A/N: I appreciate all of your messages. And, if you want a soundtrack to this chapter, I listened to "Missing the Miracle" by Alanis Morissette on a loop while writing this.

For the disclaimer, please see the prologue.

Chapter Thirty-Four: June 1946

Minerva straightened her convocation robes, pulling the collar into place around her neck. She thought she would be more excited to finally graduate from her mastery program; instead, her mind was bogged down by the fact that the rest of her life had crumbled around her.

Shortly after her disastrous Valentine's Day fight with Albus, Minerva's father had unexpectedly passed away. The official cause of death was a heart attack, but Minerva and Callum both thought it was a fatal combination of life-long stress, anger, and alcohol consumption. Consequently, both siblings were travelling back to Inverness far more often than either had the time to do in order to help take care of Isobel. Their differences of opinion in how to care for their mother was a source of tension between Minerva and Callum; however, of far more import to her was the strain her extra time demands were placing on her relationship with Albus.

Albus had not said anything to her: he was far too genteel, and she knew he understood her desire to be with her mother. At the end of the day, however, what went unsaid became felt as their bond continuously rolled with his displeasure and brewing unease. To some extent, Minerva understood. They were both extremely busy people, and they had to create a miracle in order to spend the shortest of time together even before her father's death. The new, extra demands on her time didn't help their situation.

To make matters worse, Minerva and Callum had been quarrelling more and more. They couldn't seem to agree on the best way to care for their mother. Callum insisted that she should be reintroduced to the wizarding world—and quickly—so that she could grow back into her former self. Minerva argued for a more careful approach, wanting her mother to feel comfortable on her own again before turning her world upside down. This familial stress had compounded with the demands of finishing her mastery and so it was with great relief, rather than genuine happiness, that she prepared for her convocation ceremony.

"I wish your robes were a bit less...frumpy," Lucy sighed, bringing Minerva out of her reverie. "Do you think Professor Shacklebolt would get mad if I spruced these up a bit?"

"Professor Shacklebolt? No. Pythias College? Most likely, and I do not have any desire to fight with the administrative staff today."

"What about a belt?" Lucy asked, looking through Minerva's rather empty closet. "I wish you'd go shopping with me more often."

"And I wish you'd sit down." Minerva nodded in the direction of Lucy's stomach, which had recently started to swell. "Callum would kill me if he knew we went shopping last weekend. Seeing as he wants me dead more often than not lately, I'd rather you took it easy."

"I'm looking through your closet, Min, not riding a hippogriff," Lucy argued, sitting down all the same. "Besides, I'm only four months pregnant. You both are being over-protective."

"Can you blame us?" Minerva retorted, her tone a bit sharper than she would have liked. "We just want to keep you safe."

"Oh, Min, come here." Lucy gently pressed her hands to Minerva's cheeks. "We are safe. Thanks to you and Callum, we're fine. I know we won't always be fine," she laughed, "but we're all home and happy."

"We're not all happy," Minerva muttered.

"Ah," Lucy sighed. "I thought you were struggling." At Minerva's look of betrayal, she added, "Min, I'm a mother now. I know a pouty girl when I see one."

"I'm not pouting...all right, perhaps a bit," Minerva relented, sitting beside her. "I feel like life has done its level best to age me in the last few months, so I think it's fair that my overall demeanour has changed."

"Of course it's fair." Lucy poked Minerva's ribs, laughing softly. "You've had a rough go of it as of late, between your father's death, taking care of your mother, fighting with Callum, and your problems with Albus. That doesn't even take into account what happened during the war. You're pulled in so many directions it makes my head spin."

"What do you mean, my problems with Albus?" Minerva asked defensively. "I wasn't aware that we had problems."

Lucy rose an eyebrow. "I think you are. Did you even tell him about the job offer?"

"No, I haven't." Minerva picked an invisible thread off of her robes. "I don't know how to tell him without inciting another argument."

"Min, you have to tell him at some point."

"I know, but this is another wrench in his master plan for us!" Minerva cried. "Albus was so excited when he told me that he was able to find a job for me working in the village. His brother has a room I can rent and while it's not ideal, I could spend more time at the castle. Besides," she added, "it is a shorter distance to Ma's house from Hogwarts than from London."

