Chapter 1

Had it been, by any chance, a normal morning here in Hogwarts? If it were, then surely
something must have been wrong for a place of magic such as this school, no morning will ever
be normal. That type of norm could only be found in the Muggles’ world only. And today, the
day was difference for a student young and witty, intellect compared –above, may be the right
word but she was never the one to brag –her chosen companions, things were going a bit out of
ordinary.

She had woken quite restful and ready for today compared to the past days after their ‘little’
event –in which she means causing trouble because of the Philosopher's Stone incident –and with
the term almost at its peak, her bond with Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, and Ronald Weasley,
the one to be known as quite a air-head but compassion (yet still could be such irritating boy) can
be a handful for Hermione Granger.

It was a weird way to start the soon-to-be-finished term but alas, Hermione welcome it.

Though it is a wonder for her to feel this giddy, to have such roommate as a talkative Lavender
Brown and Parvati Patil and have them two already buggering about their gossips and crushes,
their voice nagging in the background –truly, it’s a miracle she had not yet lost her plot with the
those two around –but nevertheless, Hermione was happy to feel lighted, as if problems was
lifted off her shoulder.

It was like, something in the air gave her a promise that... that this day will be different.

She headed to the Great Hall with a smile then, some had greeted her now that she's known to be
friend with the famous Harry Potter, some were teacher and some were polite kids that were
happy as she was, and she had return them with ‘Hello’s and ‘Good morning’s.

To see the hall not yet occupied by noisy students (it is quite early), she sat down in the
Gryffindor’s table, awaiting the arrival of her friends. It’s been a fantastic experience here in
Hogwarts, truly magical –it still gives Hermione flips in her stomach in the thought of herself
being a witch despite being one almost a year now –and despite the incident that had occurred,
with the troubles of You-know-who's schemes and the two’s heroism and stupidity, she manage
to keep her ‘know-it-all’ persona, having her grades high as she can.

Hermione was proud and hope that her Muggle parents will be too.

There was a sudden commotion as a pack of student enters the Great Hall, Hufflepuffs and some
Gryffindor, and among them are Harry and Ron, following behind. It was obvious what they
were babbling about, the upcoming Quidditch game between the two houses themselves. Perhaps
it was that unusual thing that Hermione is feeling, a game in the end of the year is... told to be
new since the school should be preparing for the end of the school year and focus on the exams.
It had been a special occasion as Professor McGonagall had said last week when the Headmaster
had announced such event as a goodbye for the student this year.

And, as this announcement had told to all, the Professor herself had acted strangely, as if
anxious. Hermione, without her intention of course (she wouldn’t dare disrespect ones’ privacy),
had needed to pass the Transfiguration Classroom to continue her way to her destination –the
library, where else? And she may have heard Headmaster Dumbledore and her own favored
teacher talking.

It had been weird, perhaps, if the argument were meant to be secrecy between them, they have
forgotten to put a silencing spell. Hermione only heard a few things, as if the castle's walls were
trying to silence the sentences exchanged between the adults themselves, and she’s certain she
heard “She’ll comeback soon –of course I’m –she said it herself!” from Professor McGonagall
and heard the faint voice of the Headmaster responding.

“I know, that is why –that way, as she wished –”

But the woman had cut him off, belting “But that is outrageous, Albus! Her –cannot be
revealed!”

And which the man answered “Can’t you see, Minerva this way I’ll be able to –”

But Hermione heard no more as she continue her way upon noticing that she had stop her track
upon hearing the voices. Again, she respects their privacy and did not eavesdrop more.

With this little knowledge –and curiosity installed to her –Hermione had observed her Professor
enough to pinpoint an anxious woman in each mention of the Quidditch game, yet something
glint in those emerald-eyes. Hermione might be still young to know, but her habit to read
everything there is –and her mother’s romance novel were no exception, they didn’t survived the
brunette’s curiosity –had define those glints as longing, hope and the hint of uncertainty.
Whoever ‘she’ might be, they were causing the woman to be distracted in each inch of time,
even in class.

Even the Headmaster himself seems off at some time, though his differences shown were
constant excitement.

Of course, no one seems to have noticed –except Hermione that is –and the days had gone on as
they can be for the upcoming summer.

She wasn’t aware that she was in trance, only been woken from it by a familiar, soft voice calling
“’Mione!” in a worried tone. Hermione glance at the boy, his bright green eyes were the first
thing she sees, and had look at him dumbfounded.

“Y-yes?” she manages to speak, though it sounded like a yelp.

“Is there something wrong?” Harry pondered with a frown.

