Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Marvel characters or any of the X-men. The same can be said of the wonderful world of J.K. Rowling. I am not making any profit, but simply having fun. I did however create Emma Winter.

Memories and dreams are in italics.

Edited in April 2021 during lockdown.

It took no time for the elevator to reach the lower level of the mansion and from there Minerva McGonagall walked hurriedly towards the infirmary. The witch knew exactly where she was going as Dumbledore had given her extremely detailed instructions on where to find his ward. The old wizard was unable to go so he had sent Minerva, his most trusted friend, to check on Emma and see if the young witch was in dire need of help or if she had passed from the world.

Both of them had refused to believe that Emma had perished mere hours before, even though the burden of a secret keeper of the Potter family had automatically moved to Dumbledore, signalling that Emma had indeed passed away.

It seemed yet again; Dumbledore had known that the young witch needed their help as soon as the ancient secret keeper magic transferred to him. As soon as that happened, the old wizard had called Minera and told her with a heartbroken voice that something terrible must have happened to his ward. From there the two had gathered as much information as they could and then the head of Gryffindor had left for Xavier's.

As soon as Minerva pushed the infirmary door open, she gave out a startled gasp at seeing Emma lying unconscious on a bed in the middle of the room.

"Oh sweetheart," Minerva sighed, her Scottish accent crisp and clear as ever when she was upset. Seeing Emma in such a state had not been how she had wanted to reconnect with her after almost a year away from her, the longest time since the young witch was eleven years old. They had all missed her, not only Minerva and Dumbledore but also Emma's Gryffindor friends from Hogwarts that asked about her constantly.

The older witch knew that Emma would be surprised to see the concern coming from her friends as she had always looked at herself as an outcast, a loner without a home but there was a large group of people that loved Emma dearly and needed her in their lives.

Minerva walked hurriedly to Emma who was connected to numerous machines that were keeping the young woman alive. The witch put her wand on the bed beside Emma and started rummaging through her pockets for a vial that Dumbledore had insisted that Minerva would take with her in case Emma was still alive and needed a little bit of extra help.

The vial was small and decorated with tiny golden illustrations of a phoenix that Minerva had given to Dumbledore decades earlier to store Fawkes's phoenix tears for his personal use. Dumbledore treasured the vial and rarely was it far from the wizard. Usually, it was buried somewhere in his robes as he was prone to danger and often needed a quick fix in case of trouble.

She lifted Emma's hospital gown to reveal a long dressing on her side. Minerva muttered angrily to herself, "preposterous muggles."

The older witch was horrified by the usual muggle medical ways of slicing people up and sewing them together as if they were old socks. Magic was so much better, cleaner and quicker in her opinion. Minerva removed the gauze to look at a very long cut on Emma's side. That was not what unfazed her but the endless bruises up and down Emma's torso, her young foster daughter had been to hell and back.

It was then that the old witch realized that the attack had been no accident, whoever did it had intended on doing as much damage as possible to Emma. Somehow the young, innocent-looking woman had managed to ruffle feathers at her new home in a similar way as she had done at Hogwarts when she was younger.

Minerva unscrewed the little cap off the bottle and poured half of the phoenix tears onto the wound and it immediately closed as if nothing had happened. The bruises around the wound vanished as well to Minerva's relief. Thankfully, whoever did the surgery had been clever enough to use stitches that would dissolve so Minerva didn't even have to remove them. Minerva had never been a talented nurse, it had never been her forte, especially when dealing with injured family members.

The rest of the vial was poured into Emma's mouth. It only took a few moments before her colouration changed dramatically, her deathly pale cheeks changed quickly with a rosy and healthy glow. Her breathing sounded deeper and stronger as well. It would have to do as the witch didn't have anything else to give her, but Fawkes's tears should heal just about anything. After all, magic was a beautiful thing.