"That is all very true. However, while I hate to burst your bubble, I feel the need to inform you that you would not be happy working behind the counter at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop."

"Lucy, it would only be temporary until a job opened up at the school."

"Min, please!" Lucy begged, gripping Minerva's hands tightly. "You have been offered a full-time job with the Auror research division! That's much more up your alley than selling quills and stationery to kids hopped up on sugar. Albus will understand. He of all people should understand your thirst for scholarship; after all, he helped cultivate it!"

"It's complicated," Minerva sighed. "Objectively, he would understand that it's a fantastic opportunity for me. Personally, he would not be happy to have me down in London for another year."

"What's another year of long-distance?"

"Like I said, Lucy, it's complicated." She withdrew one of her hands from Lucy's and rubbed at her forehead, not wanting to tread too carefully to the complications of being soul-bonded in a long-distance relationship. Minerva hadn't mentioned it to Albus, but feeling his emotions and being unable to offer in-person support bothered her to no end. "All this job offer does is add a twist to the tale, and our tale has been far too twisted as of late."

"You both have seemed very...off since Valentine's Day," Lucy said hesitantly. "Obviously, Callum and I know a little bit, but I don't remember hearing that you two ever resolved the issue."

"That would be because we didn't," Minerva scoffed. "He apologized and sent a gift, I thanked him for it, and we've been on eggshells ever since. Most of our conversations since have either been quarrels or superficial in nature."

"Min, you're not going to fix anything if you don't talk about it."

"Don't you think I know that?" Minerva exclaimed, jumping off the bed so she could pace. "I just...I can't lose him, Lucy, I can't. I love him too much to lose him. If I need to spend a year hocking quills to pubescent students to keep him, I will do that."

"Remember when I told you that you can't lose yourself in him?" Lucy's voice was so maternal it made Minerva's heart ache. "You're not the type of woman that is content to limit yourself for the sake of someone else; at least, not at this stage in your life. You have people to see and things to do and records to break and knowledge to discover. If Albus can't see that, then..."

"Then what?" Minerva's voice broke. She turned away from Lucy as she felt the tears threaten to fall. "Lucy, then what?"

"Then perhaps it's time to let him go," Lucy answered gently. "I'm not saying that your story needs to end forever, but maybe you need some time apart."

"And what about becoming a professor? That's still a dream of mine, and I can't live with him in the castle if this relationship crumbles around us!"

"Woah, Min. You're getting ahead of yourself. Take it one step at a time. If you decide you want to stay in London, and if that is a dealbreaker for Albus, and if you find yourself still wanting to teach at some point in the future, then you both will handle it like the mature adults you are." Lucy stood up and forced Minerva into a hug. "Whatever comes, you will handle it with grace and courage. I know you. And," she poked Minerva's ribs, "I also know that it's still your convocation day. So I say we get you cleaned up and then we head to the ceremony so you can finally get your mastery, all right?"

"All right," Minerva exhaled. She whirled her wand in front of her face, reducing the redness and erasing the tears with practised ease. "Shall we go meet the men?"

"Yes." Lucy looped their arms together as they prepared to leave Minerva's apartment. "We shall meet them, along with whatever comes."

"Congratulations again, Minnie!" Callum grinned, looping his arm around his sister's shoulders. "It's not every day that my younger sister gets her mastery!"

"We're very proud of you," Lucy added. "You're the first one in either of our families to finish such a program."

"First one to finish, but not the first to start?" Albus inquired, his brow quirked. "Dare I ask what happened?"

"Oh, some pregnancies that required some hasty marriages on one side, a short stint in Azkaban on the other," Lucy responded cheerily. "Our Min is too smart for that!"

"Quite," Minerva commented drily. "I'm not one to shelve my schooling in favour of a weekend crime spree."

"You know, Minnie, when you say things like that, I question how we could ever be related," Callum teased. "Thank goodness my prankster streak comes out in you every once in a while."

"Does it now?" Albus laughed.

"Oh, you bet! Aidan told me about this one time in their fifth year where they charmed everyone's house scarves to change—"

"Callum!" Minerva barked. "There's no need to reveal all of my secrets, is there? This is my day, if you recall."

