Disclaimers: See chapter 1.

~x~

Holding onto the small stuffed bear that Isobel had since birth, Hermione waited, shuffling from foot to foot impatiently while Minerva stood at the front door and cast her first spell to locate their daughter. "Appare Vestigium." A golden swirl of magic whipped out of her wand and multiple golden footprints were soon visible in front of them. Opening the door, she glanced down at the wet pavement. "What do you think?"

Hermione concentrated on the smaller footprints, heading in varying directions. "Heading left would take her towards her school, the library, the crossing we use to get into the Clough and to the bus stop heading towards the city. Those heading right, head towards the local shops and the bus stop leading further out of the city towards Rochdale or Oldham."

"I'm certain, if Isobel is half as intelligent as you, and trying to get to Hogwarts, she'd see that transport from the city centre would be the best option." Minerva sighed and waved her wand at the footprints. "Finite." She nodded to the small bear in Hermione's arms. "Just to be safe, I will perform an alternate tracking charm." Turning her back to the flowing traffic, she raised her wand and swiped it quickly through the air so that it pointed directly at the teddy bear. A jet of bright red light shot from the tip and as the light faded, the small bear had been replaced by a compass. She spoke quietly. "Avenseguim." A flash of orange light erupted from her wand tip and the compass glowed for a moment before the needle spun rapidly. When it finally settled, Minerva glanced down at the instrument in Hermione's hand and noting the direction, smirked before shutting the front door, pulling the younger witch close, closing her eyes and visualizing the place she wanted to be.

With a loud crack that sounded like a whip, they appeared in a dark alley in the Northern Quarter of Manchester and Hermione quickly pulled herself out of Minerva's arms, bent over with her hands resting on her thighs, and gagged until her nausea abated. Swiping at her eyes, she groaned. "A bit of warning wouldn't have gone amiss."

Minerva wondered what it was like to apparate after so many years. The feeling itself, of being forced through a very tight rubber tube, was something she was used to and it was rare that it made her sick. "I shall endeavour to provide sufficient warning in the future." She waved her hand towards the compass that was glowing while cleaning up the cobbles. "What direction now?"

Hermione exhaled and straightened. When her stomach finally settled, she eyed the compass and frowned, turning on the spot and watching the needle closely. "I think it's pointing towards Picadilly but then it changes. I–I don't know."

Glancing around, Minerva took stock of their surroundings and started to walk. "Come along. I believe we may get a much better reading from the bus station."

"She'd have got off at Shudehill." Hermione offered, jogging a little to keep up with her long strides. "But I don't know which way she would have gone to get to Scotland. There are two train stations in the city, and both take you cross-country."

Minerva didn't say a word but continued to walk towards lamp-lightened streets. The heavy rain that afternoon had made it gloomy and thick grey still clouds hung threateningly over the city. Her eyes cast around on the off-chance Isobel was still lurking and she saw the large glass and metal construction just ahead, holding a range of single and double-decker buses in various colours. The difference, from what she remembered from years prior, back in the early '80s when most of the buses were a jarring orange and white, was astonishing.

Arriving at the station, she saw Muggles loitering and decided she needed a little space to cast further spells. "Repelo Muggletum," she whispered. She smirked as all the Muggles in the station headed off in different directions, suddenly remembering appointments held elsewhere and the waiting buses roared to life, setting off on their route to their varying destinations. Turning slowly in a wide circle she took her wand out and repeated the spell she had used outside of Hermione's home. "Appare Vestigium." The expected golden swirl whipped out of the tip and she caught sight of a set of golden footprints further into the station.

She moved towards them, knowing Hermione was following. Minerva stopped just in front of the small footprints and grasping Hermione's free hand, tugged her forwards so she stood ahead of her on top of them. "Stand here and hold the compass steady."

Minerva could feel the heat radiating off the younger witch and could smell the tantalising scents of the woman; spiced apple and cinnamon, old books and petrichor, it was the smells she'd first experienced when examining a vial of Amortentia many years before and it made Hermione impossible to resist once she'd come to realise it made up the younger witches scent.

