Michael sat at his desk later that day, having completed a particularly nasty essay on recognizing certain poisons for Snape. He dipped his quill into his inkpot, and finished the last sentence wearily. Rubbing his eyes, he pushed his essay farther away on his desk and slumped down, closing his burning eyes. He was so tired that he did not bother removing his round glasses. Within seconds, he was out cold.

Minerva meanwhile had climbed the stairs gracefully and stopped at her son's doorway. She saw his lamp burning lower and lower, and his head resting on his arms. She called his name softly.

"Michael? Michael, darling, it's time for dinner."

There was no response. She quietly approached him and kneeled next to him. Stroking his black hair with her long, elegant fingers, she again whispered his name. He stirred groggily and raised his head. His eyes were dull and shadowed with fatigue.

"Huh?"

"Michael, sweet, you fell asleep. It's time to eat. Come on, I made your favorite."

"Oh. I…I'm…just…so tired. I think I'll…"

"Get something to eat, Michael. You haven't eaten much today yet." Minerva fixed her son with a piercing stare and he reluctantly giggled. He slipped down and ducked from her hand. She laughed and followed him downstairs, where Albus was already waiting for the both of them.

"Nothing burned for dinner, Mike," Albus said cheerfully, grinning bashfully at Minerva; she twinkled her eyes, letting Albus know she forgave him for this morning's breakfast disaster. Michael laughed. He waited until Albus and Minerva were seated before he lowered himself into his chair. Minerva squeezed his hand gently and waved her wand. Three platefuls of scrumptious food carefully whizzed their way.

"Michael, your Dad and I want you to be happy here, all right?"

"I am, happier than I've ever been, Mum," Michael replied truthfully. He quickly lowered his eyes and attempted to discreetly brush his tears away. Albus noticed this, but declined to point it out to Minerva, who was looking at their son's bent head. Albus stroked his Minerva's cheek and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Well…I'm hungry, aren't you both as well?"

"Oh, um, yes." Michael reached for his napkin and shook it out. Minerva nodded and raised a forkful to her mouth.

A slightly tense silence followed, but Albus hummed quietly into the silence. At last, Michael spoke again, in a tremulous whisper.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"I was wondering…could you tell me more about what really happened? Mum told me briefly…during school, and I was hoping that…I…"

"Oh, of course, Michael," Albus said seriously, placing his fork by his plate. Minerva opened her mouth to speak, but stopped.

"You see, Michael, eleven years ago, Voldemort emerged from the dead, avenging his downfall by seeking out the only way he could regenerate his broken soul: by committing an atrocious act of evil. He vowed to hunt you down, the reasons for his motivation is unclear, and ultimately kill you. Your mother and I…we decided, to protect you, we would put…"

"A Blood Protection Charm." Michael breathed, looking into Minerva's tear-filled eyes. "Yes, I heard. It would link my blood to Mum's. As long as her enchantment lived in my body, Voldemort could never really harm me." He rose from his seat, unable to bear seeing the pained expression on Minerva's face, and hugged his mother tightly. She returned his embrace; her tears fell into his hair.

"Yes." Albus replied quietly, watching them sorrowfully. "I'm sorry, Michael. One day, when you're older, I will tell you more."

"I'm sorry that I caused you pain, Michael, and years of abuse." Minerva cupped his face in her cool palms and brushed her fingers across his lightning-bolt scar.

"I am just happy to be with you again, both of you."

"We love you, son."

/-/-/-/-/

The candlelight brightened in the small cottage as dusk settled in. At precisely 9:30, Minerva wordlessly summoned Michael to his bedroom. Albus was already upstairs, folding back the light coverlet, and looked up when they approached.

"Ah, sleep well, Mikes. I'll see you in the morning." Albus bent down and gave Michael a light kiss on the forehead. Michael momentarily brought his arms around Albus' shoulders and buried his face in the tart, lemony scent of his robes. Then Albus released him, patted Michael lightly on the shoulder and left.

Minerva closed her eyes briefly when Albus touched her cheek. She gazed into his sapphire blue eyes and gave a terse nod.

"Now, Michael, into bed. It's been a long day."

"A great day…" Michael mumbled sleepily with a drowsy smile. His eyes half shut while still looking at her. He quickly fell asleep. Minerva smiled at him and gently removed his round glasses from his slightly crooked nose, placing them on his bedside dresser. Brushing his messy hair over his scar, she pressed a kiss into his forehead.

"Love you…Mummy…."

"I love you, Mikes," Minerva whispered. She crossed over to his desk and noticed his essay for Snape lying curled on the desk. She blew out his candle and softly closed his door.

/-/-/-/-/

Albus was waiting for Minerva with a mug of steaming Earl Grey tea in his hands. He smiled widely when he heard her light footsteps approaching their bedroom. He stood up and faced her with a hopeful smile on his face.

"I thought you might enjoy a cup of tea and…a game of chess with me, dear."

"Oh, Albus. That would be lovely, thank you."

Minerva accepted the tea and lifted the cup to her lips. Her eyelashes swept downward and she sighed happily. Albus stood behind her and gently massaged circles into her shoulders. Minerva loosened her ponytail and a cascade of raven colored hair washed over Albus. He chuckled and nibbled softly at her neck.

"I've never seen you as happy as you are these days, my love."

"I have all the reason to be, darling."

"Do you?" Albus leaned closer and breathed in slightly.

"Yes."

Albus closed the distance between them. Minerva set down her cup of tea. Thus began a kiss of passion, of temperament, of enduring love.