...
"When the prison doors are opened, the real dragon will fly out."
Ho Chi Minh
...


"You're quite welcome, dear. I'll send your letter there as soon as possible!"

The muggle woman with the blonde hair and pale blue eyes on the other side of the doorstep gave a small, relieved smile.

"Thank you, Miss Figg," she said and nudged her tall, slightly chubby son.

"Ah, yes, thanks, Ma'am."

"You're quite welcome. Wherever the poor boy is, my owl will find him," the old woman said sweetly and closed the door once they were out of sight.

As soon as the lock snapped, the woman shuddered, waved her hand and it took only seconds before the wrinkled face of Arabella Figg turned into the sharp, cold eyed features of the old man – aka Mr. Wind.

Luckily, he didn't have to play around with the hair colour – after all, the old lady's hair was also streaked with grey. That's the thing about getting old, he thought and glanced at the mirror on the wall, even with magic, there's no way around it. But funnily enough, he didn't mind the common process of aging. The dark grey of his hair suited him far better than the annoying brown colour he wore in his younger days – especially when it turned into honey-brown in the summer months… He hated that. After all, he wasn't one of those goody-two-shoes-boys with nice and neat hair now, was he?

Looking down his now once again male body, he sighed in frustration and another wave of his wand later, the purple dress he wore changed into his usual black robe. He smiled, but soon remembered that this street was full of muggles. So, after a small debate with himself, he considered that a change of wardrobe would be necessary – despite his obvious distaste of everything muggle. Seconds later, he used magic once again and soon stood there almost contently – wearing a pair of black trousers and a grey shirt.

"Now that's better," he mumbled to himself, albeit the disgusting thought of being stuck in the old hag's strangely smelling body was still in his nose.

Shoo-ing away a bunch of – what appeared to be a whole million – of cats that were living in this house, he turned towards the sofa.

Without hesitation, he slapped the sleeping, platinum blond haired man hard on the cheek.

Grey eyes opened; shock evidently written in them.

"What the…" he groaned as he tried to push himself in an upright position.

The old man smirked wickedly.

"Good morning, Lucius. Welcome back in the world of the living."

Glancing down his body, Lucius Malfoy saw the bandage that was neatly wrapped around his otherwise bare chest. At first, he looked positively puzzled, but soon, clarity replaced his confused expression.

Then, a sudden thought hit him and he turned around to stare at the man in front of him; eyes wide as if he had seen a ghost.

"What… aren't you supposed to be…"

The grey haired old wizard raised an eyebrow. "What exactly are you referring to, Lucius? Supposed to be… imprisoned? Dead? Dismembered?" Here he cackled loudly. "Oh Lucius, you should know by now that I have my ways of surprising people."

Lucius opened and closed his eyes a couple of times, but no words came out.

He shook his head and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You know, in times like these, I'm really glad your parents arranged your marriage, boy. You're one hopeless case…"

At the mentioning of his marriage, Lucius' eyes widened.

"Oh, I take it your memory is returning?"

"Narcissa…" he the blond man growled. "She – "

The old wizard forcefully grabbed his chin. "Yes, a woman knocked you out with a simple, bloody spell," he hissed into the blond's ear. "Believe me, if I didn't need your services for my plan, I swear by Salazar Slytherin's grave that I would have let you bleed out without even the smallest bit of hesitation."

Lucius swallowed hard.

"It would have been the only rightful thing to do after being defeated in such an embarrassing way."

Letting go of his throat, Malfoy coughed heavily. "How – How did you manage to – "

"Free myself?" the old man interrupted. "I already told you that I have my ways. And just to make one thing clear, my dear Lucius."

Here he leaned in close so that their noses were almost touching. "In case you screw things up again, I hope it is clear that, under no circumstances, you will – ever – mention our… little encounter today, understood?"

Lucius Malfoy swallowed hard.

"And before you ask," he continued in a harsh voice, "the use of Veritaserum is no excuse."

"But I will have no other choice then but admitting that I've met –"

"That you've met a man called Geralld Wind Jr.," the old man hissed. "That is the name I am currently using, so this should be efficient enough. The most amazing aspect about it is that the name isn't even made up out of the blue, as you should know. Sometimes, even I like to partially stick to the truth every now and then. It makes it even more hilarious to present a truth right in front of everyone's sight without them recognizing it."

Lucius was quiet for a bit. "A nice way to state your loyalty to your former master."

An evil smile appeared on the grey-haired man's face. "Indeed, it is."

Then, without giving the younger man a chance to speak, 'Mr. Wind' continued; Petunia Dursely's letter still wrapped in his sweaty hands.

"You owe me, Lucius, and I just happen to have the perfect task for you. Now listen closely…"


Xemerius yawned heavily as the light of the morning sun shone upon his face. He grumbled something incomprehensible, then turned around on his cot once again in order to fall back asleep. However, luck seemed to have left him, for as soon as he had re-adjusted the covers again, he felt something furry on his cheek. Well, not really furry, but not not-furry either. Sighing, the silver-eyed wizard opened his eyes rather reluctantly – he had never been an early riser. Even after he had quit his job as an Auror – working without Min would not have been the same after all – and taken the offer to become Professor for Muggle Studies at Ilvermorny, he never liked teaching classes in the early morning.

Admittedly, the sight that greeted him was thus far the best method of waking him up that he had ever received! Right there, only inches away from his face, sat the little bat, and gave him – what he assumed to be – a pleading expression.

"Heavens, you really want me to pet you this early in the morning?" he whispered confused, but sat up quietly so that Batty could easily hop onto his lap. "I always thought bats didn't like morning light," he mused as he softly stroked his hand over the animal's skin (or fur… Xem really had no idea what it was called). "You seem to be of a special kind, aren't you, hmm? But don't you dare bit me okay? For all I know you could be a vampire just waiting to take a bite and have a wonderful Xemerius-tasting dinner…"

As a response, Batty only gave a small, affirming sound, which caused the elderly wizard to chuckle.

