"Minerva, don't be cross with me! Albus insisted on secrecy!" Poppy held up her hands and stepped back as her friend burst into the infirmary.

"No, Poppy," Minerva shook her head quickly, "Albus told me you kept his secret under protest. I have a plan." Minerva slipped into the chair across from Poppy's desk.

"Minerva..." Poppy began in a warning tone, following her friend into the office.

"NO." Minerva's one word was enough to silence Poppy's protests." This plan does not involve my leaving the grounds of Hogwarts, or doing anything much more than sending out an owl."

Poppy eyed her suspiciously as she sat behind her desk. "You know what's at stake if you overexert yourself, so I'll only say that I am here for you, and want you to take as few risks as possible."

"Now, you know Baltair, my brother, works for Gringotts as a Curse Breaker, yes?" Minerva began. "Well, I think he would be the best way to being searching for a phoenix."

"What?!" Poppy burst out. "Thatis your plan?!" She leaned across her desk to place the back of her hand on Minerva's forehead. "I've already checked and there are no phoenixes or phoenix tears to be had at any price!"

"That's why I don't intend to buy one, Poppy!" Minerva pushed away her friend's hand impatiently.

"Well, then…" Poppy looked taken aback.

"I'm going to have Baltair find one." Minerva lowered her voice, "He may have to take Albus along at some point. I've heard it's very difficult to domesticate a phoenix, and it requires a strong bond between master and familiar." She rambled.

"How early did you pry poor Irma out of bed this morning?" Poppy sighed.

"I got to the library around 4am. And Irma has included me in the library wards by this point. I am Deputy Headmistress after all." Minerva sniffed imperiously.

"You're crazy is what you are…" Poppy sighed."Crazy for that dotty wizard of yours."

"That I am." and both women shared a chuckle.

"Do you think it will work?" Poppy hated to give Minerva grief, but her plan was a bit on the outlandish side of things.

"I remember a few Christmases ago Baltair mentioned one of his co-workers getting lost on Sinai peninsula hunting down a phoenix. They were able to find the witch, but she never did find the bird."

"Oh, Minerva…" Poppy sighed again. But Minerva's face had a pleading look, begging Poppy for affirmation.

"It's easier than the alternative." Minerva was fidgeting with the edges of her sleeves. "I can't ask someone else to hunt down vicious Dark wizards with cursed knives. And, honestly, I don't know if Albus would even use the knife if we did find it. That's exactly the kind of Dark magic he refuses to use."

"Well, don't give up on medical science just yet. Helena knows a very talented artifacts-specialist at St. Mungo's who's been looking for a case like this to try a few potential cures out." Poppy tried to sound reassuring.

"I suppose there's no harm in giving it a try?" The pregnant witch rubbed her stomach absent mindedly.

"Mind if I give you a quick check up?" Poppy was desperate to change the subject. And she knew Minerva resented coming down to the infirmary every day.

Minerva grimaced petulantly, "I suppose." She made a great show of both hauling herself out of the chair and onto the exam table in the private room Poppy opened up.

Poppy ignored Minerva's incongruent theatrics, and swiftly ran through her spells with a practiced ease. "Everything looks to be in order, dearies! Any discomfort, nausea or bleeding?" Poppy asked, taking a moment to lay down her wand and palpate Minerva's belly.

"No, " Minerva smiled as one of the boys gave a kick. Poppy giggle as his brother followed up with a small punch. She was about to help Minerva sit up, when suddenly, Minerva stopped her. "Can I… May I see their heartbeats again? Just for a moment…"

Poppy's heart melted at Minerva's timidity. This bold, daring witch was both elated and terrified at the idea of her children. "Of course, love." Poppy performed the spell, and this time, two grapefruit-sized ovals pulsed with a soft, white light. Minerva was in awe, gently running her hands over her growing sons. They shifted and moved under her touch. When the spell faded after a few moments, Minerva's face was still aglow. "Thank you!" Minerva whispered.