What she didn't know was that Hermione was also affected by her nearness and the smell of freshly mown grass, new parchment, spearmint toothpaste and gingerbread. The curly-haired witch sighed, leaning into Minerva's warmth slightly. "Can't we just follow her through her footsteps?" She asked quietly.

"No, she may have backtracked or moved on and we'd be wasting time," Minerva explained. "Now, hold the compass close to your stomach, about halfway between your face and waist with your elbow bent. Make sure your arm is comfortable since you need to keep it steady. Once you have it situated, make sure the baseplate is level and the direction of the travel arrow is pointing straight away from you." She instructed. Hermione did as she was told and she steadied her trembling hands. "Now look down at the compass and see where the needle points. Turn your body while keeping the compass in front of you. Do you see that as the compass rotates, the needle stays pointing in the same direction? Because of the magic imbued in the spell, that is the direction we must go."

"Victoria Station," Hermione noted. "If it was Picadilly, then it would be pointing southeast and not northwest."

"Ten Points to Gryffindor," Minerva smirked and Hermione let out a surprised bark of laughter. "Are you happy to side-along or would you prefer to walk."

"I think we should walk," Hermione suggested. "There's still a few Muggles about and it will only take a few minutes."

Minerva considered the options. "If I remember correctly, there's an old underground approach, with steps leading up to the front of the station. It was always fairly secluded."

"Ah, I think it's still there." She mused. "Okay then, I suppose l can side-along," Hermione stated. "Although I'll admit, I'm not looking forward to it."

"Come along." She silently reversed the charms she'd cast and led Hermione into the nearest ladies' room. "Now close your eyes and take a deep breath." Minerva urged, pulling Hermione into her arms and visualizing the entrance to the underground tunnels of the Victorian-built station. With another crack, they appeared in another dark, cobblestones area. Just ahead was a flight of stone stairs leading up to the street. Minerva led the way until they were outside the large Italianate-style building with the ironwork canopy naming various destinations. She glanced up at the large clock at the front of the building, noting that it was just after 6 pm. She sincerely hoped they could catch the small witch in time, the thought of her child travelling alone, as the evening settled into night, was terrifying.

What if something happened to her? The world was full of weirdos who may set their sights on her child. Merlin forbid that anyone touched a single curly hair on Isobel's head. Despite not knowing her daughter at all, she'd curse anyone within an inch of their life if they harmed her.

Stuck in her thoughts, she initially failed to notice Hermione moving quickly into the station, but when her brain finally caught up, she marched after her easily and found her facing a heavy-set woman at the information booth. "I just need to know if this child bought a ticket, and where to." She pointed at the small Muggle photo of Isobel she'd pulled from her purse.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't give you those details." The woman sounded bored.

"She's barely 11 years old," Hermione yelled, losing her temper quickly. "And she used my credit card to pay for whatever ticket she bought."

"This is getting us nowhere," Minerva stated softly. A hazy wisp of blue light emitted from her wand, hidden from view up her sleeve. "Vobis Verum." She glared at the woman behind the counter, her lips pursed. "We would like to know if our daughter purchased a train ticket and if so, what the particulars of the journey are."

The woman looked at her in confusion, her eyes glazed over, and licked her plump lips. "She asked for a ticket to—well, it's someplace I've never heard of. Hogwash or Warthog. Somethin' like that." She shrugged. "She ended up buying a ticket to Glasgow and said she'd work it out from there. The journey goes via Wigan North Western."

"What time?" Hermione demanded.

"The train left platform five at five-to and will arrive at Wigan just after 6:30. There's a small wait for the Glasgow train, it leaves platform five at 7:01." The woman offered the information up dully, her eyes flicking occasionally to the monitor angled in front of her. "The train is due to arrive at Glasgow Central at 9:45."