Minerva stroked Emma's hair tenderly, it was a sign of affection few got to experience from the stern witch. The young woman responded by sighing contently as if she unconsciously knew who was there before Emma slipped even further into a healing sleep. The elderly woman sat down by the bed, she would stand vigil for a little while to make sure that Emma would be safe and to make sure that she was truly out of danger before Minerva would return home to inform Dumbledore of what had happened.

An hour later it was clear that Emma was much better, her body seemed healed and the witch was simply sleeping deeply. Content Minerva stood up and gave a warm kiss to the witch's forehead before stroking the wild curls with affection. Without children of her own, Emma was the closest thing to a daughter that Minerva had ever had, and she could not have loved the young woman more if she had been her child.

"What are you doing here?" a livid, gruff voice boomed from the door of the infirmary and a startled Minerva turned quickly around facing a very angry and intimidating mutant that looked as if he was about to explode violently. What affected her the most was not the threatening body language from the man but the wild eyes that signalled that the man was indeed unpredictable.

"No mutant, I think the question is rather what you are doing here?" Minerva asked, her voice strict and slightly condescending. The old witch had long since learned that the best defence was a strong offence, one had to show the opponent that they were fighting a lost cause.

To Minerva's surprise, she could see the man physically flinch at her words, as if categorizing him as a mere mutant was hurtful to the man that looked invincible. No one was supposed to come into the infirmary until she was done, Minerva had put the most potent muggle repellent charm on the lower levels to make sure she could sneak in unnoticed.

"Doing here? Emma is my wife," Logan snarled before stepping closer to the witch and invading her personal space as his tall frame loomed over her. There was no way he was backing from the old woman that didn't seem to know to not insult someone bigger and stronger than she was.

"I certainly have never heard of you," Minerva said her voice snappy as she eyeballed the man whose looks reminded her more of a werewolf than anything and she had seen quite a few of those during the battle at Hogwarts. That made the mutant more dangerous in her eyes as he would be more likely to lose control. With Emma in the room that was impossible, the young woman needed to be protected from further harm.

"You better back away from her old lady, right now," Logan growled at the sassy old woman that behaved as if she owned the universe and all in it. He certainly was not one to take orders, let alone from old bags that yapped their mouths and didn't know when to shut up.

Minerva realized that the mutant was getting close to losing the little control he had and quietly summoned her wand into her hand and pointed it right at Logan's chest. She was not one for violence, but she was not afraid of him and would do whatever it took to protect Emma from harm's way.

"One more word mutant and I will be forced to use this," the old witch said, her voice giving a clear indication that she would not back down or be intimidated by the furious mutant. Minerva had looked bigger beasts in the eye and she refused to back down.

It didn't matter to her how used the mutant was to frightening people with his brashness, it wouldn't work on her. The witch had many decades worth of experience dealing with Death Eaters and wouldn't be intimidated by anyone.

Logan's eyes widened in surprise at the small wooden stick that was poking his chest. All the pieces came together and there was no mistaking the cinnamon scent in the air mixed with peppermint that was coming from the old woman. The witch was about to blast him as Emma had done quite a few times over the year, Logan should have realized sooner but his emotions had taken over and suffocated his senses.

His hazel eyes narrowed as he sized the old woman up, her bright blue eyes glaring at him as if Logan was a naughty child and not one of the most lethal mutants in the world. There was only one woman in the world that would dare scold him like a naughty child and finally, a name popped up in his mind.

"Minerva McGonagall?" Logan asked questionably with furred eyebrows as visions from Emma's memory floated in his mind. He knew who the old witch was, she was like family to Emma. The mutant remembered her stern tone from memories of her scolding Emma and the Trio in the past. No wonder she was being protective of Emma as the older woman was more like a mother than anything to the younger one.

The witch looked at him stunned with wide, astonished eyes as if nothing could have surprised her more in the world than having a feral mutant know her name.

