PROLOGUE

16 June 1952

"...earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust..."

The warm wind whipped wildly around one Albus Dumbledore as he bowed his head in respect, glancing up slightly at the priest who made the sign of the cross over the open grave before him. Dozens of people dressed in their finest black mourning robes encircled the freshly dug grave; some cried softly, some only appeared to have unshed tears of lingering sorrow bedim their doleful eyes and yet there were those who looked lost in thoughtful concentration. Still, there was one person whose appearance fit none of these criteria. Her lips almost disappeared into the thin line that was firmly in place just above her raised chin, her face was pale and her eyes were dark and barely blinking. All in all, the expression on her face was void of any emotion and wholly unreadable, which worried Albus. An accomplished Legilimens, he couldn't even gather an inkling as to what was going through the mind of the woman standing across from him on the opposite side of the grave, next to the priest. The playful wind lightly tousled her robes, separating both sides of the black garment to reveal a burgeoning belly from which life would spring forth in just a few months time. The normally modest woman acquiesced to the exhibition of the gift she carried inside her, choosing to stand perfectly still and solemn over the grave of her recently departed husband.

"...The Lord bless him and keep him. The Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious to him. The Lord lift up his countenance upon him and give him peace..."

Briefly, Albus shifted his gaze from the widow to the rather large marble gravestone whereupon it was written:

Carlo Prospero Giannini
1923-1952
Beloved Son and Brother

No mention was made of the wife he left behind, or of the child he'd yet to see born. Albus felt a stab of pity for the young woman who he still looked upon as the student he'd taught a mere decade earlier. Once so young and vibrant with a promising career, only to be widowed and thrust into the position of a single mother. He took note that the lady stood alone next to the priest with no means of emotional or physical support to get her through this trying time. He observed her in-laws crowded together at the priest's other side, forming a familial support group that excluded the one member of the family who could've benefitted the most from it: the grieving widow. However, Albus knew that the woman's character was a testament to her strength and he also knew that she would pull through this hardship and every other obstacle in the future relatively unscathed because she was a person of sense, rationale and logic, which he saw as a weakness and a detriment.

"... With longing for the coming of God's kingdom, let us together pray as Jesus taught us..."

As the mourners were led in prayer, Albus let his focus once again fall on the woman across from him, the one who failed to recite the words and neglected to cross herself at its ending, unlike the others in the crowd. Instead, she chose to continue to stand unflinchingly silent. Albus didn't know if she was taking in the sounds of the burial ceremony or if she was lost in nostalgic thoughts that events like these were sure to conjure. He was unaware of the nature of the relationship she'd enjoyed with her husband, but the fact that she was bearing his child spoke volumes. Though, to tell the truth, he was concerned at the way the family had markedly removed themselves from their loved one's widow.

"...May your almighty God bless you in the name of the Father and of the Son and then of the Holy Spirit..."

Several "amens" were whispered solemnly and when the mourners began to disperse, Albus walked to the widow's side. He wasn't sure if she knew he was there, but he reached out and placed his hand softly on her small shoulder.

"Mrs. Giannini, I wanted to tell you once again how sorry I am for your loss. I remember your husband as a fine student and a humble, decent young man."

For the first time since they had all gathered at the cemetery for the burial, the widow broke her trance-like stare to respond almost monotonously, "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. Your words are very kind and comforting. They are much appreciated."

Ignoring the coldness and distance in her voice, Albus proffered his arm and after a moment's hesitation, the lady hooked her arm with his. For several minutes, the pair quietly walked along in repose, contemplating the events of the day. The sky above them was cloudy and the birds' songs that rang from nearby trees were as dolorous as the mood that had befallen the group of people that had gathered to bury their beloved relative.

As they reached the church, Albus reluctantly untangled his arm from Mrs. Giannini's, but held her hands steadfastly in his own, blanketing them with the warmth they were severely lacking. Even in the warm June weather, her skin felt ice cold and chafed. Looking directly into her tired eyes, he saw nothing except the evidence of her exhaustion in the dark circles that formed immediately below them. A bit of the frigidity that had altogether engulfed her the past couple of days thawed in that moment as she unclenched her hands to allow Albus to reach her emotionally.

