A/N: Thank you all for reading.

For the disclaimer, please see the prologue.

Chapter Forty-One: January 1948

It was late January, and Minerva was very pregnant. She was finding it more and more challenging to move around, and for the first time, she found their little quarantine cottage to be stifling. Lucy had sympathized with Minerva's need for space, understanding that Iolanthe and Aoife were often too much for their pregnant aunt to handle. The girls—who loved the cottage and preferred it to the city—were currently in the back garden, playing with their mother and Ro. Poppy and Aidan were reading in the living room with Minerva. With her due date rapidly approaching, both were afraid to let her out of their sight.

Minerva turned the page in her well-loved copy of Othello when she felt a sharp pain across her arm. "Oh, ouch."

Both Poppy and Aidan, who by this point were attuned to everything Minerva said, turned their attention to her.

"What's wrong?" Aidan asked.

"My arm feels funny, that's all. It's burning," Minerva said, shrugging, "but it's fine."

"Which arm?"

"My right, Aidan, why?"

"So I could grab this one," Aidan sighed, standing and pulling her into the next room by her left arm. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

"Either my arm is in pain for some unknown reason—which I suppose is worrying in itself—or Albus is in danger." Minerva looked at him, expressionless. "There's not much we can do if it's the latter, unfortunately."

"No, there's not," Aidan sighed. "Will you let Poppy look at it? Or if not Poppy, me, at least?"

"You can," Minerva acquiesced. She took off her sweater and hissed when she caught sight of her arm. There was a bright red mark on her right bicep, and to her horror, there was a small amount of blood.

"That's not normal." Aidan sucked in a breath. "You're sure you didn't do this?"

She glared at him. "How do you think I would have done this to myself and not known it? It's not like a character popped out of Shakespeare and decided to do battle with me."

Aidan looked at her, unamused. "This is Albus, then? Should we tell someone?"

"Who would we tell, Aidan? Albus is the only one who knows we're here."

"Well," he shrugged, "maybe we could send Ro out to get help? Send her to the Ministry? She could go get an Auror detail."

"But how would we explain this, Aidan? Albus and I would be subjected to numerous tests once the Ministry found out how I knew he was in danger."

"I don't have another solution, Min. I don't want Albus to die because we didn't do anything, and I sure as hell don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"He must be in some sort of battle. I wonder if he's close to Callum," Minerva murmured. Her interest was piqued, and so she allowed herself to feel their bond for the first time since she had ended things with Albus. "Oh, my, he's in pain."

"Don't intentionally feel it, Min! We don't want you to gain any more mysterious injuries!"

She was about to respond when another sharp pain cut across her ribcage, knocking the wind out of her.

"Min, you're bleeding!" Aidan yelled, horrified. With a gentle touch, he placed his hand below her ribs. Minerva hissed, and she paled when Aidan removed his hand, which was covered in her blood.

"This can't be good," Minerva whispered, looking up at him.

"Does your stomach hurt?" Aidan asked seriously.

She stared into his eyes—realized she wouldn't be able to lie and say she was fine—and nodded slowly. "Yes, it does."

"I'm getting Poppy," Aidan said, running out of the room.

In the minute it took for him to return with Poppy, Minerva was leaning heavily on the kitchen table, one hand splayed across her stomach.

"Minerva?" Poppy's eyes were wide. "What the hell happened?"

"Albus is in pain," Minerva choked out roughly.

Poppy glared at Aidan. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that Albus confirmed his identity by saying he was "bonded to Minerva"? What the hell does that even mean?"

"It means," Minerva breathed, "that he's clearly in a lot of pain if this is what is happening to me."

"You should have told me about this bond, Min!" Poppy strode to Minerva and lifted her hand. "Merlin, that's a lot of blood seeping through. Aidan," she snapped, "I don't want to move her. Get everything out of the office: my medical bag, the bed, everything."

"Poppy?" Minerva asked groggily. "What are you going to do?"

"Depending on what I see when I get you undressed," Poppy said grimly, "I may have to deliver your baby."

