CHAPTER TWO

Minerva McGonagall glanced over at Severus, sitting at the Head Table, before moving over to the door leading to the antechamber where the new crop of first year students were waiting. He offered a brief nod of encouragement, seeming to know that in her own way, she was actually nervous about this particular group. It included Harry Potter, Siobhan Prince, Neville Longbottom, and Draco Malfoy. The whole of the Wizarding world was a bit nervous about the proverbial homecoming of Harry Potter, although for Severus and Minerva, it was more personal. Siobhan, or rather Hermione Granger as she'd be called here, was magically bound to Minerva and her family. Minerva very much prided herself on her ability to keep a professional boundary between herself and her students, and she wasn't sure she would be able to with Siobhan. There was always going to be a certain magic drawing them together; a magic which called them parts of the same whole.

Her issues with young Misters Longbottom and Malfoy were related to the last war, and on opposite ends of the spectrum. She had been on the team meant to rescue Frank and Alice Longbottom, and to this day she regretted not getting there soon enough to spare them from their horrible fate. The guilt that regret created was all the more vivid when face to face with their surviving son. Malfoy, on the other hand, was the son of Death Eater Lucius Malfoy. Oh, but of course the senior Malfoy had claimed the Imperius defense for his actions during the war, but Minerva knew better. She had seen her brother Malcolm's memories of the night Lucius had come to their home in Scotland, murdering his wife Jaqueline before Minerva's arrival a little too late forced his retreat. She wanted to think she was better than to think ill of the son for the sins of the father, but looking now at a boy who was the spitting image of Lucius, it was hard not to feel strongly inclined to hit an eleven year old boy with a Rapier hex.

"I am Professor McGonagall," she greeted the group of eleven year olds, taking note as one pair of eyes snapped in her direction at once, and trying not to let herself get lost in the dark brown eyes that Siobhan Prince shared with her elder brother. She tore her eyes away from the small brunette who would one day marry into her family, and continued speaking. "In a moment, you will enter the Great Hall, and when I call your name you will come forward and be sorted into your House. At Hogwarts, your House is like your family; any achievements will earn your House points, and any rulebreaking will lose points."

"Trevor!"

Minerva looked down to see Neville Longbottom, the spitting image of his mother in nearly every way. Of course, it was his father before him who'd come to Hogwarts with a pet toad - his called Lurch - a pet which Frank was frequently misplacing as well. It was odd, really, to be seeing the children of former students, to be witnessing characteristics in them that they likely didn't even realize they'd inherited from their parents. She wondered if Augusta had shared with Neville that Frank had come to Hogwarts with a Toad, or if it had been the boy's natural choice to purchase one.

"This way," she said after a moment of reflection, pointedly ignoring the Malfoy boy as he attempted to shove his way to the front of the line. Blond hair, pointed chin, and narrow, beady eyes; he couldn't be anyone else.

Name after name was called, and for each of the four she had her eye on, the Sorting was as predicted, although Harry's took long enough she wondered if he was a Hatstall. Siobhan went to Gryffindor, as did Neville, and the Malfoy boy went to Slytherin. Then after some deliberation, Harry Potter also went to Gryffindor. Knowing what she knew, she wondered if the boy had been considered seriously for Slytherin. She was glad he'd ended up in his mother's old House, in the end; she certainly didn't think ill of Slytherins in general, but she'd have hated for poor Harry to be stuck sharing a dorm with Malfoy, as well as Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. She'd not even had Misters Crabbe and Goyle in a class yet and she could already tell they didn't have five brain cells between the pair of them.

After the Sorting and the Feast, the students returned to dorms to settle in for the evening, and Minerva stopped in to see Severus before heading to Gryffindor Tower to check on the cubs.

"You almost missed me," he said. "I was just about to head to the Slytherin dorms to ensure that Draco Malfoy hasn't tried taking over the whole of the House yet. Arrogant little shite."

Minerva laughed a little. "That would be a very Malfoy thing to do. I believe his father attempted to implement Democracy and issue a vote for Head of Slytherin House during his fifth or sixth year, and poor Horace had to explain that true democracy involved far less buying of votes and far more campaigning. He also had to break it to Lucius that typically one has to be of age to vote in any case."

Severus laughed. "How did I miss this?"

"I'd have to cross reference Poppy's records to be certain, but I'd imagine you were in the Hospital Wing thanks to some shenanigans of Black and Potter's. If you were even here yet. That may have happened the year before you arrived."

He growled. "Remind me, again, why I assisted in the propagation of the Potter line?"

"Lily asked you to."

"Ah, that was it," he sighed. "That all aside and speaking of stubborn girls, how did your first meaning with Siobhan go?"

"It was hardly a meeting, Severus," Minerva bristled. "We didn't speak to one another, and I fail to see why you're so anxious about us meeting in any case. It's not like she's going to pick me to marry when she comes of age. Aside from the fact that I'm a woman and odds are she's not inclined that way, I'm decades her senior and there are seven Rosses between Malcolm and Robert's children that would be age appropriate, not to mention Mal himself if she was barmy enough to go for an older Wizard."

