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Part 1
Minerva was a special child. Her mother told her so when she could do things none of the other children could. It had been nice to hear a grown up say it, but Minerva had already known it.
She was different from the other children, least of all because of the magic her mother had hidden from her father. The magic that too was in her blood, and let her control the family cat to do her bidding.
She was different, and most of all because of the eerie grey shapeless mark marring the inside of her wrist. It was considered a bad omen, especially with children. A soulmate that did not exist in the world they were living in.
***
It had come to as no surprise to anyone in the McGonagall family when, on Minerva's eleventh birthday, a letter arrived. She was invited to attend Hogwarts as a student once September came.
She was naturally very excited to go, especially after hearing countless tales from her mother about the Great Halls and Gryffindor Tower. Little could she know that it was not Gryffindor Tower that would enamour her.
***
There were few things Minerva really remembered from her Hogwarts days, but one lesson she would never be able to forget.
It had been one slow day during her third year History of Magic class. It had been as boring during her own days at Hogwarts as it had been at the end of the century. But that one day they were going to discuss the Founders of Hogwarts. A tale shrouded in mystery, that even the scant few portraits left of people of that age couldn’t shed light on.
Minerva had seen the portraits of the Founders, which could no longer move and speak, but it did show their likeness. The one thing that had captured her eye, even as a young lass, was the masterfully draped cloth over the wrist of Rowena Ravenclaw, making it one of the biggest mysteries of Wizarding Britain. The question of who her soulmate had been was left unanswered, yet even more intriguing was the fact that her mark was never visible—hinting that she hadn't had one at all.
Minerva had been in love with the idea that someone that amazing had been like her; carrying the grey reminder of someone lost before they could be found.
Binns had droned on and on during his many, many, many lectures before he had finally spoken about the thing Minerva was most curious about. Who was Rowena Ravenclaw?
"We know little about any of the Founders, but the aspect we know the least about is the Soulmate status of Rowena. It is believed by some people that all the Founders were bonded to each other, but this seems to be contradicted by the portraits we do have of the Soulmarks. Rowena was painted several times during her lifetime, by magical and muggle means, and not a single one of them shows even a glimpse of a Soulmark. This has resulted in much speculation. Some doubt she even had one, while others are certain hers was grey during her entire lifetime. To conclude, the only thing we can be certain about is that we will never know for sure. Her living portrait was lost some two centuries ago and without it, we will never discover the secrets held within."
It had been the best –and only– lecture Minerva had given any attention to during Binn’s tenure as a Hogwarts professor.
Minerva had lain wide awake after the conclusion of that lecture, tracing the lines of her grey mark as she fantasised of a future where there was someone just like her, who would be hers to belong with.
***
And dreams were just like that, simply dreams, figments of an overactive mind.
***
Marrying Elphinstone might not have been something Minerva would have done when she had been young. But as the years passed and her mark stayed grey, she found her resolve wavering. There seemed little reason in denying herself the simple pleasure of company for a Soulmate that was gone.
Her continued fascination with Rowena was simply that, a persistent fascination. Though that was easier to pretend when she wasn't married to someone from the Ministry who gave her access to information sources she otherwise could only dream about.
***
The day the portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw was found was not the joyous occasion Minerva had always presumed it would be. The death of Elphinstone hit so much harder now that something they had been searching for was just out of reach. The Ministry, not planning to release a historical source that potent, anytime soon. And if they would it would be very hard for a simple Hogwarts professor to spend any amount of time with her.
Fate was a cruel joke.
***
Being the Head of House was something Minerva was proud of, even if it meant she was lonelier than ever. She tended to be lonely even in the company of people she loved. The constant reminder of something lost was a permanent mar on her wrist. The promotion was one more way for her to stand apart from the crowd; a prison of her own making; well decorated and warm.
***
The war raged on, taking many a good wixen with it. Albus was the loss she most keenly felt, and the promotion to Headmaster did little to fill the void that his passing had left.
The portraits of the Founders hung in her office and gave advice on everything they heard. Though it was seldom useful, it filled the constant silence around her with background noise.