"Wait, you and Aidan were behind the charmed house attire? That took us professors hours to put right, and caused more than a few fights!" Albus looked at her with a gaze that was half-disbelief, half-admiration. "I can't believe it!"

"I do have some secrets, dearest." Minerva patted his arm affectionately. "Besides, I'm sure you weren't perfectly behaved when you were a student."

Albus blushed. "No, I can't claim that I was."

"And that just proves my argument that the smartest students are the ones that have a little bit of fun! See, Lucy?" Callum nudged his wife's arm.

"Just you wait until Iolanthe and this little one go to school. Then you might change your mind." Lucy laughed as Callum's eyes widened comically. "I'm sure you'll be none too happy if we get letters from the school about how misbehaved our children are."

"Well, if they're anything like me, they won't get caught," Callum answered wryly. "But you're right, I reckon I better prepare my Howler voice in preparation. I'm so glad we gave you that cloak, Minnie, or we'd really be in for it."

"Cloak?" Albus' eyebrows hiked up his forehead. "What kind of cloak?"

"I'll tell you after," Minerva murmured. "It's not a good idea to discuss it in such a public place." He rose an eyebrow at her and she shook her head slightly, not willing to discuss it in front of her brother and sister-in-law.

Lucy, sensing the brewing tension, sought to change the subject. "Callum, don't you think it's time we rescue Isobel? Iolanthe has probably tired her out by now."

"Perhaps; even better, we can get you off of your feet. What would you say to a nice bath?" Callum asked.

"I would argue that I am not nearly as fragile as you make me out to be, but I am not one to argue with an excuse for a long soak," Lucy chuckled.

Minerva smiled. "Thank you both for coming. I know you're obviously both busy, and I know that we have some issues to work through, Cal, but I'm really thankful you came."

Callum swept her into a hug and spun her around, kissing the top of her head. "I wouldn't miss this for the world, Minnie. No matter our temporary situation, I'm always your big brother, and I'm always proud of you. Nothing could ever change that." He set her down gently and turned to Albus, saying, "I leave her in your capable hands, sir. Keep your eye on her!"

"It will be my pleasure," Albus replied, stepping slightly closer to Minerva. "She'll be taken care of, you can be sure of that."

Lucy leaned in to kiss Minerva's cheek and in so doing, she whispered, "You can take care of yourself, too. Remember that."

"I will," Minerva responded quietly. She squeezed Lucy's hand and stood with Albus as their counterparts headed in the direction of the apparition point.

"Now, what's this about a cloak?" Albus murmured in her ear.

"I'll tell you when we get back to my flat. It's not something I want to discuss here. You never know who could be lurking around."

Although Minerva wasn't a fan of divination, even she, in later years, would remark that that statement was somewhat prophetic.

"Well, hello, Minerva. Professor Dumbledore." Tom Riddle's voice flowed into their ears from behind. "I suppose congratulations are in order."

Minerva felt a tension creep into her bones and settle into her neck. "Hello, Riddle. What are you doing here?"

"No need to be rude, Minerva. Abraxas Malfoy wanted to visit the campus, and a convocation ceremony seemed to be as good a time as any to see what this school was really about."

"I'm sure Mr. Malfoy wanted to ensure the school was up to his family's standards," Albus commented mildly.

"Precisely, Professor. We couldn't have a member of one of the most prestigious wizarding families attending a less than stellar school, now could we?" Riddle smirked at the two of them. "Now, I know what Minerva is doing here, but Professor, why are you here?"

Once again, Minerva knew exactly what Riddle was implying. "Listen, Riddle—"

"I was invited by a few members of the faculty. Old colleagues of mine, you see," Albus interrupted smoothly. "And of course, I couldn't give up the chance to congratulate a former student of mine, particularly when she obtained a mastery in my own field of research."

"Yes, I'm sure that's exactly why you're here." Riddle raised an eyebrow. "Now, Minerva, is it true that you'll be staying on with the Auror office?"

Minerva was bewildered; she had thought that her job offer was rather under wraps. "Where on earth did you hear that from?"

