A/N: Happy New Year! My FF is acting up on the back-end, so I'm not getting every email, and my views haven't updated since Saturday (must be a 2022 issue?), but I am so appreciative of all of your messages and reviews!

For the disclaimer, please see the prologue.

Chapter Forty-Nine: July 1951

Ro studied Minerva. They had known each other since they were children, and yet, she couldn't quite tell what her grieving friend was thinking.

They were sitting in Minerva's sitting room in her house in Hogsmeade. Ro had essentially moved in since Aidan's death, doing her best to take care of Minerva. She cooked meals, and Minerva ate them. She ran Minerva baths, and failed to coax her into them. She did her best to get her to talk, but Minerva wouldn't open her mouth.

Not only was Minerva good at pretending to be fine when she wasn't, but she was also stubborn as all hell.

Ro was about to attempt to rouse Minerva from her daydreaming—perhaps she could get her friend's attention by flying through a window—when there was a knock on the door. She looked at Minerva, who instinctively turned in the other direction from her spot on the couch and tucked herself into her blanket.

Ro looked at Minerva for a moment. She wished that Min would get off the couch, but she only left to use the loo. Sighing, Ro stood and walked to the door. She smiled briefly when she saw who was on the other side. "Hello, Albus."

"Good afternoon, Ro." Albus smiled. "Would it be all right if I came in?"

"Of course," Ro said excitedly. She stepped aside so he could fully enter the hall. Whispering, she said, "Min hasn't spoken to anyone for days. Merlin, it's good to see you. It's nice to hear a response when I say something."

"Is Dalton here? Surely she'd talk to him," Albus asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"He was, for the first couple of weeks. Callum and I decided to take him to McGonagall Manor last week. Minerva..." Ro trailed off, shaking her head. "Min obviously isn't doing well. We thought going back home—where Isobel could take care of them—would help, but Min wouldn't hear of it. I think Isobel is offended, to be honest, but Min insisted. Personally, I think she wanted to be here more than anything."

"Of course," Albus responded sadly. "This was their home. She has plenty of wonderful memories here with her family." He looked Ro over. "How are you doing?"

"I've been better." Ro ran a hand through her spiky hair. "Obviously, Aidan was everyone's friend, and losing a friend is simply a shitty experience, no matter which way you look at it."

"It is," Albus agreed quietly. "This has been a hard time for everyone. Having said that, you're the one who took time off to take care of Minerva. You should have had more support." He paused for a moment. "I should have been here sooner."

Ro shook her head. "Don't think like that, Albus. I don't mind being here, honestly. Poppy stayed with me for the first week; she wanted to ensure that Minerva was physically healthy. Isobel came the next week, but she still isn't keen on magical travel after spending so many years away from the magical world, so that became untenable. It's why we suggested the Manor."

"I'm surprised Minerva let Dalton out of her sight."

Ro sighed. "She's in her right mind enough to know that she can't take care of him; at least, not in her current state. I also don't think Min wants her son to see her like this." Ro looked at Albus intently. "She's a mess. After the funeral, she stopped talking to us. She eats and sleeps on the couch. I talk to her statue all day."

"Why don't you go home for a couple of hours? I can stay and look after Minerva."

"Are you sure?" Ro narrowed her eyes. "I thought Violet was all over you lately."

Albus winced. "She didn't appreciate me rushing off to danger without telling her, no. I also had to explain away owl mail and the fact that our house is unplottable."

"Oh?" Ro snorted, amused. "How did you go about that?"

"I said I had spoken with the police force to ensure that we're left off maps and registries. It was a weak excuse, but she was willing to believe it."

"And the owls?"

"I'm afraid I had to say that I have no idea what owl mail is, and that Minerva must have been too worried about Aidan to know what she was saying."

"Merlin, Albus, your life is a bloody mess." Ro leaned back against the wall. "You're sure you're okay to be here?"

"Yes, I can be here for a few hours." Albus nodded. "Violet is upset about Aidan's passing as well, and she understands that I want to be a support to Minerva."

"I see." Ro's yellow eyes stared at him, not quite believing him. "Well, it would be nice to give Poppy a kiss and take a nap in my own bed."

"Violet is making dinner for seven, so that gives you about five hours, if that's okay?"

"It's brilliant." Ro motioned to the family room. "Come, let's go tell her about the plan."

Albus nodded and followed Ro down the hall. He was nervous to see Minerva again. The last time he had seen her was Aidan's funeral, but he had only murmured, "I'm so sorry, my dear," before she had stoically sat herself in the front row of the church. She hadn't moved until almost everyone had left, and he had needed to return to Hogwarts.