"Finite," Minerva muttered, reversing the spell with a quick flick of her hand. She glanced at the women behind the wooden partition. "Thank you for your help. I do believe we're done here, lass." She pulled the photograph back off the counter and slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans.

~x~

Minerva was startled by the deviation of her day. Usually, when visiting the parents of Muggle-born witches and wizards, the day went smoothly and ended with afternoon tea at Rosa Lee Teabag in Diagon Alley and then her return to the Manse or Hogwarts. Today, having met Isobel, then Hermione's surprise appearance, and learning she was a màthair, she desperately wanted to return home, to the comfort of her sitting room and her Dragon Barrel Brandy.

Minerva had fought in two wars, often staring death in the face, and yet she was more terrified now than she'd ever been before. For the first time in her life, she wanted to run and hide rather than face whatever would happen next. Admittedly, it was true she wanted answers, but she was scared of what she would find out and, if at the end of the telling, Hermione told her to leave again, she would, but she knew wouldn't easily recover from the dismissal. There was a huge part of her that couldn't fathom only having this day and then going back and trying to get on with her life without knowing Hermione, as she was now, or forming a relationship with their daughter.

"Can you get us to Wigan or Glasgow?" Hermione asked, breaking her thoughts as they strode from the train station side by side.

Minerva's lips twitched. "Aye, lass."

Hermione huffed. "Okay, I know you can. Will you?"

"Since I do not particularly like the idea of Isobel travelling alone, I will." Minerva stopped and held her wand out. With a large crack, the recognisable triple-decker purple bus appeared.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve—oh, 'ello Headmistress." Stan exclaimed.

"Hello, Stan, it's good to see you." Minerva smiled. "I'm afraid my companion and I need to get to Wigan North Western train station as a matter of urgency and I can't apparate since I am unfamiliar with the destination having never been there," Minerva explained crisply.

"That'll be eleven sickles, each," Stan stated, scratching his jaw. "We'll make it the next stop for ya. Hey Ern, the Headmistress first, right mate?"

Upon hearing the grumbled agreement from the driver, she stepped aboard, grabbing Hermione and dragging her along behind her as she rummaged in her pocket for her coin bag and handed over a single gold galleon and 5 silver sickles. "Thank you, Stan."

"Hey, Headmistress, isn't that—?" Stan started.

Minerva pushed Hermione ahead and turned back to the man. "Please, don't say it out loud. We don't wish to make a fuss and delay the bus." She offered him a small smile when he gestured to zip his mouth shut and followed the brunette to two armchairs. "He's not particularly bright, but his heart's in the right place." She settled beside Hermione and sat slightly sidewards in the chair, one leg under the one resting solidly on the floor. "He'll shout out when we arrive."

"Why didn't you just tell him I am who he thinks?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I assume you don't want the Prophet sniffing around upon hearing the brain of the Golden Trio is alive and well?" Minerva queried.

"Well, no, not particularly, but—" Hermione started.

"And I am certain you do not wish for Isobel to be dragged through the press, and her parentage made known?" Minerva questioned, interrupting her.

"—I'm not ashamed of the life I have lived." Hermione continued. "I've worked hard, to support and raise my child. She knows right from wrong and is a mature and well-rounded little girl. She's also on top of her classes at school."

"And having you tell her the accidental magic is normal when she believes otherwise, is not an issue?" Minerva queried.

"I did what I thought was best." Hermione was defensive. "I couldn't just tell her the truth. And the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad have only been to the school twice, once after she turned one of the girls in her class into a donkey and another time after shattering the large glass windows in her classroom. In eleven years, she's only really lost control twice, both times in extreme circumstances, mainly due to being picked on by the other children in her class." She explained. "There are moments she also displays her magic while we're alone. One day, she somehow managed to jump onto the top branch of a Manchester Poplar after running away from a pair of badly behaved geese when we walked along the banks of the canal in Castlefield. Someone called the Fire Brigade to get her down." She laughed a little at the memory. "She often makes things move without touching them, and the bear you turned into the compass, somehow followed us home from the gift shop at the hospital where she was born. I found it in her pram when I went to lift her out."