"I have a few friends on the Aurors," Riddle shrugged mildly. "Yaxley takes care of all hiring matters, and he mentioned that there was a job offer with your name on it. He must know that we were friends in school."

Friends is a bit much, Minerva thought. Aloud, she said, "Well, Yaxley should know better than to discuss private personnel matters."

"Perhaps." Riddle smiled coyly. "I just may be seeing you around the Ministry. If you decide to take the offer, that is."

"Oh?"

"As I'm sure you've heard, I'm working for Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley. I often get called upon to be a witness for...less than savoury matters. Now," Riddle checked his watch, "I should be getting back to Abraxas. He has a penchant for getting into all sorts of trouble when left unsupervised. Congratulations again, Minerva. Good day, Professor." With a nod and a smirk, Riddle turned and headed back the way he came.

"I don't like that Tom has friends on the Aurors, not one bit," Albus murmured, his eyes narrowing in distaste. "I fear that does not bode well."

"It's unsettling," Minerva agreed. "I'm just glad I didn't end up studying with Abraxas. The man can be rather nosy."

Albus turned to her. "Would you think me rather nosy if I asked you what on earth this job offer is about, and why you didn't think it pertinent to tell me?"

"Not here, Albus," Minerva sighed. "Let's head home, and then we can discuss this and the cloak, all right?"

"That's fine with me," Albus replied, his tone sharper than he intended. He offered her his arm. "Shall we go?"

In a sequence that was feeling all too familiar lately, the pair walked in silence to the apparition point and separated upon arrival, not looking at each other as they transfigured their clothes into more comfortable attire. Minerva didn't know what she was trying to feel more comfortable for, but the butterflies in her stomach told her the upcoming conversation would be anything but pleasant.

"It would seem the ball is in your court, this time," Minerva began when they were both settled on her couch, sitting apart but facing each other. "What would you like to touch on first?"

"The cloak," Albus said. "What on earth is this cloak?"

"It's an invisibility cloak," Minerva sighed, Summoning it from her closet and handing it to him. "It has been in Lucy's family for...well, forever, and she and Callum wanted me to have it during the war. I tried to give it back to Callum for Iolanthe to have, but he wouldn't take it."

"Minerva, do you know what this is?" Albus' eyes were alight with discovery. "I think this is another one of the Deathly Hallows!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Remember how I told you that the wand you won is the Elder Wand? The brothers from the tales were Peverells—isn't that Lucy's maiden name? My dear, you've found the second hallow!"

"While that sounds all well and good, I'm not giving this to you for further inspection," Minerva said firmly, taking the cloak back within her grasp. She Banished it back to her closet, where she placed an extra cloaking spell on it for good measure. "This was a gift from my sister-in-law, and it's not going to be used for your...pursuits."

"My pursuits? Minerva, my dear, I don't want to pursue anything. I merely want to inspect it."

"No, Albus. I want there to be a separation between your scholarship and research, and my family. That's final."

"Fine." He stared at her, his eyes cool. "All right, then. Will you tell me about this job offer of yours?"

"It's quite a wonderful opportunity, actually," Minerva started, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. "As you know, I've really enjoyed my time working in an administrative role with the Aurors, but I've missed the mystery of working on a case. Elphinstone Urquart, one of the heads of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, heard me talking about this and asked me if I would ever think about staying with the Aurors after school. You see, one of his employees recently retired in the Auror research division, leaving a vacancy."

"And he wants you to fill it?" Albus asked.

"Yes, that was his offer. I've given it a great deal of thought, and I haven't made my mind up yet. I would find the work extremely engaging, and there are obviously perks to a Ministry position. On the other hand, I don't want to spend more time apart from you than I have to."

"And you never thought to ask me what my opinions are on the matter?"

"I realize I haven't mentioned it before, but we haven't had much time together lately, and I always forgot—"

"You mean to tell me the great Minerva McGonagall forgot to mention something of great importance? Right, you've just been so busy with your mother that you've forgotten all else!"

Minerva blinked, stunned. "Albus, there's no need to be so cruel. As much as I hate to admit it, I too have my faults. I would think about talking about it, but then we would get together, and I suppose it slipped my mind..." She trailed off uncharacteristically, unable to find the right words. "Or, perhaps it was that I didn't want to think about it. I suppose I was cognizant of the fact that we have been fighting more and more lately, and I didn't want to add any fuel to the fire. I wanted to be happy and enjoy our time together."

