First prompt used: First Grandchild

Word Count: 2078

Chapter Three

My Summer Wine

August 1st, 1974

Summer had finally come around for Minerva, and she couldn't be happier for a well earned rest.

The academic year that had just passed had been a particularly difficult one. Minerva adored the students, even though she may not show it externally, but she couldn't deny that as she got older they began to take a toll on her. Dumbledore often told Minerva that she took on too many responsibilities on at once, but Minerva wouldn't hear of changing her routine. She enjoyed to keep busy—it kept her mind from other things.

Minerva didn't particularly enjoy leaving the castle for the lonely house that she'd inherited in Caithness. It was an empty old building, full of memories of the family that used to thrive there. Of course, she had spent a brief few years there with Tom, which they had fond memories of. But Minerva wouldn't allow herself to dwell on those particular recollections.

No; it was much easier for Minerva if she chose to remain at Hogwarts during the summer holidays with a handful of the other teachers. Hogwarts was her home now, not Caithness.

So, as she was settling down to start off the long summer break before the students would annually return, she allowed herself a small glass of sherry in her Gryffindor office. This too, was an annual event.

However, unbeknownst to Minerva, a new event commencing a few floors below, whilst she sat in the Gryffindor tower enjoying her beverage. It was something that she could never have imagined happening; not in her wildest dreams.

At two-thirty in the morning of the first of August, Minerva was awoken by Albus Dumbledore waiting patiently outside of her bedchamber, knocking on the door. She covered her nightwear with a tartan dressing gown and unfastened the straps of her nightcap slightly, before rushing out into the Gryffindor common room to meet the Headmaster.

She expected there to be something terrible happening; Tom, although not at his full level of power at the moment, was still well on his way to becoming a dark wizard, and Minerva was confident that any missing wizard reports in the Daily Prophet were his doing. Her first dreadful thought was that he had broken into the castle with his Death Eaters, and was preparing to destroy the school.

However, Albus had an unusual smile on his face, one that someone probably shouldn't be wearing at such early hours in the morning. But Minerva had long since learned to expect the unusual from Albus Dumbledore.

He led her through the castle silently whilst Minerva politely held her tongue, though she was desperate to question the headteacher on just what he was doing, dragging her out of bed at this late hour. Eventually, they reached Dumbledore's office, and he announced the password to the golden gargoyle that guarded the stairway.

"Sugar plum," he declared, flourishing his hands at the gargoyle. As expected, it began to stir and rotate, allowing Albus and Minerva to step onto the stairway and make their way up to his office. "Please, go inside," he offered as they reached the top. Minerva shrugged slightly, and headed straight into Albus's large office.

Minerva had seen the office a hundred times to know what it contained and how huge it was, but she was still mystified by the beautiful circular room every time she entered. However, today she tried to avoid gazing around the room. Obviously, she was here on business, whether or not Albus was going to tell her what it was yet. With an air of confidence, Minerva strolled through the office until she reached his desk.

Sitting in the large chair behind his desk was a young woman, only nineteen or twenty at the most. She had long, brown hair that was hanging untidily around her shoulders, and she was wearing shabby, holey clothes. The grey shirt she was wearing was open at the neck, exposing her breast, which she was using to feed a dark haired baby in her arms.

Minerva raised her eyebrow slowly, a little unsure of the scene that was playing out in front of her. With a small breath, she cleared her throat, and the woman flinched, causing the baby to lose it's grip on her breast and begin to cry. Hurriedly, the woman began to button up her shirt again to protect her modesty, and jiggled her child, her face flushing red.

A little confused, Minerva continued to remain silent until Albus stepped up behind her. "Minerva, I would like you to meet this young lady. Nadine Wilson."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Wilson," Minerva greeted stiffly, still a little sceptical as to why she had been brought here to meet this woman. However, she couldn't deny that there was something eerily familiar about her. There was an almost ethereal paleness of her skin; a slender, pointed chin; glittering, defensive eyes. Minerva looked to Albus questioningly, and thankfully he obliged.

"Minerva, this is your daughter," Albus stated airily.

Minerva suddenly felt her body go rigid, as if she were paralysed. Her mind flooded with a thousand explanations; none of which could connect to the way she felt at that moment.

After what seemed like an age of staring at the young girl, Minerva finally cracked open her mouth to speak. "H...how can this be?" she gasped, unsure of who she was actually talking to; herself, Albus or Nadine. She decided to turn her attention to Albus, as another worry settled in the pit of her stomach.