Albus was not having an easy time of it as of late. He had had an appointment with Violet—to which he had not wanted to go—and given that she didn't know about the magical world, he had needed to take precautions. Albus knew that, if his Auror detail had been following them, Violet would have asked questions that he was unwilling to answer. Thanks to some cleverly constructed charms, his Aurors were still back at Hogwarts, under the impression that Albus was in his office. After the appointment had finished, Albus had decided to walk back to Hogwarts; he needed some time to think, and he did so best when he was alone. Unfortunately for him, he was caught unawares.

Now, he found himself without his wand and on the receiving end of quite the beating. At first, Albus had thought it was Muggles; their physicality and lack of spell use suggested they were unaware of the magical world. His opinion changed when he realized they wrenched his wand away from him almost immediately.

Albus' arm was slashed and bleeding, and he was reasonably sure he would find a broken bone upon closer inspection. His head was throbbing, and his ankle seemed to be dragging behind him as he did his best to defend himself from his attackers. What appeared to have suffered the worst of it, though, was his midsection.

He had suffered a bleeding wound across his ribs that looked quite dangerous, in his estimation. The assailants also took great pride in "kicking Dumbledore's gut", so his stomach was riddled with bruises and various cuts. Albus couldn't blame them, really; he would kick himself if he could. He had never been well-suited for physical fights, but he had been too proud in his abilities to be on the lookout during his walk home. Ironically, his Auror detail wouldn't look for him for hours, not given the powerful magic with which he had bewitched them in order to leave in the first place.

Sometimes, Albus grimaced, the world was a little too cruel.

"Are we taking him back?" A gruff voice sounded above Albus' head.

"We could rough him up some more." Another voice laughed coldly. "If he's enough of an idiot to be blindsided like this, he deserves what's coming to him."

With that, said assailant struck Albus directly in the groin.

Albus thought he heard a woman screaming inside his head upon impact, but he shook the sound away. Enough damage had been done to his body that he was sure it was also affecting his mind.

"That's enough," the first voice said, pulling his friend away. "We need to get him back to headquarters alive, and preferably recognizable."

Albus did his best to stand—to fight—but his stomach was in too much pain. "Listen, gentlemen, I don't know who you're working for, but trust me when I say there's a better option than tearing down the wizarding world."

"Shut it, or I'll let Crabbe here have his way with you."

Crabbe, Albus filed away. Crabbe is a part of this.

Suddenly, a sharp pain radiated through Albus' pelvis, and to his horror, he screamed.

"Dumbledore's weak!" Crabbed laughed. "Let's take him back."

Albus felt a blindfold around his head, and as soon as his vision disappeared, he felt the tell-tale pull of Apparition behind his already-pulsing navel.

Back at his cottage, miles away, Minerva felt certain she was near death. Her cuts kept re-opening after Poppy had healed them, and Poppy had deemed it necessary to immediately deliver the baby.

"Min, how is this even possible?" Poppy muttered, waving her wand over Minerva's stomach. "You have internal bruising all over your stomach."

"How would I know, Poppy? Oh," Minerva cried, gripping Aidan's hand. "You didn't tell me labour was this painful!"

"It's not supposed to be, Minerva!" Poppy snapped. "Aidan, I need you to monitor the stasis charms on her cuts. We need the bleeding to stop; she's losing too much blood. I don't want her pushing and re-opening the cuts."

Aidan's eyes widened as he moved to take over the cuts. "She can do that?"

Poppy spared a second to throw him a glare. "Aidan, you don't know the stress labour can put on the body, do you?"

"Poppy!" Minerva yelled, her voice tight. "Why is everything spinning?" She closed her eyes to try and quell her rolling stomach. "I feel like I'm non-stop apparating."

"Min?" She heard Poppy's alarmed voice. "What do you mean?"

"Everything feels...funny," Minerva murmured. She did her best to breathe, but her head felt as though it was shaking. Her mind's eye seemed to be simulating an experience for her: she could see nothing but black, and she felt cold and resounding pain. Minerva opened her eyes, but instead of seeing the cottage kitchen, she saw a mix of the kitchen and a dark, rusty cell.

