Disclaimer: I don't own Minerva or Albus but I do own Minerva's daughter (though she isn't real) and Alan's son (though he's as imaginary as Minerva's daughter). I don't own anything really.
A/N: I started this quite a while ago, but only just got around to typing up, as usual. I like the idea, it's something I've always wanted to try, but I'm not sure about how it turned out. Please, let me know how it seems to you and hopefully I can improve it with your help! R&R please!
Summary: Can an impossible love come true with the help of a child's love?
Through a Child's Love
Chapter One: The Invitation"Diana! Could you come in here for a minute please?" Minerva McGonagall called to her daughter from her study in their magnificent Scottish manor tucked away in one of the many deserted corners of the Highlands. Diana, who had been reading up on something for her course in London, from which she was on holiday, snapped her book shut and hurried to the study, her face apprehensive. Minerva put down her quill majestically in front of her daughter as she slipped the door shut behind her and stood.
"Diana, I've been thinking and I don't want this silly argument to come between us." Diana privately thought Minerva was the only one calling it silly, but she let it go. "I am willing to accept you have a man in your life, and I would like to meet him. Do you think he would consent to spending a few days here with us this summer?" Minerva asked straightforwardly, folding her hands and standing very straight. To say Diana looked surprised was an understatement. She was shocked, happily so, and she grinned like a normal, sweet-toothed child who has just received a huge dollop of ice cream. Minerva smiled as well, her mind already clicking and whirring, contemplating the many possibilities this would open to her. Unaware of her mother's scheming, Diana gave her mother a hug to thank her and flitted out of the study, smiling and jigging with gladness.
Minerva, who gently patted her daughter's back during the hug if only to show she did want her there, smiled as well to herself, though it had none of her daughter's innocence. It was true, she did want her daughter to be happy but she had yet to meet a man who, in Minerva's opinion, could make her so. When Diana had told her of this new attraction, she had been so full of the wonderful charm and wit he possessed. Minerva had to withhold a snort even now.
Any boy would have to be her late husband's child to come close to how Diana described him. As ever not content with the information Diana had given her, Minerva had found out his name and had gone looking for any trace of him she could find. She had tried the Hogwarts files, had owled a friend at Beauxbatons to see if he had any relations (she had dismissed the idea of him being from Durmstrang very quickly, knowing her daughter had more sense than that) but not one record of 'Mark Macintyre' could she find.
She had become suspicious at this point and had told her daughter of her findings, or lack there of. It was only then Diana chose to tell her Mark had been home-schooled which, of course, made Minerva even more wary. Her low opinion was sealed when Diana refused to tell her what Mark's profession was. That surely meant she would not approve, whatever he did. Perhaps with him here, Minerva would be able to persuade her daughter to see her folly or at least she could satisfy her own curiosity, and show him her point of view.
Diana hurriedly scribbled a letter to Mark, asking if he would like to come, a smile gracing her face as she imagined his surprise. She had warned him of her mother's difficulties when it came to dealing with men, especially Diana's men. Her mother was not one to give up so easily, and the younger woman was conscious that this seeming olive branch could be filled with thorns but she was willing to take that risk if just to get her mother to talk to Mark. Even at the risk of sounding naive, she was still confident that this time, Mark was everything she hoped he'd be.
Having finished the letter, she rolled it up and attached it easily to her owl, Herman, who was hooting quietly in the window, on his stand. He nibbled her finger affectionately before opening his wings and flying out the window Diana had just opened. She watched as the grey of her owl blended with the cornflower blue of the sky. The breeze, which blew in from the gardens outside her window, was lightly scented with lemon and orange, from the grove of trees her mother cared for. It would be a lovely summer, she knew, the weather was picking up and the world was smiling. She hoped Mark and her would be able to get away long enough to have a quiet afternoon in the grounds, maybe have a picnic…
Her mother had been right many times about the men Diana got involved with. She did seem to have horrible luck when it came to picking partners, but she was sure this time Mark was a good, loving, charming man. Yes, she might have been wrong before but this time it just felt right! She was absolutely positive Mark was the right person for her to be with. Breathing deeply through her nose, she pulled the window closed a bit more and put her quill away. Her last thought was determined and defiant on the subject. Her mother was just going to have to get used to it.
A few days later, Diana received the reply she had been waiting for and, though she was delighted he was willing to come even after the warnings she had already given, she did not think her mother would like the condition he had added to their deal. Rising from her chair in the library once more, she laid down her book and took the letter with her to see Minerva, hoping it would give her some sort of support while facing the one woman who could embody everything motherly and yet terrifying at the same time. Perhaps the two things were more closely linked than many people believed.
