A/N: I know it's been years since I originally posted this, but I'm going to revamp, and try to finish it if I can! Please reread chapters, if you read them a long time ago, as I'll be going through and correcting some important information (Such as changing Minerva's mother's name to Isobel.)

Minnie's Mistake

Tears had stained her cheeks in the early hours of the morning as she decided on the best course to take…and now those cheeks were pale against the reddened nose and eyes of Minnie's face. She was not quite eighteen, and had only just past her N.E.W.T. at Hogwarts. Her mother had been ecstatic when she'd received A's on nearly all of her exams. She wondered what her mother would think when she learned of Minnie's misfortune…

There could be no doubt, now that she had awakened every day for nearly two weeks and been ill, and no potion she could concoct to settle her stomach had been effective. Minnie fumbled with the buttons of her skirt as she dressed. Already her clothing had grown tight, and she could not be two months along. Hazel eyes rose to look into the mirror and glance at her figure.

She could not recall walking down the stairs, but a few moments later she was standing in front of her mother, wondering how best to break it to her. "Mother?" She spoke timidly, and Isobel looked away from the pot she had just bewitched to stir itself on the stove.

A second's glance upon her daughter's face and she lowered her wand. "What is it, Minnie?"

"Mother, I've…..I'm….th-there's….." But Minnie couldn't seem to get the words out.

Finally Isobel nodded, and led her daughter to a chair at the table. "Sit down, dear, and tell me what's wrong."

Minnie took a deep breath, as tears started dripping down her cheeks again. "I think I'm going to have a baby…" Her hands were clenched together, and her knuckles showed white. How would her mother handle this news? Would she ask about the father?

The color drained from Isobel's face as she studied her daughter's tearstained cheeks. "Oh…." And for a moment that was all the sound she could manage. Minnie wished she'd say something more than that, but Isobel turned back to the pot on the stove and checked to ensure it was still stirring as needed. The girl hung her head and waited, knowing that Isobel would eventually speak.

It was a few moments before her mother did break the silence and by this time Minnie's sleeves were wet with the tears she was still shedding. "Do you know who the father is, Minnie?"

The girl did not want to reply, not because the father was anyone to be ashamed of, indeed, he was an outstanding teacher and he'd been quite interested in her ever since she'd started school. At last she nodded, before looking up to see her mother was still facing the stove. "Yes, mother."

When this was met with more silence, Minnie took a deep breath and added. "But I'd rather not say….he….doesn't know…."

She thought back on the day it had all happened. They'd been under the tree by the lake, going over her notes for a Defense Against the Dark Art's exam, and the Saturday afternoon had already begun to fade into dusk. As it grew darker, Minnie'd moved closer to Albus, as fear of the dark forest grew in her mind. She'd never been so close to it at night. He'd put an arm around her and they'd kissed, until the kissing turned into something more, and they'd returned after-hours to the Gryffindor dormitories.

"Minnie.." Isobel's voice broke through the memory. "You need to tell him. I'll spell your stomach once you start to show to hide it...if you wish to put the child up for adoption, but the father should know.."

She and her mother fought over telling Albus or not, until finally Minnie said she was going back to bed. She never sent an owl to Albus. His mother died a short time later and Minnie didn't think it would be wise to tell him when he was mourning; and then he had to take care of his brother and sister and he stopped sending owls asking how she was doing. He never came to visit and they soon stopped correspondence altogether.

Minerva grew determined to keep her little secret, even a boy she'd met and spent a lot of time with during the summer never knew.. Dougal was a funny boy who made her laugh, and forget the once upon a time attentions of her transfigurations teacher.

Seven months later, Minerva lay abed with aches such as she had never imagined before, as she suffered the labor of childbirth. She gave in to the urge to push as her body struggled to expel the child, squeezing the blankets on either side of her with each contraction until finally she heard the scream of the newborn baby and an ease in the pain.

Andreta, the nurse from St. Mungos suddenly busied herself with the care of the child while Isobel tended to her daughter's needs, healing her torn perineum with a muttered spell. "It's alright Minnie, you did great honey…just relax…the baby's fine."

Minerva could tell her mother was just talking to comfort her, to ease her into a much needed rest, but she wanted to see the baby, wanted to hold it… she didn't even know if it was a boy or a girl, but before she could ask her mother had handed her a mug of something warm. She took a sip of the calming potion, and was asleep before the mug reached her mother's waiting hand.

The child had wailed as she walked away from the orphanage the next morning, and she'd flinched, fighting the urge to look back on the infant as she climbed into the car beside her mother. The girl had blue eyes, like her father, and the fuzzy hair that covered her head would be replaced with brown curls someday.

"Minerva, are you sure this is what you want to do?" Isobel asked as the car's engine roared to life. With a nod of the young woman's head they pulled away from the building, the wailing infant held securely in the arms of the headmistress. Tears were once again trailing down her cheeks, but she could not go back. She was not ready to be a mother, she was not yet eighteen, and she had a future she needed to think about.

Her younger brother Malcom sat in the seat behind her. Malcom was dark haired, and his dark blue eyes were just like their fathers. "Minnie, you made the right decision…you're too young to be a mother." Her brother's know-it-all tone grated on her nerves. "Mal, shut up." She snapped back as they drove away, back toward their cottage in Little Hangleton.

Minerva spent much of the following weeks in bed. She either slept or lay awake thinking about the baby, and how the little girl must be doing, wondering if the headmistress at the already overcrowded orphanage had enough time for the child, to tend to her needs. She wondered whether the little girl would show any sign of magic, and if she did, what would be done to separate her from the muggle children who shared her new home.

After a month of her daughter's moping, Isobel decided it was time to send Minerva somewhere far away to forget about the baby who lived in the muggle village of Great Hangleton only a few miles away. One morning Minnie sat at the breakfast table while her mother put the finishing touches on some fruit salad. The girl looked thin and a bit older than she had only a few months ago. Her mother's hazel eyes met hers as she sat down, and Malcom's ramblings about the Potters and their daughter Andreta who was so beautiful and funny were brought to an abrupt halt when Isobel spoke. "Minerva, I thought it might be best if you went to stay with Aunt Bathilda, in Godric's Hollow. Gellert's there, so you won't be bored, and maybe a change of scenery would do you well?

The silence was harsh, and a frown appeared on her brother's brow when Minnie didn't respond right away. She looked as though she were under some sort of confundus charm, but Minnie was thinking about Albus, who lived in Godric's Hollow. With a subtle nod to her mother, Minnie agreed to go, but she dreaded the moment when she'd come face to face with the father of a child that had once been hers.