"My dear, I'm afraid that I have to go. I'm terribly sorry to be so abrupt, but final exams are this week and I have several students waiting for some private tutoring. I do so hate to rush away. If you need me to stay, I can make provisions for the students. It won't be a problem. I'm sure Armando..."

The young lady swiftly cut in, "No, Professor Dumbledore, don't change your schedule just on my account. I'll be fine. There are many things for me to do, a lot of loose ends to tie up and 'Thank You' cards to write. I'll be extremely busy. Thank you anyway–OW!" Suddenly, the widow grabbed her stomach, wincing in pain.

"My dear, what's wrong?? Does it have to do with the baby??" Albus asked worriedly. However, the mother-to-be laughed weakly.

"The wee one kicked me, that's all. Every now and then I'll be the recipient of a somewhat powerful blow that will knock the breath out of me for a couple of seconds." Upon seeing the skepticism in his expression, she added quickly, "I assure you, Professor, everything is fine. The wee one is just reminding me that no matter what happens, life goes on... that, and he's probably letting me know that he's hungry." Winking at her former professor, she raised herself once again upright, resting one hand on the swell of her belly. "I do want to thank you for everything that you've done for me–for the family–since Carlo died. It's meant a lot to know that we have a caring friend like you." She gave Albus a faint but sincere smile.

"As one of my most adept and capable students, I can't help but feel a certain fondness toward you. If you need anything, and I mean anything, my dear, don't hesitate to owl me. I don't care if it's day or night or in the middle of an exam, I'll promptly respond."

"I'll be fine. Please don't worry yourself over me."

Albus peered over his half-moon glasses. "Ahhh, alas that is something that I can't promise you. I will worry over you as long as I live."

The impact of his words hit Mrs. Giannini and their conversation was steered into an awkward lull. Looking down at her shoes and clasping her hands behind her back, she spoke softly to the ground, "And I will always worry over you."

Fearing that the events of the last few days would lead to revelations that would otherwise never have left the secret confines of their hearts, Albus cleared his throat and said gently, "I must be going. Remember if you need anything–"

"–Owl you. Yes, yes, I know," she answered with a grin. She moved toward him and he opened his arms as wide as they would go and welcomed her thin body against his, enveloping it with his familiarity. He never wanted to let her go. In fact, he wouldn't have released her at all if the growing babe in her belly hadn't chose that moment to deliver another hard kick to his mother, a kick that Albus felt against his own belly.

"The wee one must be quite a hungry little fellow. You better feed him before he causes you any more pain," he chuckled.

"Yes," she replied almost absentmindedly. "Take care of yourself, Albus."

"And yourself, as well as the baby."

Before Apparating away, he took one last look at the pregnant widow who was now all alone in the world and wished the baby she was carrying was his. He was whisked away only seconds before ten years worth of tears were unleashed by his most devoted former student.

01 November 1956

"Mrs. Giannini, I can't tell you what a pleasure it was to learn that you had applied for the Charms professorship!" boomed Armando Dippet jovially, as he scanned the application before him.

"Thank you, Headmaster."

"It's certainly a great disappointment to lose Professor Wainwright. She is one of the best, but I'm all too eager to welcome you back in the fold, this time as an esteemed professor. All your former professors speak highly of you, especially my Deputy Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. And of course, it doesn't hurt that I counted you among my most distinguished students during your time here at Hogwarts. Tell me, Mrs. Giannini–"

"Actually," interrupted the applicant, "and I'm so sorry to interrupt, but since my husband died, I've reverted to using my maiden name."

"Oh, indeed!" guffawed the headmaster heartily. "And no need to apologize! Well, then, Ms. McGonagall, I've summoned you here for this interview to tell you that after my colleagues and I reviewed all the applications, yours stood out the most. With all the stellar recommendations and your extensive post-graduate work that included some research and field work in Charms, there was simply no other candidates that were as fully qualified. I'm pleased to offer you the position of Charms professor."

"And I am all too pleased to accept. I do so appreciate this opportunity."

