A/N: 1. Minerva's soulmate is not a man. I'm just rolling with the heteronormativity of the times ;)
2. My maths was off - Molly was pregnant with number two not number three (unless Percy was held back a couple of years... an attractive option, but no)
Thanks for the reviews!
Hogwarts Castle, June 1970
"You knew?" Minerva was aghast as she stared at Albus Dumbledore.
"Yes, I knew." Albus' blue eyes twinkled maddeningly at her.
"How? Molly said it was hidden from all but her mother's line!" Damn Albus Dumbledore. How was it that he always knew everything?
"I have my ways," his smile was mysterious and she almost threw a book at his head. "I've known since the war."
"And you were, what? Going to let me marry Amelia regardless?"
"You'll always do as you want to, Minerva. You always have." He grinned, remembering the furore she'd created when she sold off the ancestral Borthwick estate, retaining only a few items of family memorabilia to be stored in a vault at Gringott's; in case some long-lost scion of the family should turn up at a later point. Oh, and the books. She'd kept the family library, or course. The wizarding community had been beyond outraged at her callous treatment of her pureblood heritage, but she'd taken little notice. "Besides, unless I'm mistaken, the thread is still pale, is it not? Even if your soulmate were born today, it would be at least twenty years before he's of an age of interest for you. Why should I begrudge you twenty years of happiness with Amelia?"
"Because it's dishonest!" Minerva's anger was now mixing with guilt, and her ire sharpened with it.
"Then tell her."
"I was bloody intending to!" She exploded. "And when she calls off the marriage, I'll not blame her!"
Albus selected a lemon drop from the ever-present dish on his desk. "On the contrary," he mused, "I think you and she are very alike."
"And what is THAT supposed to mean in this context?"
"I've known you a very long time, Minerva. Nearly forty years. And you are a passionate woman."
Minerva paused at his assessment. She felt a recognition at his words.
"You and Amelia love each other very much, but it's not the soul-rending passion of being in true love."
She sputtered for a moment, wanting to contradict him, but she knew he was right.
"You have a comfortable love, one that will support and nourish you through the years, but she's not your soulmate. And I think she knows that as well as you do."
"That doesn't explain why she won't turn and walk out the door as soon as she hears about my thread," she spat bitterly. "In fact, it will just encourage her to do so."
"I don't think so." Albus sucked noisily on his sweet. "She is a year older than you, and seeks much the same from your marriage as you do - comfort and security."
"Even she want to still marry me - which I sincerely doubt - what makes you think that I'll allow this marriage to take place? The vows state 'for life', Albus, not 'until my soulmate comes along and is of age'!"
"Talk to her, Minerva, and for once don't let your sense of honour overrule your judgement. I think you'll be surprised."
"Un-bloody-likely" she muttered disbelievingly. "And speaking of which," she made one of the conversational leaps that so entertained her old friend. "That's another thing! This child, whenever they are born, will most likely attend this very school. Have you thought of that, Albus?" Her outraged flush was now tinged with a slightly green pallor. "He'd be," she swallowed, "my student." The last was almost a whisper.
"Most probably." Albus agreed amiably.
Minerva's outrage took front and centre again. "How can you be so blithe about this?" She demanded. "The situation would be impossible! My soulmate as one of my students? I would never!"
"You know," Albus took on one of his more annoying pastoral tones. "In times past, soulmates were often not told themselves of their threads, even if their families knew of the match right from the start."
Minerva exhaled through her nose, trying to stem her anger.
"And the glamour ensures that no-one other than Molly would be able to recognise him."
"Or you!"
Albus just chuckled. "So there's really no need for such awkwardness if he indeed turned up at Hogwarts as a student."
"I would know!" Minerva roared, losing her ever-precarious hold on her temper.
"Not necessarily." Albus grinned mischievously.
"You, you'd keep it from me?" She didn't know whether what she was feeling was gratitude or more outrage. She was too lost now, too tired of this whole mess. She just wanted to go home to Amelia and pretend that all of this was a bad dream.
"Minerva," his face was entirely serious now. "My old friend. You are the most honorable person I have ever had the fortune to have met. Even if you did know who he was, I do not doubt your ability to deal with the situation with the utmost delicacy and integrity."
She shook her head. "I can't, I just…" she stood up, nearly knocking her chair over. "I just can't think about this anymore."
"Go home. Talk to Amelia. Take a few days, and remember, my dear." He levelled his blue eyes at her and said in his most gentle voice. "I am always here for you."
##
September 19th, 1979: Albus Dumbledore's private quarters
Minerva McGonagall smiled at her wife, Amelia, seated across the polished oak table from her. The moment was private, despite the loud chatter of the small but lively dinner party. Nine years later, she was still amazed by the determination with which her then-fiance had demanded they continue with their wedding, and the happiness they'd enjoyed since. She turned to Filius Flitwick, seated on her left.
"Would you please pass the peas, if you don't mind, Filius?"
He smiled at her as he did so, but before she could grasp the dish, she felt a wave of warmth, followed by a surge of overwhelming electricity, then faceplanted, unconscious, in her plate.