A/N: Hello one and all, how are we this evening? I am finally updating Mothers! How exciting is that! This one turned out to be COMPLETELY different to how Spin and I sort of planned it, but there we are. We can't win all the time can we.

Points for those of you who notice a little homage to a fairly new author called Kreacher's Peepers who writes awesome fics based on my little stories. I'm honoured by their flattery and if you haven't checked out their stuff, you should. No kids though…lol (watch them all go and look now…sigh…kids these days…)

As always: Thanks be to Spin. Cos she's awesome mainly, but also cos she's an amazing beta and I'm not sure what I'd do without her! Love ya hun!

-0-

Today had been a good day in Minerva's opinion. It wasn't often that she enjoyed birthdays, but Albus had awoken her from her sleep with a series of butterfly kisses dancing along her shoulder, before he roused her properly and they enjoyed a few leisurely hours in bed together.

Minerva had come to love weekends, whereas before she had Harry, and subsequently Albus, and even Hermione and Ron in her life, she would spend them catching up on her marking, or arguing with Severus about who was taking the next Hogsmeade trip, or why he insisted on taking points from her Gryffindors.

This weekend was her best to date. The uninterrupted morning with Albus was followed by three rowdy Gryffindors all running to her and showering her with cuddles and presents – the latest Transfiguration books from Hermione and a book on the Chudley Cannons from Ron, who smirked cheekily while she looked through it trying to be polite. That was until he pulled another present from his robes, revealed to be a new scarf. She chuckled and smacked his arm, before giving both Hermione and Ron a hug that warmed her heart.

Harry was stood awkwardly at the end of the sofa holding a small package. Minerva looked up at her son, opening her arms and let him sit next to her as he blushingly passed over her gift . She opened it, chuckling when Harry sighed and tried to move away, but she grabbed his arm, and tucked it around her own as she continued unwrapping. As she opened the box she gasped at the pure beauty of the necklace she found inside.

"Oh Harry," she whispered, running her fingers over the locket, "it's beautiful! Help me put it on, darling."

She let Harry fasten the clasp behind her neck and she looked down at it, smiling when she saw it hung between the jewel they all wore as members of the Tri fir Dheug and the top of her robes.

"Open it," he said shyly.

She did what he asked, smiling, despite the tears in her eyes when she saw a picture of Harry, Ron and Hermione in one side, and Albus in the other. It was clear that this year Harry had sorted his own present, as the necklace was undoubtedly muggle, and the unmoving pictures were most likely from Hermione's camera.

"Mo balachan [my little boy]," she said holding him close, "although not so little anymore, hmm?" she said kissing his hair. "Let's all have breakfast in the Great Hall and then you three can enjoy the fine weather and come back here for dinner later, yes?" she asked, receiving nods all around. "Good. Thank you so much for my presents, darlings. Have a wonderful day and I will see you back here."

The children walked from her rooms, smiling and laughing with each other, and Minerva felt, just for a second, the troubles of the last few months lift from her shoulders. Smiling as Albus wrapped his arms around her and swayed her gently she hoped that she could look forward to many more birthdays surrounded by family, but pushed those thoughts aside as future visions of her family without Albus in it came into her head. Right now though she was looking forward to kippers on toast. She giggled with glee at Albus' face when she suggested it.

"Again? But you've had that every day this week. Don't you fancy something different for a change? I could have the elves make you some chocolate porridge?" He asked hopefully.

"It's my birthday love," she called as she exited the room. "You'll just have to put up with it."

-0-

A week later and Harry woke in a sweat, searching around groggily for his glasses as he groaned in pain. He finally found them just as his stomach rolled, making him heave up the remains of his dinner all over his bed.

Unable to cope with what he'd just done he groaned once more, the smell and the sight of his bed being covered with vomit made him hurl again, and he was unable to stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks.

-0-

Poppy Pomfrey was no stranger to long nights. She loved her job, she wouldn't do it if she didn't, because there were certainly better things to do than look after ill children. However, a good run of luck had kept her in her bed most nights, cuddled up with her husband, simply enjoying his presence beside her.

Tonight was not one of those nights.