"Now, then, usually when there's an incoming professor to take another professor's place, I like for the incumbent to sit in on a few classes and meet the students, especially if the incumbent will be taking over classes in the middle of term, such as yourself. I'd like for you to get a feel as to where the students are in regards to the material they're learning. I'd also like for you to get comfortable being in an academic atmosphere. I know you were a student here for seven years, but you are now being placed in a position of authority, you must exercise it cautiously, carefully and equally among the diverse group of students here. Knowing you, if won't be an enormous effort, but I'd like for you to start staying at the castle as soon as possible. Unfortunately, Professor Wainwright's chambers won't be vacant until she leaves in December and there aren't any other suitable rooms for your use just now. If it would be possible for you to stay in Hogsmeade perhaps and commute here during the week..."

"If I may speak, Armando?" came a benign, gentle voice to the Headmaster's right.

The headmaster arched his eye inquisitively, "Of course, Albus."

"There's no need for Ms. McGonagall to have to trudge back and forth from Hogsmeade everyday. After all, she has a small child in her care. In the meantime, I'm offering my chambers as a temporary solution to the accommodations problem."

"That's very generous of you, Professor Dumbledore," Ms. McGonagall, obviously touched at his suggestion, responded before Armando Dippet could get a word in edgewise, "But I won't hear of displacing you. I'll find suitable lodging in the village. Besides, it will only be for a month."

"But my dear, it's cold outside. The weather these past couple of weeks have been dreadful, what with the rain and snow and all..."

"We will be quite all right," Minerva said firmly, in a final sort of way.

"Well, well, then it's all settled. Ms. McGonagall, I'm ecstatic to welcome you among our respectable ranks. You will start your preliminary duties next Monday." Armando left the spot behind his desk to come around and shake his new Charms professor's hand. "Should you need anything, please just ask myself or Albus, or any of the other members of the staff."

"Thank you, Headmaster, I will keep that in mind. I'm definitely looking forward to working here." Getting up to leave the headmaster's office, Albus opened the door for Hogwarts's newest staff member and led her into the foyer where a small elf-like girl was waiting anxiously for her mother. Upon hearing the door open, she jumped up and ran to her mother as she walked through it.

"Mummy, mummy, did you get the job?!" She jumped up and down animatedly.

"Yes, darling, I got the job!" She picked her daughter up and hugged her tightly.

Albus observed the both of them and then realized that he'd never before met the little girl that was squealing with delight in her mother's arms. At least, not outside of the womb.

"Minerva, I don't think I've had the pleasure of being formally introduced to this remarkable young lady."

Placing her daughter back on the floor, she smiled at Albus and started to introduce the child, however the little girl piped up in excitement and instant recognition, "I know who you are!"

Before Albus could offer his hand, Eleanor stuck her small one out, waiting for the older man to take it. When he did, she shook it firmly and greeted him very matter-of-factly. "My name is Eleanor and I'm four. And your name is Albus Dumbledore. My mummy has told me all about you!"

Raising his eyebrows in amusement, he peered over at Minerva who was blushing a shade of the brightest scarlet.

Inwardly chuckling, he inquired further mainly to make Minerva a bit more nervous, rather than to satisfy any true curiosity of his own. "Really? And, er, just what has your mother told you about me?"

At that point, Minerva hastily interrupted her daughter to say emphatically, "Oh nothing, really. I was just telling her that you're a professor here and that you teach Transfiguration."

But the four year-old could not be quelled. Delighted to finally meet the object of the many wild bedtime stories told by her mother, she pushed on. "And she said that you were the absolute greatest wizard in the world!! Every night at bedtime she tells me a story and sometimes they're about you..."

"Eleanor...," Minerva attempted to break in subtly, but Albus's attention was held captive by the enchanting little sprite before him, and Eleanor was too engrossed in the stories of her mother's adventures to hear the benign scolding.

"She told me about the time you defeated the bad wizard Gri–, erm, Grinda–, Grinder–, oh whatever! And then she told me about the time you and she battled five bad wizards all by yourselves during the war!"

"Eleanor, really, that's enough..." The scarlet flush on Minerva's face was getting more pronounced by the second. The Transfiguration professor was loathe to admit that he was highly amused to see his former pupil squirm in her discomfort. It was becoming more obvious to him that even while married and living on the continent hundreds of kilometers away from Hogwarts, Minerva had never truly forgotten her professor or their times together. A glimmer of hope blossomed in his heart at the unintended revelations.

"And she told me that you were the one that helped her to become an animagus! I want to be an animagus, too, one day! Mummy said that I'll have to work very hard at it. Are you an animagus, too, Professor? Did you have to give Mummy private lessons?"