He frowned. "I agree it's unlikely, but I also know my sister. If there's a way to be ornery, she'll go that route. Hopefully, that's just the child in her and by the time her choice must be made she'll have grown out of that nonsense, and then I'm worrying for nothing. That said, please understand Minerva that I'm a Slytherin and fundamentally it is just my nature to consider every case scenario, no matter how unlikely, and the fact remains that while she has every reason to choose anyone but you, sometimes reason just fails, especially where Gryffindors are concerned."

"You're barking mad," Minerva replied, "and I must be going. I'm off to Gryffindor Tower to make sure all the new students are settling in alright. I will be speaking to Siobhan. Any message you'd like me to pass on while I'm there?"

"Tell her if she falls asleep in class because she's up all night reading, I will give her an actual detention," he said with a smirk.

"You won't cut her any slack at all, will you?" she asked.

"Not a chance," Severus replied. "I've been watching Mother baby her for almost twelve years. It's about time she learned a bit about real life and the harsh realities therein."

Minerva laughed at her colleague and then left, transforming into her Animagus form to make quick work of speeding through the now dark corridors. The night vision and agility of her alter ego was a boon on winding staircases and trick steps and lightless spaces of the increasingly deserted castle. When she reached the base of Gryffindor Tower, she transformed back into her human form, and with a quietly uttered password, she let herself into the Common Room.

"Weasley," she greeted the fifth year Percy, still seated in front of the fireplace hunched over a book.

"I'll be done in fifteen minutes, Professor," he said, barely looking up. "The firsties are in bed, and Miss Green and I made sure their belongings all made it up. The rest of the Gryffindors are either in bed or on their way."

"Thank you," she replied, appreciating the Prefects' efforts. "I'll just go check on the first years myself, briefly, and then I'll be out of your hair for the evening. I expect you to be in your dorm as well by the time I get back down here."

"Yes ma'am," he muttered, turning a page as he flicked his wand and twisted it slightly, casting a non verbal alarm clock charm.

Minerva made her way up to the boys' dorm first, unsurprised to see all but one of them already asleep. Finnegan, Thomas, Longbottom, and Weasley were all snoring softly, and so she left her customary note to first years that they were welcome to contact her any time of day or night if they needed something at their bedsides, and then she moved over to where Harry Potter was just staring out the window, hardly even noticing her arrival.

"Mister Potter," she said softly.

He jumped a little, and then turned her direction, looking alarmed. "Sorry Professor, am I supposed to be in bed?"

"While we don't typically enforce a specific time for students to be asleep," she said, "we do expect you to be alert and awake for your classes each day. It will be hard to stay awake for a full day of activity if you don't nod off at a decent hour."

"Right," he agreed. "I guess I'll turn in then."

She stood back as he moved from the window seat to his four-poster, climbing under the covers with care, smoothing them down around him with a look of astonishment on his face that she found a bit disturbing. "Comfortable, Potter?" she asked.

"Yes, Professor," he replied. "Like never before. It's a dream, really."

Minerva nodded, not knowing what to say to that, wanting to prod and ask exactly how his relatives had treated him, but knowing that even if he'd been treated well that the boy had no reason to trust her. Not yet. He didn't know her from Merlin. "Quite," she finally said. "Goodnight then, my dear. If you need anything, tonight or down the road, my door is always open. I trust the prefects told you where my quarters and office are located."

"Yes ma'am, thank you," he replied with a small smile. "Goodnight Professor."

With a quick nod, she turned and left the boys' dorm, making her way down a hall and up another flight of stairs to the girls'. Only Siobhan was awake here, the other three girls sorted to Gryffindor this term already passed out in their beds. Like in the boys' dorm, she left a note for each of them before heading to Siobhan's four-poster. Unlike Harry, Siobhan had noted her arrival and was watching her every move without comment.

"Hi," the girl finally greeted as Minerva sat on the edge of her bed. "Uh, I mean, hello Professor."

Minerva flicked her wand a few times to set some basic privacy wards. Even if the other girls appeared to be asleep, she wasn't willing to risk one of them waking up and overhearing this conversation, and Merlin help her, it needed to happen tonight. "Reality check, Siobhan, our relationship is anything but a normal teacher and student one. Privately, you need not be formal. Please feel free to call me by my given name."

Siobhan nodded. "Minerva," she said, as if testing it out. "I felt much the same but I didn't want to assume. Regardless of the contract between our families, I'm still a child and your student, and you are still an adult who is my Professor. I admit though, I didn't expect to feel the magic…"

"Pulling?" Minerva asked, having felt much the same all evening.

"Yes," Siobhan admitted. "I wonder if it would feel the same with the rest of the Ross clan."

"Likely," she postulated. "I'd have to discuss it with your brother and your parents, but perhaps over the holidays - Christmas or next summer - we could plan a time for you to meet the rest of the Rosses. I can't imagine the burden on you to know that you must marry among such a small group of people."

"Nor can I imagine the burden you all face, knowing whoever I select will have no choice in the matter," Siobhan replied. "None of it seems fair. I know Mum felt she was doing the right thing to ensure my inheritance, but I'd honestly rather be poor and without titles, but free to marry whoever I happen to fall in love with."