Lost in his own thoughts, he glanced around the Hall.

Nothing much had changed since the previous evening; how could it after just one night?

The walls still bore marks of the battle and glancing up at the ceiling, Xem felt his heart beating faster. 'These spells won't be holding the ceiling for very much longer' he thought; worry making its way through every single one of his bones.

The situation was less then great, especially considering the many people that were still sleeping peacefully on their cot-like beds.

Xem didn't know many of them. Once upon a time – during the years he worked side by side with Minerva – he had met a lot of witches and wizards… but ever since he moved to the States, things had changed. Naturally, he cared for all of them, but the years in the field taught him that it was easier to only trust the ones he knew. His heart had been through too much already.

Surprisingly enough, it had taken him little time to get to love Hermione and Harry. Well, if he was completely honest with himself, it was not that surprising really. The way Minerva and Arina always spoke about the two, and even Albus, who had always informed him about their latest adventures, were evidence enough for Xem to see that these kids were really good at heart.

Sure enough, the same could be said for their friends.

Glancing around, he spotted Augusta with her grandson – what was his name again? Ah yes, - Neville. Another chuckle escaped him when he thought about how Augusta had changed over the years. From the very annoying first year student, to the crazy, lovable and sarcastic young witch who had fallen pregnant during their sixth year at Hogwarts… My, my, what a scandal that had been!

He shook his head, trying not to laugh out aloud. How Min and Poppy had been able to cover up her pregnancy and all that came along with it was still a mystery to him.

In order not to wake the others, Xem forced his thoughts to go into another direction and his eyes fell upon young Severus, who had his arms around the youngest Black Sister. These two never had it easy, he thought sadly. Narcissa, always overshadowed by her sisters, her uncaring mother, and a father who had never made a secret about the fact that he preferred young witches in his bed…

A shudder ran down his spine as he thought about how much courage it must have taken the blonde witch to submit the evidence that got Cygnus Black imprisoned… Back in the old days, the cruel man had earned himself the position of Lord Grindelwald's successor. Hell, some even called him "Grindelwald Jr." after the old Lord had been defeated. Luckily, he and Grindelwald's other followers – the knights of Walpurgis – had either been caught or forced to live in hiding. Xem secretly hoped they would all rot away in their cells in Azkaban. Or wherever they had been brought – some of them had even been in carried into newly built, completely isolated prison buildings on the island…

Xem shook his head again.

Looking at Narcissa's son sleeping next to her, the Ilvermorny Headmaster managed to smile again. Young Draco might have been misled a couple of times, but with the help of the 'golden trio', as Minerva liked to call them, he would soon find his way onto the right path – and more importantly, stay on it.

Speaking of which, he grinned upon seeing the Weasleys – it was really impossible to deny the obvious relation amongst them… their red hair was a dead give-away.

Bill and Fleur were probably as happy together as Arthur and Molly; George also slept peacefully knowing that his brother Fred was indeed very comfortable with his new ghostly appearance; Ronald, who had managed to finally get his own girl, snored loudly and Ginny was snuggled underneath the covers next to him – she was Xem's personal favourite.

Well, again, that wasn't quite true, since the silver-eyed wizard had always had a soft spot for both Hermione and Harry, too – despite the fact that he had only met the two some time ago. But the way his goddaughter's arms were securely wrapped around the bushy-haired girl's body and the way Minerva did the same with Harry was really a wonderful sight.

A sigh escaped him and Batty looked at him with wide blue eyes. The wizard smiled sadly and continued to pet her.

Involuntarily, images of the horrible battle flooded his mind. So many people had lost their lives, and even a funny-natured wizard such as himself wasn't able to see the good side of that. He knew that outside of this Hall, there was this small, dark, cold room with bodies – with both fighters for good and evil alike resting inside.

And he didn't dare to imagine what it would be like to have a loved one lying there… Most people of his biological family were dead, and the ones that weren't he didn't have contact with anymore.

But as long as the people he cared about – his real 'family' – were safe and sound, Xemerius was considerably happy. Well, or at least as happy as one could be after a war.

Minerva probably felt the same, he thought with a small smile. As long as the people she loved were safe, she couldn't care less about the fact that her secret was now out in the open.

He grinned slightly; perhaps it was a long-needed change for her. The last year hadn't been good for his friends, he was sure of that. The way she moved, spoke, acted… Xemerius had known her long enough that he could tell something was wrong with her, though he couldn't quite place it. Perhaps it was merely the stupid toad and her bloody knife that almost killed her precious daughter… But even by the way she was sleeping at the moment, her eyelids firmly pressed together, her face un-relaxed and her body curled tightly against Albus' as if she was having one of her nightmares again…

Thinking about the pain his best friend was in, the silver-eyed wizard immediately balled his hands into fists; judging by the sound, little Batty didn't like that at all. "Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly.

'Am I dreaming or did this little thing just roll its eyes on me?'

Chuckling, the elderly wizard shook his head and retrieved his wand from underneath his pillow. Three spells later, his teeth were brushed, his hair combed, his old robes neatly folded on his cot and a new, purple robe on his body. When his silver eyes fell upon Horace, who was snoring on his cot, he couldn't help himself but put some jumping, pink unicorns on his pyjamas. He had always been a horrible teacher, and perhaps a little prank would cheer everyone else up, too. With a slight blush he realized that the spell might have been a bit too strong, since Moody's robes, who slept soundly on the next cot, also turned into a bright pink. Well, he'll never find out it was me, Xem thought, grinning.