Upon his arrival with Ron, he had spotted the girl alone in the table, a constant reminder that the
girl’s circle of friend only contain him and Ronald, and had approach her with a greeting, in
which she did not return. He exchange glance with the Weasley but the boy had noticed nothing
–observation seems to be the boy’s lacking trait. Again, he called for her, and again, and the third
time did caught Ron’s attention as he frown in wonder, reflecting the same expression Harry had
shown. But for the fourth time he called, the girl finally shown awareness.

“O-oh nothing much, I was simply deep in thought.” The brunette excused with a smile and,
though Harry had wonder if it were the truth really, they continue on with their waiting, it was
nothing new for Hermione Granger is at lost on her thoughts after all. He and Ron was quickly
talking about the upcoming game.

The students in the hall were just as excited for the game between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

The delightful meal had come to an end then and everyone busied themselves, entertaining
themselves with habit or a conversation with friends. Hermione, as expected now, had excused
herself to the library, telling the boys that she wanted to search for a book while she had some
spare time.

Harry didn’t catch all of her sentence as Ronald had, forcefully, grabbed his attention with a
cheer, belting that the Gryffindor was surely to win against (in his words) the ‘softy’ house.
Harry, the kind lass he is, had commented about his bickering, scolded him for acting as a bully
to good people who had done nothing but kindness, though did snicker at the redhead boy’s
jokes here and there about the said house.

At this moment, Hermione had already taken her leave.

It was evening when they saw Hermione again. Harry and Ron had decided to relax a bit in the
Gryffindor’s Common Room and sat in front of the fireplace. How the fire flickered and dyed
the room had done Harry good, despite his worries for the game and the idea of going back to the
Dursley was getting into his nerve. The girl, knowing that they may have been in the room,
called upon them, thankfully the Common Room had been emptied; few had return to their
respectful rooms to rest.

“What is it now, ‘Mione?” Ron had inquired, though looked disinterest to what the know-it-all
has to say. Hermione had ignored Ron’s flat tone –though did throw the boy a glare that seem to
frighten the Weasley –and faced Harry, who was willing to hear what Hermione was willing to
share.

“This,” Hermione passed the book she had carried to Harry, who then glance at the title in
curiosity, “I found this in the Restricted Section in the library.” and upon this report, Harry
glance at the girl in a questioning manner yet had said nothing about it, Ronald did however.
“What were you doing in the Restricted Section?” Ron had inquired, somehow had become
interest upon the news of the girl disobeying a rule.

“I…” the girl started but seem to be hesitated on continuing in a fear of judgment.

“It’s okay, ‘Mione, just... take your time.” said Harry upon noticing the nervous glance the girl
was doing.

“No way,” Ron expressed, “she’s being a bloody dodgy since this morning!” as he always does.

Harry has finally convinced himself that the boy cannot feel empathy at all or that, though not
wanting to offend, Ron is simply just an air-head.

“I felt like it was calling me,” Hermione started to explain, huffing at the Weasley after, “I just…
don’t know, Harry. I found myself passing the wards without trouble and had taken the book
without much thought.” Truth had drips on her lips as Harry look upon the brunette and the book
again.

“Did you...” Harry was about to accuse the girl for stealing it but Hermione caught up quickly.

She dictated “No! Of course not, Madam Pince had allowed me to borrow it!” in dignity, slightly
hurt that the boy would even think of her doing such thing. She had broken several rules already;
she wouldn’t dare do another one. She doesn’t want to be expelled, after all that would be the
end of the world for her.

“It’s looks so old.” Ron commented then, dusting the old book. He read the title out loud then,
“The Hierarchy of Angels; the Truth.” with a curious look.

“What is it about, ‘Mione?” Harry asked, glancing at the Weasley’s shoulder to read the title
himself.

“I haven’t read much,” Hermione admitted as she took a seat in the couch, the boys following,
sitting in each side of her, “but it caught to my attention that it had something to do with the
Muggle’s certain myth. Well, some part of it.”

"What myth?" Harry asked.

She saw the looks the boys’ gave her, though Harry’s eyes still beam in curiosity, and Hermione
almost rolled her eyes at them for it. “It had me acting like anorak! See, it has some type of
connections with Greek Mythology, in what I know anyway, but it's different! Some of the
named Gods and Goddess were mentioned but... it -everything leads to three people, Arthur,
Merlin, and Morgona le fey."

Ron looked confused though just as interest as Harry seems to be as they glance at each other.

When Hermione opened the book, they were more confused.