"And yet you sat beside me while I told you about the job in Hogsmeade, letting me play the fool! Do you think that I look back on any of those conversations with any particular fondness now?"

Minerva winced. "No, I can't imagine that you do. I'm sorry, Albus. Truly. I know it isn't much consolation, but I did what I did to try and protect us. To preserve what we have."

Albus snorted, "Minerva, while I can appreciate that, we also need to move forward." His voice suddenly became more tentative. "Did you truly believe that I wouldn't be happy for you?"

"No! No, it's not that at all." She gripped his hands in hers and stared earnestly into his eyes. "Albus, I was scared."

"I would never make you choose between your mind and me. We could have worked it out together. The two of us are certainly intelligent enough; it wouldn't have been difficult."

"Concocting a plan may not be difficult, but I'm sure that theory and practice would be different."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning," Minerva took a deep breath, "that we would probably be committing to something that would make us both unhappy."

"Don't presume to know what will make me happy, my dear."

She arched an eyebrow as she felt a flare of indignation brew in her chest. "I'm not presuming, Albus. I'm using evidence to draw a conclusion."

"Your evidence being?"

"That you feel that our time together has been rather sparse as of late, and it's making you unhappy. Don't you try to deny it, either," Minerva added. "Don't forget I can feel what you feel."

"I wonder if there's a way to temper that," Albus murmured. "So that we don't always feel each other's emotions."

Minerva ripped her hands away from his and stood, walking to her kitchen table. She placed her hands on either side of the centerpiece—a sturdy, purple vase—in an effort to calm herself. "Please tell me you're not trying to change the subject to consider something that would make us less connected when we clearly have problems connecting as it is!"

He turned to face her, his eyes burning brightly. "I would argue that your evidence is based on something you think you feel, as opposed to something that is real."

"Are you trying to tell me that our bond isn't real?"

"No. I'm telling you that while you may feel displeasure or unhappiness or discontent, you have no actual way of determining the root cause. You are brilliant, my dear, but I doubt even you have that skill set."

Minerva narrowed her eyes. "Am I wrong?"

"About what?"

"I will concede that I cannot always know the root cause of your emotions; however, I stand by my assessment. You do not like that we have not spent much time together recently."

"No, I do not like that development."

With more patience than she felt, Minerva said, "Albus, while I appreciate that, surely you can understand why I have spent more of my free time going up north."

"To an extent."

She baulked. "What do you mean, to an extent?"

"Well, I could come with you—"

"With what reason?" She was half-exasperated, half-angry. "You won't let me tell my mother we're seeing each other!"

He continued as though she hadn't spoken. "And, my understanding is that you and your mother aren't very close. Surely Callum can handle whatever needs to be handled."

"Handled?" Minerva looked at him, dumbfounded. "I'm not handling my mother, Albus. I'm trying to take care of her."

"And I'm merely stating my surprise."

"My father died, Albus! You're unbelievable!" Minerva screamed, throwing the vase at the wall. The physical exertion made the release feel so much better than if she had exploded it with her magic. "You don't know what it means to come second to someone, even if it's for a perfectly good reason! Even if it's temporary!"

"And if we're meant to be together, then I should come first to you, and you to me."

"Except I never come first with you, Albus. There's always Hogwarts, the press, the Ministry, these unnamed enemies that run amuck—and my mother is family."

"I would gladly be a part of your family if you'd let me, Minerva."

She was so agitated that she didn't notice his hand twitch towards his inside breast pocket. "Besides, Albus, when was I supposed to tell you? When we were fighting? In bed, after making love? When your brother begrudgingly joined us for a drink? You had already made these grandiose plans for me to move into the village, and I wasn't even sure if I wanted to accept the job offer."

"Minerva…" Albus' face was in his hands. "I know I'm not a perfect man, and clearly, I am an imperfect partner. I do, however, do my best to be open and honest with you. Imagine how I would feel if, two years from now, you suddenly resented me because a position at Hogwarts hadn't yet opened up and you were still working in Hogsmeade? You would have a perfectly good reason to be angry with me, but I would be completely in the dark. You're not giving me a chance to improve; you've decided I'm as good as beheaded before I've even had a chance to testify!"

