Minerva gently placed her arm around his waist, and he his arm around her shoulders, as they made their silent way back to his rooms. Once they reached Albus' office, Minerva swept forward to brew Albus some comforting hot chocolate. She smoothly passed a steaming mug to him, but Albus merely set his cup down and motioned for her to sit beside him. Minerva lightly kneeled at his side, running a thumb over his knuckles. She leveled her chin on his knees, staring unblinkingly at Albus. He felt a wrench in his heart as he stared into her beautiful eyes…Harry's eyes. Minerva looked at him now with a heartbreaking sadness, and it almost was as if Harry was looking at him again…that day they had to give him up to James and Lily Potter for the Potters to raise as their own son. Albus gently touched her eyelids shut with his lips and slowly rested his cheek against her raven colored hair.
Together, Albus and Minerva shared their pain as the memories of their secret son flooded through.
The year was 1980…Albus was visiting Minerva at St. Mungo's after Healer Methywick finished cleaning the blood off her. Minerva smiled gently when she saw Albus approach, bearing a small bouquet of summer primroses. He leaned over her and kissed her lightly on her lips. She clutched his hand and guided it to the soft, white, downy blanket that covered the face of their newborn son. She unfolded the blanket to reveal an angelic, sleeping face. Albus grinned widely at her, stroking her pale skin. Their baby had Minerva's raven black hair, long eyelashes, and even her rosebud mouth. Albus was immensely glad that, once he saw his son open his eyes, the baby even had Minerva's beautiful emerald eyes. Bright and inquisitive, a clever wizard in the making, Healer Methywick had proclaimed.
"What a blessing that our son doesn't look like me," Albus whispered to Minerva, kissing her again once the Healer had left the three alone.
"Albus, I wouldn't say that. He has your nose…and it is so lovely to see it on his face, unbroken and perfectly straight." Minerva said, tracing a long, slender finger down the length of Albus' crooked bridge. "We need to name him, though. I…what do you think is a good name for him?"
"Something that starts with M…for my magnanimous, magnificent…Minerva." Albus gave her a gentle squeeze. "How about Michael, Minerva? Noble and courageous. He does look like a Michael, doesn't he?"
"Michael…" Minerva said slowly, lilting the name over her lips. "Michael, my love. My darling angel. Michael Dumbledore. It's perfect, Al."
And together, they lay back in the sunlit room, their love blooming as radiantly as the primroses Albus had set in the vase.
4 years later: The July morning dawned bright and warm; the sun was already golden in the rooms of Albus' and Minerva's summer cottage. A delightful, childish giggle sounded from behind the door, and Minerva opened it to reveal her son, Michael, grinning impishly at her, and looking irresistibly like Albus. Minerva swooped down and scooped him into her arms, twirling him around into her room and falling on her bed. Both of them burst into tinkling peals of laughter.
"Mummy, you're thilly!" Michael lisped, his eyelashes sweeping down his plump, rosy cheeks. Minerva hugged him close to her, planting a warm kiss on his rosebud lips.
"Happy Birthday, my darling. You're getting so big already. I can't believe it! Where's my baby gone?"
"I'm alwayth gonna be here, Mummy. I'm stayin' here with you." Michael tapped the golden locket containing a lock of his hair against her heart. He smiled in pure sweetness, gazing at her with his large, green eyes…so like her eyes.
Minerva laughed and rested her head against his. Albus had meanwhile Apparated into the living room and ascended the stairs into Minerva's room. He heard his son's bubbly giggles rising with Minerva's tinkling laughter. Dreading what he was about to tell Minerva, Albus hesitated before opening the door to their bedroom.
Upon hearing the door click, Michael wriggled out of Minerva's arms and ran unsteadily to Albus. Albus smiled widely, a smile that did not reach his eyes, and opened his arms, catching his son easily. He kept his eyes on Minerva's face. Using unspoken Legilimency, he implored Minerva to see him alone. Minerva had beamed when she saw him, but a slight frown of worry now creased her forehead.
"Daddy, Daddy, you're here! Do you have a surprise for me? I'm four yearth old today!" Michael reminded Albus that it was indeed his birthday. Albus swallowed quietly and gently nudged his nose against Michael's.
"Here, Mikes. I got your favorite…lemon drops. Now go eat them…not the entire bag! I have to talk to Mum, all right?"
Michael grabbed the candy and bolted out the door. Albus heaved a sigh and straightened up. Flicking his wand to lock the door and place a Silencing Charm on it, he joined Minerva, where she sat, looking worried.
"I've only just heard: Voldemort's risen, Minerva. He's after Michael. Says he's going to end up killing him…"
Minerva's face whitened but she allowed Albus to finish. Her eyes had filled with tears.
"So what we've got to do is hide Michael. Give him away for another family to raise…modify his appearance and his memory. James Potter has agreed to do this for me…a large favor, I know, but…it's for the best."
"Al…Albus! My baby…He can't do this! I won't let it happen, I won't…I won't…" Minerva broke down, sobs racking her body. Albus took her into his arms, softly hushing her, stroking her hair.
A long time passed. Finally, Minerva released Albus and regained her composure.
"We…we need to do it today, Albus?"
"Yes." Albus replied, his voice breaking.
A while later, Michael passed outside his parents' door, pausing when he heard Minerva crying quietly. Softly, he pushed open the door and peeked around. Albus was nowhere to be seen, only Minerva lay on the bed, her tears spreading a dark splotch on the coverlet. Climbing up on his parents' bed and scooting closer to his mother, Michael gently stroked her hair. Minerva started, thinking Albus had returned. But wait, the hand was smaller, gentler, a child's hand.
"Don't cry, Mummy, pwease. I thought you were tho happy earlier. It sthares me when you cry."
"Oh…Michael, my darling. Angel, Mummy's all right. Just had a shock. Oh, come here."
Minerva sat up and rocked Michael gently. It was his birthday. The last birthday that he would share with her and Albus. Before he became the Potters' son.
Minerva didn't know what happened next; she only realized that she was speaking to her son again as though he was an adult. Brokenly, she told Michael the whole truth…until abruptly she stopped. Michael had been quiet the whole time, clinging onto Minerva, his cheek pressed against her heart. Now he looked at her again, his four year old mind seemingly eons older than himself. Perhaps it was because he was her's and Albus' son.
His bright green eyes pierced hers; he looked remarkably like Albus then.
Minerva shakily drew her wand and pointed it at her son. Taking a deep, calming breath, she focused her eyes on his eyes, the latter of which was now wide and trusting.
"Michael…my dearest. I'm so, so sorry that this must happen. Forgive me. Always…remember…that…I love you. Forever."
"Muvver…I…love you. I love you I love you…"
Her mouth opened, but she did not hear her words. A blinding flash of white light, Michael's blazing green eyes, his child-voice echoing in her head…were the last things Minerva saw before tears rendered her vision opaque.