Minerva sat back and contemplated Hermione's words. "Can you seriously tell me you believe she's better off in the Muggle world? Do you want her to fear and suppress her magic so much she loses control and potentially hurts herself or others? You surely know of the dangers, if not personally, then certainly from reading. By suppressing her magic through the belief it's wrong, even if it's simply in her mind, she could become an Obscurial."

Hermione sighed. "No, I don't want that, but I also don't want her to put the wizarding world above everything else, only for it to be torn away from her. As a half-blood, I know she will be treated better than I was, but I still fear for her."

"Why?" Minerva asked gently, just as the bus jolted to a halt and the chairs skidded forward. She fell but was fortunately caught up in Hermione's strong arms, as they wrapped themselves securely around her.

"You okay, love?" Hermione whispered.

"Aye," Minerva husked, surprised by the term of endearment. Standing, she pulled away from the embrace, a slight blush colouring her cheeks. "Aye, I'm fine, lass."

"Wigan North Western," Stan shouted from his seat at the front of the bus. "Headmistress, this is you. Next stop, Ilkley Moor."

"Come, it's time to get Isobel." Minerva held her hand out and without any hesitation, Hermione grabbed it and entwined their fingers as she led them off the bus, offering small nods to Stan and Ernie as they alighted. With a loud crack, the bus vanished behind them.

~x~

They strode, hands still entwined into the train station and looking around she saw the ticket office to the left of the entrance and the wide doors leading into a corridor. At the end of the corridor, there were steps leading up to Platform 1-4, while to the right was the subway that would lead them further into the station and their destination at the far side of the building.

Feeling Hermione tugging on her hand, she stepped to the right and let the younger witch lead the way. They had 15 minutes until the train for Glasgow left, and they didn't want to miss Isobel. Minerva could feel her hand growing sweaty and her stomach churned with nerves, knowing that the excursion may soon be over and she'd no doubt have to say her goodbyes. Her hand involuntarily squeezed Hermione's.

"Do you still have access to Dumbledore's Pensieve?" Hermione asked, squeezing her hand in return.

Thrown by the question, Minerva turned her head to look at the woman. "Aye, it belonged to the school rather than to Albus. If not, it would have been interred with him, along with his wand. I also have a Pensieve at the Manse. I find, like Albus, it comes in useful to examine and sort my thoughts, especially when I am away from Hogwarts and struggling to let things go."

"I was wondering if you would go through my memories of the time just after I left Hogwarts?" Hermione whispered as they hit the stairs ascending to the platform above.

"Would that be easier for you?" Minerva asked.

"I—I think so, yes." Hermione stuttered. "Things happened, and I don't know how to talk about them, but you deserve to know."

Nodding once, Minerva spoke. "Then we can either go on to Hogwarts or the Manse." She sighed. "I would still like you to consider allowing Isobel to attend Hogwarts. I swear to you, lass, that I'd allow no harm to come to her. I'll happily claim her as my own and she'll want for nothing." She was desperate. "I'd also like, very much, if you could see yourself being a part of my life again. We could start again, become friends and—"

"Minerva, I would—" Hermione faltered, biting her lip nervously. "—will you give me time to think about it?" She asked.

Minerva nodded feeling a little disappointed. "Aye, I suppose so." She tilted her head towards the small girl sitting hunched on the bench halfway down the platform. "There's our wee wayward bairn. I suppose a few more grey hairs are bound to appear now I'm a màthair?"

"You seriously haven't a clue." Hermione grinned and moved forward quickly until she reached the little girl. Kneeling in front of Isobel, she lifted the girl's face and suddenly pulled her forward into a fierce hug. "Oh, baby. You gave me such a fright."

Minerva slowly made their way towards the pair and stood over them protectively as the announcement for the train blared above them.