Minerva paused, considering. "Okay. I understand that. All I can do is apologize and I am sorry, Al. I didn't think of it that way."

"I accept your apology," Albus replied quickly, eager to put this behind him. After he had left the bar back in February, he had decided that if Minerva could forgive him, he would ask her to marry him. He was only waiting for a feeling of normalcy, and then he would pop the question. Her ring was weighing heavily—figuratively and literally—on his chest from within his pocket, and he wanted to be able to move forward.

Together.

"Now," he shook himself out of his reveries, "will you please come and sit with me so we can discuss this job of yours?"

"All right," Minerva answered. She sat beside him and placed a pillow in her lap so that she would have something to fiddle with. "What do you think?"

"I would like to know more than 'I have a job offer with the Auror research department', for starters," Albus chuckled, and for a moment, it seemed like jovial Albus had re-entered the conversation.

"There's not too much more to say," Minerva shrugged. "I think I would really enjoy the work. It seems fascinating, and I wouldn't be in any danger. Well," she thought for a moment, "that's not quite true. Because I have already served in the actual Auror corps on the field, I could be called upon to go on a mission or two. Before you worry too much, I don't have any desire to be like Ro and volunteer for missions simply because Aidan and Callum are going."

"You did for me." Albus' voice was quiet.

"Yes, I did." Minerva ran her finger gently around the edge of his face and stopped at his chin, tilting it downwards so he would be forced to meet her gaze. "And you have my word that I would only join another mission if I felt it to be as imperative as the war effort. Seeing as I am unaware of another evil menace threatening our existence, we should be fine for the next few years."

He met her gentle teasing with a sigh so heavy it rattled her. "Minerva, I have no issue with you taking this job. For what it's worth, I think you'd be brilliant at it, and I believe it would only help your future application at Hogwarts to have more research experience. I also know you well enough to know that it would make you much happier than Scrivenshaft's. What's more, I believe we could work together to come up with a visiting schedule that would suit our work and our personal lives."

"That's wonderful!" Minerva beamed, somewhat relieved.

"But," Albus continued, closing his eyes in fear of her reaction, "I do not want you on the field. I do not want you risking your life, especially if I'm not there to protect you."

She barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "I think I have proven that I can take care of myself, Albus."

"Yes, but you were captured! You couldn't have ended the war alone!" He grasped her hands and clutched them. "And what happens when the next great threat to our world emerges? What happens if Tom Riddle finds out and he doesn't let you out of his sight for the rest of his days? If he renews his obsession with you? Then what?"

"What on earth does Riddle have to do with anything? When he finds out about what, exactly? Our bond? Albus, I'm not planning on advertising our bonding to anyone," she responded, flabbergasted. "Wait, surely he isn't the proverbial enemy of whom you're so scared?"

He changed the subject, clearly unwilling to indulge her with the answers she craved. "Please, Minerva. Please, promise me you won't enter the field."

"I will promise no such thing. You and I both know that I have too much integrity to take a job without committing to fulfill all of the duties to the best of my ability. Albus, I will not compromise who I am—my very ethos— in the name of appeasing you. I will not hide parts of myself like my mother, Albus. Do not ask that of me." Minerva's face turned stony and her voice sharp. "This is a deal-breaker, and I mean that. It would be one thing if you had simply said that you wanted me closer to you in Hogsmeade, but this? No, Albus. Absolutely not. You know how hard my parents' relationship was for me growing up, and I have no plans to emulate it."

"Don't you love me?" His question was so naïve—almost childish—in nature that it gave them both pause.

"Albus, I could turn that same question back on you," Minerva pointed out. "If you loved me, you wouldn't ask this of me. We discussed this on Valentine's Day: you need to give me the kind of relationship that I want, or we need to have a different conversation."

Albus tugged desperately on his beard. "I can't lose you, Minerva. I can't. But I also know that I can't live in constant fear, waking every day with the knowledge that you might be in danger. Please, don't you love me?"