"Eleanor, that's enough! You'll talk Professor Dumbledore ragged, my darling!" A flustered Minerva laughed somewhat edgily and moved to stand behind her daughter, resting her hands on either side of Eleanor's shoulders.

Albus noticed the uneasiness in his new colleague's voice and turned his twinkling eyes full of mirth toward her and asked cheekily, "Really, Minerva, the greatest wizard in the world?"

Averting her eyes to the side to avoid his delighted stare, she retorted, "Shut it, Albus, before I take it back."

Turning his attention back to the wild-eyed child in front of him, he responded to her queries. "To answer your question, my dear, yes, I am an animagus. It is a lot of hard work, but with patience and perseverance, anyone can succeed in becoming one. Your mother was especially gifted with perseverance, but I'm afraid patience sorely eluded her."

The meaning of 'eluded' escaped the four year-old and so she'd tried to ask one of the two grown-ups in the room what it meant, however her inquisition was forgotten in the midst of the adults' exchange.

Rising to the bait Albus had purposely thrown her, Minerva interjected, "Excuse me, but who ran off and left me just before he was to battle Grindelwald because I was a mere two minutes late?"

"Did you really have to throw a rock at my head because I'd gone on without you?"

Huffing, Minerva cried indignantly, her Scottish brogue thickly coating the words that flew from her mouth, "For the hundredth time, I did not throw a rock at your head... Purposely, that is. It was a malfunction of my wand due to the extreme agitation resulting from having my life flash before my eyes!"

"That was a trying time, wasn't it?" remembered Albus as he stroked his beard whilst in deep thought.

"It was indeed," she finished with a genuine smile.

"Will you tell me about it sometime, Mummy??" Eleanor begged.

Chortling, Minerva replied, "I've told you that story a thousand times!"

"But you didn't tell me about throwing a rock at Professor Dumbledore's head!"

Bending down to lay a kiss on her daughter's mane of chocolate brown hair, "That's because it didn't happen. Not like that, at least."

Just then, Armando appeared from his office to call Minerva back in to sign some documents pertaining to her employment, apologizing for his forgetfulness. Albus volunteered to watch Eleanor, making Minerva rather nervous, but he reassured her that he would wait until she returned to speak of other embarrassing moments that he was lucky to have witnessed. Flashing him an irritated look, she disappeared into Armando Dippet's office and shut the door behind her.

Albus was utterly fascinated by Minerva's small child. As she talked, he noticed that she reflected many of the mannerisms of her mother, such as the way she raised her eyebrows when making an important point or tilting her head to the side when she didn't understand something, but most of all, she inherited her mother's precociousness. Eleanor was very much her mother's child, but with traces of her departed father, as well. Her hair and eyes were of the darkest brown color that Carlo Giannini's has been and she shared with him the same olive-colored skin. The shape of her eyes, however, and that of her nose and her mouth were purely her mother's.

"What kind of sweets do you like, Professor?"

"First of all, I invite you to call me by my first name. 'Albus' will do marvelously. Secondly, I must admit a certain partiality to sherbet lemons, but once in a while I dabble in other things like Chocoballs and Licorice Wands."

Eleanor's face lit up. "I love sherbet lemons! Mummy gets some for me every time we go to Diagon Alley!"

"I must say that you have impeccable taste! Let's share a scrumptious treat as we await your mother's return. We'll have to talk your mother into going into Hogsmeade and stopping at Honeydukes sometime in the near future. I know the shopkeeper who will be only too happy to fill your pockets to their brims with sweets." From the inner pocket of his bright purple robes, he presented his little charge with a sweet and to her joy, she rapidly popped it into her mouth. He proceeded to suck on one, as well.

"Mummy doesn't like sweets much," Eleanor remarked.

"I would say not. She never liked them very much; however, she did have quite a mild fondness for Honeydukes toffee at one time," Albus responded thoughtfully.

"Really?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. "I don't think I've ever seen her eat any sweets at all."

Sporting a downcast look on his face, he said somberly, "She stopped eating them after the war was over."

"Why?"

Quite the inquisitive lass, Albus said to himself. He was positively sure that Minerva wouldn't appreciate that particular story being told, especially to her four year-old daughter. Besides, he was certain that a child her age hadn't the ability understand it. After all, her own mother had been incapable of comprehending the complicated reasoning behind his actions at the time.

