"Xiomara, go and enjoy your dinner now. I must attend to my Headmaster duties," he said, the familiar twinkle in his eyes.

He turned to Minerva as Madam Hooch left.

"Minerva, if I may so kindly ask you," he began.

"Just spit it already," she said.

"May I request a sample of your blood?"

Her expression was only to curious. "What for?"

He sighed. "I vow to explain in due course, but I think it will help with finding her."

It was that which won her over.

She conjured a tiny flask and pricked herself, before handing the vial over to him.

"Do what you must," she said. And with that, she turned on her heel and returned to the staff room, leaving Dumbledore staring at her disappearing cascading black hair.

They had spent 3 years as just friends, but lately, friends had been too careless of a word to describe what they had become. Every day, when she paid him visits, she not him not just as an employer, but someone who she could finally lean her shoulder on and close her eyes peacefully. In other words, what she felt for him was remotely inappropriate for a professional relationship.

But what she did not know was that he felt the same thing, except his feelings had lasted from the time she was in school. And she was oblivious to all of that…oblivious to the fact that she was now considered one of the most beautiful witches in the community, and that she was of marriageable age. Those two factors seemed to bury themselves into the minds of all the wizard bachelors in the community, which many spent their free time ogling at her. However, the only thing she minded was her the quality of her work.

But late that night of Thanksgiving her second year teaching, something only too magical happened. They had been practicing dueling, which was only too hard considering that they had been stuffed with food.

"Impedimenta!"

He had wordlessly blocked the spell, and cast a Jelly-legs Jinx at her.

She had responded only too slowly, thanks the drowsy effects of the food; she did not completely catch the curse, but tripped and was experiencing the sensation of falling, which she had not gotten in years –

And Dumbledore had caught her in his arms. His eyes had a mischievous twinkle that was only to familiar.

"My, my, it seems like Professor McGongall has tripped! What a shocker!"

"Shut up," muttered Minerva, but her playfulness was evident in her voice.

He chuckled, before their gazes met, and she felt something that she never felt before. What was that feeling? Ah, right….was it love?

"Minerva," he whispered after a moment. "You're…beautiful," he said, brushing away a strand of hair (she had let down her hair for the festivities).

She blushed, and tried to break the gaze. But Dumbledore had planted a finger under her chin, and gently, she had gazed into his brilliant, electrically calming blue eyes again. She could not help but be hypnotized.

"Albus…" she murmured. Did she just call him by his first name? "What am I feeling for you?"

He had looked mildly surprised, but then she was trapped in his gaze once more. "I don't know, Minerva…but I do know is that…I love you."

And he had said those words, which she had been crossing her fingers to hear. "I think I feel likewise," she whispered, as she had leaned up and planted her lips to his –

And it was magic, like that sensation she had first got when she had transfigured something. Pure happiness.

"What was that?" she said, when they had broken apart.

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling brighter than ever. "That, I believe, is what I've been trying to say since you were a fifth or sixth year," he admitted grudgingly.

"Really?" The greatest wizard of the twentieth century, and…her?

"Really, my dear." And they had headed together back to the staffing quarters, both blissfully happy in a way one experiences only once in a lifetime.

And that Christmas, instead of any Christmas present, Albus had given her a ring, which had meant pretty much everything….

He journeyed to the hospital wing, finding Madam Pomfrey poking the girl's ribs with her wand. She jumped at his entrance.

"Headmaster! How nice!"

He smiled pleasantly. "How is she, Poppy?"

"Not bad, considering it was on the Quidditch pitch" – she emphasized the word, displaying her disapproval – "but she will be alright tomorrow morning."

He smiled again. "Good to hear," he said. "It's so bad that there are already injuries so early in the year."

"Well, that's the reason I'm here!" said Poppy, smiling.

He returned the smile. "Poppy, if I may ask you, can you determine the relationship between her blood and these two vials?"

He held up two vials – one of them Minerva's, one of them which he had conjured en route to the hospital wing.

"Of course, headmaster, but what for?" Poppy was surprised, and it showed.

"It will help me determine who she is," he said simply. Everyone had heard about the orphan prodigy, but no one knew anything about her parentage.

"Of course," said Poppy again. "If you will wait here a moment."
"Certainly."

He waited patiently as Madam Pomfrey hurried to her office, and heard the whirs and tinkers of the various medical instruments he had no idea how to operate. He watched Aurora sleeping, her long black her flowing down her back the same way Minerva's did. He watched her breathe, and observed her face, and Minerva's face had jumped to his mind –

"Done, headmaster," rang Madam Pomfrey's voice.

"And what are the results?"

"It's a parent-child relationship." She said, but then she paused. "do you know her parents?"

"In a sense," said Dumbledore after a moment. "I do."

He had nodded at her, said a sincere "Thank you, Poppy," and left the ward.

He walked slowly to his office, with no desire to return to the staff room.

He was not surprised, but in a sense, this felt so unexpected. He had not had a bond like this in so long…and yet here she was…his child…his daughter. The words felt so foreign to his mind.

Later that night, when he was sure she had gone to bed, he had sent a Patronus to her chambers.

"Come to my office," it said. Minerva was already in her dressing gown when she received it. Wordlessly, she slipped on an indoor cloak and slipped through the corridors, past the gargoyle, and into the familiar rotunda of his office.

Before she could say anything, Dumbledore said, "I found her."

She was silent for an entire 5 seconds before saying, "How?"

His voice quivered with excitement. "I used the blood sample I obtained from you today as well as a sample of my own. I asked Poppy to confirm it, and she said it was a parent-child relationship."

"Does she know who we are, though?"

"No, I did not specify."

"And…well, how did you know it was her in the first place?"

"When I first saw her…I was shocked at the resemblance between you two. She's as beautiful as you are, Minerva," he said, watching the blush creep on her face. "And she has your intelligence. You know, and you've heard other teachers rave about her as well," he continued, watching the blush grow.

She shook her head. "I can't believe it…it's her, Albus…it's her…our daughter," she whispered.

His heart soared at the renewed use of his first name. He stood up and walked to her, putting his arms around her.

"I know," he said softly. She looked up at him, and for the first time in 8 years, he could see true happiness. "But we have one final challenge."

She looked at him inquisitively. "We need her to accept us."

She sighed heavily, and at once, he could see the pressure and sadness that had weighed her down. "Yes, I suppose that will be difficult."