Minerva McGonagall ran her hands over her stiff black bun. She was attempting to grade about a hundred transfiguration papers by hand, in one day. She couldn't use magic on these, and it was almost time for dinner.

She looked through the paper of Bill Weasley, trying to finish grading it. Her quill scratched along, making small notes here and there, when a light tapping began. She paused, listening.

Tap tap tap.

She looked over to the window, and was shocked to see a large barn owl standing there, holding a package. Who could be writing to her? McGonagall walked quickly over to the window, opening it and letting the owl fly in. It flew around for a second, and then landed on the front desk in the classroom.

"Now what do you have?" Minerva thought aloud to the owl. It simply blinked its big yellow eyes, telling her to come and get it.

She quickly untangled the package, and the owl flew away again. It was a very well trained owl, she noticed. Then she looked at the address:

Professor Dumbledore
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

It was written down in very familiar handwriting. She couldn't place who's exactly it was, but it was odd for Professor Dumbledore to be getting packages.

Then again, what did Dumbledore do that seemed logical?

She looked down at her papers, then back at the package. I better deliver this now, she thought. Wouldn't want the headmaster getting a late package, especially if it's important.

And with that, she rushed out of the classroom, without a second look at the papers.

The corridors were empty, with all the students in their classes. The portraits were busy talking to each other, rushing back and forth between each other and whispering. They all paused to say hello to McGonnagall, who gave each a tight-lipped nod. She had work to do.

She approached the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office, murmuring "Chocolate Frogs" to make it spin open. The stairs appeared, and she walked up them, still grateful to be getting out of grading papers.

Professor Dumbledore was sitting quietly at his desk. A tiny red bird swung happily next to him, chirping a little song. He was looking through a book, murmuring, "No, not there, no, the three…" He looked up, and saw Minerva standing in front of him.

"Why, Minerva!" He exclaimed, shutting his book. "What a pleasant surprise, to see you here."

"Thank you, Headmaster. I came to deliver a package; it ended up in my room somehow."

"I see." Dumbledore examined the package, and Minerva swore she saw him smile at it.

"Who could it be from?" She asked, curious. She was always curious about what was going on in the school, for she felt one day, she might have to run it. But Dumbledore was silent, still looking over the package. "Professor?"

He looked up at her, his blue eyes twinkling. "Oh, just a very special book I ordered. Something personal, just to read before I go to bed." He smiled. "One should always read a book before bed. It makes for a peaceful sleep."

McGonnagall looked at him curiously. "I'll have to take that into consideration."

Dumbledore set the package down on the desk. "Maybe you will. However, you should be going down to the Great Hall, Minerva, as it is nearly time for dinner."

She nodded, and stepped towards the door. But, one thing held her back.

"Professor?"

"Yes?"

She paused, not knowing how to put this. "The-the writing on the package, well…it looked like Lily Potter's."

Dumbledore blinked once, the twinkle gone from his eyes for a second. "And so it does!" He looked at the package.

"But, sir, nobody has heard from her in over a year! And good thing, too, the Dark Lord seems to be growing stronger…"

"Yes, Minerva, but trust me. I'm sure all is well with her." He nodded at her, and she took one more step towards the door.

"I-I see, sir. I was merely curious."

"Curiosity is not a sin, Minerva. Remember that." He looked over his glasses at her, and the twinkle was back. She smiled at his, a rare, thin smile, and walked downstairs for dinner.

Dumbledore, however, was staying. He sat down at the desk quickly, and opened up the package. A small letter fell out, and so did a stack of pictures.

Dear Dumbledore,

Hello sir! You asked us to stay in touch, as we sent you some pictures, so you

Don't forget to mention I took them.

Moony! I'm getting there! Anyways, sir, sorry. I have someone looking over my shoulder as I write…so, we sent you some pictures that Moony took, so that you can see how everyone is doing. We hope you enjoy them, and

I think you should know that I'm only in around two, because everyone around here is too lazy to pick up the camera when I'm not around.

And we hope to send more! Enjoy, sir, and sorry about Moony's bragging. We're working on him.

Gee, thanks.

Love,

The clan.

(I don't know why she signed it like that…Sorry Professor)

Dumbledore chuckled at this playful banter, Knowing how childish both Lily and Remus could act. He dropped the letter, and picked up the pictures.

The first few were from Harry's birthday party. Dumbledore saw all of the gathered around the cake, and saw how well Lily seemed to be coming along. She was carrying a small child, who Dumbledore assumed was the newest addition.

The next set was from Christmas. There was Harry, unwrapping a brand new broomstick. Dumbledore laughed at his facial expression when it was opened. It was obvious he would be like his father one day. The next picture was of the red-haired baby, trying to open a small box. Sirius was walking up behind her, and then stuck a large red bow from one of the presents on her head. The next picture was of Aden, sitting with two babies, obviously twins, and smiling at the camera happily.

The next were just pictures from around the house: Lily painting, Remus and Sirius wrestling, Harry playing with a small, brown haired girl. Dumbledore looked closely at her, wondering who she could be. The child looked up at him, and a sudden feeling of coldness, or emptiness, went through him. He made a mental note to ask who she was.

Besides that, Dumbledore was delighted to see how well they were coming along. But one thing, one little thing, was nagging him in the back of his head. He walked over to a small hidden cabinet, and opened it slowly. Inside was his wand, on top of a silvery fabric. He pulled both out, and examined the cloak.

It was still in perfect condition, just as he had gotten it nearly a year and a half ago. He wondered what to do.

Should he give it back? Did they need it?

What if he found the stone?

He whipped the cloak on, thinking. Would he give it back?

AN: This chapter sucks. I wrote it in about an hour. Exciting things WILL happen soon, promise!
Please review! I love you all! Xoxo.