His Daughter

Author: Leta McGotor

Disclaimer: I own nothing but some characters like Nostradamus Crehl and the McDrake family including Richard McGonagall. The other belongs to JKR.

SherbetKitty: She didn't talk because she didn't want to reveal herself. You will see that she has some plans, which are not that …nice? Thank you for your review. I love it to read them, really.

EM, postgrl, Lady Gallatea Ravenclaw: Thank you for your reviews and that you have tried to guess. You will see that you are not wrong.

SweetBlood: I hope you have received my mail. You only needed to wait until this chapter to be sure, who is his daughter. But really thank you for reviewing.

DamesFan: Sometimes I wonder if my language is really that bad. I hope it is not too confusing with all my mistakes. Hope you like it, nevertheless. And thank you for your review.

All of you are great!

Chapter 4 Revealing…

Two month had passed since the burial of Victoria McDrake and Albus Dumbledore had not only one minute he didn't thought about his daughter. In fact at the beginning of every class he watched every student of his sixth years. He had a list with the names of all girls in the apropiate age and every now and then he crossed a name because he knew her parents or knew that it was impossible that this girl could be his daughter.

Now he and the rest of the school was standing shortly before the Christmas holidays and Albus was standing at the window and looked out. He watched as Professor Crehl gave detention to a few third years because they threw a few snow balls at him. Albus smiled. Nostradamus hated snow above all other. Nothing could convince him that he would enjoy a trip around the grounds while it was winter.

Then Albus looked to the Qudditch Pitch. One lonely broom was in the air and he wondered who would train when all had to do with packing their trunks or enjoying the last day of school this year. Therefore Albus took his cloak and made his way to the Pitch.

Cold wind met him at the entrance and he felt the snow in his shoes while he was on his way. Arriving on the Pitch he was disappointed that the one, who had flewn, had chosen to stop and was not in the air anymore. He sighed. I become old, I'm really too slow. He thought turning around and attempting to make his way back to the warmth of the castle. With his thoughts on his daughter and wondering whether she would stay at the school or go home he bumped into something solid and knocked it to the ground. When he looked his gaze fell on one of his students, to be exact, on Minerva McGonagall, armed with a bag full of books, he recognised not as textbooks. He helped her up.

"Are you all right, Miss McGonagall?"

"Yes, I believe so." She answered collecting the books from the ground, most of them with a black cover.

"Do you had the feeling of need of fresh air?", he asked.

"No, not really. I have trained a bit for the next Quidditch match. I know all say we would win the Cup while sleeping but Ravenclaw has some really good players this year and I don't think it is good to stop with the training before we have the Cup in our hands."

"Yes, of course. I wondered if there would be someone who sees that, too. Ravenclaw is all but easy to beat. The match between them and Slytherin was really pressed. They nearly won the match. I have seen you on your broom from my office and I wondered. Are you ready with packing your trunk?"

"Yes.", she said staring at the ground. Then suddenly she looked up to the castle and to the window of his office. "I wanted to feel the cold air around me again, wanted to clear my mind. You like watching people from your window, right?"

"Yes, but I'm not the only one standing most time of the day at the window and looking out. I have seen a girl, a six year, I believe, sitting every night on the windowsill and staring out at the night. Do you know that girl?", he said and a smile played around his lips.

"I wanted to clear my mind and sitting on a windowsill always helps me."

"You often want to clear your mind, nearly every night and now again. What's on your mind, Miss McGonagall? Maybe I can help." Minerva hesitated. He was the last of all people she wanted to share her thoughts with, not in the moment. Besides that, this thoughts she wanted to share with nobody. Therefore she only sighed and shook her head.

"No, Professor Dumbledore. Nobody with the exception of myself can help me in this case. I need no help with it, because I have planned it for two months or longer. Thank you for your offer. Good bye and a happy Christmas feast." She smiled before turning around and running up the remaining way to the school. Albus stared at her back and wondered what it was, that she had planned for so long. But then he shrugged, Minerva was a girl, who knew, what she was doing. He sighed and his thoughts wandered back to his own problems and he asked himself whether his daughter also knew, what she did.

It was late this afternoon, only a short time until dinner. Albus Dumbledore sat in his office and looked through a pile of Transfiguration homework. He wanted to finish them before the start of holidays but looking at the other piles, he knew, that it was simply impossible. Tomorrow the students would go home for Christmas and only a few, not more than a hand full stayed. Albus was so deepened in his pile of parchment, that he didn' hear the first knock on his door. The second one was louder and Albus looked up in surprise. Who wanted to see him? He hurried to his door and opened it but no one was to be seen. He looked around the corner and saw that someone was going along the deserted corridor.

"Can I help you?" Albus asked not knowing who that student was. When she turned around to face him he noticed Minerva McGonagall with a heavy black book in her hands and a determined expression on her face. She came to him.

"Professor, I… I thought you… you weren't here" She began.

"Then you would not have knocked, would you?", he asked looking about the brim of his glasses. He could really feel that she was uncomfortable. "Do you want to come in?" She nodded and followed her professor inside his office. She looked surprised at the piles of homework on his desk and at some of them lying on the floor. She thought that it really was a chaos and that he should organize his things better that that.

Minerva stayed at the closed door while Albus made his way to the chair behind his desk and showed her to sit down as well, but Minerva stayed standing at the door, still looking at the parchment.

"What can I do for you, Miss McGonagall?" A long time she said nothing but stared out of the window at the dark sky. Then she sighed and looked at him.

"You said you would help me with the things I have on my mind."

"If I'm able to, of course." He answered waiting for her to continue. Minerva hesitated, she didn't know how to start.

"I want to know what a punishmet I get if I would murder someome because I have all reasons to do it. Am I allowed to study in Azkaban? To read books?" All what Albus had hoped he would hear, that was all he couldn't think of. He was really speechless.

"What… How… I mean… You want to murder someone?" He asked confused.

"Yes. He deserves nothing better than that." Her voice was full of hate.

" Minerva," Albus begann, rising to his feet. But in the next second a beam of light hit him and he fell back on his chair while ropes tied him up to it. Horrified he looked to his student standing in front of him with her wand in the one and the black book in the other hand. One tear made it's way down her cheek and her lips were only a thin line.

"I'm going to kill him and you won't stop me, Professor Dumbledore, or should I say: father?" She said, her whole body shaking as well as her voice while she pointed with the tip of her wand directly at his heart.