The Minerva in the cell looked down, and Minerva saw an auburn beard, matted and crusted with blood. "Albus?" Minerva whispered. "Albus, is that you?"

Aidan and Poppy looked at each other, pausing their activities. "Min," Aidan called nervously, "Min, Albus isn't here!"

"What do you mean?" Minerva asked, her voice dreamy. "He's here. He's right here with me." It was almost as though she was in two places at once: her own body, giving birth, and where ever Albus was.

"Poppy, what do we do?" Aidan cried. "Min, look at me!"

Minerva tried, she really did. Instead, her eyes glossed over, and she found herself looking at Albus' crumpled body, which was surrounded by a pool of blood. "Oh, Poppy, you need to help Albus! He's losing a lot of blood."

"You're losing a lot of blood, Min! For the love of Merlin, stay with me!" Poppy's voice was a mix of anger and franticness. "I did not give my year up so you could leave me at the end of it all!"

"Ah!" Minerva screamed, her head splitting in pain as she felt and saw Albus' head thrown against a wall. If she concentrated hard enough, she thought she could hear Albus groan. "My head!"

"Poppy, why does her head hurt?"

"I don't know, Aidan! I'm trying to get the baby out. Tell her to push, all right?" Poppy ordered, positioning herself between Minerva's legs. "I want that baby out now."

"Min." Aidan took hold of Minerva's cheeks and kissed her hard, like he could kiss her sanity back into her. "Push, okay? We need our baby out."

Minerva nodded as best she could, and pushed. The pain caused her to scream, and she could see Albus crumple in response to the new horror coursing through her hips, back, and stomach.

How Shakespearean, she thought, that we'll be the death of each other.

"Min, push!" Poppy commanded. "Come on, love, I can see the head!"

Minerva could hear Poppy and knew she had to obey her wishes; however, her mind was focusing more on her view from Albus' mind.

"We'll leave you here and come back in the morning." Minerva heard a rough voice. "We'll need you ready for interrogation by then." The voice was followed by footsteps, and Minerva could tell he was alone.

"Min, a few more pushes, okay?" Aidan said. He looked into her eyes, bringing Minerva back to him. "You're so close."

"Okay, I'm close," Minerva agreed faintly, "but you have to help Albus. He's bleeding."

"We will," Aidan promised, "but I need you to be safe before we can do that."

"Albus?" A hoarse voice called from the shadows, calling Minerva's attention back to the cell and Albus. "Is that really you?"

"Wait, I know that voice!" Minerva cried.

"What voice, Minerva?" Aidan asked, wildly looking at Poppy.

"Aidan, humour her! Whatever she's seeing, it's working!"

With one final push, Minerva screamed, and she heard Albus scream along with her.

The hoarse voice—sounding more and more familiar—asked urgently, "Albus, are you all right?"

"Callum?" Minerva gasped, taking a breath.

"I don't know about Callum," Poppy said, looking nervously at Aidan, "but you have a baby boy."

"A baby boy," Minerva murmured, "and Callum."

"Min, can you stay awake for me? We need you to stay awake, darling. Poppy needs to heal you." Aidan wiped some stray hair away from her face. "Please, keep your eyes open."

"I'm too tired," Minerva answered, and she felt her head hit the pillow just as she saw Albus' head bounce off the cement floor.

When Minerva finally emerged from her dreamlike state, she found herself staring at Aidan and Poppy, who was holding a wrapped bundle in her arms.

"How is he?" Minerva asked, her voice gravelly. "I don't remember what happened. I saw a lot, and I'm not sure what was real."

"He's perfect," Aidan whispered. "I'm honestly more worried about you." He sat down on the bed beside his wife. "You gave me the fright of my life, Minerva McGonagall."

"Will I be all right?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"You will be," Poppy responded wearily. "But it'll take a while before you're up on your feet. You lost a lot of blood, and you have some fairly deep cuts and bad bruises. Not to mention the fact that I know absolutely nothing about the ramifications on your mental health after a bonding experience like that. You were muttering about Callum and Albus, Min."

"My head hurts," Minerva admitted quietly, "and I don't feel like I'm fully here."

