The Forgotten Tale

by MsMcGonagall

Few knew the second prophecy, the one of three children born in the end of July and grown up in broken familys. These would play a great role in the coming war. The third child was a girl. Maira McGonagall is the daughter of Minerva's only son Matthew. After her mother's death her father raised her single handed at Hogwarts. AU no pairings

1. A birth and a death

AN: I don't own Harry Potter I merely borrowing JK's fantastic characters.

Chapter 1 A birth and a death

It was over, after 20 gruesome hours it was over. It was eerily quiet in the house now, except for the tiny whimpers coming from the bundle in his arms. This wasn't how it was suppose to end. He glanced at the bed in the room; one of the healers had covered her with a sheet. Alicia his beautiful wife had been adamant to have a home birth. Nothing he had said could've changed her mind. Everything had started completely normal and both had been happy with the prospect of meeting their child, their miracle. But after 14 hours of labour pains something had gone wrong. The midwife who had come to the delivery the baby had gone white, and suddenly the house was crawling with healers. At 1.27 am the 29th of July their beautiful daughter had been born. Alicia had fought for two hours after the birth, before her body gave up. The healer had done all in the power to save her. They've told him as much afterwards. This was not how it was supposed to end, they had struggle for 3 years to have a child, and they were supposed to raise her together. He stared out the window were the sun was rising.

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Time ceased to be, Matthew didn't know how long he stood there staring out the window. His daughter was sleeping peacefully in his arms, oblivious of what had happened around her. Her tiny fist had a firm hold on his index finger. They were alone now, the funeral home had been there retrieving the body, leaving behind only the memories and the healers had gone back to St. Mungos. The door creaked slightly as it opened and Matthew turned around slowly to see his mother enter the room. Minerva McGonagall had a reputation as a strict teacher and dressed accordingly, but in that moment most students of Hogwarts wouldn't recognize their deputy head. Her hair was hanging loosely around her shoulders and she was wearing simple emerald green robes, her face was etched with concern and compassion. Matthew wondered briefly how his mother knew what had happened, but her presences were comforting.

"Matthew!" Minerva said softly as she came up next to him putting a comforting hand at his shoulder. Matthew could feel the tears starting to burn his eyes, and he wished for a time that had past, when he was a child and his mother could fix the world for him. He knew that nobody could fix this and the events of the night finally took its toll and he broke down sobbing in his mother's arms.

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Matthew blinked slowly; the sunlight was shining in trough the window. He glanced around him trying to orientate his surroundings, it took a few moments before he realize that he was lying in the bed in the guest-room. His memory were fuzzy and he wasn't sure how ended up there. The last thing he remembered was his mother taking his daughter before giving him some tea to drink. He could hear his mother down in the kitchen singing softly. Matthew ignored his protesting body, and ventured downstairs slowly. His mother looked up from the pot on the stove she was stirring when he entered.

"Sit down and I'll get you some food," she said shooing him towards the table. He stopped at the basket next to the table looking down at his sleeping daughter. He stroked her head lightly before brushing a soft kiss on her head.

"You slipped me a calming draught," he said accusingly as he sat down. His mother placed a plate of lamb stew in front of him and frowned at him.

"You need to sleep, you were exhausted," she said sitting down so they were facing each other. She studied him silently as he picked his stew. Matthew didn't say anything for a while, taking some comfort in his mother's presence.

"She wasn't supposed to die," he said finally looking at his mother.

"I know", she said placing a comforting hand over his. The pain from his wife death was eating him alive, how would he ever be able to go on without her. As she could feel her father's pain the baby let out a tiny whimper and opened her eyes. Matthew was there instantly cradling her and cooing softly at her. As he sat down his mother handed him a bottle which his daughter accepted eagerly.

"Does she have a name yet?" his mother asked him. He looked down on the tiny baby in his arms, and he knew he would everything for her.

"We were going to call her Maira," he said without taking his eyes of his daughter. "Maira Alicia," he added in an afterthought. It was fitting that she would be named after her mother.

"It is beautiful name" Minerva said. They stayed in the kitchen silently as Maira finished her bottle and fell asleep again in her father arms.

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Matthew looked around the small living room in his quarters. It had been nicely furnished curtsy to his mother and everything they would need was there. The burial had been the day before, two weeks after her death, and it had been extremely painful. During the past two weeks he had mourned but also somehow managed to plan ahead a bit. He had decided the cottage they had shared housed too many painful memories. Instead he had moved into his quarters at Hogwarts where he was teaching ancient runes. He had moved directly after the funeral. Matthew told himself that it would be easier this way, but part of him knew that he did it to escape the pain. Maira started crying in the nursery and he hurried there picking her up, cradling her in his arms. She stopped crying and looked at him with blue eyes. Matthew sat down with her in the rocking chair, rocking softly. He studied her, she was perfect. His heart was overflowing with love for her and he knew that somehow they would make it work. Somehow they might be alright.