The wards of the hospital wing sounded at twenty past two and she struggled to get out of bed. Blearily, she stepped through the magical doorway connecting her private rooms directly with the castle and blinked in astonishment at the chaos she found herself in.

"Oh Poppy, thank goodness!" Filius said, looking as tired as she felt. "I'm afraid some of my students have taken ill."

She snorted at the understatement for there were close to fifteen students all looking green around the gills, leaning against the walls or lying half off the beds. Luckily he had the foresight to conjure them all self-emptying buckets – something she was eternally grateful for.

"Thank you Filius. If you would be so kind as to let the other Heads of House know, I would be much obliged. Something that is this widespread in one House is sure to be not far behind in the others," she said knowingly, moving swiftly over the first student she came to.

"How are you feeling child?" she asked quietly, waving her wand in a complicated manoeuvre and scrutinising the read out. "Merlin, not well I take it." Quickly moving to the store room she managed to find enough doses of anti-nausea potion to effectively curb the illness she was sure all of them had.

"All right everyone, please take a seat on the beds, I'll be around with a potion in a minute," she said making sure they were all sitting comfortably as she moved around the room.

The door banged open just as she had finished treating the last Ravenclaw and she sighed as she saw Pomona Sprout wheezing slightly, and looking as green as some of her students.

"Poppy, I think I'm dying," she said quite seriously as Poppy watched her face pale rapidly. Rolling her eyes, Poppy directed Pomona into the private rooms reserved for teachers and students with the most dire of illnesses, before ushering the Hufflepuffs into the main ward.

The door banged again not long after and Poppy tiredly wiped her forehead as she turned to see a very unimpressed Severus Snape sneering at the chaos surrounding her.

"I see you are faring no better than myself," he said sardonically. "At least I, however, have the foresight to treat my House within their rooms, instead of traipsing them through the castle and spreading their infectious diseases."

Rolling her eyes, Poppy continued to work on the students filling the hospital ward, but spoke to him quietly as she did so.

"What can I do for you Severus, considering you are more than capable of dealing with your own students?"

She paused for a moment when no answer was forthcoming and she looked up in surprise at a rather sheepish looking Severus Snape – a sight that not many ever bear witness to.

"I, I have more potion brewing, it will arrive in the store cupboard in approximately twenty nine minutes," he said, sweeping out of the hospital wing before she could utter a sound.

"Well," she said to herself, "now, I really have seen it all."

-0-

"Harry? Harry, are you all right?"

Harry didn't care who was talking to him, and he was in no fit state to answer as it was. He had the most awful pain in his stomach and he really did not want to vomit anymore. He'd rolled up his covers and heaped them next to his bed, and despite the fever he was sure he had, he was shivering.

"Harry mate, what's happening?"

It was Ron's voice that finally roused him from his delirium.

"Not. Feeling. Good." he managed to mutter, curling into a ball and rocking back and forth, hiding his tears behind his knees.

"I'll get McGonagall."

Harry didn't know how long he'd been left in peace before a cool hand touched his forehead and he felt his mother's love burst forward.

"Boys, everyone out of this room – right now!" came her stern voice from beside his head. He didn't really care what was going on around him; he simply wanted the pain to stop.

He had never been this ill at the Dursley's, not that he could remember at least. He supposed he probably must have at some point, but realised he would have simply remained in his cupboard keeping quiet.

"Harry, ciamar a tha sibh [how are you feeling]?" she whispered, and Harry felt her hand on his face again. "You're burning up leanabh [baby]."

He moaned piteously as he was rolled onto his back and his hands were gently unclasped from around his knees.

"It's okay mo mhac [my son], it's okay."

"It hurts, Màthair," he whispered, blinking rapidly as he felt another wave pass over him. This time he had a little more presence of mind and he flew out of the bed and into the bathroom, skidding to a halt over the toilet, his stomach expelling everything in one continuous fashion until he didn't have anything left.

The burning in his throat matched the feverish burning of his skin as he desperately tried to suck in some air through his nose.

All the while though there was a cool hand on his back, rubbing up and down, and he realised in some still clear part of his mind that his mother really did love him, or else why would she be here witnessing such a thing.