"Yes, that is I. Who are you and how do you know my name?" Minerva asked suspiciously and lowering her wand to tuck it into the sleeve of her coat. It was a habit she had taught to Emma over a decade ago, a witch was nothing without her wand close by.

Logan looked at Minerva, his manner had warped into a peaceful posture, but his gaze studied her intently, "Emma showed me her memories, and I saw you there."

"Showed you her memories? As in a pensive?" Minerva asked undeniably dumbfounded that Emma had allowed a mutant to see into the hidden world of magic. It was unheard to give information like that to an outsider, someone that didn't have magic and on top of it was a mutant.

The witch glowered at the man as he walked past her as if she no longer mattered and tread towards Emma's bed. He sat down on the bed next to Emma with familiarity, it was not the first time he was this close to the witch and it made Minerva wonder if he had been telling the truth when he said he was married to the young witch. The man stared at Emma with surprising wonder as his large hand stroked her cheek ever so gently as if he was afraid to somehow hurt the unconscious woman.

"What did you give her?" Logan asked, his voice raspy with emotion. The mutant might not enjoy surprises, but that old woman had saved Emma's life. His mate looked restful as if nothing had happened and that she was simply sleeping.

Minerva stood straight on the opposite side of the bed feeling almost uncomfortable with the familiarity in which the mutant touched her Emma, it was strange to see such emotion towards the young witch from someone Minerva had not even known existed until a few moments earlier.

"Phoenix tears. Dumbledore sent them for Emma," Minerva said with affection in her voice and was not surprised when the mutant seemed to know who Dumbledore was. Emma trusted the mutant with all her secrets, something that was completely out of character for the reclusive young witch that had continuously favoured the company of books over menfolk.

Minerva's gaze was eerily feline as she studied and sized up the man in front of her. Was this man the husband of their little Emma? Had the girl finally found someone that made her happy? A part of Minerva was overjoyed with the thought that Emma had found someone to share her life with and the young witch had clearly already shown the mutant an incredible trust by showing him snippets from her past. The man on the other hand had shown great devotion by standing by the young woman after witnessing her troubled past, most non-magical folk would have run away screaming at the sight of Emma's nightmarish life experiences.

Would this man be able to stand the tough times and shelter Emma when she needed it? Minerva had only met the man a few moments earlier, but something told her that he would stick by Emma in the long run as long as the impulsive witch would allow it.

As the mutant lifted Emma's hand to kiss the inside of her palm with gentleness, the old witch felt a strong emotion come over her. It was a double-edged sword to wish the best for one's child and then see the child grow up as a woman who was trying to find her way in the world.

"When were you wed?" Minerva asked curiously and the mutant turned his gaze to her with a small smile on his face.

"Early January was the official ceremony, but we had a private one at Christmas," Logan said and gave the older witch a small smile.

"I wish we had known; we would have all been there to celebrate with you," Minerva said gently, her hand stroking over Emma's hair with affection.

"We are happy, that's all that matters," Logan said, and the witch nodded in understanding. Little Emma Winter had crashed into love with the unlikeliest of creatures, but it was clear that the mutant was fiercely loyal to the young witch.

"Will she be alright now?" Logan asked Minerva, his hazel eyes burning brightly with emotion as he looked towards her.

"Emma is already completely healthy. The phoenix tears work very quickly. She simply needs to sleep for a while as she replenishes some of the magic she lost. A witch needs her wand young man, make sure she won't be parted from it again," Minerva said sternly at the mutant that grinned teasingly at her words as if somehow they were funny to him.

"I give you my word," he finally said with a large smile on his face that removed all the frown lines and instead Minerva could see how good-looking he was. A little rough around the edges but surely not without charisma.

"Is the baby alright?" Logan asked with a hoarse voice as he tried to contain the dread within. The couple looked so forward to being parents and he needed to know if his family was safe.

"Baby?" Minerva asked completely flabbergasted, her blue eyes wide in shock as she stared first at the mutant and then at Emma.