Talking with Rowena became the highlight of her day.
The other woman always seemed to know just what to say. Always willing to play a game of chess and keep Minerva intellectually challenged in a world that had left her behind.
And day after day, her resolve to stay was broken down, 'till in the end she didn't really know anymore why she hadn't left that morning.
Rowena noticed, of course she did, and she disagreed. Told Minerva it wasn't worth it, the past was the past and she could not keep living in a would-be universe.
It didn't stop Minerva from having everything ready for the opportune moment.
Part 2
Rowena was always present, keeping a close eye on Minerva. She knew that the moment Minerva left her line of sight the woman would do something irreversible. She could understand Minerva's reasoning, and knew that if the chance had been presented to her when she had still been alive she would have taken it.
She had never seen Minerva's wrist, just as Minerva had never seen hers. But she could guess why the other woman had been so transfixed on something that Rowena had kept hidden for good reason. Kin recognised each other, and like Minerva dreamed of someone that would fill that void, so did Rowena. If only because what else could she do but dream.
So no, she was not surprised when she arrived back in her portrait only to see Minerva gripping a Time Turner, before the world turned to black.
***
She was walking down the hallways while checking her ever-changing floor plan. Helga said it was a disaster but Rowena knew better. A mind needed to be trained and what better way than to constantly challenge it. The school would open next week and everything needed to be perfect for the arriving students.
Rowena had just passed the door to the Headmaster's office, who would be Headmaster was yet to be decided, and had opened the secret door towards the kitchens when a noise behind her alerted her to someone's presence.
She whirled around, robes flaring , and her wand raised in front of her, ready for whatever dared to sneak up on her.
It was a woman, dressed in peculiar, but undeniably wixen clothing, around her own age. Rowena had never seen her before, and was certain that if she had, she would have remembered a presence like that. For a self-indulgent moment she dared to imagine this must be what it felt like to meet one's Soulmate. Helga had regaled her with endless stories about her own fated meeting and Rowena dared to imagine that at this point she should be able to know how it would feel.
Not that she would ever need the knowledge; her wand hand slowly lowered and rubbed the inside of her wrist to touch the dark spot on the inside that marked her as alone.
"Who are thou?"
The woman seemed relatively harmless, and it wasn't as if Rowena had put extensive amounts of defensive magic in the Castle. It would take one very powerful wixen to be able to harm her inside the walls of Hogwarts.
"Minerva. Minerva McGonagall. Are you Rowena Ravenclaw?"
Rowena instinctively raised her wand once more. Whoever this woman was, this was not a good sign. Rowena might be a reasonably well known person within the magical community, but for a stranger to appear inside her home and know things that she by all accounts and purposes should not be able to know, could not be good.
"That depends, why are thou asking?"
It was a pity that the House-elves had not yet populated the Castle, otherwise she could have called one to help. Or at the very least notified Helga, Salazar and Godric about this intruder.
The woman raised her hands to show she was unarmed, her sleeves falling down to her elbows and revealing the purple marking of an hourglass on her inner wrist.
"I mean no harm, I—"
The woman's eyes fell on her own arms and the words stilled on her tongue. Her eyes transfixed on her own Soulmark as if it was the first time she had seen it.
"What?"
It was weird, the way the woman behaved, but Rowena had a more pressing problem to focus on than the way the woman had reacted to seeing her own Soulmark.
"I used an unorthodox method of travelling and seem to have ended up in the wrong place. If you would be so kind as to show me the way outside, I will no longer bother you."
It was a weak excuse if Rowena had ever heard one, but did not comment. She waved the woman forward and kept the instructions to a minimum, while making sure she never showed the other woman her back. Rowena might trust that the other didn't have any bad intentions, but it was never a good idea to show a stranger who appeared out of nowhere too much trust.
When they had arrived by the gates and the other woman left towards Hogsmeade, Rowena stared for a long time at her retreating back.
It was only later that evening when Rowena undressed and her eyes naturally fell towards her hands that she noticed the arrival of the stranger in Hogwarts was not the only thing that had changed that day.