Putting his wand back in his pocket, he started walking towards the hospital wing; there was some unfinished business he had to straighten out with a certain blonde medi-witch. A conversation that was long overdue and would probably wake old demons from the past.


Minerva didn't know where she was. Everything around her was black, the wind was hauling in the near distance, the air was cold and sending chills down her spine. Everything seemed so odd, but at the same time familiar. A dark alley in between high buildings, rain pouring from the skies as if it was a waterfall.

Suddenly, something moved.

Startled, the witch turned around. The cold air riffled through the thin fabric of her soaked robes; her whole body shook heavily.

Then she spotted the tip of a shadow down on the street. She twirled her head, looked around and her heart skipped a beat.

Between the skyline of buildings towering to both her sides, a grey stone emerged from the bottom of the street and it grew as fast as if it had been hit with an expandable spell; on top of him sat the silhouette of a man.

Shaking, Minerva took a step backwards; hands trembling.

She searched her pockets for her wand – in vain.

Slowly, as if not to draw attention on herself, she started walking further backwards; one step after the other. Left and right. Left and –

Her heart stopped as she felt a large, cold hand on her bare shoulder.

"You really think I'd let you get away this easily?"

The voice, somehow estranged, sounded shallow and cold.

Minerva shivered and backed away from the man. No matter how hard she tried, she wasn't able to see his face, since it was covered by a large, dark hood.

"I – I – please…"

A cackling laugh was heard.

"Now you're pleading?" He stepped closer towards her. Minerva tried to get some distance between them once more, but her body was frozen with fear.

"After everything you've done to me, you're pleading for mercy?"

The ebony haired witch felt tears welling up in her emerald eyes. She moved her feet, only to stumble and fall.

Crashing hard against the asphalt of the alley, a hand reached for her chin and forced her to look up.

His face was still covered in shadows, albeit a pair of dangerously sparkling green eyes was gazing back at her.

A muffled sound escaped Minerva when she saw them.

"I take it now you remember, hmm?" His strong hands applied more pressure on her soft skin and Minerva gave her best not to let her tears fall.

"Do you know where we are?" he hissed into her ear.

The emerald eyed witch didn't dare move. He slapped her against the cheek. Hard.

Minerva swallowed and moved her eyes ever so slightly. The streetlights flickered, the rain still poured down on them, but there, in the distance, were the outlines of an old and dusty house. A tavern – its walls painted in the same dirty moss green as it was years ago.

She closed her eyes for a moment; of course, she remembered this place. It had been haunting her for the last decades; the man next to her always on her mind.

"Your memory isn't as rusty as I thought then," the man continued and pushed her back on the ground. "Quite impressive for an old woman who doesn't waste a single thought on her own flesh and blood."

"I – I am so s-sorry," Minerva stuttered, and the tears spilled from her eyes.

The man laughed wickedly. "Oh really?"

"Please, I – I never wanted – "

He knelt down in front of her now, pressing a sharp knife to her throat; on his finger he wore an old and ancient ring that was sparkling in the faint moonlight – a crest was to be seen on it.

"You never wanted what, hmm?" he whispered in a hoarse voice. "You never wanted to have me in the first place? Or you never wanted to give me away?"

Minerva started sobbing. "Please, William, I never – "

She felt the knife tightening against her throat. "Don't call me that," he hissed. "You lost the right to call me by that name when you gave me up."

His long fingers wrapped around her chin again. "Remember, you never wanted me, Mother."

This was her final string. She broke down and cried, albeit trying to keep her breathing under control.

"I – I am so s-sorry," she repeated between sobs, "I – I didn't… Please, I – "

She felt drops of blood slowly running down her throat as he leaned his face closer to hers. "Your begging is in vain, Mother. You should have thought about the consequences before you gave away your only son. There is no way I will ever forgive you for what you did."

By now her whole body was shaking. She had feared this moment and re-lived it, over and over again, with the same result: Her boy would never forgive her.

"Like a dragon I will haunt you for the rest of your life," he continued and cut the knife deeper into her soft, ivory flesh. "I've grown up to be just like my father. Just like you always feared I would, Mother."

This said, he forced the weapon deeper into her skin and watched her bleed. Her vision blurred, but the pain was nothing compared to the feeling of guilt that was slowly suffocating her. She tossed and turned, trying to speak to him, begging him for mercy, for forgiveness, and suddenly –-

.

"MINERVA!"

"Mum!"

"Professor!"

"Minnie!"

"Minerva Esmeralda McGonagall!"

Ariana watched as her mother instantly opened her eyes. Shock, fear and panic were plainly written in them and it almost broke the witch's heart to see her mother in such a state.

She looked positively haunted, her breathing was still shallow, her forehead a bit sweaty and her whole body was still shaking terribly.

Completely dizzy and disorientated, the emerald eyed witch glanced around. When she recognized the people around her, she tried to push herself in an upright position. Her hair was a mess and strands of ebony were tangling down her shoulders in loose curls.

Arina reached out to help her, but as soon as she touched her mother, the elderly witch flinched away.

Rina's eyes widened and she exchanged a glance with her father, who was – like Harry – sitting next to the trembling witch on the cot.

"Min, it's alright," he whispered, his voice soft and reassuringly.

"What…?"

It seemed like the transfiguration mistress didn't quite know where to start. Arina knew that her mother had never been a person who liked attention very much and the many people crowded around her probably didn't help, but when the emerald eyed witch had started tossing and turning on her cot, Arina as well as her father, Harry, Hermione and Dan had been woken up.

The blue-eyed witch was aware of the fact that her mother had nightmares more often than she would like to admit, but it had been some time since they had been this bad. She had screamed and whimpered in her sleep – which was the reason Arina had woken up in the first place.