"Is the baby safe?" Logan insisted and the witch rubbed her teary eyes. How much they had missed out by Emma having to keep quiet due to her duties as a secret keeper. Minerva took her wand and murmured a spell. A few seconds later a quick, loud heartbeat sounded around the room that made both of them smile widely in affection at Emma.

Minerva murmured another spell before laughing merrily, "the little one is fine, whatever happened to her mother did not affect her."

"A girl?"

Minerva nodded with a wide smile on her face. The joyous news she would bring to Dumbledore when she would return to Hogwarts. First that his ward was safe, and then Emma had wed a mutant and was expecting her first child, a daughter.

Logan laughed merrily, tears gathering in his eyes before he kissed Emma's cheeks before whispering, "you have to wake up darlin', I have something to tell you."

The older witch stared at the man in silence, it seemed that young Emma had indeed found someone who loved her beyond measure. Dumbledore had always worried so much about the young witch and how unhappy she had been at Hogwarts after the war. Emma Winter had found happiness at last and had her own family with a child on the way. How things changed in a short amount of time.

"What is your name? It seems unfair that you know my name, but I do not know yours," Minerva said, her voice softer. There was something likeable about the mutant and she could understand why Emma had trusted him to let him know about the hidden world of magic. He certainly was the type of person that Emma had never stumbled upon at Hogwarts, but clearly, the witch and the mutant were happy.

"Logan," the mutant said before standing up tall and reaching out his hand in a greeting towards Minerva over Emma's hospital bed.

"A pleasure," Minerva said as she put her hand into his and snorted when Logan tried to shake her hand gently but at no avail as he crushed her hand into his.

"Likewise," he said smiling widely before adding quickly, "and thank you, thank you for saving my wife."

"You're awake," Logan said his warm breath blowing over her face, his familiar voice more solemn than she had ever heard it before. Emma opened her eyes to see a weary-looking Logan looming over her as if to make sure she was waking up.

The scent of disinfectant filled her nostrils and she looked confused around not understanding where she was or what had happened.

"Hey darlin'," Logan's voice greeted her tenderly as her dark eyes finally landed on his face. It was a great comfort to see his face when her mind felt as tired and confused about what had happened to her.

Her husband looked troubled and fatigued, a combination she had hardly ever seen when it came to the sturdy mutant that time did not affect. Logan stroked her hair caringly while she tried to get her grounding. Such a simple thing but yet his touch soothed her more than she could ever express.

"What happened?" Emma asked quietly, something terrible had happened, it was quite clear to her. But for the life of her, she couldn't remember.

"You had a run-in with some idiots back in Salem, do you remember any of it?"

Emma got silent as flashes of images blared in her mind's eye. Yes, she remembered now, Rogue and some angry men. Some things were blurred though but she distinctly remembered sending Rogue away and agony, unfathomable agony that had washed over her.

"I remember now, it's a little indistinct though. Is she alright, did she make it home safely?" She asked quietly as she struggled to sit up but at no avail as Logan put a large hand on her shoulder pushing her down again.

"Rogue is fine, you can talk to her later when you feel better. You ain't getting up for a while darlin', you are lucky to be alive. If not for Minerva McGonagall coming here and doing her voodoo, you would be surely dead. It was too much, your body couldn't cope with the injuries," Logan admitted reluctantly to Emma. It hurt to say it aloud, it hurt to say that modern-day medicine had difficulty in keeping her alive after what had happened.

Emma's brow furrowed at Logan's words, "Minerva was here?"

"Yes, your charming Minerva was here a few hours after the attack. She brought phoenix tears for you. She sends you her greetings and well wishes," Logan said quoting the old witch. Minerva might be getting older but there was no mistaking an order as the one Logan got about taking good care of Emma. Minerva needn't have bothered, Logan would nonetheless.

Emma stroked a hand over her small bump, her eyes searching for Logan's in a silent question. The mutant nodded and smiled widely at his mate, "she's there and very healthy according to Minerva."