She knocked on the door to the study, where she was sure she would find her mother, and the door swung open. Minerva McGonagall was sat at her desk, reading a letter that Diana assumed must have arrived after breakfast. This, coupled with the small, amused smile on Minerva's lips led Diana to the conclusion the parchment had come from Professor Dumbledore. Her mother often complained affectionately of Albus' letters coming after everyone else's because he was such a late riser but her daughter knew she wasn't really annoyed with the Headmaster. In fact, quite the opposite. The smile wasn't an occurrence that happened often, only when one of his letters came through the window. More than once, Diana had overheard her mother laughing or even giggling over the contents of his letters.
Diana smiled at that thought as her mother looked up, laughter in her eyes, reminding her daughter quite strongly of a time when she had been much younger, but the moment passed when the older woman's eyes sank to the letter in her daughter's hand. Setting her own letter down to finish laughing over later, she beckoned her daughter further inside and waved the door shut behind her as she sat down, the light fading away to a shadow in her eyes. Minerva smiled at her child, and nodded, already knowing from the smile Diana wore what the answer was.
"So?" Minerva asked, interlocking her fingers in reminisce of her colleague and resting them on the letter she had been reading. It would be something to amuse, a bright spot on what from now on would be a grey holiday, she was sure. At last, Diana allowed the glad grin she had been restraining in vain to light her face and she nodded as well, take a leap with a grasp at the neck of her Gryffindor courage that her mother was constantly reminding her of.
"He can come! But-" She began hurriedly, looking away from her mother and grasping Mark's letter a bit more firmly in the hopes some spark of inspiration would come to her and help her explain this in some way that would not arouse her mother's close-to-the-surface temper or make her any more set against Mark than she already was.
"But?" Minerva interrupted in a sharp but quiet voice, raising an eyebrow delicately with some triumph already in her eyes. Diana breathed heavily through her nose, swallowing her apprehension and irritation as she continued with an elevated voice that showed Minerva quite clearly how nervous she was,
"But his father must be allowed to come as well." Diana finished, biting her lip a little as she awaited her mother's reaction. That little habit was one she had picked up from her father and it both made Minerva happy, and gave her pain. It was wonderful that Diana had picked up small things like that and had retained them despite the lapse of years since her father's death, but at the same time, it was awful that she should have to be reminded of something she tried so hard to forget every time she looked at her own daughter! It seemed cruel.
She was digressing. Should she allow two strangers, neither of which she had seen in her life into her house? It would only be for a few days if she had anything to do with it, and it was for Diana's sake after all. 'Just for a few days.' She consoled herself, twisting her hands together before looking up at her daughter and pulling on a gracious smile over the blank expression that had been there. A blank expression was her favourite when she was thinking, especially when it concerned emotions. It never gave anything away, for it to be used or exploited as a weakness and that was something she would never tolerate.
"Tell Mark I shall be pleased to see him here for the start of the second week in the summer holidays, and I shall be pleased to welcome his father as well." Her tone was firm, as much for her own persuasion as Diana's, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Diana's face lit up as she finished and she came around the desk to fling herself into her mother's arms happily, hugging her tightly while Minerva awkwardly patted her on the back once again, her expression tight and her arms stiff as she repeated in her mind, "It will all be worth it in the end." As she drew back, Diana saw relief pass into her mother's eyes and resisted shaking her head.
While her husband had been alive, Minerva McGonagall (she had kept her maiden name as a sign of independence) had been a different woman. She had been more fun loving, happier and most of all, she had been alive. Not alive in the sense that we are all alive, but alive in the sense that she had done what she wanted, when she wanted. If that meant staying out all night just to see the sun rise, then so be it. She didn't shrink from human contact, didn't stay in her husband's old study every day she could find and she would never have interfered so much in Diana's life if Robert had still been alive.
"What is Mark's father's name?" Minerva asked casually, not really interested but thinking she should ask anyway so she would know what to call the man she had added to the list of enemies she would need to deal with, as she dropped her eyes back to the letter resting on the desktop, already beginning to feel a little better just contemplating it. Diana threw her answer over her shoulder as she hurried from the study, wanting to start on the preparations for the two men's arrival as soon as possible since it would only be a few days until their arrival.
"It's Alan."
A/N2: Well, I hope you liked the first instalment. Now I must beg you to be honest and tell me what you thought by clicking that little purple button to the bottom left of your screen. Please! I love hearing your opinions and thoughts.