Poppy helped her out of the room, "You don't have to come in for a check-up tomorrow. But I want to see you in here Monday after supper." Minerva floated out of the infirmary, humming to herself "Of course, Poppy!" She intoned before she shut the door behind herself.

Poppy sighed as she returned to her office. She was relieved that with all the troublesome things Minerva was handling right now, she was still able to enjoy the more normal parts of motherhood as well. Normal was something Albus and Minerva needed a bit more of in their lives.

Poppy shook the thought away as she straightened up her office. Helena was coming over that evening, and the witch was so easily distracted by a dirty desk…

Cryda had been so helpful during the week that Minerva had very little work left that weekend. She knew Albus had to visit the Ministry for a few meetings that afternoon, but she left a note that morning, asking him to leave his evening free to spend with her.

On returning to their quarters, she found a note from her husband. Minerva smiled at the purple ink:

My Darling Wife:

I will be in your arms at six o'clock tonight, at which point, my entire night will be devoted to you. In the mean time, I took the liberty of telling the rest of the staff that you have the day off. I also procured a copy of Phaedra Leipswitch's Commentary on Potions in Transfiguration. I've left that and a cup of ginger tea next to your chair in the sitting room. Until tonight, know that I am thinking of you constantly, my love. I will see you tonight, darling.

Forever yours,

Albus

Had anyone come looking for Professor McGonagall that afternoon, they would not have found her. The blissfully smiling woman in her place did not resemble the stern, starched professor the whole of Hogwarts knew and loved. The lines of her face were soft, her raven hair tumbled in loose curls down her back. McGonagall's stiff teaching robes were replaced with a soft cotton dress in robin's egg blue. A person seeking Professor McGonagall would have instead found Minerva curled in her burgundy wing-backed chair caressing her usually-concealed belly and devouring a dusty tome. But if Albus Dumbledore had been looking for his wife at that moment, he would have found the happiest witch in the world.

During dinner at the McGonagall Manse, Cryda was hopelessly distracted. By the time poor Eoin got her attention, she could tell he had been calling her name for a fair amount of time.

"Oh! I'm sorry dearest, what did ye say?" Cryda smiled tiredly. Merlin knows she didn't mind helping Minerva during the week, but it left precious little time for her Arithmancy work. The McGonagall matron was frequently preoccupied with work on the weekends. Her normally flawless appearance had been a bit disheveled of late. Cryda's salt-and-pepper hair was typically pulled back into perfect soft twist. But the past few weekends, she had barely bothered with a hasty braid to keep her hair out of the way. And on more than one occasion, she had missed dinner completely, so engrossed was she in her work. But, luckily, Cryda McGonagall had married a patient wizard. The long-suffering Eoin grinned at his wife and repeated his question for what could have been the hundredth time.

"How is Minerva, Cryda?" Even though they dined in the gargantuan formal dining room on the weekends, instead of occupying the traditional heads of the table, the two spouses sat at one end of the table, across from each other, so that they could be closer together, and have an easier time conversing, when they were paying attention to conversation. Eoin reached across the table to pat Cryda's hand. "And don't worry, my love, I know you've been flooded with work lately. You've a right to have a wandering mind."

Cryda turned her hand over to hold her husband's, "It's a poor excuse for ignoring such a charming dinner companion." She smiled at him apologetically. "And I think it's safe to say Minerva is well. She has been getting much more rest these past few weeks, and is in much better spirits. I think… I think she's finally beginning to face the idea of motherhood full-on." Cryda returned to her salmon and peas.

"What makes you say that, love?" Eoin took a pensive sip of wine.

"Oh, little things. She and Albus are starting to talk about names for the boys. I found a book on infant development next to her chair this week. And yesterday," Cryda chuckled, "She asked for my help in putting together a list of things to get for the wee bairns. Her eyes nearly fell out of her head when I told her how many nappies she would need for two baby boys." Cryda and Eoin shared a laugh over their memories of early parenthood.