When the young woman had tried to reach her, she stumbled rather unskilfully over another one of the cots; waking Augusta and Rolanda in the process.

Being best friends with her mother for years, the two older witches had immediately guessed what was going on with their friend.

Arina had also expected to immediately see Xem by the Deputy's side, but for some reason, his cot was empty – which was quite surprising since her Godfather usually wasn't an early riser.

The blue-eyed witch had to pull herself together when a memory filled her mind… a time when she had had a sleepover at her Godfather's and walked into his room at 6 o'clock in the morning, telling him that she was bored and wanted to play with him… his face had been priceless.

But soon, reality brought her back – or rather her mother's shaky voice.

"A nightmare," Minerva whispered as realisation dawned upon her. It was a statement more than a question, but her father nodded nonetheless.

Arina watched as her mother closed her eyes once again to sigh. She could tell that something, whatever she had dreamed about, was bothering her.

Then the elderly witch looked around properly for the first time and noticed the rumpled sheets all around her and the small pillow that was laying on the floor. She turned her head to look at her husband. The way he looked at her with his worried, tired and questioning blue eyes was answer enough.

"I woke you up," she said, clearly embarrassed as she also turned to face Harry.

Arina noticed that her Godson clearly didn't care about that; but like everyone else he seemed to be extremely worried about her.

But how was he supposed to know that the strong Scottish witch was plagued by nightmares constantly?

And as if he had read her thoughts, Harry smiled softly and reached out to take his Professor's hand in his own.

Arina smiled when she didn't flinch this time around.

"It's fine," Harry said reassuringly, "we were just worried about you."

The blue-eyed witch rolled her eyes as her mother mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Well, Mr. Potter – "

"Harry, please."

Rolanda Hooch laughed. "Well, maybe Harry doesn't mind. But I certainly do," the yellow-eyed witch with the short hair said accusingly, but the goofy grin that was playing around the corners of her lips gave her away. "Contrary to you, Min, I need to have my beauty sleep in order to prevent these ugly wrinkles from covering my lovely face."

Aidan chuckled, though Arina could tell that he didn't like the idea of the Scottish witch having those heavy nightmares either. He watched her, albeit scratching the ridge of his nose – Aidan always did that when he tried to figure out one of his more serious cases at the hospital.

"I'm sorry, Rolanda," her mother replied dryly, a bit of her former self showing again, "next time, I shall try to wake you at a more appropriate time."

.

Hermione sighed in relief at hearing the elderly witch throwing back one of her characteristically sarcastic answer at her long-time friend.

It released some of the tension that had formed earlier. The hazel eyed witch wasn't used to seeing this usually strong witch sobbing and pleading in her sleep.

Whatever she had dreamed about, it must have been horrible.

Professor Dumbledore was also glancing at his wife; his concern written all over his face.

But luckily, the transfiguration mistress seemed to have calmed down a bit again. She was now opening what was left of her French braid and put her hair up in a – really lovely – messy bun.

Then she patted Harry on the shoulder, an apologetic expression on her face. "Again, I'm really sorry. Let's hope we'll be able to change these sleeping arrangements soon. I would rather not have you injured just because I'm stirring in my sleep."

Harry smiled at her. "Well, apart from that, I haven't slept that good in years."

Surprise flashed over her face before she smiled back at him, relieved.

"But speaking of sleeping arrangements," Aberforth Dumbledore's unexpected voice sounded from behind them, "as nice as it was to have a sleepover in the good ol' Hall here, that ceiling looks more than a bit instable."

Augusta and Rolanda's faces stared at the younger Dumbledore in surprise.

"Since when are you an early riser?" Augusta asked.

He pointed towards the transfiguration mistress. "She woke me up," he said and quickly added, "no offence, Minerva. I don't sleep very well either these days. I just thought you've got enough people standin' around ya."

To Hermione's surprise, the ebony haired witch nodded thankfully.

"Well, he does have a point," Aidan added as he waved his hand to draw the attention to all the remaining people that were still sound asleep in the Hall – including the Weasleys, Luna, Neville, Sn – Severus, Narcissa and Draco.

"Well, good idea," Rolanda raised an eyebrow towards Abe, "but you have a place to stay if I'm not mistaken."

The bearded man shrugged rather uncomfortably. "The pub burned down last night."

Hermione nodded unconsciously. Yes, she remembered the Death Eaters storming Hogsmead and sending spells and curses everywhere. No wonder something caught on fire.

"As far as I know, Molly mentioned that the Burrow isn't in the best of conditions either, but fixable," her aunt Arina added thoughtfully.

Professor McGonagall, still leaning against Harry, let her emerald green eyes wander over the Hall and its people.

"Well, I agree with Aberforth – "

"That's a first – "

" – that the people cannot stay here for very much longer," she finished, skilfully ignoring her brother-in-law.

Augusta's olive eyes sparkled. "What do you have in mind, Min?"

The emerald eyed witch exchanged a look with her husband, who nodded slightly. Hermione could only smile at the sight.

"It is to be assumed that most of the houses are either completely ruined or momentarily unusable," Professor Dumbledore explained.

Aberforth rolled his eyes. "You don't say?"

The ebony haired witch ignored her brother-in-law once more. "Hogwarts' grounds are wide enough for emergency tents to be set up. Once the wards are renewed and strengthened, it should be as safe as in here."

Harry glanced at the witch excitedly. "You mean tents like the ones used during the Quidditch World-Cup?"

Professor McGonagall nodded with a smirk. "Exactly, Harry."

Rolanda on the other hand didn't really like the idea. "A tent? You expect me to go camping with all these people I barely know?"

