A/N: This story is a sequel to "What Albus really saw in the Mirror of Erised." You don't have to read that story first, though it might be helpful. Returning readers, you are in for a treat! Enjoy.

Oh yes, and let's not forget the Disclaimer: I don't own an ounce of Harry Potter. None, I repeat.

Michael woke up the next morning in a slight daze. Sunlight was streaming copiously into his bedroom, and for an instant, he did not recognize where he was. Then, turning his head into his pillow, he breathed in a familiar lemony scent. Smiling sleepily, he turned his face to the door that was slightly ajar. Albus was watching him with a kind, loving smile, and his eyes twinkled merrily.

"Good morning, Mikes. Sleep well?"

Michael beamed. It was so different living with his Mum and Dad instead of with the Dursleys. Michael no longer woke to the sensation of spiders crawling on his arms, or the elephantine rumbles of his enormous "cousin" Dudley, or the tickling unpleasantness of sawdust from the cupboard under the stairs. Albus crossed over and sat at the edge of the bed. Rumpling Michael's untidy black hair, he offered a lemon drop to Michael.

"Hi Dad. I was just having the best dream ever. You were with me, and Mum was there too. We were alone…in a field of daisies."

"Well perhaps some sherbet lemons might bring the dream back," Albus replied, winking impishly. "Just don't tell your mother…"

"Tell me what, Albus?" Minerva had walked in, her eyes flashing dangerously. "If you offer Michael another lemon drop, I shall have to…"

"No, no, sweetheart, I wasn't!" Albus pleaded, hastily stuffing the sweet back into his pocket, mentally making a note to give it to Michael later.

"Have to what, Mum?" Michael asked curiously.

Minerva chuckled and sat on Michael's other side. Reaching over and prodding his nose gently with the tip of her finger, she gave him a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Relax, Mikes, I was just teasing. Although Merlin knows your father has done this enough times to make me…sorely tempted."

Michael grinned. Fumbling for his glasses, he found them devoid of the usual Spellotape and looking brand new. Michael felt his throat grow slightly constricted, funny that he should grow emotional over this small thing, and he looked over to his parents.

"Thank you," Michael whispered quietly, holding out his slender hand to both of them. Albus gripped it and Minerva covered Albus' hand with her cool one. The sunlight streamed in; it was a beautiful day.

Until…

A burning, acrid scent reached their nostrils. Minerva whirled around and ran downstairs to the kitchen. She didn't have anything cooking yet, so what could that horrible smell be? She skidded to a halt and instantly narrowed her eyes.

Apparently, Albus had gone out of his way to make breakfast for the three of them. However, he was hopeless with kitchen magic and the bacon and eggs that he had fried on the stove now resembled a lumpy mass of charcoal. Pausing only to select a few of her choicest Scottish swear-words, Minerva seized the pan and magically scraped the mess off.

Albus had meanwhile sheepishly slunk into the kitchen behind Michael. He knew he was in trouble. Minerva whipped her head up so fast to look at Albus that her neck audibly cricked. Clenching her jaw, she ordered Michael to leave herself and Albus alone. Michael, wisely, noticed the McGonagall death glare and backed away quickly. But not quickly enough.

"ALBUS PERCIVAL WULFRIC BRIAN DUMBLEDORE! Do you ken what you've done? I dinna suppose you thought to consult with me on how ta scramble eggs! Look at this mess!"

"Minerva, please, please, I can explain…"

"Oh, you can, can you, ye old coot?"

Michael winced at the raging argument, dominated by his mum, and, knowing he was going to run right into fire, he stepped back into the kitchen.

"…ye barmy old codger, I…I'll…" Minerva had reached such a state that she was rendered incapable of speaking coherently. Her voice was thick with Scottish brogue. Her face was flushed and her eyes snapped ferociously.

"Please stop, Mum and Dad. It hurts me when you two argue. Look, I can fix this; we can all eat. Please sit down." Michael approached hesitantly and touched Minerva's sleeve. She looked down at him in surprise and gave a single nod. Behind her back, Albus breathed a sigh of relief and mouthed "Thank you" to his son.

Albus and Minerva both took a deep breath. Both looked rather sheepish now. Minerva lowered her pointing wand and smoothed her wild black locks back into her ponytail. Albus lowered the broom that he had taken as a shield. They watched as Michael expertly flipped the bacon and scrambled the eggs. Soon, the enticing aroma reached their senses and Albus sniffed appreciatively. Carefully pouring the coffee, Michael carried two cups to his parents. Setting one down cautiously in front of his mother, Michael started when Minerva placed a gentle hand over his.

"This looks delicious, love. I didn't know you could…"

"Cook? Yeah, I did the cooking every day at the Dursleys. They never acknowledged it, but I did overhear Dudley saying that I cooked better than his mum. I suppose I got my cooking gene from you, Mum." Michael smiled wryly and took a bite himself.

"It's a good thing you didn't inherit my temper, Mikes. That's what people say is my worst trait," Minerva said ruefully, raising her coffee to her lips.

Albus smiled across to Minerva and lightly brushed his fingers across her knuckles.

"But that's precisely why I fell in love with you, Minerva love. You're the only person who can get Aberforth to calm down and act halfway civilized."

"No, not even halfway. Aberforth's just plain crazy."

"But what about me, dear? I thought there was many a time when you called me…ah, what was it? A barmy old codger."

"You're different, Al."

"I'm glad you think so. You wouldn't have me any other way, would you?"

"No."

The three of them finished their breakfasts in silence afterwards. Minerva noticed that Michael never ate much; he mostly watched them while he picked at the eggs on his plate. She furrowed her brow in worry, but decided that Michael could eat more later.

After they finished, or rather, Albus and Minerva finished, Michael stood up to take their plates. Minerva stopped him with a gentle touch on his wrist.

"I can do it, sweet." Minerva collected the dishes and waved her wand to clean them. Using a "Scourgify" spell, she had the dishes clinking merrily as she wiped down the table. As she brushed back a few strands of her trailing black hair, Minerva straightened up and arched her back briefly. Albus watched her with love; she bore a remarkable resemblance to her animagus tabby cat. Winking at Michael, Albus purposefully shifted his long legs so that they were slightly in Minerva's path. Frowning, Minerva swished past him and slapped the cold washing towel against his legs, causing him to retract immediately. Minerva smirked; Michael choked back a laugh.

Albus leaned closer to Michael. Using a stage whisper, he said:

"Women at their time of month, son, are even more unpredictably vicious that a Venomous Tentacula."

"Do not start on that, Albus, if you wish to keep yourself intact and out of harm!"

"Yes, ma'am."

A/N: What do you think? Please press that inviting "Review" button and make someone (me) very happy! Stay tuned for the next chapter!