First off, I want to thank everyone for the fantastic reviews! You all inspired me to start this chapter right away. I have time for individual answers this time, yay! So check the bottom of the chapter and find your name! :P

Without further ado…

Observations and Unwelcome Thoughts

'Good afternoon, Minerva,' said a pleasant voice, and Minerva set down the parchment she was holding and turned to see her visitor. The afternoon was warm, and Smye and his crew were several feet away, pointing at the north side of the castle and comparing it to their blueprints.

It was Connor. Minerva felt a flash of emotion but didn't stop to analyse what it was. 'Good afternoon,' she replied briskly, turning back to the table. Connor stepped up to the other side of the table and glanced at her blueprints. Minerva stifled the urge to hide them from his view.

'Do you work out here every afternoon?' Connor asked amicably, smiling.

'Mornings,' Minerva replied, not looking up. 'As long as it's not raining.' Connor chuckled.

'It looks like a large job,' he commented, shifting a stack of paper, apparently impressed.

'It is,' Minerva said shortly, concentrating as she scratched away with her quill, wondering about what he wanted.

'I was hoping, Minerva,' Connor finally said, 'if when you were done, perhaps you would care for a walk? I have some questions – well, concerns, really – and I would very much appreciate it if you could help. I'm a bit nervous about working here.'

Minerva finally looked up. She was suspicious at first: there were plenty of other teachers that could help, why would he ask her? But as she looked into his smiling, worried face, she relented. She was the only one that knew him well and could answer any questions. She sighed.

'Of course. If you wait ten minutes, I will be done,' Minerva said crisply. Connor beamed.

'Thank you, Minerva! I thought we could go for a walk around the lake, seeing as the weather is so lovely.' Connor smiled again and added, 'Although I know you generally prefer clouds to blistering heat.'

Connor ambled away to wait for Minerva while she packed up. She filed everything away, thinking. Connor's knowledge of Minerva's preferred weather and been, she thought, a clear implication that he still remembered everything about her from their time together. He still knew her, knew what she liked and what she hated, what really made her furious and exactly what calmed her down. It also made her uncomfortable to realize how much she still knew about him.

But Minerva had changed since they'd broken up. She wasn't the same as she had been during their courtship. From the looks of things, Connor was much the same, but Minerva had altered, hadn't she? Her principles and fundamentals were the same, but now, at seventy-three, she was very different from her twenty-seven year-old self.

And there were other people who knew her just as well, if not better, than Connor did. Poppy and Pomona were her closest friends; they understood each other, almost to the point of non-verbal communication. Filius and Minerva had taught alongside each other for decades; they had become friends over the years. And Albus, always Albus. Minerva had known him for so long she couldn't remember a time when she hadn't. Certainly this counted for more than a mere three years of dating someone?

Minerva closed her bag with a snap and slung it over her shoulder. Connor was at her side at once. 'Ready?' he asked.

'Yes. Let's go,' Minerva said, and they set off around the lake. Connor's first question was about Quidditch schedules and teams: exactly what Minerva's would have been if she'd been in his place.

Albus was looking out of his office window. He'd been doing some work in his study when he'd decided to take a break and stretch his legs. He'd gotten up, glanced out the window, and stopped. There were Minerva and Connor, walking around the lake together. He breathed slowly for a moment, then sat down.

It wasn't really such a large deal. Minerva had dated men off and on during her years as a teacher, though working at a boarding school made relationships hard. He'd seen her with men before; why did this affect him so?

Perhaps it was because he knew Connor would be working here for two years. Albus was fairly confident that the jinx on the DADA job was lifted now that Lord Voldemort was dead for good, and the contract Connor had signed ensured a minimum of two years as a teacher. It was one thing knowing Minerva was going out to dinner with a man; it was entirely another to see her with him, knowing that she might be with him for at least the next twenty-four months. And what was more, Albus had hired him.

Albus wondered if Minerva wanted to date – for lack a better term – Connor again. Would she come tell him if they started dating, or would she consider it obvious enough to veto that and avoid a potentially awkward conversation? Albus, Connor and I are courting again. I love him. I thought you might like to know that. The fake-Minerva in Albus' head smiled, almost maliciously, and skipped out the door, holding fake-Connor's hand. Fake-Connor followed after her like an eager puppy. Albus cringed and shook his head, banishing the thoughts. That would be an awkward moment, to be sure.

Albus took a deep breath. He was going to admit something to himself. He was. Right now. He was going to feel so much better when he did. He was going to tell himself, in no uncertain terms, exactly how much he liked Mi –.

There was a loud knock at the door, interrupting his thoughts. Partly relieved, partly disappointed and partly amused, Albus stood and waved his hand at the door to open it. To his surprise, Mr McGonagall stood in the doorway.

