A/N: Thank you to everyone for all of your comments and reviews after the last chapter. Here is the first part of the epilogue—officially one more after this.

For the disclaimer, please see the prologue.

Epilogue: Pt. I

As Minerva and Albus had known it would be, their mini-vacation of a honeymoon was cut short. They had spent their time in an odd mix of crying, lovemaking, and reading, simply waiting for either the Ministry or Callum to knock on their door.

Two days after they were married, the assigned Unspeakables had indeed found Callum first, and told him of the deaths of Athena and Dalton Scrimgeour. Neither Unspeakable had enjoyed delivering the news to their superior, but again, neither knew that Callum had the much more unpleasant task of telling Athena and Dalton's parents.

Upon hearing the news, Callum had immediately travelled to Albus' cottage. While he loathed interrupting their honeymoon, he knew his sister wouldn't forgive him if he delayed.

Callum would never forget the look of utter desolation on Minerva's face when he explained why he was there. He told the bereaving parents that Athena and Dalton had been found after a werewolf attack, and both had succumbed to their injuries.

Of course, Minerva and Albus had been expecting this. They hadn't, however, expected that the Ministry would arm Callum with photos of Athena and Dalton's bodies after their so-called demise. Minerva had never screamed so loudly in her life as she did at the sight of her son, maimed by a supposed werewolf, with his eyes seemingly staring at her, lifeless.

Both Albus and Callum had needed to move that memory to Albus' Pensieve, unable to sleep with the sound of Minerva's wails echoing in their heads.

Minerva and Albus had held a joint funeral a few days later. It was attended by the entirety of Minerva's family, Ro and Poppy, Hagrid, and to everyone's surprise, Aberforth.

Aberforth hadn't stayed long, but he had hugged his brother for the first time in decades. The younger Dumbledore brother had left quietly between the ceremony and the reception. He wasn't as close to the deceased couple as the McGonagall family, he knew, and besides, he wasn't only crying for his niece and her husband, but his sister, too.

A young, red-headed Dumbledore woman—blood of his blood—dying far too early hurt more than Aberforth could bear.

Upon returning home to Hogwarts after the funeral, Minerva had found a condolence card from none other than Tom Riddle. She had stared disgustedly at it, and then opened it. The message inside had shocked her.

Riddle apologized for her loss—she noted he said nothing about Athena—and he promised that he would never reveal that she was Dalton's mother. The letter was quite lengthy, but Minerva was intelligent enough to recognize the subtext, as Riddle had undoubtedly intended.

If Dalton had been Riddle's son, and not Aidan's, Minerva would still have her son, and none of this would have happened.

After reading the message, she had tossed the note to Albus.

He had read it himself, then asked, "Do you want me to—"

Minerva hadn't let Albus finish his question before she set the note on fire.

They hadn't heard from Tom Riddle since—at least, not directly.

Albus was sure the brewing war was a signal of sorts, from Tom to himself, that someone else held great magical power and was willing to wield it. However, he kept his thoughts about Tom Riddle to himself, believing it was perhaps best to shield Minerva from any of the man's activities.

This choice would cause much pain over the years to come, but Albus would never regret it.

The days, as they often do, passed the parents by. Minerva found that the pain and grief were still there, always floating nearby, but eventually, they ached more than stung. She was not a woman prone to wallowing about things she could not change, and she had a job to do.

Several, in fact.

Albus had delved more and more into scholarship. He wanted to learn as much as he could about soul bonds, and so he found himself working with Nicolas Flamel once more. Albus would not test any of their efforts—Minerva had made him swear to that—but he found solace in the idea that he could at least learn how Dalton and Athena would be together, where ever they were.

Albus and Nicolas eventually discovered that couples with soul bonds could use each other's wands with no ill effects, but Albus couldn't determine how that would preordain someone's coupling.

Minerva and Albus carried this secret between them through the autumn and into the winter. They had fully expected to take their children's departure to their graves, but all that changed just before their first Christmas as childless parents.

To Minerva's surprise, Callum appeared at Hogwarts, looking rather worse for wear. Her brother had often dropped in to check on her since Dalton's "death," but he had always sent an owl first.

"Cal?" Minerva asked upon seeing him at her doorstep. She had not once seen that look of pure despondency on her brother's face, and it frightened her. "Come in."

His face was pale as he entered Minerva's quarters. Albus, who had been reading on Minerva's couch, helped Minerva to sit Callum down.

"Cal?" Minerva asked again. "What is going on? Is it Lucy? Or the girls?"

"Minnie..." Callum croaked. "Minnie, I didn't know. You have to believe me. I didn't know." He looked anxiously between Albus and Minerva, who had gone rather white.