After he asked his question a second time, Minerva had a painful realization, and she suddenly knew what she had to do. "I love you very much," Minerva said plainly, almost as though she was explaining a simple concept to a child, "but you don't make me happy anymore. Otherwise, I would have told you about this job right away."

He was stunned. "What about our bond? We literally can make each other happy. Minerva, we're connected. We're supposed to be together."

"Despite our bond's potential protestations and the inevitable complications, I can't be with someone who doesn't make me happy." Her voice became gentler as she realized she wasn't only breaking his heart, but her own. "Albus, we've had some version of this conversation before. I won't stay with someone just because my soul has latched on to theirs."

"Our souls have done more than merely latch, Minerva. Our attachment goes far beyond what either of us could have conceived in your sixth year."

"Our souls' degree of attachment is not the issue here; rather, the fact that we're not happy. The fact that I worry more about upsetting you than anything else!"

"Why on earth would you be worried about that?"

"Because you have plans, Albus! And while I may feature prominently in them, they are your plans. Not ours, but yours. You created them and have fit me into your life as though our relationship were a puzzle. We're meant to be creating a new life together, and we're clearly not capable of doing that. Not together, not now."

"Minerva, please. Please don't tell me this is the end," Albus begged. He was having an out-of-body experience; he so rarely didn't get what he wanted that he found he couldn't cope, and there was nothing he wanted more than Minerva. He felt like he was watching someone else kneel before her and clutch on to her robes. "Please, Minerva. What happened to always saying yes?"

Despite her best efforts, a sob broke through Minerva's throat. She knew that in another world—one where he was less controlling, one where she was less obstinate—she would be the one begging him to stay and to try again. To fix the mess that had become their relationship. "Al, can you honestly tell me that you're happy?"

He burrowed his face into her robes, staining them with his tears. "I can't be happy without you."

"That's not what I asked, my love." Minerva rested her head on top of his, letting her own tears slide down and mingle with his. "Albus, whatever we're doing isn't working. You know it just as well as I do."

"No," he moaned, his voice strained. One last, final idea came to him. "Don't you want to teach, Minerva? We can still do that together, my dear."

"Don't you dare throw that dream in my face! How could you, Al?" she sobbed, her chest heaving under the weight of it all. Minerva knew that he was fighting for her more than she'd ever seen him fight for anything, and it pained her to realize it wasn't enough.

Later that night, Minerva would think that this breakdown was the result of cowardice. He had been too afraid to face his demons and fight Grindelwald, resulting in an inability to move forward. She was too scared to insult his ego and inform him that she had received a better offer than the one he had procured for her. They were too fearful of losing each other that they had forgotten how to grow. Perhaps the Sorting Hat chose wrongly, Minerva would think bitterly. All this nonsense about being a hatstall, and the Hat still came to the wrong conclusion.

In the present, Albus was attempting to get her attention. "Minerva? Tell me this isn't the end."

"I don't like lying, Albus, so I can't tell you that. We'll have to work out what to do about our friends," Minerva muttered, more to herself. "Aidan, Ro, and Poppy will surely be confused if you suddenly stop coming 'round, and Aidan idolizes you too much to let you go."

"My dear?"

Minerva gently pushed him off of her lap before rising. Her demeanour turned professional; she had always been deft at compartmentalizing. "Albus, I need a walk. I need to get some air and find a neutral space for a while so I can collect myself. I will expect you to have vacated my house by the time I return. I'll send Felina with a note about collecting anything I may have left at the Hog's Head, and if I find anything of yours, I'll of course send it along. Perhaps once our heads have cleared, we can discuss how we want to move forward. Despite all of this, I know enough about our bond to know that I do need you in my life, Albus. I need your friendship." She smiled sadly at him, and she noted that both of their faces were wet.

"Please, Tabby! Don't leave!"

"Goodbye, Albus." She turned and left her flat, shutting the door behind her. Leaning against it, she bit back a gasp as she heard him yowl, utterly broken. Despite everything, she knew she had done the right thing. And despite everything that had come after her initial decision, Minerva was thankful that she had joined the Aurors' war effort, if only so that she wouldn't give in to her desire to work and live alongside Albus for the rest of her life.