steady as a stream, was undone.
     “Wha- wha- wha- what do you mean he is gone, he can’t be gone,  he is He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, he doesn't go away, he is too powerful, this must be a mistake... just gossip, yes, gossip, thats it, Lily and James are safely in hiding and He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is out seeking more than his share of power... a measly 1 year old tike can’t bring him down, it must be gossip, just gossip, this, this, this, this, is just… no, we’ve been trying for years to stop him, he couldn’t go this easily, not after what he's done, no, it can't be true, it just can't! Arthur, where is Albus, I need to speak to Albus, yes he will know the truth, where is Professor Dumbledore?”.
“Professor are you all right? You look faint, here have some water.”, said Arthur Weasley.  A worker at the Ministry of Magic with a fascination for muggle, or non magic, culture. He was the one to give Professor Mcgonagall, what should have been, wonderful news.
     “I don’t need water, I need Professor Dumbledore and answers, he can't just be gone!”
     Fighting Voldemort was one of the hardest things she has ever had to do. Day and night for years it was her main focus. Strategy, battle, death, morning repeat; had been the schedule for most of those trying to bring Voldemort down. Knowing that it was over was beyond a shock.
     Her body’s revulsion had happened only once before. Minerva knew that for the next while, she would be incapacitated and unable to reach Professor Dumbledore.
     Currently she and the rest of the living members of the Order of the Phoenix, a secret organization dedicated to fighting Voldemort’s corruption, were located in a special room at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The room, besides being secret to most, is the best place for their headquarters because it provides the perfect space for the inhabitants needs, hence its name: The Room of Requirement.  Currently the room has taken a large dome shape with  several smaller rooms surrounding it. There were conference rooms, combat training rooms, medical attention centers, bedrooms and kitchens for those forced to live there, bathrooms and of course the great room. The great room had made itself into a living/dining room with grand tapestries covering the ancient walls, a lengthy wooden dining table and numerous seats and sofas around a grand stone fireplace sitting below a gold-encrusted Hogwarts crest.
     Unpleasant reactions to the news of Voldemort’s seemingly endless crimes was a common occurrence in the Order headquarters, but not for Professor Mcgonagall. She was always prepared for the worst and, until now, had never been thrown off guard by the damage caused from Voldemort’s followers who call themselves, Death Eaters. So for Mcgonagall to be stuttering, shaking and in a panic over what should be good news turned heads. 
     Arthur Weasley was the first to recover from his shock.
     “Professor why don't you come and sit on the couch first, calm down a bit, you don't seem well and your hands are shaking like mad!”
     “No, No, I must go see Dumbledore, where did you say he was?”
     “I didn’t say, please sit down, breathing that fast will make you faint. I’ll explain it all again if that helps, but first, you need to sit down.”, Arthur always had a knack for creating peace in chaos. Mcgonagall’s body betrayed her mind. She begrudgingly took a seat on the velvet sofa closest to the door, which was a good idea because she was both shaky and lightheaded.
     It took roughly an hour for Mr. Weasley to re-explain the recent series of events while shooing away the rest of the Order, pathetically gaping at the sight of their once tough-as-steel hero in ruins as they were. He only stopped when Minerva had fallen asleep from exhausting all her energy in a tornado of disbelief.
     “I’ve never seen her this frazzled before she’s always so put together,” commented Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley’s wife. 
     Panic attacks are common for muggles, which is why Arthur caught on so quick  but will occasionally happen to a half-blood such as Professor Mcgonagall. Most of the Order had never seen one and were, understandably, alarmed. Mad-Eye Moody, an accomplished auror/ dark wizard catcher, wanted to take her to St. Mungo's Hospital while she was unconscious. That idea was shut down fast by the rest of worried crowd not wanting to leave her side.
     The next morning all the overnight residents at the Order did all they could to have Mcgonagall stay and rest longer, to little success. Her determination was too strong and as soon as Mundungus Fletcher slipped where Dumbledore would be next, she was gone. Number 4, Privet Drive, Surrey. An odd muggle neighborhood but Professor Mcgonagall didn’t ask questions, Dumbledore always has his reasons.