Finally overcome with sheer exhaustion he collapsed next to the basin, unable to remain conscious any longer.

-0-

Minerva huffed as she thumped her pillow into a more comfortable position. She was desperate for some sleep, yet seemed unable to catch even a nap as she lay in the darkness of her rooms.

Albus was away at a meeting, leaving her in charge and she was so tired after a full day of teaching, then catching up on her marking and finally Albus' mountains of correspondence. Why the Minister for Magic was asking Albus about the best way to make toffee, she didn't know, but it was a troubling thought nonetheless that the Minister would be focussing on such trivial things, and to be asking via official Ministry mail no less.

Groaning loudly to the empty room, Minerva finally accepted that she would not get any sleep, and so got up, summoning her favourite blanket as she did and curled up on the sofa in front of the fire.

"Clamar a tha thu inghean [How are you daughter]?"

The soft voice of her mother made her smile and she turned in her position to face the portrait.

"Tha mi sgith Màthair [I'm tired mother]," she replied sadly. "Albus is away and," she shook her head thinking about what a useless sop she was turning into.

"You miss him," her mother said knowingly, smiling down at her.

"Yes, yes all right, I miss him." Minerva conceded rather ungraciously. "I, I find myself unaccustomed to sleeping without him next to me."

Isobel nodded understandingly and Minerva wished just for a second that the woman could hold her in her arms once more.

"A sure sign of love though," Isobel remarked softly, making Minerva laugh.

"He may drive me to distraction sometimes, but yes, I love him, so much Màthair. I," she frowned as she thought about what she had done, and what she would have to do in the years to come.

"What is it child, what troubles you?"

Minerva sighed and realised suddenly that her mother was the one person she could talk to about this, seeing as now that she was a portrait, her mother couldn't tell anyone.

"I may have done a foolish thing," she said contritely. She watched her mother's eyebrow arch and she grinned, knowing that it was a trait she used to great effect herself. "I, well, Albus was given some rather disturbing news regarding the future," she explained, quickly summing up the details of the children's discovery of Merlin and his home during the summer holidays. "Then Merlin took Albus away and when he came back he was so distant I didn't know what to do. Many nights later he explained that he was trying to protect me, trying to make me hate him, because," Minerva paused as a tear rolled down her face and she looked pleadingly up at her mother, "because this war will kill him."

"Oh little tabby cat!" her mother said tenderly, feeling every ounce of her pain as she watched her daughter break down.

"That's not the worst of it though," she continued. "The worst part is the night he told me I was so confused, so utterly helpless to do anything to prevent it, that I did, I did something that I shouldn't have done."

She lifted her tired, tear-filled eyes up to her mother and choked back a sob.

"I swore on my magic that I would not let Albus Dumbledore die."

"Oh kitten!" Isobel breathed. She'd expected something else, anything but that. "Minerva, why, why would you do that? Why with so much to live for?" she chastised. "Oh darling, you have so much to live for, so much to do with your life. You can have a second chance, a chance at a family with that lovely young Harry, why on earth would you do that?"

"I have to Màthair! I love him so much, and I know that Harry, I," She burst into tears, unable to cope anymore, and finally feeling the months of tension erupt from her body.

She cried for longer than she thought was possible before pulling herself together.

"I am sorry Mother, I'm not sure what has come over me. Poppy thinks I am experiencing the menopause again, a fact I am not all that pleased about."

"Minerva, don't change the subject. What are you going to do?"

Taking a deep breath and drying her face, Minerva looked up at her mother feeling every inch of power behind the words that came from her mouth.

"I am going to save him."

Just as Isobel was about to council her daughter on the foolishness of her actions, there was a frantic pounding on her door.

"Min! Min!"

She frowned at hearing Ron's voice and opened the door quickly to see a rather dishevelled and shivering Ron Weasley.

"Ronald, what on earth are you doing, you look freezing!" she scolded, Transfiguring his socks into slippers and passing him a robe that she had changed from a nearby coat.

"Harry's ill."

Minerva's world came to a standstill.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Harry's ill, there's something wrong with him."

Minerva swayed a little as she tried to focus on Harry through their bond, her exhaustion finally catching up with her.