He turned the corner and immediately frowned. Minerva's hair was in a messy plait. She was pale, facing away from the door, and looking more gaunt than he had ever seen her.

"If you're wondering what the stench is," Ro whispered, "it's her."

"Ro," Albus admonished. "Be kind."

Ro raised an eyebrow and turned on her heel, walking over to Minerva so she could squat in front of her. "Min?"

Minerva said nothing, but she turned to look at her friend.

"I'm going to go home, okay? Albus is here. He'll look after you. I'll be back in time to feed you some dinner." Ro pressed a quick kiss to the top of Minerva's head. "Be good, all right?"

Ro patted Albus' arm on her way out. "Best of luck, Professor." In a lower register, she said, "Try to get her to talk, won't you?"

Albus waited until the front door had closed before sitting across from Minerva in an armchair. He looked at her, gauging what to say, and how to say it.

Like she was wont to do, Minerva understood him before he could pull himself together.

"You're here about the job." Minerva's voice was hollow from days of disuse. "I'm sorry I've taken so long to get back to you."

"Minerva, don't be ridiculous."

"Albus." Her voice turned icy. "That's why you're here."

"The job is one of the reasons I'm here," Albus corrected. "I'm also here because I happen to care about you."

"Pity. Everyone who cares about me ends up dead. Charlotte, Diana, Aidan."

"Minerva—"

"Don't, Albus. Don't attempt to placate me. I'm well aware my statement is hyperbolic, but right now, it feels true. Let me wallow."

Albus pursed his lips. "Fine. Let's talk about the job, then. I apologize for asking now, of all times, but term commences in six weeks, and I will need to send out an advertisement if you're uninterested. If you still need swaying, I talked to Armando about the school budget. Given...recent events, we're able to make a more competitive offer."

"I'm well aware I'm a single parent now, thank you." She sighed, inwardly chastising herself for her sharp tone. Softening, Minerva said, "I'll take the job, Albus. There's no need to make special provisions for me. I was actually in your office to tell you that I wanted to accept your offer when I found..." Minerva trailed off. She was perilously close to discussing something she didn't want to think about, let alone say aloud.

Albus coughed. "Ah, well, that's wonderful news. You'll still receive the salary increase—I'm firm on that."

"That's very generous. Thank you." Minerva looked down at her hands. "What else can I help you with?"

"I'm here to spend time with you, Minerva." Albus looked surprised. "What else would there be to discuss?"

"You forget that I have constant access to your feelings." She looked at him wryly. "Something is making your stomach turn. What is it?"

Sometimes, he hated their bond.

"I've been thinking," Albus said quietly. "I know that you most likely haven't given this a second thought, but I might know a way for you to go out with Dalton in public. If you wanted, of course." She merely looked at him, so he continued, "As you are aware, the public believes Aidan was killed in the same attack that killed his parents."

"Because he was."

"Er—yes, I suppose he was." Albus hesitated. "The public doesn't know if he had any next of kin, so what if you told people that you were Dalton's godmother? That way you could at least take him shopping, looking as you normally do. There would be no need to transfigure your appearance."

Minerva flashed him a wobbling smile. "Albus, I appreciate that you've taken the time to give this some thought. You're right: anyone who sees us would accept that I was his godmother—to our faces. They would whisper behind our backs; we look too much alike. Besides, our enemies know that Aidan and I ar—were married. It would be too easy for them to put the pieces together. I also want Dalton to have his mother with him for the important things, like school shopping, or when he gets his wand. I may not enjoy altering my physical appearance, but I prefer that to altering my relationship with my son."

Her voice had grown stronger as she spoke, causing Albus to bite back a smile. "It seems I didn't need to worry about that particular point."

"Why, is there more?" Minerva groaned.

"There's the slight issue of Dalton's inheritance."

"What do you mean, issue?" She glared at him. "Aidan's will was perfectly clear."

"Yes, but it's Dalton's other inheritance that poses a snag. He's now recognized as Lord Scrimgeour."

"Merlin's balls, he's not even four years old!"

Albus chuckled softly. "Perhaps not, but he already holds quite a lot of power. Especially amongst the Pureblooded crowd."

Minerva paled. "How do we protect him? Everyone will know—he'll have Notts and Malfoys and Crabbes hounding him before he utters his first spell!"

"I also had an idea on that front," Albus said.

"Of course you did," Minerva grumbled. "Well, then. Out with it."

"We simply inform the Wizardry Peerage Office that Aidan decided to have the title die with him, and he gifted the Manor to his closest family friends: the McGonagalls. If you ask the Minister—and if I ask with you—it will surely be done."