This time, it was Augusta who replied. "First of all, I doubt it will only be one single tent," here she waited for the emerald eyed witch to nod, which she did. "Second of all, since your apartment has also been ruined, I'm sure you should appreciate any place to stay, Ro."

The quidditch instructor sighed disappointedly. "I hate tents."

Hermione noticed how this time Professor Dumbledore met his wife's eyes. They seemed to have some sort of unspoken conversation going on before the witch spoke up again.

"I'm sure that a lot of people would like to stay on the grounds despite having an untouched home somewhere, but – "

"Why would they want that?"

"Because, Rolanda, Hogwarts gives people a feeling of safety," the now short-bearded Headmaster explained. "But you're right, the tents – even several ones of them – will be filled to a maximum, then."

"Great."

Hermione almost laughed when she saw the way the emerald eyed witch rolled her eyes.

"Ro, you won't have to sleep in a tent."

Yellow eyes sparkled in surprise. "I don't?"

Minerva smiled kindly. Then she turned to face Harry and Hermione as well as the other people around her.

"Of course, I will have to talk with Molly about her plans first, but since McGonagall Manor has more than enough rooms, I would invite you to stay there until everything goes back to normal," she offered. "Oh, and remind me to extend the offer to Severus and Narcissa as well…"

Rolanda and Augusta cheered happily and high-fived each other.

"Are you sure you want to put up with these two in your house as well as bunch of kids?" Aberforth grumbled, though jealousy was clearly audible in his voice.

Minerva raised an eyebrow, but Hermione assumed that she had something up her sleeves.

"Well, I'm about to put up with you as well, Aberforth," she replied, but the corners of her mouth twitched.

The stunning and surprised look in the younger Dumbledore's eyes was something Hermione wouldn't quite forget easily. She really had to pull herself together in order not to start giggling.

From the sounds of it, Arina next to her had the same problem.

Abe stared at his brother, then at his sister-in-law with wide blue eyes. "You're inviting me to stay at your house?"

The couple nodded.

"After everything that happened?"

They nodded again.

The bearded man looked positively stunned. Then he smiled sincerely and nodded. "Thank you."

The Headmaster nodded as well. "Let's see if we can mend some fences, brother. I think Ana would like that."

Aberforth nodded, but pointed with a large smile on his lips towards the snoring Horace Slughorn next to them. "Just promise me to not put me in girlish unicorn-pyjamas," he cackled and upon realizing the old potion master's choice of night-wear, they all broke into laughter. "I mean, don't get me wrong, they do look rather adorable on Horace and they soften Alastor's features immensely, but I still have bits and pieces left of my dignity."

This said, people started chattering again – not too loudly, of course, since a lot of people were still sleeping.

"I hope you know that the same offer stands for the two of you, my dears?" Professor McGonagall spoke once again, this time directly to Harry and Hermione.

The hazel-eyed witch was stunned for a moment. She glanced at Harry, and the equally surprised expression told her that she had not imagined things.

Arina nudged her softly, albeit playing with Ariana Dumbledore's phoenix necklace. "That is, of course, only if the two of you want." She faced both Harry and Hermione. "I can understand if you don't – "

Harry beat her to answering. "I'd love to stay with you. Thank you," he replied and smiled at both his godmother and the emerald eyed Professor, before he hugged the latter.

Hermione beamed at them and mirrored Harry's actions, but embraced Arina instead.

Her aunt smiled and tightened her arms around her. "You're both very welcome, my loves."


"Urgh," Rolanda cursed as she made her way down to the kitchen with Augusta and Aberforth, "why do I have to jump over rocks and walk through mud and dirt while others are still sound asleep in the Great Hall?"

Aberfroth gave a chuckle. "Aren't you hungry?"

Augusta rolled her olive-coloured eyes. "Of course, she is."

"Well, yes, I am, but I'm also tired!"

The wizard shook his head in amusement and patted the yellow-eyed witch softly on the shoulder. "What's the saying? You've got to die one death."

This time, Rolanda sighed. "You sound like your brother."

He shrugged. "If the shoe fits. But seriously, let's just hope some of the elves are still down there to make breakfast. I'm starving."


Albus stretched out his arm and helped his wife climb over the last rock that had been blocking their way. Once she stood on her feet again, he gently put his strong arm around her waist and guided her through the entrance doors onto the wild, green fields of Hogwarts. The air was still foggy this early in the morning, but when he let his gaze wander he spotted the small streaks of the sun that was starting to warm and dry the grass.

Together, they walked past the whooping willow; the silence between them was peaceful and Albus sucked in the fresh morning air.

"What's on your mind, Tabby?" he asked after having watched his wife for some time.

They sat down on a small bench and she leaned into his embrace. "I missed you," the witch admitted in a soft whisper and buried her head in the crook of his neck.

The old wizard smiled softly and brushed his fingers through her hair.

He had missed her, too. More than words could ever describe. He had missed everything about her – her lovely emerald eyes, the smile she put on only for him, the way it felt when her body was snuggled against his own, waking up next to her…

And yet, ever since she woke up a couple of minutes earlier, Albus was worried about her. Sure, she had had nightmares before – Minerva's work as an Auror didn't go by without leaving the one or other invisible scar – but the way her body trembled, how she had whimpered and cried out in her sleep caused him to think about the reason for her nightmare. He could only guess, but unless Minerva told him, they were, of course, nothing more than guesses.

But he would give her the time she needed. He had made that mistake once; pressured her into telling him things when she wasn't ready, and it only made matters worse.

"I think that's a good place to set up the tent," Albus said instead, trying to get her mind into thinking about something trivial.

He felt how she moved her head, taking in everything around her.

"I would assist in setting it up, but I'm afraid Aidan would have my head for it if I used magic," Minerva mumbled half-heartedly.