Poppy hesitated and then said, "It might be like that for a while. I suppose a lot of it depends on how Albus fares."

"Don't worry about that," Aidan added quickly. "Just focus on taking care of yourself, and you're obviously not alone with the baby."

"But I am worried, Aidan," Minerva said. "What happened to me?"

"We think it's your bond, Min," Aidan returned, a defeated tone in his voice. "We think you were partly with Albus in your mind. But...the two of us don't know enough about soul bonds to know how to help."

"I'll send Ro with a message to Mr. Flamel," Poppy said, "to see what research he has drummed up. Aidan told me that Albus was working with him; maybe he has been able to discover something."

"Like I said, though," Aidan interjected, "you just need to focus on you right now, Min."

She knew her husband's intent was to be comforting, but her mind was on far more important matters. "Poppy, can I see my son? Let me hold him," Minerva rasped. "Please." She saw Aidan and Poppy look at each other, and she felt a desperate longing in her heart. "Unless you think I'm a danger to him, that is."

Aidan shook his head and took his son from Poppy. "You're not a danger to him, love, but you're too weak to hold him by yourself. I'll just sit beside you and hold his head, all right?"

He maneuvered into place, and Minerva felt a deep love flow through her as she ran her fingers over her son's small knuckles. "I'm so relieved he's okay."

"I'm relieved you're both okay," Aidan sighed. He pressed a kiss to Minerva's forehead. "That was absolutely terrifying."

"Wait, what's this mark on his arm?" Minerva asked, inspecting her son's right arm. She felt a prickle of alarm. "Poppy?"

"I highly doubt it's harmful," Poppy reassured. "It looks like a magical birthmark. I don't know much about your bond with Albus, but this looks like the cut on your arm. It must have been imprinted on the babe as well. I'd need to do more research into magical bondings to say for sure, though."

"Add it to the list," Aidan muttered. "Thank you, Poppy."

"Of course." Poppy grinned at the two of them. "I'll go and tell the others that you've both made it through just fine. Before I do: does the boy have a name?"

The new parents looked at each other. Aidan asked, "Are you still comfortable naming him after my partner that died in the war?"

"Andrew?"

"Yes," Aidan said, "but I liked his middle name, remember? Dalton."

"Dalton," Minerva murmured. "I don't mind that."

"It's appropriate, as well," Poppy added. "The name means "from the valley", and given that we're currently in a countryside cottage overlooking a valley, it fits."

"Why don't you choose his middle name?" Aidan asked Minerva gently. "We should each get one. Make it as Scottish as you want, I won't care."

Minerva laughed softly. "You might, depending on the name. I'm sure you'd like to be able to pronounce it."

"That would be ideal, yes," Aidan chuckled. "Any thoughts?"

"Fionnlagh," Minerva decided. "A Scottish Gaelic name meaning warrior. He fought his way into the world, so it's apropos."

"Dalton Fionnlagh Scrimgeour," Aidan said, testing it out. "How'd I do?"

"Just fine." Minerva smiled and looked up at him. "That'll do."

"I think I'll give you three a few minutes alone," Poppy broke in gently. "Min, I don't want you moving at all. Aidan, if she tries, just holler. I'll keep the others out as long as I can."

"Thank you, Poppy." Minerva's eyes glistened as she turned her gaze to her friend. "I know that this birth was scarier than you or Aidan will ever admit, so thank you for everything. I'm so grateful you came into hiding with us."

"You're welcome," Poppy returned. "You're more than welcome. I'll leave you to it." She gave a brief smile before leaving the room, shutting the door gently behind her.

Minerva turned back to her husband. "Was it really that bad?"

"Min, I..." Aidan trailed off and ran his free hand through his hair. "I thought I was going to lose you. I thought I was going to lose you both."

"I'm here," Minerva said softly. "We both are."

Aidan hummed in agreement, shifting so Minerva could rest her head on his shoulder. She had a suspicion Callum was with Albus, and the swirling thoughts in her head told her they were both in danger, but Minerva didn't quite have the energy to care. She had her baby in her arms and her husband by her side, and that was enough.

It was more than enough.