"I don't think I'll ever master any spells the way I did a wandless tergeo and evanesco. There has never been a bairn who spit up quite as much as Baltair! I don't know how the lad ever gained any weight. It always seemed as if his meals came right back up!" Eoin grinned.

Cryda sighed merrily, "There's nothing like a new baby."

"Especially if you've got two at once! Those poor bampots!" Eoin shook his head, still laughing.

"Ha!" Cryda grew silent for a moment, "Like their marriage, the two of them want to keep the children as much of a secret as possible."

"How does she plan to manage that?" Eoin frowned. "Minerva's nearly a twig normally. But by the time those boys are ready to be born, she'll have grown as big as a Hippogryph!"

"You forget, dear, our daughter is quite a powerful witch." Cryda raised an eyebrow at her husband in a way that any of Professor McGonagall's students would have recognized. "She's been using a very effective concealing charm. Witches have been hiding unwanted signs of pregnancy for centuries, Eoin." She grinned slyly.

"I suppose…" He conceded, "But it will be much harder to hide when they are both up all night with the little rascals." Eoin countered.

"Ah, that's what I've been wanting to ask you about. Kinsie came to me the other day. She said she especially enjoyed caring for Iona's grandchildren this past Christmas. She asked if it might be possible for her to help Minerva with the boys, as a sort of nanny." Cryda stopped and studied her husband's inscrutable face, "The poor elf was so abashed and nervous to be asking me. But I found her request endearing. What do you think?"

Eoin twirled his beard thoughtfully, "Well, it's not as if we have a lot of bustling activity here that demands an extra set of hands. If Minerva and Albus are amenable to it, I don't see why she couldn't!"

Cryda let go of the breath she'd been holding. "Wonderful! It will make their lives so much easier to have a discreet, trustworthy helping hand. And I've always thought our elves should have a choice as to what kind of work they do! And this way, Minerva will be able to stay in good health after the boys are born!"

With dinner finished, the two retired to the library to read quietly, side-by-side in front of the fire.

Exactly at six o'clock, Albus stepped into their sitting room. At once, his wife's arms were around him, pulling him into a prolonged, delicious kiss. His arms wrapped around her growing waist. The air was filled with the sounds of Borodin's second string quartet and the smell of sandalwood. Minerva had planned a perfect evening for the two of them.

As they broke for air, Minerva whispered breathlessly, "Hello, my love!" And when he looked into her eyes, Albus her emerald orbs mirrored the sparkle of his own. Without another word, Albus swept Minerva into his arms, and carried her to the settee. As soon as they were seated, her lips found his again. When the need for air separated them again, Albus spoke, his forehead resting against hers, "I'm the luckiest man in the world." He grinned.

"Mmmm?" Minerva questioned, her eyes closed as she continued to plant hungry kisses on her husband's cheeks.

"I get to spend the rest of my day with the most beautiful witch in the world." Albus leaned back and worshipfully caressed his wife's face before pulling her into another kiss. Over the course of the next two hours, almost nothing was said, but the witch and wizard slowly shed their clothes and delicately, reverently savored each other's bodies. Afterwards, Minerva lay with her cheek resting on Albus' chest, and Albus love the smell of her lavender soap mingled with the hint of sweat from their earlier activities. Both had a hand resting on Minerva's stomach. Albus jumped a bit and Minerva laughed when her stomach emitted a rather loud growl.

"Are you trying to tell me something, darling?" Albus was grinning now as well. He leaned down to kiss the top of Minerva's head.

"It's seems as though the boys would like some supper." She smiled as she sat up to cradle her belly. Albus loved that Minerva had finally started calling the babies "the boys". In subtle ways, he was convinced Minerva was growing excited about parenthood. "I did request a nice meal for us, dearest. Would that suit just now?" She asked hopefully.

Albus snaked his hands around her body to try to pull her closer to him, "I'll tell you what would really suit me…"

Minerva batted him away as she scooted back on the bed. "You have an outrageous appetite, Albus Dumbledore!"

"Who can blame me, with such delicious fare!" He grabbed her nearest hand and began placing sloppy, wet kisses on her wrist.