"She?" Emma asked stunned, feeling such joy wash over her that her child was safe. It had been the only thing that mattered to her.

Logan laughed, his chest rumbling with the joy he felt inside. Emma, his beloved, was fine and the little one as well. The witch looked at her husband and laughed relieved that everything was fine after all, with the help of a little magic.

"Seems I missed a lot while I was out," Emma replied before yawning deeply and feeling her eyes start to drop again.

"You did, but the most important thing is that you rest. Minerva said that your body is trying to replenish your magic supply. Sleep darlin'," Logan said and squeezed her hand reassuringly. He would be there when she would wake up again.

Sleep beckoned to the witch and a mere moments later Emma was fast asleep.

"Go to Dumbledore's tomb and give him this," Snape said in a tired voice pointing towards a vial of antidote that sat on his hospital desk. He was awake and coherent after being brought there by Emma after the wizard had been bitten by Nagini, Voldemort's snake at the Shrieking Shack.

"Give him? Dumbledore is dead, you should know," Emma said with an exhausted, hollow voice. The witch didn't have the energy anymore, she just wanted to crawl into a ball and never move again. Emma had lost everyone that mattered in the world besides Minerva. Her mind had had enough of the horrors she had witnessed, and her mind was shutting down from the world. Fog had entered her mind, the witch felt sluggish as if she needed to hibernate for years to try to recover from the trauma she had experienced.

"Idiot girl, he will be dead if you don't do as I tell you. It was the Draught of the living dead that put him in that state. Dumbledore needs the antidote if he is to survive. Go to his tomb immediately and administer it to him," Snape hissed dismissing the witch with a shooing movement of his wrist that was typical for the potions master. Emma stared at him and for a moment she felt herself becoming defiant before the numbness cocooned her. It was as if the endless surprises and terror of war had numbed her in never-ending pain.

Emma grabbed the vial and Snape's inky black eyes were the last thing she saw before she disapparated back to Hogwarts. The wards had been broken down earlier that evening in the final battle of the war which made it possible for whoever wanted to reach the grounds.

Emma ignored the destruction and the fires burning around the grounds after the battle. They had achieved victory but at a terrible price. The witch felt no joy in her heart even if they had won. There were simply too many horrific memories to be dealt with and Emma had to complete her task before it was too late. The witch ran as if her life depended on it towards Dumbledore's tomb that was situated by the lake.

"Wool socks," Emma murmured as she reached the tomb and an invisible door opened wide to give her access inside. The witch hated having to visit the tomb after vowing last time to never return there, but somehow Snape's words fuelled her hope. Perhaps the only father she had ever known was still alive and because of that Emma was willing to push one more last time, after that she could finally rest.

Dumbledore laid on a marble table in the middle of the tomb. The old wizard looked dead, and Emma walked closer to him, flickers of the emotional funeral going through her mind. Grief pulled at her heart more than ever. All the horrors over the years were magnified standing there in the tomb with Dumbledore, the one wizard that had given them hope and the tools to fight against Voldemort. They had won at great personal cost and no one felt joy, even if they had won.

Emma stood beside Dumbledore stroking his long white beard affectionately. She had dreaded coming into the tomb, thinking that Snape had somehow been mistaken and that Dumbledore was dead. His body wasn't affected by death, making Emma optimistic that Snape had been right.

Emma grudgingly admitted to herself that in all the time she had known Snape personally, the potions master had usually been correct in his assumptions. After all, he was specially trained in a quick study and assessing situations.

Emma opened the vial that Snape had given her while gagging violently in reaction to the vile smell that came off the potion. The witch quickly opened Dumbledore's mouth, poured in the liquid and closed his mouth again praying that the potion would work.

Then she waited and waited.

Nothing happened.

Minutes passed by and nothing happened, not a damn thing.