Despite himself, Albus gave a soft chuckle. "I didn't plan on involving you. But I'm glad to hear it anyway."

She nudged him lovingly into the stomach. In return, he kissed her softly on the forehead.

"I missed you, too," he whispered into her ear; his voice unnaturally emotional.


When Draco woke up, he found himself in a rather unusual position. His mother had not wrapped her arms around him ever since he started Hogwarts. Sure enough, he would never admit it, but he enjoyed it immensely. The feeling of protection and safety was something he had missed terribly during the last couple of years, but being a Death Eater, he was not allowed to show any kind of emotion. They were all trained to be soulless and heartless fighters, not questioning the purposes and sacrifices that needed to be made in order to achieve a high position in the Dark Lord's inner circle.

Thinking about it now, Draco might have been able to walk on a different path, had he not been such a coward.

Getting up as quietly as possible so he wouldn't wake his mother and his godfather, Draco walked towards one of the windows in the hall. It was broken, but offered the chance to glance over the Black Lake. It was a much needed distraction, and gave him the opportunity to think about what happened during the last couple of hours.

The battle, the victory, the amazing offer of peace Pott- Harry made, being forgiven by Professor McGonagall… the chance to start his life afresh.

And as he let his gaze wander over the grounds, he swore to himself that he would not waste this chance. The chance to perhaps find happiness after all.

"Is this seat taken?"

Startled by the soft, but unexpected voice, Draco turned around on his spot on the windowsill and blinked.

In front of him stood a young woman and he couldn't quite get rid of the idea that he had already seen her before. Her face was slim with high cheekbones, and like many others, she too, bore scars and scratches of the recent battle. Her aura was strong, but at the same time she seemed slim and fragile. There was also something rather mysterious about her that he couldn't quite grasp.

When she looked at him with a raised eyebrow, Draco realised that he had yet to give an answer. "Erm, yes, sure, sit if you really want to."

"Is there a reason I wouldn't want to sit next to you, Draco?"

The partly sassy, partly mischievous way she spoke caused the corners of his lips to turn upwards.

"You know who I am, that should be reason enough, don't you think?"

The only response she gave was a lovely smirk and soon enough, she elegantly jumped up and joined him.

For some reason, Draco couldn't stop staring at her stunning red lips. She was a real beauty – long, hazel brown hair that was cut just below the collar bone, deep amber eyes and a smile that almost knocked the breath out of him.

"You don't remember me, do you?"

Involuntary, Draco winced, and in doing so gave himself away. With an apologetic smile, he shrugged his shoulders.

"My name's Astoria," the young woman said and twirled a strand of hazel hair around her delicately slim fingers, "Astoria Greengrass."


Aidan tired his best to keep his facial expression as neutral as possible. Although his wife was still cuddling with both Harry and Hermione, tickling them occasionally and making both of them laugh, he knew that she only put on the 'happy-face'.

Of course, she loved spending time with the young adults – especially since they had to be so careful in the past – but he lived with her long enough to notice the lingering, worrysome glances she shot towards him ever since Minerva and Albus had left the hall.

After all, Arina had always been a good judge of character.

Aidan sighed. He didn't like to keep the truth from her. But he was a healer, and he took an oath to keep his patients' secrets. He loved his job, but he had never considered that there would be the case of having to treat his own mother-in-law without telling anyone about it. But he had made a promise; even though Arina would eventually curse him into the next century when she found out about her mother's disease.

For a moment, he thought back to the time when she had first approached him, asking for a medical consult. Considering the fact that one usually had to physically force her into a hospital, it should have been a clear sign that something was seriously wrong with her…

Dan sat at his desk, sorting out some papers from the last emergency operation when he heard a soft knock at the door.

"It's open," he called, without looking up.

He heard the door opening. "Excuse me, Dr. Gold – "

Aidan laughed. "How many times have I told you to call me by my first time, Dorothy?"

The elderly head-nurse blushed a bright crimson that stood in deep contrast with her usually pale face and grey hair. "I keep trying, Dan. Though back in my times, it was only respectful to call a brilliant surgeon and healer by his title."

The surgeon winked her into the room. "Well, times change. Otherwise, I would have to call you Head-Nurse Holloway all the time, wouldn't I?"

"Touché."

Dan smiled at the old lady. "Now, I believe there was a reason for your visit, Doro?"

Dorothy's eyes widened. "Oh, yes, yes! I was rather surprised that you've scheduled a council for a Saturday morning– "

His eyebrow shot into his hairline, confused. "Actuallly, I didn't – "

"But well," the Headnurse continued, ignoring his input completely, "I take it Minerva can't afford to be absent during a weekdays, so – "

Now she got Dan's complete attention. "Hold on. Minerva McGonagall?"

It was Dorothy's turn to raise an eyebrow and she looked at him with the same expression when she talked to a younger, unexperienced nurse. "Do you know another Minerva working at Hogwarts, Adian?"

The healer shook his head. "Erm, well, do send her in."

With an amused expression, the old nurse left and a couple of minutes later his mother-in-law re-entered the office.

She smiled at him gratefully when she slowly sat down on the chair in front of his desk.

She looked tired and pale, with bags underneath her clouded emerald eyes and from the way she moved he could tell that her body was aching. Instantly, he knew that the hint of a smile she wore on her face was carefully chosen in order to cover her obvious discomfort.

"Thanks for seeing me," she said honestly.

Dan sat up straight in his chair. "You must be in a hell of a lot pain, of course I'm seeing you, Minerva."

The ebony-haired witch raised an eyebrow. "Now why would you assume – "

"Usually, people have to force you to even go down to the hospital wing and see Poppy," Dan stated and set down his pen. "You wouldn't be here if it wasn't serious."

To his surprise, the usually sarcastic and witty witch he had grown to love didn't disagree. She only sighed.