"I can't, I can't feel him," she said quietly, her breathing coming a little more rapidly as the bond she had come to rely on so heavily had seemingly disappeared altogether from her mind.

"You need to come now Min, he's not well." Ron insisted, tugging on her hand.

Snapping out of her confusion she nodded once, waved to her mother and was then racing through the halls with Ron barely keeping time with her fast paced walk. They flew up the stairs to the Fourth Year boy's dormitory and found most of the residents looking rather tired, but still healthy, until she saw Harry's pitiful form curled up on his bed, shivering with cold. Unable to immediately determine what was wrong with him, Minerva evicted all the other students from the room, before climbing onto Harry's bed and cradling his head in her lap.

"Harry?"

He moaned pitifully and she sent all the love she had for him through their bond that had mysteriously re-appeared as her fingers touched his skin. She continued to do so as he moaned and writhed in discomfort before finally leaping off the bed and running into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before he was vomiting again.

"It's okay baby, I've got you," she whispered, her own body rebelling as she dealt with the stark realities of a sick child. She spelled as much mess as possible away from them, clearing the air as best she could before Harry slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor, completely unconscious. Panicking, she lifted him up and turned on the spot, appearing seconds later in the private rooms of the hospital wing.

-0-

"Poppy, Poppy I need your help!" she called, peering out of the door, her eyes widening in surprise at what she saw. Clearly whatever Harry had he was not alone, and Poppy looked close to dropping as she swept through administering potions left, right and centre, dismissing and admitting varying degrees of illness.

"Minerva, what on earth are you doing here?"

Minerva could tell that Poppy was giving her a scrutinising look, but right now she couldn't care less. Her son was ill and she needed him seen to immediately.

"Harry is ill, more so than I believe any of these students are. Although I do not know how long he has been so, as, well, as I can no longer feel the bond if we are not touching," she admitted quietly, frowning as she once again contemplated the reasons for the unknown.

"While I am not an expert on such matters, it is possible that the bond has shut down to prevent you from becoming ill as well," Poppy soothed. "He certainly is ill, but it seems the worst of it is over. Nothing that a good night's rest won't cure," she said, looking Minerva up and down. "Something you should take under advisement also. And don't think I've forgotten about our talk Minerva, I still want you to come and see me."

Minerva huffed and protested, stopping only when Poppy placed her hand on her arm.

"Please Minerva, you do not know what is happening right now with your body. Not only would it answer your questions, we could also accurately get a picture of how old your body truly is, and whether or not it looks to be sustainable."

Sighing, Minerva conceded that it would be good to finally know whether or not it was the menopause, although she was feeling more and more certain by the moment that it was. The hot flushes and the mood swings, the heightened emotions and even the constant hunger and tiredness all pointed in that direction.

"All right Poppy, although I cannot promise you when, I, I will come and see you soon," she conceded, gathering Harry into her arms after muttering a feather-light charm on him. "Right now though, I believe Harry and I need to rest."

She turned on the spot once more, arriving back in her rooms and smiling as she did so at the good fortune of being Acting Headmistress, even if only for a few hours. Apparition was so much more preferable to walking the halls at times like this.

She placed Harry gently in her bed, smoothing his frown with a soft touch before apparating back to the Gryffindor common room, finding most of the boys half asleep on the sofas.

"Boys, no doubt you can all return to your beds now. Mr Potter will not be returning tonight, but rest assured, he will most likely be well again by morning." She nodded as Ron smiled at her and winked as he walked past, trudging up to bed with the rest of the Fourth Years.

She managed to spare a tickle for Crookshanks before she returned to her rooms, groaning as she lay down next to her son.

"Oh my boy, what are we going to do with you?" she sighed, running her fingers through his hair.

"M-Màthair," he groaned, rolling over and burying his face into her shoulder. Chuckling lightly, she allowed him to and wrapped her arms around him, sighing as she felt her eyelids droop. It had certainly been a long night.

-0-

Harry's eyes flew open with a groan when the bed he was lying in jerked as someone raced out of it. Sitting up he blinked rapidly, clearing his blearily eyes, looking around the room trying to work out where he was, and why he felt so awful. Trying to quell the uneasiness in his stomach he took a deep breath, smiling when he smelled a familiar mixture of ginger, and parchment and lavender.