'Mr McGonagall! Come in, come in,' Albus said, beckoning the man. It was almost alarming how prominent the family resemblance was between him and Minerva. It had been by his appearance that Albus had known who Bran was when he had knocked on his door the other night.

'Thank you, Professor Dumbledore,' Mr McGonagall said, sweeping inside. 'I hope I'm not bothering you?'

'Of course not! In fact, I was just taking a break. I never could work for too long on a nice day,' Albus said ruefully, shaking the man's hand. 'Would care for something to drink? Perhaps some pumpkin juice?' Bran nodded.

'That would be wonderful,' he said. 'And please, it's Bran.' Albus smiled.

'Then it's Albus to you,' he said, leading the way to his sitting room and pouring them both a cool drink. He sat in happy silence, perfectly content to let Bran come to the point in his own good time. He hummed as he sipped his drink.

'The Weird Sisters?' Bran asked, looking amused. Albus chuckled.

'I find it a charming group. The students like it,' he said, laughing. Bran joined in.

When the laughter died away, Bran finally began to talk. 'Is Hogwarts in very bad shape?' he asked.

It actually pained Albus to think of the school, his home in so many ways, crumbling and falling apart. 'Not terribly. There was some damage, and still is. But it's in good hands,' he said, thinking of Minerva and smiling.

Bran too, it seemed, was thinking of his sister. 'Minerva doesn't work every day, does she?' he asked.

'You haven't asked her?' Albus asked, already knowing the answer. Work was a sensitive subject for her.

'I thought it best to steer clear of that sort of conversation,' Bran replied. 'Didn't want her getting the wrong idea, see.'

'She usually just works mornings,' Albus replied. 'She wasn't thrilled when the crew came over. I think if she had it her way she'd have done the whole thing herself.'

'That sounds like her,' Bran said. He hesitated. 'I was wondering…as she…talked…at all, about what happened last month? Or last year, really. She hasn't told me anything, and I don't know if that's because she can't talk about it, or is shielding me from something.'

Albus considered carefully. He didn't want to betray Minerva's trust, but this was her brother, and he knew first-hand how much she loved him. 'Why do you ask me?' Albus asked. 'I do not mind, certainly, but I would have thought that Madam Pomfrey, perhaps, or Professor Sprout, would have been the first to think of.' Bran now looked embarrassed.

'I'm not sure. I suppose…when I think of Minerva talking about something that's hard for her, or that she feels uncomfortable about, you are usually the person I think of. I apologize if I'm wrong,' Bran hastened to add, 'I just thought…'

Albus let him trail off. 'You're not wrong,' he said quietly after a long moment. 'She has spoken, not much, but she has. Mostly about her students, during the year, watching them being tortured and disappearing. I think there was one time that the Death Eaters threatened her, and all the teachers, but I honestly do believe that it caused her more pain, emotionally and physically, to watch the students suffer.'

Bran looked worried. 'Death Eaters? Did they…hurt her, do you think?'

Albus felt terrible. This wasn't something he wanted to think about, let alone talk about, and with Minerva's brother no less. Albus was supposed to be dead. He knew that. He simply hadn't been ready to die – and if it wasn't too arrogant to say so, he hadn't thought that the wizarding world was ready for him to die either.

'I do not know,' Albus said slowly, hating the words as they came out of his mouth, 'but I…I would say yes. Death Eaters know no bounds.'

He said nothing else.

Bran was pale. 'I knew there was something she wasn't telling me.'

Albus wanted to keep his mouth shut, knowing that what he was about to say probably wouldn't be very much appreciated by Bran. 'She probably didn't consider it important,' he said quietly.

As suspected, Bran's eyes narrowed. 'What do you mean? Having the Unforgivables used on you seems pretty important to me!'

'It is important,' Albus said quietly. 'You have no idea how much it pained me, how much it pains me now, that Minerva and others were hurt while I was alive. But Minerva's focus was the students. It has always been and it will always be – outside of her family, of course.'

Bran was silent for a moment. 'Thank you,' he finally said. There was another long pause, this one more comfortable.

'You mean a lot to her, you know,' Bran said. 'She'd kill me if she heard me, but it's true.' Albus said nothing, but bowed his head, thinking of his thoughts from earlier, about Minerva and Connor. And about Minerva and himself. He liked Minerva. He liked her far too much for his own good.

'Where were you at lunch?' Poppy asked, tucking in to a steak and kidney pie. It was tea time, and she, Pomona and Minerva were eating together in her sitting room.

'I worked this afternoon,' Minerva explained, blowing on a mouthful. 'I spent the morning with Bran, but he had something to do this afternoon so I decided to work instead.'

'What time did you start working?' Pomona asked, already helping herself to treacle tart.

Minerva shrugged. 'Bran got here around nine… 'round twelve, I suppose.'

'And you've been working since then?' Pomona continued, with a pointed glance at the clock on the mantle, which read five-thirty.

