16 August 1952

Dougal slipped his hand into Minerva's as they both strolled leisurely down a country path. "You look beautiful today, Minerva," he said. "And your hair..." he trailed away and leaned in to give Minerva a kiss on the cheek. "I don't think I've seen you wear it like this before."

Minerva felt herself blush at the compliment. "It isn't really that different from usual," she insisted lightly.

"No?"

"No," Minerva repeated, failing to hide a smile as Dougal took both of her hands into his own and stopped walking. This time he planted a kiss straight onto her lips.

"Well, it looks nice either way," he said, once they had broken apart. "Picnic?"

Minerva laughed. "I'm sorry?"

"Picnic," he repeated, lifting a small wicker basket Minerva hadn't noticed him carrying before. "I have everything packed," he added. "We can sit underneath that tree, over there." He pointed at a tree nearby. "I even brought blankets."

"Goodness, how very organised of you," Minerva said, already allowed Dougal to guide her towards the shaded spot.

They settled down on a small checked blanket Dougal had brought with him. Salad and sandwiches soon followed the rug from out the basket.

After half an hour of sitting together underneath the birch tree, the conversation slowly went from light to mildly serious. Minerva's smile wavered when Dougal finally asked her the question that she had been dreading he would ask for several weeks now.

"Have you changed your mind then?"

"About what?" Minerva stalled.

Dougal sat up and crossed his legs. "Are you going to stay in Caithness? After this summer, I mean."

Minerva's hair, which she had been attempted to tie, fell in front of her eyes, her hand now paused in mid-air. Slowly she lowered them and folded them on her lap, Dougal's breathing and the chirping of a nearby bird the only sound in the field they were sitting in.

She could feel Dougal's eyes on her and Minerva started to chew the inside of her lip, a bad habit that seemed to resurface whenever she was under stress.

The image of the ministry surfaced in her mind's eye and she suddenly felt a pang of anxiety. She had not told her parents yet of her new job, neither had she told her brothers or Dougal. Perhaps it was because she was enjoying this holiday far more than any holiday she had ever had in Caithness. The walks with Dougal, the fair and the large amounts of time she now spent with Dad, Mum and her brothers made her happier than she thought possible. And yet her job at the Ministry, now only a few weeks away, would be the start of her life as a newly qualified witch.

Minerva felt her anxiety grow. She remembered clearly when she had first received her Hogwarts letter; the owl swooping down into the kitchen the pale envelope, which held Minerva's ticket to the world she truly belonged to, held securely in its beak. She remembered the immeasurable joy she had felt that day when she realised she was leaving Caithness and going to Hogwarts. However now, sitting with Dougal in a small village in Scotland, she felt neither joy nor excitement at the prospect of having to leave. Rather she felt sad and possibly a little angry at the dual heritage she had managed to inherit from her parents. She was a witch at the same time as she was a muggle; raised by a minister as well as a fully trained witch.

Minerva felt the soft breeze catch her hair and blow it out from her eyes. Was the wizarding world more her home than the muggle world? Was she better off with her own kind or rather should she stay here where she felt safe?

"Minerva?" Dougal's hand brushed her arm tentatively and Minerva looked up, aware that she had left his question hanging.

His blue eyes bore into hers and Minerva could see the genuine concern and care in his eyes for her. She realised that no other boy had ever looked at her the same way Dougal was now and that she had never felt the same for any person throughout all her years at Hogwarts. The truth dawned on her like a demiguise removing its charm and she looked down at her fingers and then at the young farmer boy.

"Will you stay?" he asked again.

The Ministry could wait, she thought. She had time to make a proper decision and right now was not that time. Minerva smiled and shrugged. "Maybe."

He chuckled and Minerva felt her heart flutter. "I love you, Minerva," he whispered in her ear.

Minerva blushed and whispered back, "I love you too, Dougal."