"I didn't realize I had given you ownership over my life choices, Albus," Minerva sighed wearily. To his surprise, she was close to tears. "But in this instance, yes: I agree with you. That works well."

"Minerva, I didn't mean to make you upset."

"No. No, you didn't." Minerva let loose a hysterical laugh. "Unfortunately, everything makes me upset now, Albus. I just lost my husband, who, before marrying me, had been my best friend since my first day at Hogwarts. I apologize if discussing his title and family home makes me upset."

Albus faltered. "I don't know what a safe topic is, my dear. How do I—"

She held up her hand to stop him mid-sentence. "There's no way to know. It's why I've stopped talking. I'm sick of crying, and when I speak, I can't stop."

"You're well within your right to cry. Don't begrudge yourself for that. Sadness is a normal human emotion."

"Yes, fine, but when does it stop?" Minerva looked at him, tears truly falling now. "At what point does it end? When can I look at my son without only seeing Aidan's face? Why, when Dalton does something adorable, do I turn to tell Aidan, only to remember he's not there?"

"So that's why Dalton is at the Manor," Albus surmised quietly. "Minerva, there's no correct way to grieve."

"I'm not only grieving, I feel horrible. I feel guilty. The last thing my husband ever heard was that I had betrayed him." Minerva laughed bitterly. "I betrayed him about Charlotte's death—the most painful memory he had—and I did so in cahoots with you. You, who he admired, even when he hated you. You know, because of our secret relationship and bond. I should have told him about Riddle the moment I knew. None of this would have happened."

"Don't go down that road, my dear." Albus rose so he could sit on the carpet in front of her. He took her hands in his and implored her to look at him. "You have absolutely no idea what would have happened had you told Aidan. Aidan may have gone after Tom right then—Aidan was talented, but I can't imagine he would have emerged unscathed from that particular duel. What if he had been so torn apart with vengeance and anger that he lost focus during the war? You may never have married. You might not have Dalton now.

"I've played this game myself, Minerva. After Ariana died, I rethought every move I had ever made. What if I hadn't befriended Gellert that summer? What if, even once, I had stood up to him? Questioned him and his intentions? My dear, you can't dwell on all of the possibilities. All you can do is be thankful for the time you did have. He was a wonderful person."

"He was." She shook her head to try to clear the tears away. "At least the rest of us didn't end up dead after Katrina altered the future," Minerva snorted humourlessly. "I'm not sure how time travel works, but that's a benefit."

"It's a small mercy," Albus agreed softly. He could sense she was about to break, so he allowed her the poor attempt at a subject change. "We are very lucky that the rest of us seem to still exist."

Minerva withdrew her hands from his so she could scratch at her arm. "You're right about all of it. I don't know when I'll get to that point of acceptance, but I can only hope it's sooner rather than later."

"Grief doesn't operate on a timeline, my dear." Albus frowned, noticing Minerva's forearm was red and swollen. "Is that from Riddle? How did Poppy not notice?"

Minerva blushed. "I told Poppy that I'd hit it on something—she didn't buy the excuse, but when she saw it wasn't more than a nuisance, she left it alone."

"Why haven't you put an end to it? I remember teaching you the counter-spell."

"I rather thought I deserved the pain," Minerva admitted, and Albus could have sworn he felt his heart break.

"Minerva. You don't deserve the pain." Albus held his hand out, silently asking permission. She hesitated before extending her arm. He pressed his wand to her skin and silently healed her injury. "You don't deserve what's happening right now. Aidan didn't deserve to die."

"No, he didn't," Minerva whispered. "If only he hadn't married me." To Albus' shock, Minerva picked up a pillow and threw it across the room. The pillow struck a glass of water on the counter, which fell over and crashed before Albus could even think to stop it.

"Minerva?" Albus asked tentatively.

She waved her hand for a moment, as though shooing him, and then muttered, "Come up here. Please."

Albus scrambled off the floor and sat beside her on the couch. Minerva promptly fell into his lap and started to bawl.

"Shh, my dear, it's all right. Let it all out." He stroked her hair gently. "Cry as much as you want. I have plenty of handkerchiefs."

Minerva made a noise that seemed to be a combination of a hiccup and a laugh. "I'm sorry about this."

Albus quirked an eyebrow. "Minerva, this is hardly the worst I've seen you."

"That's true," she sighed, settling back down into his lap. "You're sure it's okay if I just lay on you and cry?"

"I'm at your service, my dear. Besides, I'm sure Ro would prefer you get it out now. Maybe you'll even feel like a shower after."