'No,' Minerva snapped. 'If you must know, Connor came out at four to ask questions about working here.'

Pomona and Poppy exchanged a look that said they'd rather be giggling. 'And?' Poppy asked.

'And nothing,' Minerva replied briskly. 'We took a walk around the lake, and I answered all the questions he had.'

'A walk around the lake? How did that go?' Poppy asked, hiding a grin.

It didn't fool Minerva. 'What are you getting at?' she snapped.

'Please, Minerva,' Pomona said, 'don't try this. We know you and Connor courted for a long time, years ago. And from our perspective, he certainly seemed delighted to find you here. That's not the sort of reaction one gets from a man you broke up with and then works with years later.'

Minerva pursed her lips but didn't reply. She remembered Connor's last comment as they had strolled around the lake.

'So,' he'd said, hands in his robe pockets, 'you're the deputy.' It hadn't been a question, but Minerva had answered anyway.

'Yes,' she'd said. 'I have been for years.'

'Quite the step up from Transfiguration research,' he'd commented, and Minerva had immediately tensed.

'I suppose so,' she'd replied carefully.

'I remember all of the work you did, on Animagi, and Gamp's Law…when you systematically went through and tore apart each article in Transfiguration Today,' Connor had continued in a reminiscent sort of voice. He had turned to her and smiled ruefully. 'I suppose it was rather ridiculous of me to expect you to give that all up. I never apologized for that, did I?'

Minerva was utterly silent. She had decided that silence was the safest thing to maintain.

'Yes, well,' Connor had continued hastily when she had failed to answer. 'I apologize now, Minerva, for what I did back then. I am glad in way that you refused to listen to me, stayed focused…otherwise, Hogwarts would have been deprived of a truly amazing witch.'

Connor had looked at her, his kind eyes soft and warm, utterly sincere. Minerva could no longer get away with saying nothing. The way he had said it had implied that Connor was not only referring to her powers and capabilities as a witch, but to her person. The person that he had loved.

'Thank you,' she finally said. 'I am glad, as well. Hogwarts is my home now, and I would not give it up for anything.' She had meant it as a warning, perhaps; Connor had smiled and touched her hand gently. Minerva had internally shrieked.

'Well, I must go to tea. Good afternoon, Connor,' Minerva had said briskly, and had swept off without waiting for an answer.

'Good-bye, and thank you, Minerva!' Connor had called after her cheerfully.

'Minerva?' Pomona's voice jerked Minerva back to the present.

'What?' she snapped. 'Nothing happened, Pomona. My life is generally not terribly interesting.'

'Enough, both of you,' Poppy said decidedly, as Pomona opened her mouth to retaliate. 'Pomona, if Minerva doesn't want to talk to us, then don't persist. Minerva, we don't intend any harm, so stop snapping at us.'

Minerva was silent for a moment. They were right, she admitted to herself. She was tense and irritated, conflicted about Connor and Albus, and annoyed that she couldn't fully enjoy her brother's presence because of it. Perhaps talking to her friends would help.

'Fine,' she said. 'Here it is: I'm suspicious that Connor may still be in love with me, or at least that he thinks he is. I know that Trudy is overjoyed that he is here, and that if something negative happens with Connor and me, that she will be very hurt. I'm irritated that I have to work and deal with this when Bran is here. Also,' she continued, brusquely, 'Also, I don't think that I would like Albus to think that I may still be in love with Connor.' She stopped, then; 'Happy?'

Pomona and Poppy were clearly torn between delight, that she had told them all of this drama, and empathy, that their friend had to deal with all of this.

The delight won over. They grinned. 'Well,' Pomona said, diving right in and rubbing her hands together, 'do you think you may still be in love with Connor?'

'I doubt it,' Minerva replied crisply. 'That relationship ended the moment he insulted my honour.' Poppy and Pomona smiled. 'Insulted her honour,' indeed. 'I find it irritating that all of this has invaded in on Hogwarts. This was my new life, when I started here. I left the old one behind.'

'And now you feel as though it's caught up to you?' Pomona suggested. The friendly witch was usually sensitive to how others were feeling, but Minerva shook her head.

'I never ran away from it,' she said disapprovingly (as a Gryffindor, cowardice was something she was never comfortable with). 'I just left it behind. I felt as though it had never existed; I was staring anew, with a fresh slate. I got my life right the second time.'

'It's Dumbledore,' Pomona said.

'What?' Minerva demanded. 'What's Dumbledore?'

'Your second chance, Minerva,' said Pomona. 'Dumbledore always believed in second chances, and although you hadn't done anything evil or corrupt, a second chance is still a second chance. And that's what you got.'

'I suppose so,' Minerva sniffed. She always felt uptight whenever Albus was mentioned, and to be perfectly honest she didn't quite know why.