Minerva nodded in understanding. "As you get older, you may change your mind. Now, romance may seem like the most important thing of all, but you must realize that when your parents and my mother signed the contract, our world was at war. It was an insurance to the survival of both of our families, as well as a political move to pave way for a strong power to rise, in you and the children you one day have, that could one day push forth laws that would prevent further wars. Someday, I hope, you understand that the survival of a race is a good deal more important than romance."

"Oh, I understand that now, Minerva," Siobhan huffed. "Trust me, that's not the first time I've gotten that speech. My grandmother recites it at least once a summer. I just wish I'd have been given the chance to change the world on my own terms, rather than having the terms decided for me."

The older Witch sighed. "I hope you don't resent my family for locking you into this."

Siobhan shook her head. "No more than I could resent my own family. It is how things are done. I respect that, and will adhere to it. I just don't have to agree with the methodology. I think one of the first of those laws I would make with my political power would be one to protect those locked into arranged marriages, so there would always be an exit clause - some means for either party involved to get out of the contract without extreme consequence. I should not have to bear the burden of knowing that if I were to run away and refuse to marry a Ross, that I would be condemning both myself and my brother, along with you and your family, to sterility. It's barbaric, even by the standards of the Princes."

"True," Minerva replied. "Gods, this last year at Hogwarts there has been so much rumor flying about the upcoming heiress to the Prince family. Your grandmother let it slip at a party last year that she did indeed have a granddaughter who would in time be taking the Headship of the family, but would not give your age, or say if you'd be attending Hogwarts, or anything. Of course, nobody knows about your brother, either, so it's this grand conspiracy in Pureblood circles. Still, I'll have to bite my tongue in classes, and remind myself I can't call you Miss Prince."

"Quite," Siobhan agreed. "I'm still feeling so odd about introducing myself as Hermione Granger. I mean I love my dad, truly, but I didn't even know that was his surname until I was five or six. I've always been a Prince. Merlin save me if someone asks about the Dagworth-Grangers. I'm not supposed to tell anyone I'm related to them either. Of course, I understand needing to protect Mum, and Sev, and you and the rest of your family too, I guess. Stupid Wizengamot."

When Eileen Prince had left her abusive, Muggle husband, she opted to do so by means of the only form of Wizarding suicide which was legal: suicide of life. In this situation, one completely cuts ties and identity with their former life. They must change their name, their occupation, their appearance, and completely deny themselves access to anything and everything related to their former existence. This also wipes away any criminal record. If one applies for suicide of life through the Ministry, they recieve help with relocation and new personal identification paperwork, but after that they're on their own. If someone who has done this then contacts a previous family member or friend, the contract is voided and they are remanded into custody and sent to Azkaban for a minimum of five years - longer if the suicide of life was chosen to avoid time in Azkaban in the first place. Divorce, which would seem sensible to any Muggle, was totally illegal within the magical community; the suicide of life program acting as both. One had to be truly desperate to do it.

When Eileen had chosen that path, all she had going for her was an abusive husband and a son who had just come of age and gone to Voldemort to immediately take the Dark Mark. Her parents had disowned her, and she'd not worked in the Muggle or Wizarding world in nearly two decades. She felt that she had nothing to lose and everything to gain. As such, the Ministry changed her name to Eileen King, and set her up in a small apartment near a dentistry school in London. She kept her wand, but made the decision to continue living Muggle, having more experience in the Muggle world at this point than the Wizarding one.

The first week of school, she'd met John, and impulsively asked if he was related to the Dagworth-Grangers, giving herself away as to her connection to the magical world. After a few dates, she admitted she was a disowned Witch from a Pureblood family, but that she chose to live like a Muggle. John in turn admitted that he wasn't disowned, but was a Squib, and had opted to drop half of his proper surname when he chose to live in the Muggle world for sheer simplicity. Eileen realized that John was a rare thing in that he was not someone she'd known before her suicide of life, but who did know about the magical world, and thereby she could be honest with him about everything. The two continued to date, and within the year, were married. As a wedding surprise, John took advantage of a loophole in the laws regarding suicide of life and extended an invitation to Severus, wording it carefully as to clue the young man in but not say enough that would get Eileen in trouble.

From Minerva's point of view, shite pretty much went up in smoke at that point. Eileen didn't know that her mother had a charm placed on her daughter which would alert her if she should ever register to wed. As such, Niamh Prince invited herself to the wedding, and decided that she approved of the Squib Eileen had chosen for a second husband. She then urged her daughter to get pregnant, and provide an heir for the Prince line. Less than a year later, Siobhan was born, and Niamh Prince and Isobel McGonagall sat down and wrote up a contract which tied their families together irrevocably. Isobel died less than six months later, although much to Minerva's irritation, Lady Prince was still kicking.

Meanwhile, as Siobhan had pointed out, the stupid Wizengamot would throw Eileen into Azkaban the minute the learned that she was in contact with her mother, her son, and Minerva, all of whom she'd had a relationship with prior to her suicide of self. In reality, Eileen had chosen to reach out to none of those people so much as they'd be forcibly thrust back into her life by other parties. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, but it was what it was.

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