Hermione, not aware of their confusion, continued on. She flipped the pages, landing on where
the story started. “See here, it was told in 1950 there had been an incident recorded here as to
be…”

1950 Timeline Past– Minerva’s 4th year in Hogwarts

Minerva McGonagall, at the age of 14, had busy herself with practice, wanting to help and win
the upcoming Quidditch game between Gryffindor’s team and the Slytherin’s. She had no
worries for her test and quizzes, being the smartest witch of her age had its perks but of course,
her Professor, Albus Dumbledore, wouldn’t agree with this idea of hers to focus on the game.

Minerva understood the man’s worries and had promised that she will do her best –as always –
and with that, the man was content to let her be. For now, at the afternoon breeze into her hair,
she flew up in the sky with her broom. She was no mood to practice actually and yet her heart
still swoon with anticipation about today.

The air was carrying something as well, it was still light but there was a message that Minerva
can’t yet understand. She had read many things, books piling almost like mountains, yet this she
does not know.

Young and curious, she liked to read into things deeply and investigated much what she can
about certain stuff that interest her spongy-mind that absorb what knowledge she finds. And
while young, Minerva had always loved the idea of flying. It was why she had decidedly joined
the Quidditch team, to fill the hunger she had for flight.

It was a promised that the sky whispered.

And as she dashes, down and up, Minerva enjoyed her relaxing and rushing flight without her
teammate yet on the scene. She was early, always eager to ride her broom. It wouldn’t hurt to
have this luxury, with the expense of the test and teacher’s assignments, she, like any other witch
or wizard, can get tired of it.

She loves to learn; of course that is why Albus had seen potential in her, but the school had yet
provided her need to relax since the rush for N.E.W.T’s exams for the higher grades. At least she
isn’t stressed out like the 5th to 7th graders are. Not that she ever really doubted to what her
grades will be.

Minerva heard a called from down below and she had glance down to see her Professor waving
his hand for her attention down on the Quidditch Pitch. She glides down then, greeting the man
with a bright smile and a beaming “Hello Professor!”
“Good afternoon, Miss McGonagall.” replied Albus, in his hand were candies, “Fancy a Lemon
Drop?” he offered the said candies but the girl only, politely, shook her head no. “It’s your lost
then.” He chuckled, having to take another taste of his favorite treats.

He started the conversation then, asking about her studies and how well they were going. With
pride in her eyes, Minerva had reported that she have done her best and got her grades still the
highest among her fellow Gryffindor. Even Albus reflect that expression as the young girl
continues to chirp.

They had walked around the school ground, a daily bonding they have going on as a tradition
every Friday, and are now headed back to the Quidditch Pitch once again. Albus had insisted to
escort his student, after all he have some time on this hand and where else, and to whom, would
be waste on. On his favorite, yet he would rather not say out loud, student of course!

On their way there, Minerva felt the rush of the wind and had glance up to the sky, which was
starting to darken bits by bits. “The wind, its troubled today.” Albus pointed out the obvious, yet
didn’t halt and just merely continue on his path. Minerva, hearing the sudden change of topic,
snaps out of her trance and rush to walk beside her mentor, just in time for him to add “A bit of
weeping, if I say so myself.”

Minerva frowned at that riddling word. At their arrival, the Quidditch Pitch was empty, only
occupied by mist and sudden coldness of the wind. “S-should we go back to the castle,
Professor?” she shutters, the wind getting stronger now. “I think it’s bound to rain any minute
now.”

“I think not dear.” says the wizard as he glance up, watching the sky and the supernatural activity
of the clouds that was starting to twirl together. “I need to greet an old friend properly.” And
with a wry smile, he looks down on her, dictating “Be ready to fly.” as he points out her broom.
Minerva was, of course, confused of why the man is gesturing her to ride the broom yet, trusting
his advice, readied herself.

Albus had taken out his wand then and casted a Notice-Me-Not Charm on the wide field, just
before a beam of light was strike down from the clouds and into the pitch. Minerva used her
forearm as a shield when a strong dust of wind followed it.

And when it cleared, a wide, white magical barrier was drawn.

Albus, still watching the sky, caught sight of a figure falling down through the thick clouds.
“Minerva,” he called for the Gryffindor, “get her, quick!” And her eyes following what he was
pointing out, her instinct buzzed and had made her act without doubt. She rode her broom in the
fastest way it can and dashed up to meet the fallen one’s gravity yet it only succeeds to pull her
along with her. Albus had cast “Arresto Momentum!” just in time to prevent their harsh fall.
Laid on the ground was Minerva with whomever, safe and unharmed as Albus rushed to them.
The wizard knew well enough who lay with his student and to see her grayish feather scattered
beautifully around her and Minerva, as if to form a secure circle that Albus felt that’s pushing
him away, all was according to her call.