     As soon as she was beyond Hogwarts magical borders she apparated a few streets away from Privet Drive. That way she could transform into her signature tabby cat with spectacle shaped coloring around her eyes without notice.
     It was Dumbledore who helped her with the lengthy process of becoming an animagus, or witch/ wizard with the ability to shapeshift into an animal. Professor Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore always took a liking to Mcgonagall, even when she was a measly first-year at Hogwarts and they have only gotten closer. More so since Mcgonagall resigned from  her previous job at the ministry to work as a professor for Hogwarts. Thinking of their bond helped calm Minerva down during the short walk to Privet Drive.
     Almost having past by it, a confused Mcgonagall did a double take, at the number 4 located on the closest mailbox. The street around her had perfectly manicured lawns and gardens. All the houses matched; tan with brown shutters. There were minivans in every driveway and it seemed as if no kids had ever played anywhere near the street.
     Why in Merlin's name would Dumbledore come here, maybe I’m in the wrong place. This morning was a blur, but… no I’m positive this is exactly where Mundungus said he would be.
      Luckily a map blew by to double check her location. But before Mcgonagall could contemplate any further, a car started to back up in the driveway. Normally the driver would seem like any other guy going to work. He had a mustache, no neck and seemed to be on the beefier side of healthy, in other words, perfectly average.
     He must have some importance if Dumbledore needed to be at his house?
     For the rest of the afternoon Minerva Mcgonagall sat studiously on the rock wall at the front of the driveway awaiting Dumbledore’s arrival. It was unbearable but she never budged. Left with only thoughts from the previous day, an escape of the mind was the only solution. So, she watched the family in the house go about their boring business.
     The house, on the inside was barely decorated. There was a living room with one couch and one chair where the news was playing. Further inside a yellow and white kitchen was visible with seemingly nothing on the counters. A woman, almost painfully thin, was tending a reckless baby in the kitchen. He couldn’t have been older than 1 and appeared just as porky as his father. The boy fussed, she gave him more food, he cried at the sound of the vacuum, she swept instead, he broke a toy, she found 2 more. In Mcgonagall's mind these were the worst kind of muggles. No ambition and too big of a reminder of what Minerva would have been; a housewife.
     A lifetime ago Minerva Mcgonagall had fallen in love with a muggle. She kept her witch side a secret for the duration of the relationship. There are laws enforced by the Ministry of Magic to keep muggles from knowing of the wizarding world and to have told him would only have caused him harm. But he was her great love, so it only made sense that she accepted his marriage proposal. But Minerva couldn’t go through with the engagement. She had watched her mother suffer her whole life trying to hide magic from her husband. Minerva was the best in her class at Hogwarts and refused to go through her mother's pain first hand. Once the engagement was called off, Mcgonagall accepted a job in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the Ministry, and hated it. That was the darkest time in her life.
     As the day continued so did Minerva’s resentment of the muggles she’d been watching. Nonetheless she waited patiently for Dumbledore’s arrival. The man with the mustache returned from work at 5:30, his wife already had dinner on the table. Chicken breast with peas and a baked potato.
     Geez even their food is boring!
     Just as night had fallen and Professor Mcgonagall was beginning to think of how Mundungus might have given her a false address until a man like no other to set foot on Privet drive apparate out of nowhere.  He is a tall man with a white beard long enough to tuck into his belt. He arrived in full wizarding robes of purple and gold, unmistakable half-moon spectacles and a short hat upon his head. Dumbledore is the Headmaster at Hogwarts and is an active participant in legal matters at the MInistry of Magic.
     Finally, She thought as he strolled her way.
Chapter 2
The After
     It was true.
     Dumbledore confirmed everything Arthur had said. Somehow Voldemort found James and Lily’s hide out and killed them on his mission to destroy Harry. When he got to the boy something had gone wrong. No one knows what happened between Harry and Voldemort that night. All that's known is that somehow, some way, Voldemort is gone! Even Dumbledore didn’t have an explanation!