How could Albus know that she had a child? She had been sure never to tell anyone about the baby she gave birth to, and her relationship with Tom had definitely been a private affair. If Albus knew that Nadine was Minerva's daughter, did he also know about her old relationship with the man who now called himself Voldemort?

The blood in her chest ran cold as she considered this. All the while, Albus continued to allow his eyes to twinkle at her knowingly, as if he was well aware of the struggle she was currently going through.

"I assure you Minerva, whatever your decisions were when you gave birth to Nadine, and whomever is her father, I assure you I do not judge you for any action or decision you made," he told her. Minerva remained silent—she had never been able to understand this brilliant man and the way he almost seemed able to look into a person's soul. He reached into a glass bowl full of colourful sweets on his desk, and popped one into his mouth. "However, I think that now may be my cue to leave," he finished, and then made his way out of the office, leaving Minerva alone with Nadine.

They didn't speak for several moments, continuing to just stare at one another. Minerva was still shocked at her appearance, and now she knew who she was, she could place her familiarities. Her eyes were the same as Minerva's; deep, glimmering green jewels set in her face. Her long, dark brown hair was also reminiscent of Minerva's when she was younger, and she had the same slender, thin body that Minerva once had. However, that was where her similarities to her birth mother ended.

Her facial structure was identical to Tom's, and that was what scared her. Even though she looked quite afraid at the moment, clutching her baby protectively as if Minerva was going to snatch it out of her arms, Minerva still felt as though she were looking into her daughters face and seeing the murderer that she had once loved.

Finally, she opened her mouth to speak. "I'm sorry," she started, unsure how else she should begin. "I'm sorry I gave you to the orphanage. It's not the life I ever planned for any child of mine, but you must understand—"

"—It's okay," Nadine concluded. She still looked slightly afraid, if not a little nervous, but there was a warm smile spreading on her face. "It's okay," she repeated. "I don't want to hear why you left me. All I ever wanted to do was find you, so that we could have a proper relationship."

"Where have you been?" Minerva asked desperately. Now she had finally broken the first barrier to speak, the questions were flowing. "Where did the family you went with live? Did they give you a good life?"

Nadine continued to smile. "Mama and Papa gave me a wonderful life," she assured Minerva. Her smile faltered a little at this point, however. "I lived in France, and went to Beauxbatons there. But Mama and Papa died this time last year."

Minerva felt her lip wobble in learning that her daughter had been forced to endure such suffering at a young age. "I'm so sorry, dear. How did they die?" she immediately expected the worst.

"They were elderly, even when they first adopted me," Nadine told her. "Papa was the first to die, and then Mama was so heartbroken that I think she just gave up."

They both remained silent at this point, and Minerva noticed a single tear streaming down Nadine's face as she looked down at the infant in her arms. Minerva sat down quickly in the chair opposite her daughter, and reached out to stroke her arm. Initially, Nadine flinched at the contact, but she warmed up fairly quickly.

"Is this why you came to find me, child?" Minerva asked softly.

"No," Nadine replied swiftly. "When I fell pregnant, I needed someone to guide me, to help me. But I didn't even know who you were; it took me my entire pregnancy to discover who you were and where I could find you. So here I am...albeit, it's a little late to guide me through childbirth. But I thought you should meet me," she paused, and held out the infant towards Minerva. "And your Grandson. This is William."

Minerva took the baby tenderly, and looked down into his tiny face. He was clearly only a few weeks old, and had no recognisable features yet, other than the mop of ebony hair upon his head. Minerva carefully combed a stray piece of hair from his face, and leaned down to press a kiss to his soft, powdery forehead. "He's beautiful," she whispered.

She was still so shocked, but so thankful. She knew that one day, she would have to tell Nadine exactly what prompted her to give up her baby, but for now they could enjoy the moment together.

Minerva had been so lonely, for so many years, and now it seemed that she had found two new family members in one package. Happiness swelled within her, the strongest level of euphoria that she'd felt in a very long time.

"I want to build a relationship with you," Nadine paused, and licked her lips tenderly. "Mother."

Minerva turned her gaze to Nadine with tears in her eyes. "Of course," she replied, her breath catching in her throat.

"There's just one more thing," Nadine continued. Minerva nodded.

"Anything, dear."

Nadine took another deep breath. "I know it might be too soon," she started. "But I want to know who my father is. And maybe...meet him?"

Minerva felt any traces of happiness suddenly spiralling away from her heart. Of course, Nadine had no idea who her father was. It wasn't unlikely that she hadn't heard of Voldemort yet, and if she did know who he was, it would probably terrify her.

She had lost twenty years of her daughters life, and she wasn't going to ruin it already.

Minerva needed to tell her the truth.