He knew she was bound to return as promised, for the book she made had found its trusty finally.

And to see that the young Minerva McGonagall was starting to be indulged by her magic, it was
attaching itself to her skin like armor; Albus Dumbledore knew that it was the start of war.
“Argh,” yelp the Gryffindor as she sat up, “w-what happened?”

Minerva’s breath hitched. The rush of her flight returns to her and Minerva did nothing but stare
at this creature. She seems to be human, skin as fair as the color of the moon and hair as silvery.
Her clothes were not like the ones witches wore, it was fully leathered, white… so unusual, new
and… angelic.

The word pops in when Minerva saw those wings.

Gray wings, bigger than the girl’s petite body, seem twice as Minerva thinks they must weight. It
have a black lining and in the tips of some feathers were white. It was stunning. The girl on her
back was wearing slitted cloak, long enough to reach the back of her knees probably, and the
gorgeous, charming medium-length hair crafted in French braid rest unbothered.

Yet before she can voice out her awe, a hand had taken a hold of her shoulder. Oath to be wise,
Albus brought her along as he Apparete back to his private quarter in the castle. He levitate the
fair girl to the transfigured bed he made and quickly back away when her wings flattered opens,
only to close around her as if to give protection of the vulnerability she’s in.

Shockingly, Albus didn’t predict that the student within them –the Gryffindor –would be inclined
to put herself beside the angel and gave a silent assurance of “You’re okay. It’s alright, you’re
safe now.” as Minerva had let her hands –with minds on their own –to caress the soft cheeks of
the sleeping creature on the bed.

Those soft coos seem to give the wanted effect as Albus felt the ward –magical pull –around
them shift, allowing him to breath a relief while in her presence. When surely, as Minerva
guessed that their visitor was deeply asleep, Albus beckoned Minerva out of the quarter and into
the conjoined lounge room. He stalked in his office then and return to his seat on the other side
of the table before calling out for Minerva, who was standing dumbfound on the doorway, to
take a sit to one of the loveseats but she seems hesitated.

“Minerva dear, please, I must speak with you this instance.” Albus pleas softly for the girl as her
eyes keep darting back and forth to the sleeping one on the bed and to him. She followed as she
told as the wizard patiently waits for her.
“P-Professor… w-who was that?” she inquired finally, taking the closest seat near the table.

“A dear friend.” reply Albus, though as Minerva waits, he told no more, unsure of how to even
explain this bizarre event.

“Professor, please.” insisted Minerva, clearly not accepting the lack of comment.

A sigh left the wizard’s lips and he started “Minerva, do you still have the book you found
suspiciously on the hall from last month?”

With her eyebrow a bit knitted, Minerva nodded. “Yes, and I’ve read it as you requested.”

He nodded on that. “Now then, I have something important to tell you, Minerva, something that
cannot be shared with anyone else outside this room.” and the tone of his voice shaken the
Gryffindor’s nerves. Minerva had never heard him so serious. “Do you understand?”

“I…” she look down, debating whenever to let herself be included. The Transfiguration teacher
had been so wise, so willing to share his knowledge of the world and the magic one can possess,
he was her guide, mentor, but it’s obvious that the man can be a little… scheming at some times.
Yet as she glance over the bed of where that girl –creature? –lay asleep, something within her
whispers to agree. Her facial expression turns to firm then and she faced Albus with confident.
“Okay.”

There was relief that painted his face to hear that he had succeed one of the tasks that she had
inclined to happen but it turns back to his neutral as he focused on further completing this
conversation with great expectation on his shoulders. “Well, to start,” Albus eyes trailed back to
the sleeping girl on the bed not so far away and Minerva followed his eyes before making eye-
contact again, “she is the Hearth.”

1991 Timeline Present– the Gryffindor’s Common Room

“But Mione,” interrupted Ron then as Hermione continued to read about a story too unrealistic,
and succeeding to gain both of their attention, he inserted “there’s nothing written in there!” and
pointed the blank page.

“What? Yes there is!” the brunette girl frown, “Have you suddenly grown blind?” and she then
pointed at the page, clearly have several paragraphs written in it.

Harry backs up “B-but Ron’s right Hermione.” and the girl look aback to hear him supporting
the ginger. “We can’t really see anything.” And the boy-who-lived then turns the pages to double
check before breathing out “It’s all blank.”
“But –I can read it, Harry!” Hermione insisted then, grabbing the book once again to see it for
herself, “Right here! Everything, I can read it.”