     After all those people…  parents, children, members of the Order, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named killed or worse. And he wasn’t able to kill a baby? Poor Lily and James, barely 21 and dead. Poor Harry off to live with those horrible muggles when he would be treated like royalty in any wizarding home. Albus may be right that it will be better for his ego not to grow up as such but still. For Harry it’s going to be a long 10 years.
     James and Lily had been favorite students of Mcgonagall and Dumbledore alike. Though James and his friends were trouble makers, their hearts and heads were always in the right place. When they came asking how to become animagi just out of “curiosity” Professor Mcgonagall turned a blind eye to their note taking and explained the lengthy process. Lily, a muggle born, brighter than any witch or wizard her age. She had always been sharp as a tack. When it came time to pick prefects she had no competition.
      The next few weeks were painful. Huge changes in Mcgonagall’s life are not welcomed in the slightest. But, she had dealt with them before and doing it again will only be slightly less excruciating than last time.
     Now what? Do I just… go home? I probably should. I need to rest. Tomorrow I’ll figure out what’s next.
    So she went to her home, a quaint cottage in London. Minerva didn’t have a spouse or child, living in the house was just Mcgonagall and her cat, James between school years. Decently cozy with a fireplace and books galore. The house was pleasant, but it was just that, a house, not a home. At this time what Minerva needed is a home.
     After a cup of tea, Mcgonagall packed up her trunks with clothes, books, and everything else necessary for her to move into Hogwarts earlier than usual. Professors typically moved in a week before September the 1st, the day the students arrive. That way they can settle in, prepare their first few lessons, set up their classrooms, etc.
     Tonight may be early to move in but I can’t stay here. Not now, tonight what I need is the warmth of my quarters in Hogwarts. I should also tell the Order that Dumbledore has confirmed that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is gone and… oh, they don’t even know about Harry having to stay with those dreadful muggles.
     An hour later Mcgonagall had all her things packed up and was inside her quarters, nesting. The space given to her to live during the school year had become her home. The tapestries on the walls, her broomstick in the corner, the wooden dresser with transfiguration books atop, and the four poster bed with a maroon and gold comforter. Hogwarts is where she ishome.
     Once all her possessions were orderly and in their place, Mcgonagall headed to the Room of Requirements. She wanted to greet the members of the Order and see what they might have left from dinner because hunger had hit with a sudden ferocity.
     She didn’t get to the Room of Requirement.
     Filius Flitwick appeared in the hall on his way to check on Mcgonagall. They had been colleagues for several years now and were profesional friends. Flitwick was head of Ravenclaw and taught charms class at Hogwarts. He is a very short man, measuring around 3 feet tall with a bowl cut and mustache. One of the  more social and optimistic professors at Hogwarts.
     “Mcgonagall, how are you?”, he sounded genuinely concerned.
     “Better than before.”, was all she could manage since Minerva still felt shaken up.
     “How is the rest of the Order Filius?”
     “They are all right, just worried about you and how your visit with Dumbledore went. To be honest, I think they were just as curious as you were about what Dumbledore would have to say. If your feeling well enough, I’m sure they would love an update,” Flitwick said with a good-natured chuckle.
     “Absolutely, I was just on my way there now,”.
      Mcgonagall was greeted by a mob of eager witches and wizards. She spent the greater part of the evening going over her meeting with Dumbledore and answering their never ending questions.  Molly Weasley was particularly concerned about Harry being left with the muggle family, claiming she would have taken him in and raised him, with a hint of resentment and exhaustion in her voice. By midnight it was just Flitwick and Mcgonagall left in the great room. They were bonding over the fact that they were both hatstalls during their sorting. A hatstall is a rare occurrence when the sorting hat that decides which house, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff, a students goes in, takes over 5 minutes to decide where to place them.
     “It took 7 minutes before the Sorting Hat chose Ravenclaw,” said Flitwick proudly.
     “Wow, what other house was it choosing between?” Mcgonagall had a guess but just wanted to see if she was right.
     “Gryffindor actually,” he said bowing his head a little at Mcgonagall since Gryffindor is her house.
     “Really, I would have guessed Hufflepuff. My hatstall was the opposite actually. The Sorting Hat took forever debating between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.” Mcgonagall said with ease. She was finally beginning to relax little by little.The two professors spent the rest of the night talking about their experiences as students as Hogwarts versus being a teacher.