Disappointment hit her hard in the pit of her stomach. It hadn't worked and it was like grieving all over again for Dumbledore with the added sensation of all that had happened over the last months. Emma wished she could cry but no tears came out. Exhausted she sat down in a corner of the tomb falling asleep immediately.

Emma stood next to Logan in her memory as they looked at the sleeping form of a younger Emma that seemed to have given up.

"I will tell you the rest when we come up," Emma whispered to Logan before the memory blurred signalling the end of the memory.

The two of them stood face to face in the cottage that had become their haven over the time they had known each other. Emma walked outside on the veranda and Logan followed silently. Whatever it was, she needed to finish her story in peace without him interrupting. It was clear that she needed to get it off her chest and make him understand her past once and for all. The witch had told him that it was their final session, she had nothing left to work through after that memory and Logan was happy with what he had found out about his past. Both of them wanted to let go of the past, focus on the future and their little family.

"In the end, Dumbledore woke up and I transferred him to St. Mungos. It only took him a few days to get back to his old self, but it was nearly impossible for me," Emma said sighing before tilting her head on Logan's shoulder as if seeking comfort. The both of them stood in silence for a moment while Emma cleared her thoughts and decided how to describe the feeling to Logan. It was important to her that her husband would understand just how strongly the war had affected her and changed her.

"Things were going back to normal for the wizarding world. Dumbledore went back to his usual happy self and even Snape seemed to maintain some kind of normalcy after the madness. We ended our fake marriage right after the war, it was annulled as it had never been consummated. Snape was more than willing to comply with my request. Never a man of delay we annulled it right away, it was as if it had never happened.

After that, I went into a haze, something that felt like a dream in slow motion. Muggles would call it posttraumatic stress disorder, but Pomfrey called it the shock of war. Both explain well what I had. Even though I did what I had to do in the battle, killing so many, it had deep effects on my mental state. I felt jaded, my dreams were filled with nightmares and I didn't function during the day. I was somehow a ghost that couldn't see the light of day, I didn't seek out people and remained alone by choice.

I spent my time mostly at the infirmary or by the lake staring into the sky. Now I would say I was severely depressed. I think Dumbledore's resurrection triggered it. The circles of lies that had surrounded my life became shackles and it was something that made me a prisoner of my mind.

The trio was constantly in contact and Hermione visited me often even though I was an uninterested host. The biggest problem for the three of them was the magical paparazzi. They were vicious. I would feel the same when they found out about me, my parents, Dumbledore being my guardian and Snape sheltering me as my husband. We were all hounded viciously without any thoughts about the sacrifices we had made in our lives.

The role in the war would serve as icing on the cake for frenzied news reporters and the public that needed stories that were about survivors.

Months after the battle I finally started to wake up. Dumbledore offered me a job as a muggle studies teacher that I worked in for two years before coming here. I needed to get away, to find an outlet and to be away from being known and watched every step of the way.

That's how I ended up here with you. I feel so incredibly blessed to have met and fallen in love with you. You are my light, my shelter and my world."

For the longest time, Logan didn't say anything as he processed her story. His large fingers played with her curly hair and he felt infinitely grateful that the little witch had taken shelter at Xavier's.

How uninteresting his existence would be if Emma Winter had not become a part of his life. How lucky both of them had been to have met. It was hard not to believe in destiny after experiencing such love with someone that Logan had known less than a year.

"I'm so sorry for everything darlin'. I am simply thankful that whatever you lived through made you come here," Logan said wrapping his arms tightly around her and kissing her lips softly. Emma sighed contentedly feeling safe and secure in his arms.

"Just remember one thing and then I will let this drop. I will always love you Emma, always," Logan murmured hotly into her ear, meaning clear in every syllable as his hands stroked the small bump that seemed to grow larger every day.

"And I will always love you," Emma whispered back blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. All was well in her world and she couldn't wait for them to leave for their future home. In a month they would be gone, and the witch couldn't be happier about the next chapter of their lives.