"The next train to arrive at platform 5, will be the 7:01 Avanti West Coast service to Glasgow Central. Calling at Preston, Lancaster, Oxenholme, Penrith, Carlisle, Lockerbie, Motherwell and Glasgow. This train is formed of 6 carriages. The next train to arrive at Platform 5 is the 7:01 Avanti West Coast service to Glasgow."

No move was made by either Isobel or Hermione when the train whooshed to a stop at the platform, depositing passengers while others jumped on board quickly and made their way to their seats. They continued to hold each other tightly and whisper into each other's ears as the train chugged forward slowly, departing from the platform.

Minerva rocked on her heels slightly, her eyes closed, simply waiting for some acknowledgement from the young women kneeling at her feet. She didn't want to disturb them or interrupt their reunion, but she was ready to go home and relax. Hearing a slight rustle and feeling thin arms wrap tightly around her waist, she felt magic surrounding her. Her eyes blazed open and she looked down into Isobel's clear hazel eyes. Her hand rose and her fingers ran through the fine, auburn hair. "Hello again, wee yin." She smiled softly down at the little girl. "It seems you've had quite the adventure this evening."

"I wanted to see you and your school." Isobel grinned up at her cheekily. Her smile was reminiscent of those Hermione used to give her and the sight of it made her heart soar. "Mam says it's your choice if we go home or with you," she stated, her eyes flashing with hope.

"Well, mo nighean, your seanmhair is expecting me home tonight, so how about we go back to your house, where you and your mum can pack some things and then we'll head there." Minerva offered.

"What's mo neen mean? And that other word, shenafur?" Isobel asked, trying her best with the pronunciation, but not quite managing it.

"Both are Gaelic words, wee yin. Mo nighean can mean my girl or my daughter. As a standalone, nighean means lass or young woman. Seanmhair means grandmother." Minerva explained. She glanced up and noticed Hermione watching them interact with a smile on her face.

"I have a grandma?" Isobel exclaimed, pulling back and jumping up and down in excitement. "My other gran lives in Australia but I've never met her." Suddenly, her face fell and she lowered her eyes as her lip quivered. "Oh, but what should I call you?"

Crouching down to Isobel's level, Minerva cupped her cheek and caught her eyes. "We have aeons to work that out, mo nighean. But at the end of the day, it depends on what you are comfortable with. If you want, you can call me màthair, mamaidh or simply Minerva." She shrugged even as she smiled down at the young girl. "Or as I told you earlier, you may call me Professor or Headmistress." She stood and wrapped her arm around Isobel's shoulder, urging her towards Hermione. "Now, how about we head back to Manchester on the Knight Bus?"

~x~

With Isobel curled around her, her thin arms and legs encircling her neck and waist and head resting on her shoulder, Minerva bore the weight effortlessly, having cast a silent feather-light charm. Moving slowly through the dark woodland towards the farmhouse she'd Flooed into earlier that day, her wand tip shone from Hermione's shaking hand as she kept pace beside her.

The decision had been made to use the Ministry-provided Floo rather than apparating and potentially hurting herself, Hermione or Isobel since It was a well-known fact that side-along apparition with more than two people offered up a higher risk of splinching, plus she did not want the new experience making their daughter sick.

Glancing down at the child in her arms, she noticed Isobel had started to doze so turning her face towards the woman walking beside her, spoke quietly. "When we enter the farmhouse, I must warn you there's a Boggart," Minerva advised.

"Well, that explains the name." Hermione breathed. "I once read that the woodland around here is ancient, going back to the Bronze Age, if not before." She smiled. "I used to tell Izzy the story of the Green Boggart of Boggart Hole Clough. Though the Boggart in the tale sounded nothing like a real one."

"No, I can't imagine such a story, offering Muggle children a true portrayal, would be allowed due to the Statute of Secrecy." Minerva licked her lips, trying to find the right way to ask the next question. "Will you be okay casting the Riddikulus? My wand shouldn't have developed full allegiance to you, despite you disarming me, but it should certainly channel your magic."