"You didn't know what, Callum?" Albus asked.

"Did I send Dalton and Athena away?"

Minerva knew her brother well enough to know that he already knew what he had done, and he clearly had spent days working up the courage to tell her.

"Oh, Cal," Minerva whispered. "It's all right. I don't blame you."

"How did you figure it out?" Albus inclined his head.

"I saw the photos of the kids, obviously. But something wasn't sitting right with me about the pictures. I realized they were doctored—the Unspeakables had been working on creating pictures from scratch using people's worst fears, and I had a gut feeling that was what had happened to create those photos.

"It took a while, but then it hit me: I approved a permanent time-travel trip for a couple. I checked the records, and while I still couldn't access the names, I checked the date. This couple left the day of your wedding." Callum paused, suddenly looking horrified. "I thought you two would know—it seemed too...coordinated, them leaving on your wedding day, but if you didn't know..."

"We knew," Minerva murmured. "They weren't supposed to tell us, but they did."

"I'm so sorry," Callum cried, sobbing. "I am so, so sorry."

"You didn't know. You were doing your job." Minerva rubbed her brother's back. "As I said, Cal, I don't blame you. We don't blame you."

"Callum, I have to ask." Albus kneeled so he could look at Callum at eye level. "Does anyone else know?"

"I think Ro pieced it together," Callum admitted. "Well, I don't know that for sure, actually, but she was in the room when I signed the papers. I'm sure she has questions, at the very least."

"She's certainly smart enough to have made the connection," Minerva replied. "Al?"

Albus knew what she was asking.

"If she will admit to knowing about it without you saying it first," Albus said, "I see no reason why Ro shouldn't have her suspicions confirmed."

"What about Lucy?" Callum asked. "I completely understand if you wish me to keep it from her—Merlin knows I owe you anything I can give you—but she knows something is amiss."

"Tell her," Albus advised. "These kinds of secrets can fester. It wouldn't be fair of us to ask you to keep this from your wife, but I would appreciate it if Iolanthe, Aoife and their partners continue to believe what they've already been told."

Callum nodded. "Of course. Honestly, I think the news would hurt them more than anything. It's easier for them to believe that their cousins have died—I don't want them feeling any guilt over Athena and Dalton choosing to leave. Iolanthe and Charlus especially, given what happened last October."

"Thank you," Minerva said. She squeezed Callum's hand. "And thank you for telling us that you had figured it out."

"I wouldn't dream of keeping it a secret from you, Minnie." Callum shook his head. "But hey, if the two of you are in the market for another daughter, Aoife is enamoured with you both."

Albus and Minerva exchanged amused glances. Lucy had eventually found out that Aoife had told Minerva first about her engagement. Instead of being angry, Lucy had joked that Albus and Minerva were now Aoife's second set of parents.

Aoife often found herself at Hogwarts with her aunt and uncle rather than at Peverell Manor with her parents.

"We love Aoife," Albus replied softly, "but she's yours."

Callum nodded, understanding he had hit a nerve. "You know what's funny? That your kids ended up soul bonded, just like you two! If you wouldn't hex me for suggesting it, I would ask you two to come on down to the Ministry for questioning."

Minerva had rolled her eyes, and that had been that.

Two weeks after that conversation with Callum, Ro pulled Minerva into her quarters one evening whilst Poppy was busy in the Hospital Wing.

"Is it true?" Ro asked, biting her lip. "About Athena and Dalton?"

"Yes," Minerva whispered. "Callum knows."

"It's just us?" Ro raised an eyebrow. "We're the only ones?"

"Yes." Minerva hesitated. "Well, and Lucy."

"Merlin, Minerva." Ro sucked in a breath. "You poor, poor lady. You and Albus didn't deserve this."

"Thank you," Minerva responded softly.

"I hate to ask, but could I tell Poppy?" Ro asked. "Poppy won't tell you this, but she's sick with grief. She keeps saying that if she had been a better Healer, Athena and Dalton would have been better equipped to handle the werewolf."

Minerva closed her eyes. "Poppy is smart enough to know that isn't true."

"No, but she's grasping at straws, Min."

Minerva couldn't very well ask Ro to keep it a secret from Poppy—especially not after allowing Callum to tell Lucy—so she gave Ro permission to tell her wife.

Later, Minerva received confirmation that Poppy knew when, one night, Poppy visited her and hugged Minerva so gently that Minerva couldn't help but cry.

Minerva and Albus found great solace in their friends. Minerva would often pass the time angrily throwing Quaffles at Ro, only to cry in Poppy's arms later. Much like they had after they had been captured, Albus and Callum spent scads of time together, pouring over memories and conducting research.