And both boys exchange look then, Ron obviously thinking otherwise, pondering that maybe all
those books finally snap her mentality but Harry believed that the girl was only one able to see
what had been written in this mysterious book. “Maybe… Hermione, maybe you’re the only one
who can –”

But then, the Golden-Trio was interrupted in their little meeting when the Common Room’s door
opened, only to reveal the Head of their house, Minerva McGonagall herself. With a stern look
yet affectionate eyes, Minerva interrogate them, asking “What are you three still doing here? It is
almost passed the curfew.”

Hermione quickly closed the book and the three of them tried to stand beside together to hide it,
and of course, Minerva caught sight of it, though didn’t recognized it yet, and frowned.

“Nothing, Professor, we… err; we were just about to go now!” Harry tried to get them out of the
situation and Hermione and Ron nodded their heads, siding with him.

“We umm… just lost track time, you see.” Ron added to make their defense stronger.

But Minerva fired “Doing what, exactly?” that had them start sweating and both boys’ starts to
squirm, never liking to be scolded by the Transfiguration teacher.

“Believe it or not, Professor, we were reading.” Hermione answered in honesty, though not
directly. She believed that being honest would be their way out of the interrogation.

This caught the Professor’s and thought of the book hidden behind the students. “And, if I may
ask, what kind of book were you reading?” Minerva was starting to think that the three were
about to cause troubles again and prayed that it may not be the matter, hoping to relax this
upcoming summer and not worry for kid’s playing.

“No, Professor,” was Hermione’s shocking answer that had her friend and the said Professor
aback, “you may not.” the know-it-all said confidentially.

And what shock Harry and Ron more was that Minerva chuckled before dismissing them, “And
when you encounter another teacher, simply tells them that I’ve already taken 20 points to
Gryffindor.”

And much to the boys’ dismay, they take their leaves. Ron, being a git he is, whispered-yelled
“Nice going ‘Mione!” as they rush away from the Professor’s radar.

“Wait!” a voice behind them belted and the Golden-Trio groaned and Harry and Hermione
glared at the Weasley but nevertheless, faced their teacher. “I would like to speak with you Miss
Granger, the rest of you can leave.” It wasn’t a request and both Harry and Ronald knew that as
well and had exchanged a glance with their brunette friend before continuing away.

Hermione squirm in the thought of getting into trouble and curses herself for the past moment
she had disrespect her life-model. Had she offended the woman? Merlin, she hopes not. This was
it, she’s getting into trouble or worse, she’s was bound to be expelled for her actions. Alas, she
looked like a scared puppy in front of a giant feline.

“Miss Granger,” Minerva started, and the student’s squirming got worse than it is, “show me.”
was her simple instruction and hesitatingly, Hermione shown what was hidden behind her cloak.
Minerva gasps at the sight of the old book and almost snatches it in the hand of the girl but
refrain acting so. Her mask of sternness did fall. “Where did you find this, Miss Granger?”
Minerva pondered and, with shaking hands, reaches out for the book.

Hermione admitted in shame, “I-in the Restricted Section in the library, P-Professor.” before
hanging her head down then. She couldn’t face the look on the woman’s face; she predicted that
it was written in anger now. But before accepting the fate that could be bestowed upon her,
Hermione decided to defend herself. “I didn’t know what happened, Professor McGonagall, I’m
telling the truth! I felt like it was calling me, somehow, and then, the wards… It didn’t even stop
me!”

Minerva had gasp once again at this report and had started deeply at those brown eyes for the
truth. She hadn’t take Granger to be as such, to be a liar, so the confession was nothing but the
truth. And like her former student in the Slytherin House had come across the book the same
way, this meant that the book is calling out to Granger this time, which can be good but also
something Minerva felt uneasy with.

“Miss Granger.” called Minerva with a shaking breath. “Please meet me and Headmaster
Dumbledore first thing tomorrow in Headmaster’s Tower alone, do you understand?” Hermione
look up to the woman in confusion, she was more afraid now to hear the Scottish accent
thickens, but nevertheless, nodded in agreement. “I will keep the book for now but will promise
to return it. You’re dismissed, Miss Granger, good night.” And with that, Minerva had turned
and return to her round, and she clenches the book in her hand tightly.

So it was true, she was bound to return soon and with this book revealing itself was enough
evidence for this cause.

Minerva couldn’t settle with her own emotions, too confuse to be excited and too worried to be
happy. Her last warning had repeats themselves in Minerva’s mind, despite the range of years
that had gone on without her to remind Minerva of it, like a carpool of vortex; it’s the only thing
she could think of.