     From that point on they became very good friends. Filius also ended up becoming a critical part in adjusting Mcgonagall back into a simpler life. It was now a few weeks into the first term.  After her first practical lesson on turning toothpicks into needles with first-years, Mcgonagall was exhausted.
     How do they manage to turn a toothpick into a quill but not a needle! Every year the mistakes never cease to amuse me. What’s that? Who would be sending me a letter at this hour? I hope it isn’t Madam Pomfrey saying one of my students had hid an injury from me again.
     The letter was not from Madam Pomfrey but Dumbledore, it read;
        Minerva, We haven't had the chance to catch up for weeks. How does lunch at the Three Broomsticks sound this Saturday?
-Albus
    Wow, has it really been that long? Come to think of it, maybe it has!
   With all the start of the year chaos, they hadn’t spend as much time together as usual. Minerva gladly sent a letter back accepting his invitation.  So as Saturday afternoon rolled around Mcgonagall made her way to the 3 Broomsticks.
     The 3 Broomsticks is a popular restaurant and pub at the border between, the muggle town of London and the wizarding town of Hogsmeade. It has similar decor to Hogwarts in that they both have stone and brick walls, dim lighting and beautiful, long, wooden tables.  In addition, the 3 Broomsticks has stools at the bar and seats at tables with fake, red velvet tops, constantly being filled by all sorts of Witches and Wizards passing by.           
      “Minerva! I see you at last! How have you been? Last I heard, you and Flitwick were getting along just swimmingly.” said Dumbledore with open arms. They embraced like only old friends do and went to find an open table to sit at, butterbeers in hand.
     “I’ve been fine, busy that's all. And yes Filius and I have been spending much more time together. He’s actually very pleasant company if you don’t feel like talking much.”
     “Yes, I guess that is true”, said Dumbledore with a chuckle.
     “Not what I meant however. I was wondering how you’ve been adjusting. Has it been any easier than last time?” Dumbledore was obviously referring to when Minerva had come to him for friendship and a job at Hogwarts after she left her ministry job.
     “A little bit, having Filius around is what has helped me the most and also having class start up so soon helped. But it's still such a shock to think that little Harry Potter killed You-Know-Who” MInerva was being mild about how hard it had been, conveniently leaving out her panic attack. Worrying Albus would have no benefits.
     “Well yes, it is hard to believe that Harry could have killed him.” replied Dumbledore with his usual dramatic flair, patiently waiting for Mcgonagall to ask what he meant.
     “Do you think he’s still alive?” panic was creeping in Mcgonagall’s voice.
     “I’m not sure, my guess is that he is neither dead nor alive. I don’t believe that there was enough human in him to die as, say, you or I could. My guess is that he is hiding somewhere, powers stripped, to weak to carry on. Probably biding his time until he is strong enough to return. Lemon drop? Dumbledore’s arm was extended with a small, yellow, sucking candy in his hand. There was no stress in his voice, only a touch of sadness.
     “What!” is all she could manage.
     “Not to worry, he will be no threat for years to come, possibly a whole generation if we are lucky. But let's change the topic, your eyes are as wide as my lemon drop. How are the first-years adjusting so far?” Dumbledore had realized his mistake too late and did all he could to lead the conversation away. They talked for a couple of hours covering quidditch, a wizarding sport played on broomsticks, the gardens blooming at Hogwarts, and the latest issue of Transfiguration Today. None of which fully steered Mcgonagall’s attention away from Dumbledore’s comment.
     Not fully gone. Okay I can live with that. Maybe he’ll never rise. It's not likely though. That’s okay,g that’s okay, that I can deal with. The Order and especially Dumbledore will be able to figure this out. And like Dumbledore said maybe it won't be my generation leading the fight. By the time he arrives again there will be all kinds of young, strong, passionate witches and wizards. For now I can focus on teaching and friends. It's going to be okay. I’m going to be okay.
     And when the time came for the Order of the Phenix to reassemble, she was indeed back to being steady as a stream.