Almost three and a half years after the children's departure, around Christmas, Minerva and Albus had another pregnancy scare. When she found out she wasn't pregnant, Minerva had sobbed for days. Even after time had passed, she still was unable to determine if those tears had been in sadness, or relief. She and Albus both knew that having another child would bring with it a plethora of emotions, pleasant and unpleasant alike.

The entire situation had made Minerva physically ill, so Poppy placed Minerva on sick leave for almost the entirety of January 1971. She was excited to finally return to her duties, but Albus was slightly more concerned.

He knew his wife well enough to know that she was barely coping. Minerva already found the month of January particularly distressing—it was Dalton's birthday month, after all—and with her added sickness, Albus didn't know if she should be resuming all of her duties so quickly.

"My dear, I told you: there's no need to return to being my Deputy. You can resume your professorial duties for now, and then we can revisit your role as Deputy," Albus said gently as he watched Minerva button her coat. He always found it strangely bemusing when she dressed in Muggle attire.

And attractive, but now wasn't the time for that.

"Albus, I told you that I am ready to do this. This is a quick visit to a future student. It's my favourite duty that comes along with the position of Deputy Head of Hogwarts. I enjoy talking to the Muggle families. Besides," Minerva added, a brief smile on her lips, "I never forget the children's faces when they realize they're a wee witch or wizard."

"That was my favourite part of the job, too," Albus confessed.

"I should hope so, since I've been doing your administrative work since I was a student," Minerva said drily. She kissed Albus softly. "I adore you for worrying about me, but it's one student visit. I'll be back and in your arms soon enough."

"Hurry back," Albus murmured. "I've cleared my entire day so we could spend it together."

"I know," Minerva replied. She cupped his cheek. "I'll be back before you know it."

With that, Minerva gathered the student's Hogwarts letter and the other required documentation, and headed to the Midlands.

She found herself in a pleasant enough neighbourhood, and she steeled herself as she prepared to knock on the door. One never knew how the families would react, and it was always best to expect an angry outburst.

Anger and confusion were the most common outcomes, but sometimes, Minerva was lucky enough to encounter an accepting, but confused, family.

She sincerely hoped that would be the case today.

A few moments after knocking, a brunette opened the door.

Minerva barely kept herself from raising her eyebrows. This girl looked older than eleven.

"Are you Lily Evans?" Minerva asked kindly.

The girl rolled her eyes. "No. That's my younger sister. Hold on." She turned from the door, walked away, and yelled, "Lily! There's some lady at the door for you!"

Minerva heard footsteps, and her eyes widened as she saw none other than Violet Williams approach the door.

Fate was toying with Minerva today, and Minerva didn't appreciate it.

"Hi, there. I'm sorry about Petunia," Violet apologized. "She's a bit self-centred, but I suppose most teenagers are."

Minerva smiled. She knew better than most how true that statement was. "Yes, they are." She stuck out her hand. "My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall, and I'm here to talk to you about your daughter, Lily. Would it be all right if I spoke with you for a moment?"

"Of course. Come in, please." Violet stood aside and watched as Minerva entered the house. "You know, you look somewhat familiar." She cocked her head to the side as though she were sizing Minerva up. "Do I know you?"

Minerva swallowed, suddenly more nervous about delivering a child's letter than she ever had been before. "No, I'm afraid I don't believe we've met. I've lived in Scotland for almost my entire life."

"Ah," Violet tutted. "I've been up there a few times—including one strange day where I was babysitting two children—but I haven't spent much time there."

Minerva blinked, knowing exactly the day to which Violet was referring. "Ah, perhaps you could visit sometime."

A girl with red hair dashed down the stairs and into the kitchen, yelling behind her, "I'll get the tea, Mum!"

Violet chuckled. "Please, Professor, follow me into the living room. Lily likes hosting people lately—I think she uses it as a way to eavesdrop on her sister's conversations, but it certainly helps me out, so I won't complain."

"You have a lovely home," Minerva said, looking around. In fact, it didn't differ all that much from the home that Violet and Albus had shared.

This was turning into a very strange day.

"As I said, I'm here about your daughter, Lily," Minerva continued. "I'm a Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is my pleasure to offer your daughter a place at our boarding school this September, where she will be trained in the magical arts. I have brought a letter with me to help explain things, and of course, I am available to answer any questions you may have."

Minerva shuffled through her bag to withdraw the letter when an excited voice yelled, "Wait, I'm a witch? I'm magical?"

Now that she was hearing the voice for a second time, something about it sounded familiar.

Minerva looked up, and she found herself staring at someone she would have sworn was a child-sized Athena Dumbledore, except, instead of looking into Albus' blue eyes, she was looking into her very own green eyes.