"Màthair?"

He looked over to the partially closed bathroom door, frowning when he heard his mother coughing.

"Màthair, are you alright?"

Knocking on the door, he pushed it open gently to find his mother hunched over the toilet heaving loudly. His eyes widened and he froze, not really knowing what to do. He looked back at the bedroom for a moment before remembering just how she had been there for him all night and he closed his eyes and screwed up his courage.

"It's alright Màthair, it's okay," he said, trying to sound supportive as he patted her shoulder awkwardly. He realised that during the night her hair must have come loose from her long braid and was now dangerously close to getting messy; so, struggling a little with inexperience, he tried to gather it up in his hand, desperately thanking Hermione and even Ginny for tying up their hair in front of him.

"It's alright my boy, I'm just-" Minerva didn't get much further than that before she was once again bent over the bowl.

Harry frowned trying not to be sick himself as he listened to Minerva. Vaguely recalling her warm, comforting hand on his back he did the same, gently running it up and down her spine.

"Harry? Minerva!"

Harry spun towards the door, sagging in relief at the sight of Albus Dumbledore, who looked understandably horrified at the scene before him.

"Harry, how about you go and find us some tea. We will be with you in a minute." Albus said quietly, exchanging places with Harry.

Harry nodded thankfully and left the bathroom, trying to ignore the sounds still coming from inside as he escaped into the lounge, summoning a house elf and ordering some tea.

"You look as though you've had a rough night mac-mic [grandson]."

Harry nodded and wrapped a discarded throw around him, breathing in his mother's scent.

"Màthair is ill," Harry said simply. "And, well I'm not feeling that brilliant either," he finished, nodding his thanks to the house elf as it popped back into view with some tea and plain biscuits.

"Master should eats something, elves be knowing there be sickness in the castle. Master will feel better," the little elf said, bowing away quietly as Harry smiled.

"They like you." Isobel stated with a grin.

Harry shrugged, and explained about how he had helped Dobby and began talking about Sawney, before remembering that he wasn't supposed to.

"Oh no, I wasn't supposed to tell you that! Please don't tell anyone," he begged, his eyes wide with panic.

Isobel laughed gently and wished, once more, that she was still alive so she could wrap the boy up in her arms.

"Hush leanabh [baby], Minerva has told me all about it. Besides, I am a portrait, bound by the rules of our magic. I can't tell a soul, even if I should wish to," she said quietly. "Eat something Harry, like the elf told you, you will feel better for it."

Harry nodded his acceptance and began nibbling on a biscuit as they waited for Minerva to emerge from the bathroom, Harry listening with interest as Isobel began regaling him with tales of Minerva's youth.

-0-

"Oh, Albus, I swear to Merlin, I haven't felt this rotten in many years," Minerva groaned, thankful of Albus' arms around her as she sagged against his body.

"It's all right, love," he said, rubbing his hand gently over her sore stomach. "Did you eat something that didn't suit?"

"Oh," she sighed as she closed her eyes, "you wouldn't know. Last night nearly the entire school came down with something, just a vomiting bug. I'm sure it's nothing, but please don't tell Poppy, I'm already in enough trouble with her as it is."

Albus leant against the counter, pulling her tired body to his as he cradled her head against his shoulder.

"Why would you be in trouble with Poppy, my dear?" he said quietly, not really wanting to disturb her, but his interest piqued all the same.

"Oh, she says it's nothing," Minerva said around a yawn.

Albus frowned and could feel his heart rate climb as he thought of all the things that Poppy could have said to her, and about what.

"What have you been talking to Poppy about?" he asked, his voice slightly higher in pitch than he would have liked owing to the rapid thumping of his heart.

"Oh, you know, just some discomfort," she replied, closing her eyes and leaning sleepily against him.

"Discomfort? Discomfort where? Minerva, talk to me," he demanded, shifting them around so that she was leaning against the counter and he could look her squarely in the eye.

"Oh, it's nothing you have to worry about. Take me to bed?" she asked, poking her lip out in an effort to look just a little sexy despite her no doubt washed out and tired countenance.

