A/N: All characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Only the plot line and OC's belong to me. Sorry for the delay on the next chapter. Thanks for all the reviews on the latest chapter. I worked really hard on the newest chapter.

In Response to larissa: First of all, thank you for your interest in the story. I would have PM in response to your review, but you reviewed as a guest. Everything in this story has a specific purpose, down to the color of the Halloween dresses for Minerva and Arabella (Minerva white like a dove, and Arabella green in response to jealousy to come). However, not all of it may be evident yet. I have planned this story to stretch from Minerva like in 7th year through the end of Deathly Hallows, thus some of this stuff relates to later parts. For the teenage drama, Minerva IS seventeen and in a school of eleven to eighteen year old there will be quite a bit of drama. I wanted to make her world realistic including the fluff and teenage drama. Though it may seem "silly" to you, it builds up the character backgrounds, FOILS, and helps to show a different side of their personalities. For the Flamels and the stone, more will be revealed. I have a lot planned for that story arch and I don't want to spoil it. Thank you for your love to the portrayal of Tom; I worked really hard on his character and appreciate the feedback overall. Thanks for the interest in the story.

I hope everyone enjoy the new chapter. We're definitely in the second half of this story and building up for Part Two of the Eyes of the Tempest Series "Little Dove". As always, please, please, please review.

Early April, 1954

"You were supposed to be watching her."

Minerva rarely saw Albus this angry and the previous encounter with Scrimgeour flashed through her mind as Albus shooed everyone else from the room and the older, nurse like woman came running in after Sybil.

"I cannot watch her every minute, Albus," the old woman snapped, pushing her glasses up her nose. "She didn't mean any harm. She just doesn't like being cooped up all the time, do you Sybil?" she cooed, petting the young girl's head.

"She shouldn't be here," Sybil said blindingly, turning her head to look up at Albus with her head tilted slightly to the right. "Why is she here?"

Albus' face twitched with a annoyed frown and he opened his mouth to reply when the girl's body

"What's happening?" Minerva asked urgently, moving forward towards the child.

"Minerva get out of here," Albus snapped roughly. Minerva's eyesbrows contracted and she didn't move from her spot.

"But, is she—"

Then the girl frozen all movements and her blind blue eyes reopened, turned towards Minerva. Then her mouth parted.

"Damn it, Minerva!" Albus shouted, but the girl began to talk, transfixed on Minerva.

"Made of porcelain glass, complex raven spells; hides the jeweled rebel … The white dove mated in fire; a martyr atop her burning pyre … The flames of tickling warmth out of control both love and pain; a sign of her golden crown and reign … the solution to the black smoke infecting the nation; the only one who can shoulder the sole salvation … The one with the scarlet ribbon, the call her Duil to defend; one half of the two to become one in the end …"

There was a deep silence. Minerva could hear her heart thudding quickly in her head, her blood pressure rising. She broke eye contact with the girl to look at Albus who wouldn't meet her eyes.

Her brain didn't seem to know how to respond.

"I-I…"

There was a crash and a bang from the other room and Albus had moved in front of her with the blink of an eye. "Looks like Alfie," a voice shouted. "ALBUS! We need your help!"

"What—" Minerva caught sight of two bloody men being carried in through the fireplace. "Albus—that's Alastor's father!"

There was the sound of Flooing and fireplaces and a loud cry of pain. "Hang in there, Brutus! Almost there, buddy."

"He needs St. Mungos!" another worried voice continued.

"Minerva you need to go," Albus said, pulling at her arm concerned. In the chaos, Minerva didn't remember how she ended up being move back to the Floo and sent through to Albus' office.

*Hogwarts 1954*

Minerva was sitting on his leather couch when he returned through the Floo to his office several hours later. He groaned as he saw the determined look on her face.

"Minerva I do not have the patience or time for this right now," he said, throwing himself in the chair behind his

"It's not an option to not talk about it Albus. You cannot think that that was simply nothing. Did you not hear what that—that girl said?"

Albus pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I thought you did not believe in Divination."

Minerva glared at him and he forced back the smile at his lips at her natural response to his twerk. "I do not. But obviously you take her seriously enough to keep her hidden away from the rest of the world like that. Albus, what is going on?"

"Minerva, can this not wait until the morning?" he protested.

"You cannot keep pushing me from everything that you think might break me. I'm not made of glass! I deserve answers, Albus! This isn't just about you anymore."

Albus jerked to his feet, his blue eyes blazing. "Come here." Minerva watched him for the briefest of moments before moving towards him. With a snap of his wand, a large ornate mirror shimmered in the air.

"You want answers, there they are." He gestured to her reflection in the glass.

"I don't understand."

"You want to so desperately know about Duil," he took a ragged breath, "there she is."

Minerva watched the realization of his words dawn on her face as the mirror shimmered out of existence and she took a large step away from him.

"When were you going to tell me?" she said tonelessly.

"I don't know," he said honestly.

Minerva smirked and reseated herself on the couch. "At least you're honest about that." There was a very long pause where the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire and the occasional rustling of Fawkes' wings.

"How's Alastor's father?"

"Brutus will be fine with some time in St. Mungo's," Albus said, leaning back in his chair. "Maria is with him now and there are other Aurors on guard with him."

"Does Alastor know?"

"Armando and I will tell him and his brother in the morning."

"Good," she whispered, "he'll want to be there with him."

Minerva ran a hand over her face and sighed.

"Why must everything be such a constant mess," she cried, collapsing back on the couch. Albus rose up from the desk and sat on the edge with her.

"Tell me," he prompted her gently, watching the contours of her graceful face in the dimmed lighting.

"All of a sudden I am some savoir to be, and there is some prophecy by a child that says I am the one who's supposed to help defeat the Dark Lord, and everyone thinks I am their only hope at survival—"

"You don't have—"

Minerva didn't let him finished.

"My family is a mess—"

"Are they reconsidering splitting up?" Albus inquired a little more timidly this time.

"I don't know. They're uncertain about everything. The only thing that seem to stay the same is the fact my mother blames me for the entire affair. Would I be awful I didn't care?" she sat up, looking at his face intently. "When it happened in the beginning, I was upset, but as if goes on and on, I find myself less and less invested in the outcome."

Albus swallowed once before responding.

"You have simply found your own family, my dear," he whispered gently and she relaxed back in the leather.

"And soon we're going to have to leave Hogwarts, go off and make something of ourselves in the world and there's a war going on! No one even seems to notice."

Her eyes found Albus'.

"Do not do that!" she said reproachfully, accent thickening.

"Do what?"

"Look at me like I'm a weapon."

Albus' eyes, not twinkling now, dropped to the ground and Minerva folded her arms in response. "I'm not some chess piece to be played with. I'm not a pretty peacock child or a prodigy or a weapon to be made into a savoir. I simply want to be Minerva."

"Then just be Minerva," he whispered taking her hand and squeezing lightly.

He paused for her response and glanced back down when she didn't answer only to find her asleep. He smiled broadly, shaking his head.

He rose silently from the couch, gently bending to pick up the girl in his arm and stood to his feet.

The door to his bedroom opened on its own accord and he swiftly, but quietly carried her in. The Gryffindor theme was clearly evident even in the dark. He sat her down upon the large four poster bed. She moved slightly, but relaxed into the posh covers.

"Oh Minerva," he said shaking his head as he stood in the doorway, looking down at her sleeping form before retiring to his office. "What am I going to do with you?"