Minerva snorted. "We'll see. Albus?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for being my friend."

He said nothing, content to rub her back as she started to cry again.

Minerva roamed the aisles in her classroom and watched over her students. It was her first full day of teaching, but she already knew that this job was helping to heal her. She almost fell over the first time someone addressed her as "Professor McGonagall," and although it would take some time to become accustomed to her new title, it felt like coming home every time she heard it.

"Professor McGonagall?" A first-year Hufflepuff asked tentatively as he approached her desk.

She looked at him, barely concealing her amusement at his shyness. "Yes, Mr. Diggory?"

"Only half of my match is turning into a needle. See?" He held it up to her face as if to prove it.

"Ah, yes." Minerva carefully moved the match-needle safely away from her eye and transfigured it back into its original form. "Can you please repeat the spell for me?"

"Par acus," Diggory said strongly. He frowned when his efforts still didn't prove successful. "What am I doing wrong?"

She smiled gently. "You need to separate the two words when you say them: make the distinction between "Par" and "acus" strong. Like this." Minerva found a spare match on her desk. "Par acus." The match immediately turned into a needle.

"Woah, that's a proper needle! It's sharp and silver!" Diggory gasped.

Minerva did allow herself a small chuckle this time. "Yes, the spell does work. Why don't you give it another try?"

In the end, it took him another three attempts before he was successful, but the smile he gave Minerva upon achieving his goal warmed her. For a moment, she was taken back to her first year at Hogwarts. A niggling memory of learning this same spell with Aidan threatened to ruin the moment; casting it aside, Minerva called the class to attention.

"It was lovely to meet all of you today. I look forward to the rest of the school year. Before our next class, please read chapter two in the textbook and come prepared to discuss it. Have a good evening," she added as the bell rang.

The students all rushed out, no doubt eager to meet with all of their friends and discuss in excruciating detail their very first day at Hogwarts. Minerva cleaned up with a wave of her wand. She watched the matches settle into their container with a satisfied smile before moving to erase the latest lesson from the blackboard.

"How did your first day of classes go, my dear?" Minerva turned around to see Albus enter her classroom.

"Well, I think. Very well. My third-years were impressed with my Animagus abilities, so I'll chalk that up to a win." Minerva smiled. "The students seem well-behaved; at least, the ones I had today."

"That's a relief. You never know what someone will try to pull on the first day."

"After Callum, I think I do," Minerva laughed. She looked at Albus, a serious expression on her face. "I can't thank you enough for selecting me for this position. This is already proving to be a boon to my soul. I needed some sort of direction in my career, and you managed to provide that while also fulfilling a lifelong dream."

"I appreciate the gratitude, but as I said, there really was no one better for the job." Albus hesitated, then asked, "It's not too much of an adjustment, is it? Dalton is handling it well?"

She bit her lip. "It's no more of an adjustment than anything else. I meant what I said to you during last week's staff meeting: this feels a lot like coming home. As for Dalton, I think life looks mainly the same, except now Violet takes him to school. Obviously, he still asks where his dad is, but..." Minerva faltered for a moment. "But there's only so much I can explain to a three and a half-year-old. Some days are better than others."

"Of course," Albus murmured, not quite knowing how to respond.

"In any event, I'm not on duty tonight," Minerva said, changing the subject as she packed her backpack. "Are you free this evening? Would you like to come back to your house with me? I have to pick up Dalton, and I'm sure our children are dying to tell us about their first day of pre-school."

"I would, but I'm afraid I have duty tonight," Albus responded. Truthfully, he was sorry about it. As much as he didn't know how to be a father—and perhaps surpassing his own expectations of himself—he did love Athena, and he wanted to do right by her. She was a lovely child, who had somehow only inherited the best parts of him.

Of course, when he went home, he had to see Violet, and while he loved her, he wasn't in love with her. Not like he was with the green-eyed witch who was studying him curiously, at any rate.

"What?" Albus finally asked, bemused. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I admire that Violet is able to give you to this school for hours on end. I don't think Aidan would have been half as forgiving if he knew I was living here with only an hour or two to spare at home on weekends and the occasional weeknight." Minerva shook her head and laughed softly. "He would have hated it."

"Well," Albus said, squirming, "needs must. I have to live here, for my job."

Minerva raised an eyebrow, correctly sensing there was more to the story. "Violet is a much better woman than I am. I'm not one to settle for half of someone." She widened her eyes, wondering what had possessed her to say that. "On that note, have a good night, Albus. I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow." With that, she left her classroom, leaving him to it.

After all, she knew that he knew how to lock the door.