"Ahhh, I'm sorry, my dear, but that's a story for another time and place."

Taking the hint that it was a story for grown-ups only, she politely dodged the subject and innocently continued to interrogate the professor along another line of thinking. "What was my mummy like back then?"

The easy, simple question confounded the so-called greatest wizard alive. How could he tell this child that her mother was one of the most brilliant, stubborn, hardworking, admirable, studious, bewitching, charming, exasperating, beautiful women he'd ever had the pleasuring of meeting?? Brevity was not something one could use to describe all the qualities of Minerva McGonagall. She was an infinite conundrum that never ceased to amaze Albus. Her acid wit in the face of aversion, her ingenuity in a time of crisis, her solace in a time of pain... How could he translate feelings as deep-seated as the ones he felt for Minerva into something a small child could understand??

"Your mother was..." Albus searched his heart for the right words, but he was dumbfounded. The right words evaded his tongue and he was left staring helplessly into the expectant face of the young girl. Trying again, he persisted, "Well, she was..."

Albus was saved at that moment as Minerva emerged for a second time from the Headmaster's office.

"All done!" she announced cheerfully. Upon seeing her daughter and the Deputy Headmaster donning serious expressions, she inquired in puzzlement, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Albus answered placidly. "Eleanor and I were just taking a trip down Memory Lane."

"Oh? And just what were you two discussing exactly?"

Tranquilly, he smiled. "Not a word was uttered that would betray the memories kept only between us."

"What does that mean, Albus?" Eleanor inquired with childish interest.

"Eleanor! Please mind your manners! It's rude to call your elders by their first names!" Minerva was shocked at the lack of respect shown by her daughter, and attempted to apologize to the Transfigurations professor and Deputy Headmaster when he held up a hand to stop her.

"I told her that she could call me Albus since there will come a time still several years away when she will have to refer to me as 'Professor Dumbledore'.

"Now, ladies, I do believe a celebration is in order. Minerva, I've talked it over with Eleanor and we've decided to invite you to come with us to Hogsmeade and partake in the finest that Honeydukes has to offer." Linking his arm with his fellow professor and taking the hand of her all too eager daughter, he led them toward the door.

"Albus, if we're celebrating, don't you think I should get to pick the place we go?"

"If you were the object of the celebration, I would be inclined to answer in the affirmative, but I thought we'd celebrate this lovely young lady that you've managed to raise so wonderfully."

"Well, in that case," Minerva grinned at both of them, "I will wholeheartedly agree to an afternoon outing to Hogsmeade's most notorious shop, dedicated to rotting students' teeth since I was a student here."

"Come on, let's hurry up!" Eleanor exclaimed impatiently, tugging on Albus's hand. "I'm out of jelly slugs and I want more ice mice!"

"Minerva, she is most definitely your daughter. You clearly seem to have passed on your penchant for impatience."

Laughing, she teased, "I find that quite comical, Albus. Considering her love of sweets, I would be more willing to think she was your daughter!"

Minerva didn't know at that precise moment how much that seemingly harmless statement gravely bruised Albus's sensibilities, for there was a time that he'd wished with all his heart that Minerva's baby had been fathered by him. He was absolutely mesmerized by the little person Minerva had brought forth into the world and he anticipated teaching her all about her mother's favorite subject when she embarked on her academic career at Hogwarts. He couldn't express how overjoyed he was when the Headmaster informed him that Minerva McGonagall had applied for a teaching position at her alma mater. It didn't matter to him whether they picked up where they left off or not, just seeing her every day and being near her after spending the last ten years with an incredible amount of distance between them was enough to sate his longing heart.

"Mummy, when we get to Honeydukes, are you going to buy some toffee?"

Bristling at the mention of toffee, she flashed Albus a look that said, "What did you tell her?"

Though she communicated using only her facial expressions, Albus knew exactly what she was trying to convey, and thus he responded serenely, "I only told the child that there was a time ages ago that you enjoyed the taste of certain sweets."

"So, are you, Mummy?"

Not breaking eye contact with the older gentleman on her arm, Minerva answered her daughter, who didn't catch the mist that clouded her mother's eyes as she responded, "Yes, but only if Professor Dumbledore shares a piece with me."