"I – I haven't been feeling too well lately," she admitted, and it was more than Dan thought he'd ever hear from her.

"Go on," he encouraged her, although the bad feeling he had in his stomach grew with each passing second. "I'm here to help."

The deputy head of Hogwarts took a deep breath and started fidgeting with the invisible wedding band she wore hidden on her fingers.

"I have trouble concentrating," she started without looking at him. "I feel tired and distracted. Simply spells keep going wrong… I try to conceal it every time it happens in class… Merlin knows what happens when the students find out their Professor isn't capable of performing spells."

Dan scribbled everything down on a random piece of paper. When she stopped talking, he looked up.

"Anything else?" he asked, clearly worried.

She shook her head slowly. "It's probably nothing – "

"Tell me anyway."

She swallowed.

"Sometimes," the elderly witch continued in a low voice, "after a long day, I feel dizzy – nauseous even. And then, there are these cramps…"

Dan gave her a stern look. "That's not nothing, Minerva," he scolded her.

She was about to protest, but he only held up his hand. "Tell me more about these cramps. Are they occurring in a more constant way or rather unfrequently?"

"Unfrequently," she answered and tightened her green robes around her body. "Sharp, and unexpected. Usually, it doesn't last longer than some mere seconds…"

Dan bit his lip. "Usually," he concluded. "What's changed?"

She sighed again. "I – I feel like the period is getting longer," she mumbles. "So far, I had little problems hiding it from students… but during the last couple of weeks it got harder to – "

This got his attention.

"Hold on," Dan said and stared into her tired emerald eyes. "You've had this pain for weeks?"

The deputy Headmistress nodded uncomfortably.

"This is worse than I thought," the Chief of Surgery mumbled quietly to himself. He was about to ask why she didn't come sooner, but stopped because he already knew the answer.

His mother-in-law hated hospitals.

Arina had told him about it a couple of years into their relationship. She told him how her parents, Apollo and Rose McGonagall, had first been terribly injured in an ambush and then died after they had succumbed to their injuries. How her little sister Athena, had suffered a similar fate and the fact that Arina's twin sister, Aurora, had died in the same hospital offered reason enough for the Scottish witch to dislike – and to a certain amount distrust – this place.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the ebony-haired witch.

"Was there anything out of the ordinary that happened to you?" he asked and got himself a second piece of paper. "A battle? A duel? A stray spell that might have hit you?"

The witch seemed to think for a moment, but eventually, she shook her head. "No, not that I could think of. I hit my head on my desk when I picked up the feather I had dropped, and I have a small cut on my hand, but that's about it."

Dan put on a pair of gloves, then reached out for her hand, pulled his mother-in-law's leather-glove and examined the wound more closely. It was quite deep, the skin rippled by the blade of a blunt knife, and a bit too hot for his liking.

"I'll have to take a blood sample as well as one from your wound here."

He had expected a protest from the witch, but the fact that she only gave him a small, grateful smile showed him that she was indeed in a lot of pain.

Waving his wand, he levitated his medical equipment over to his desk and started working.

WOOOSH!

The sound of shattered glass brought Aidan back from his daydreaming.

"What in Merlin's name…" he heard his wife curse as she held up a two owls at the same time. One of them was tall and plump, but looked rather young. The other one was small, skinny and old.

Hermione and Harry started laughing, and even the young surgeon had to admit that the sight Arina – covered in feathers – was rather hilarious.

"Are you alright, Rina?" Dan asked, trying not to smile too much.

The blue-eyed witch coughed a bit and spit out some feathers, but nodded. "Yes, though it seems these owls have mistaken me for the owlery."

Shaking her head, she held up two letters.

To Dan's surprise, she handed one to him and the other one to Harry.

Shrugging, Harry and Dan looked at each other before opening their letters.

The healer had to smirk slightly when he caught a glimpse at the handwriting.

Dr. Aidan Gold
Somewhere in the wizarding world
I doubt they have a zip-code there, do you?

Arina, who had moved from her spot next to Harry and Hermione, looked over his shoulder and started laughing when she read the heading.

"Is this from whom I think it is?" she asked, and put her arms lovingly around his neck.

He kissed her hand before he leaned back against her body. "It sure is," he smiled and handed her the letter.

The ebony-haired witch let her fingers wander over the wax seal with the "W" pressed into it, before she ripped it open.

Her lips twitched upwards when she skimmed over the contents. "Only Liam would write something like this. He even pressed the 'W' that is engraved in his ring into the wax."

At the mentioning of his name, Hermione looked up.

"That's from my dad?" she asked, hope and excitement in her voice.

Both Arina and Aidan nodded happily. "Yes," Arina said, "luckily the stubborn man drank Dan's memory potion."

Harry laughed. "You call someone stubborn, A? People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

Arina faked confusion. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Potter," she answered in her best teacher voice and even Dan, who had by now spent so much time with both his wife and Minerva, had to admit that in times like these, she resembled her mother more than ever.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked eagerly, and for a moment, she wasn't the 17-year-old adult that had lived through a war, but a young woman who missed her parents.

"Liam and Jean boarded an aircraft from Sidney to London," Arina answered their niece.

Hermione's eyes lit up.

"I suggest we pick them up when they arrive at the airport," Dan replied and looked at his wife and the young adults.

The bushy haired witch nodded enthusiastically.

"It will still take some time, so if you don't mind, we could first visit Max and pick up Arielle," Arina said, though it sounded more like a question.

Hermione's smile widened – if possible – even more. "Max? As in Grandpa Max?"

Aidan nodded, smiling. "The one and only."

"I can't wait to meet him," sounded a familiar voice from behind.