"But Minerva, Harry is outside, and, well I really don't think that is wise," he said, shaking his head and backing away a few steps.

Minerva sighed and smiled coyly, fumbling a little with her wand before waving it over her face. A glamour charm attached itself and her hair suddenly became sleek and glossy.

"At least take a shower with me, Albus?" she said, pushing herself off the counter and into him. "We can always use a silencing spell."

Albus didn't know what to do with this Minerva who seemed to be vomiting one minute and begging him to take her to bed the next. He looked from her to the shower and back again, his brilliant mind screaming to a halt as he imagined them under the hot water together until Minerva's voice spoke clearly through those visions deep within his mind. It's just some discomfort.

Taking a deep breath Albus picked Minerva up carefully, letting her lay her head on his shoulder as he walked them into the living room.

"Albus, what are you doing?" she asked as she saw Harry watching them with some confusion.

"Um, I just remembered that I have some paperwork to do. You and Harry stay here and, um, well, I will be back later," he said, almost running out of the room like he was being chased by a puffskein.

-0-

"Are you okay, Màthair?" Harry asked, gingerly getting up and passing her a cup of tea.

She sighed, smiling at him as she patted the cushion next to her.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," she said, wrapping her arms around him and leaning back. "Just a little sore now."

"I didn't mean to make you feel ill," he said quietly, refusing to look at her as they sat under the warmth of the blanket.

"Hey, you listen here laddie, you didn't make me ill. I'm not sure if you realise this but I think nearly half the castle was ill last night, even Professor Sprout succumbed I believe," she said gently, smiling as he moved his head closer to her hand so she could run her fingers through his hair. "It's nothing but a bug leanabh [baby], just an illness. I could have caught it from anyone."

Harry said nothing, but snuggled closer into Minerva, wrapping his arms around her and sighing as she shifted once more so she could get comfortable.

"I feel terrible," he mumbled. She chuckled, kissing his forehead as she dimmed the lights, intending for them to nap for a while, considering there was no way either of them were going to class this morning.

"I do too, luaidh [darling]," she whispered.

"Màthair?"

"Hmm, what is it mo mhac [my son]?"

"I, I wrote a letter to Sirius, and I, well I was wondering whether I can maybe send it later?"

Minerva smiled even as she sighed. He was certainly his father's son, waiting for the right moment to make sure that it would be very difficult for her to say no to him. She cracked one eye open to see him looking at her with such love and trust that she couldn't help but groan as she let her head drop back to the sofa.

"All right, as long as you don't get caught, or tell anyone about it," she said, huffing as Harry squeezed her a little too tightly. "Gently darling, I'm not sure I'm completely over this yet," she grunted, easing his arms from around her just a little.

"Sorry," he said, shifting as if to get up.

"Nonsense. Just be careful, hmm?" she whispered, rubbing his back slowly.

"Um, Màthair?" he asked again, just as she was about to succumb to sleep.

"Yes, Harry?"

"I, um, thanks I guess, for last night, I," he frowned, groaning into her shoulder. "I just, thanks." he finished lamely. Minerva chuckled and tugged on his chin so that he was looking at her.

"You're my son, Harry," she said with a smile, "you don't need to thank me."

Harry's smile lit up the entire tower as he beamed at her answer.

"I love you, Màthair," he said as he finally gave into sleep. She smiled and watched him for a few moments, listening to the little noises he made in his slumber, making her love him just a little bit more.

"I just wish I knew why I can't feel you," she said quietly. "I wish I knew what was going on, and I wish I had time to go and talk with Merlin. Most of all though, I wish I knew why I am feeling so uneasy about the other schools coming next week."

"If wishes were fishes, nighneag [daughter], then the oceans would be full. Concentrate on the now, worry about the future later." Isobel said quietly, having watched the exchange from her perch above the mantelpiece. "Close your eyes, daughter of mine, let me sing you to sleep as I did when you were a wee bairn."

Sighing sadly, Minerva closed her eyes, letting her mother's soft, but beautiful voice and the quiet, steady sound of Harry's breathing lull her to sleep.