"I think so. Lumos worked." Hermione stated hesitantly.

"Mm, true. Now, if I remember correctly, your old wand, like mine, also held a dragon heartstring core, but it was made of vine wood, wasn't it?" Minerva questioned. At Hermione's quick nod, she continued. "Vine wands are rather uncommon but from what I have read, they usually choose a witch or wizard who seeks a greater purpose and who has a vision beyond the ordinary." She smirked. "Did the wand seek you out as soon as you entered Ollivanders?"

"Yes. How did you—?" Hermione started to ask.

"Vine is a sensitive wood, especially when it detects its match. It is never more true than with vine, that the wand, chooses the wizard or witch, more often by emitting magic without even being touched. It chooses those with hidden depths." Minerva clarified. "A dragon heartstring core is said to produce the most power, it learns quickly and always bonds strongly with its owner." She glanced at the brunette. "It was a good match for you and it's a shame you no longer have it."

"When Dobby arrived at Malfoy Manor, as you know, I'd been isolated from Harry and—" She swallowed thickly. "—my wand and bag had been taken by the Snatchers. After that crazy bitch tortured me with the Cruciatus Curse and then carved my arm, I honestly thought all hope was lost but then she was disarmed and Harry caught her wand, and while they duelled Narcissa and Draco, Bellatrix dragged me to my feet and she held her knife to my throat. All the wands were dropped only to be scooped up by Draco. I thought I was about to have my throat slit, but then Dobby sent a chandelier crashing to the floor and it knocked her onto her backside. The distraction let Harry wrestle Draco's wand and the ones they'd dropped, and Dobby disarmed Narcissa while Bellatrix screamed at him. He threw Narcissa's wand across the room before grabbing onto us and disapparating." Hermione sighed. "I got my things back from Draco shortly after the final battle but then—well, you'll find out why I no longer have it when you look at my memories."

Arriving at the old, rundown farmhouse, Minerva followed Hermione into the dark hallway and gestured to the door on the right with a tilt of her head. "Through to the right there."

Before they could move, the Boggart burst out of the cupboard, the door, banging against the wall. It had quickly taken the shape, not of Bellatrix Lestrange as Minerva had anticipated, but a familiar tall, redheaded young man she'd known many years before.

The Boggart Ron staked forward menacingly, stopping and towering over Hermione who cowered back in fear. "You filthy Mudblood whore. Do you honestly think Minerva McGonagall could love you? You're pathetic! You're nothing! A magic thief! Worthless filth! Bellatrix was right!"

"R—Riddikulus." Hermione whimpered.

"Use the force of your mind to imagine something you either find funny or non-threatening." Minerva urged quietly, knowing the spell wouldn't work unless she focussed.

"Look at you. As if you could be a worthwhile mate for her even with that mark on your neck." Boggart Ron yelled at her, spittle flying from its mouth with the force of the words. "I'll have you on your knees begging me to take you." His face grew redder as his anger became obvious. "The proud Mudblood bitch, eager to please me in any way I see fit."

"Concentrate, lass. It is playing upon your deepest fear, but it is not real." Minerva reminded her.

"Riddikulus!" Hermione yelled. With a crack, the looming figure of Boggart Ron staggered back and then transformed into a bright red balloon that moved in graceful circles, the noise of the escaping air whistling through the hall, then right at the end it shot quickly into the air before landing back in the cupboard. The door slammed shut behind it.

The loud noise had Isobel stirring in her arms, and Minerva shifted her, pressing a soft kiss to her head and offering up some comforting shushing noises. She watched as Hermione took deep calming breaths. "It wasn't real." She stated, catching the younger woman's attention.

Hermione turned to face her but kept her eyes lowered, refusing to meet her gaze. "Maybe not this time."

~x~

Note: Vobis Verum isn't a spell JKR created as part of this world, after all, they have Veritiserum. I needed something though, so pulled it from Latin since this is the language charms/spells seem to come from. It means the truth for you (or something along those lines).