Dan turned and saw Ron and Ginny coming towards them. He smiled when the red-head went straight over to his girlfriend and gave her a kiss, before he sat down next to her – looking rather sheepishly.

Ginny on the other hand sat down on Harry's lap.

"Glad to see you awake," Harry said and kissed his girlfriend lovingly.

Dan smiled, and when he caught a glimpse of his wife, who was looking at the 'children' sweetly, his heart warmed up. It was a relief to Arina so happy – though he knew that she'd be even happier when she'd be re-united with their own daughter again. Hell, he missed his Arielle a lot and he knew that Arina did, too.

"Well, you're more than welcome to tag along, Ron," Arina offered, "so are you, Harry."

Harry smiled, but shook his head. "I might meet you there. Max doesn't live too far from Little Whinging, does he?"

Everyone looked at him confused, but it was Ginny who eventually asked, "You want to go to Little Whinging?"

Harry held up his own letter and shrugged. "That one's from Aunt Petunia," he spoke and ignored his godmother's eye-roll. "I have no idea how she managed to get a magical owl, but well… She said she would like to talk… and show me things… mend some fences."

"Mend some fences?" Ron asked suspiciously. "Mate, this woman forced you to life in a bloody cupboard for Merlin knows how many years!"

"I know," Harry said reluctantly, and Dan saw that a shiver ran down his spine. "She wrote that, too, and that 'she knows that I probably don't want to ever see her again'- "

Arina snorted. "Didn't think Petunia had that much good sense left in her."

Dan looked at her and rolled his eyes. She only shrugged.

It was Ginny, who spoke up again. "If you want to go, Harry, I'll come with you," she offered and placed her hand in his. "If all hell breaks loose, you've got someone with you that won't hesitate to punch your Aunt in the face."


A couple of corridors away, Xem took one step after another, albeit trying to avoid falling over the many bricks and rocks that barricaded the way to the Greenhouse – or what was left of it. The damage done during the last couple of hours was more severe than he had ever seen – not even during the first war against he-who-is-now-dead. The glass that once protected the plants and herbs was shattered and spread on the grounds, but the silvery eyed wizard didn't hesitate and slipped through the broken door and entered.

He didn't have to search very long until he spotted the pale blonde medi-witch. She stood at the back of the room, next to a plant he couldn't quite identify. Slipping his hands into his pocket, he made sure that Batty was still safe and sound before he approached his long-time-friend.

She had dark circles underneath her eyes as if she hadn't slept at all. She seemed to be lost in her own thoughts for she cut the same plant, over and over again at the exact same place.

In order to get it over as soon as possible, Xemerius coughed and spoke her name to get her attention. "Poppy."

Startled, the witch jumped around and dropped the pair of scissors she had held in her hands. Her light blue eyes looked terrified and she fumbled in her lavender robes for her wand.

When she finally spotted her old friend, she visibly relaxed. "By Merlin's beard, Xem! What are you doing here?"

He stepped towards her and touched one of the trees casually. "I could ask you the same question."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm trying to pick what's left of the herbs. What does it look like?"

Xem bit his lip before he answered. "Well, it looks like you're trying to avoid your best friend."

In the way Poppy's eyes widened, the Ilvermorny Headmaster could see that he had cut straight to the point – even though she was pretty good at steeling her features to look innocent.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Xem."

"Oh really?" he asked and closed the distance until he stood right in front of her. He raised his eyebrow and looked at her with a serious and angry face. "I think you know damn well what I'm talking about."

The medi-witch turned away and busied herself with another plant, avoiding his eyes.

"You're avoiding Minerva," Xem continued because he knew that she was still listening to him. "You're afraid that the memories in the Mablomi will somehow bring up the truth."

Finally, Poppy turned, tears shimmering in her eyes.

"What I do or won't do is none of your concern, Xemerius," she snapped and pushed him towards the exit.

Even though Xem had never been the tallest or strongest of wizards, it was still enough to resist the medi-witch. He reached out and grabbed her wrist softly.

Then his silver eyes glared at her. "It very well is my concern, Poppy," he snapped back. "I've kept your secret all those years ago. I kept the truth from Minerva for far too long."

Poppy titled her head. "What are you implying?"

Xem took a deep breath. "We both know that she will find out sooner or later. And as a friend, I strongly advise you to admit what happened all those years ago."

The medi-witch swallowed hard. "Xem – "

"No, either you tell Minerva, or I will," the wizard said. "It's your choice. The dragons of the past won't sleep forever. Min will find out sooner or later and I'd rather tell her personally. She deserves to know what really happened to Aurora."


Hello my lovely readers!

I know, I've been gone for ages! And there's no real excuse for it... just real life hunting me down and burrying me underneath loads of work for University :(

Additionally, I re-wrote this chapter so many times... I'm still not completely satisfied with it... but I hope that when I get it out, the next one will be easier to write (or I fear Minerva will come after me and hex me into the next century if I keep you guys waiting for so long ever again!)

Again, thank you all so so much for fav/following the story! I doubt I'd be very motivated to continue without your support!

Thanks also to JohninNH, Myserious Misty, Soulless Huntress, Rana ksiniczka, McGonagallFan, MissWing91, ProfessorMMAD and all the Guests for leaving so lovely reviews! *_* (Vielen Dank auch an meine(n) deutsche(n) Leser(in)! Hat mich sehr gefreut!)

But now, back to the story! I hope you like it!

All the best,

Lexi


Written for HSWW (challenges & assignments) | The 365 day prompt challenge | 144. Genre – Family

Written for HSWW (challenges & assignments) | The insane houses competition | 18. Character – Albus Dumbledore

Written for HSWW (challenges & assignments) | 2018 Yearly Event | Fanfiction resolution challenge | a fic set in Trio era

Words: 9,231