The rest of the evening passed without incident, and it was late when Minerva finally made it to bed. Her brother had not yet come in, but she was not particularly worried. Bran could take care of himself, and she was tired.

As it happened, Bran was tired as well. He was trying to find his way to Minerva's rooms, because although Dumbledore had offered the guest rooms, Minerva had offered her couch, and Bran preferred to be close to her.

At the moment, though, Bran was rather far away from his sister. He was, he admitted to himself, utterly lost, with no idea where he was. He'd come in from the Ministry meeting (with a quite good result) and promptly gotten lost. Perfect.

A noise behind him instinctively made him turn and raise his wand, a habit he feared he would never lose.

It was the new Muggle Studies teacher, what's-her-name Crawford. She looked around the corner timidly and approached him slowly when he lowered his wand apologetically.

'Sorry,' he told her. 'Old habits.'

She nodded as if she understood. 'That's alright,' she replied. 'Were you looking for Professor McGonagall?'

Bran could never get used to that. He was accustomed to seeing Minerva's former students come up to her and speak with her, shake her hand, still calling her 'Professor' though they'd left Hogwarts a long time ago. But he could never see Minerva as other adults did, ones Minerva had never taught: as a strict teacher. Minerva was the most passionate woman he knew, and to hear people call her 'Professor McGonagall' when they'd never been her students still made him do a momentary double-take.

'Yes,' he told the woman – Merlin, what was her name? – sheepishly. 'Erm, you wouldn't happen to know where her rooms are, would you?' Trudy – aha! that was her name – smiled brightly.

'Sure,' she said, 'I can find them. I hope.' Bran laughed, and Trudy's face glowed in the semi-darkness.

So they set off, around corridors and up staircases, perhaps taking a slight detour, chatting amicably. Trudy asked him how long he would be allowed to stay if he was only visiting his sister.

'Actually,' Bran told her with a confidential smile, 'Don't tell Minerva, but I just appealed to the Ministry and got a job supervising the reconstruction of the castle. That's what I do, by the way – repair magical architecture.' Trudy nodded; apparently she'd already known. 'So I came here for Minerva and wondered how I could stay longer – and came up with this! So I'll actually be here a few more weeks, perhaps a couple of months.'

Trudy looked strangely happy at that. 'That's lovely,' she said. 'Professor McGonagall will be very pleased.'

'Yeah, reckon so,' Bran said, casting Trudy a sideways glance.

They arrived at Minerva's door. 'Well, here it is,' Trudy said, gesturing.

'Thanks very much,' Bran replied. Trudy stood there for a moment longer, smiling at him.

'I'll see you tomorrow, maybe?' Trudy suggested, looking oddly hopeful.

'Yes, probably,' Bran said. 'My new job starts tomorrow, so…' he trailed off. Trudy appeared to be listening with utmost attention.

'Well, good-night, Bran,' said Trudy, and disappeared into the darkness. Bran turned to go inside. Trudy was a strange one.

TBC

Don't forget to review! :D

And the individual reviews…

penny2287: sorry for the slow pace. as I said earlier, this story is a long one, and at times, slow. I know I've said this before, but it will pick up – this chapter is hopefully the beginning. It doesn't always come out the way I thought it would.

VictoriaGr: hopefully, this chapter will satisfy at least some of your curiosity… enjoy!

sevy MMAD: thank, thank, THANK you! Your reviews are always so wonderful; I'm glad that I can take the time to answer. :) I'm glad that you're enjoying all the character development and that you're not getting bored or irritated with the pace. I am also happy that you find Albus and Minerva as canon as I can make them, because these two in particular, I find, are the hardest to accurately portray. :) As for Bran, I am so happy you like him! I like him too, I have to admit. He's almost the perfect older brother (but not quite – his flaws are coming. Otherwise, where's the realism? :P) Finally, you're very welcome – but I have to thank you for your utterly fantastic reviews and high (probably undeserved) opinion of my writing. :D

greenlover2: glad you're enjoying, thanks for the review. That's all I ask for :)

eternal vampire: I guess all men are like that: too thick to see what's right in front of them ;) thanks for the reassurance about the speed of the fic, and hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Jen2281: I will definitely keep writing…unless people start hating the story ;) thanks!

blue-eye15: thank you. Thank you so much. :)

Darla: I know the amount of OCs is getting kind of high, but most of them do have significant roles to play. Some aren't entirely mandatory, so to speak, but they do have a part in the story. another reason, I have to admit, was that I needed more teachers, and there were no pre-existing ones I could pick before getting ridiculous, so I resorted to OCs. And hopefully, you will like one or two of them enough to overlook their OC-ness.

bkfl: not much of a plot, but I'm glad you like it. :)

That's it for now! Don't forget to review, tell me what you liked, hated, etc. :) 'Til next time!