"Yes, well, some of us are eating for three." Minerva used her captive hand to caress his cheek, and then turned to get up from the bed. She wrapped a dressing gown around herself and disappeared into the loo.

Albus dressed himself in his favorite, most comfortable robe, and summoned a house elf to start serving their dinner. When Minerva came out, her hair had been brushed and pulled back into a loose braid. She slipped her dress back on and joined Albus at the table. As they tucked into their meal, Minerva with an uncharacteristic zeal, Albus finally believed the moment right to ask a question that had been bothering him for months.

"Darling, what kind of a father am I?"

"What on earth do you mean?" Minerva froze with a fork full of lamb halfway to her mouth. "The lads aren't even born yet! I suppose you've been very thoughtful and attentive to me thus far, but…"

"No, I don't mean me… myself…" Albus was struggling to find the words to convey his question properly. He was quickly losing his nerve. "I mean, in the other universes, the other Albus' you've seen, are they… are they good fathers?"

Minerva's eyes were wide with a mix of comprehension and pity, "Oh, Albus!" She set down her fork, stood up from the table and came around to embrace him. "Darling, don't worry about something silly like that! You'll make a wonderful father to our boys, I know you will!" She pulled back to read his expression.

"I… I hope I will, but... " He stood and helped Minerva retake her seat as he again searched for the proper turn of phrase, "I feel that if I don't examine and learn from my alternate selves mistakes as a father, I'm wasting a very unique opportunity."

Minerva was silent for a while, and avoided looking him in the eye. Albus grew more and more nervous. "If you…"

"Affectionate." Minerva smiled at him a very small, almost reluctant smile. But that tiny small gave Albus an overwhelming feeling of relief. She was willing to talk about this after all. "You're very, very affectionate with our children. You always seem to have a distant father, and so you always work very hard to spend time with our children, holding them, being tender with them, and listening to their hopes and dreams."

"Oh, Minerva…" Albus' heart was overflowing, but Minerva would not stop what she had begun.

"You are also a very hard-working father. Whenever you aren't busy being Minister or saving the world, you're quite good at keeping up your share of midnight nappy changes and staying up with our children when they're sick." Minerva was sporting a full grin now. "But you can be a bit controlling. You have no tolerance for our children fighting amongst themselves, even if it's a silly siblings' squabble. You are also very, very overprotective of the children. More than once, I've seen you go into a rage at a son or daughter who forgot to come home at an agreed upon time, or who wandered too far from us in a crowd. And there are one or two universes where… well… You know there are times that you're not the gentlest man."

"Oh, gods… I don't… I didn't…" Albus felt himself losing his appetite rapidly.

"No! You never hit the children, even then you treasure them and would never hurt them. But there are times when they see you hit me, and they're terrified of you, and eventually grow to hate you." Minerva wouldn't look him in the eye.

"I see…" He sighed, "Well, I wanted to know all the different perspectives of me as a father. Thank you for sharing this with me, Minerva." Albus was relieved to have heard everything, but the heavier parts of Minerva's confidence weighed on him.

"Oh, darling, I know you would never hurt me, and I know you will never, ever hurt our children." Minerva set down her utensils and grasped both of Albus' hands, and intently stared into his eyes. "There is more than one universe where you faced nearly insurmountable forces and encountered great physical pain for our children. You once fought a four-hour battle with badly mended broken leg, and a gaping wound on your shoulder, just so you could personally rescue our three-year-old daughter. And in one world, you gave your life to make sure the children and I could safely flee a band of Dark Wizards who had come to destroy us. Albus Dumbledore, you are a good man, a better wizard, and, very soon, you will be an outstanding father. I'm sure of it." Everything in Minerva's gaze was willing Albus to believe her words.

"You deserve nothing less, dearest." It was his turn to stand up and come around to kiss her.

As he returned to his seat, Minerva purred. "Now, Mr. Dumbledore, wait until you see what I've got planned for dessert!"

Albus wanted to marry her all over again right then and there.