Albus must have dozed off still holding Minerva's hand in his, because he was awakened by the feeling of her fingers moving against his palm. His eyes opened, and before he could adjust to the low light in the hospital room, he heard a cough.

"Minerva?" he said, thinking he must still be dreaming.

He was answered by another cough, then a rasping sound.

"Albus?"

He leant over the bed so she could see his face just above hers.

"I'm here, my love."

"What … oh!" she gasped.

"Shall I get the Healer? Do you hurt?"

"No, I'm just … dry throat," she croaked.

"I'll get you some water. I'll need to check with the Healer first, though," he said, glad for the semi-darkness that hid his tears from her. He rose and was about to step out to find Pye when the man himself bustled into the room and over to the bed.

"Mrs Dumbledore, hello," he said. "Do you remember where you are?"

"St Mungo's," she whispered. "Water?"

"Certainly," said Pye. He took a glass from the counter and filled it with an Aguamenti. He conjured a straw and held it to her lips. "Stay lying down for the moment. Take small sips, or you might get sick."

When she had done so, Pye handed the glass to Dumbledore.

"How do you feel?" Pye asked.

"Tired," she said. "Belly hurts a bit."

"I'll get you something for it."

Pye glanced at Dumbledore. "Mrs Dumbledore, we did a procedure. It was necessary. That may be why your abdomen is tender."

"Procedure?"

Albus said, "Minerva, I …" He didn't know how to finish.

Pye stepped in to rescue him.

"We … that is, my colleagues and I, we had to remove your uterus. You were bleeding, and it was the only recourse."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I see."

"We can talk more about it when you're more rested. I'm sure you'll have questions for me."

"Yes. Thank you, Mr … ?"

"Pye. I'm going to run some tests now, if that's all right." She nodded, eyes still closed.

Pye passed his wand over her torso, then cast the numbers in the air, reading them carefully.

"Good. Much better," he said. "I should also do a quick physical exam to make sure there's no residual bleeding." He moved to the foot of her bed, and asked, "Can you slide your legs up?" She did, and he lifted the bedclothes with a wandless spell and made a quick assessment.

"Good," he said, lowering the bedclothes. "Do you still have any soreness down here?"

"Some. Not much."

"The potion for your belly will also take care of that. Do you need to use the loo?"

"No, I don't think so."

"All right. When you do, just press this button"—he gestured to a small, Charmed knob on the rail of the bed—" and one of the staff will come to assist you. I don't want you getting up just yet."

He made a few notes in his chart. "Try to rest as much as you can. Professor Dumbledore, you should rest too."

Albus nodded curtly. As Pye left, he called after him.

"Healer Pye? Would you mind alerting Madam Pomfrey that Mrs Dumbledore is awake? I believe you can just call her via the Floo to the Hogwarts infirmary."

"Will do," Pye said and left them alone.

Albus kissed Minerva's forehead, murmuring, "Oh, my love. I'm so sorry. So very, very sorry."

"Hush," she said. "Just sit with me."

After a few minutes, Pye returned and gave Minerva the pain potion. He checked her vital signs, then left again.

Albus watched Minerva's face relax. He was afraid when she closed her eyes again—he had worried for a terrifying time that he might never see them open again—but he knew she needed rest, and this gentle slumber seemed different from the deep, unreachable sleep that had enveloped her earlier.

He must have dozed off too, because his eyes snapped open when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Poppy whispered, "Pye said Minerva woke."

"Yes," said Albus. "Thank Merlin. She was alert, and we spoke. She's just resting now."

"I'm so glad, Albus. So glad. Pye says she's improving."

"Thanks to you and your Healer friend. I cannot find the words to thank you properly."

"I'm just happy she's better."

They both looked at Minerva's sleeping form for a few moments. Poppy broke the silence. "Would you like to take a break? I can sit with her."

"No, thank you. I want to be here when she wakes again."

"Then do you mind if I stay for a bit? I'd like to see her awake, if that's all right with you."

"Of course," said Albus. "You'll need to find your own chair, though, my dear. I'm afraid I'm too worn out even for that at the moment."

Poppy did so, and the two sat watching Minerva doze.

A few minutes later, a harried-looking mediwitch bustled in, saying, "There's a gentleman here who would like to see the patient. He says he's her father."

Minerva stirred, but didn't wake.

Albus stood. "I'll talk to him first. Is he outside?"

"He's in the reception area, sir. Shall I bring him up?"

"Yes, please."

When the mediwitch had gone, Albus told Poppy, "I wrote to Thorfinn. I think I should prepare him before he sees her, though."

"Yes, good idea," said Poppy, nodding. "Let me know if you need me to help explain anything. Otherwise, I'll just stay here."

Thorfinn McGonagall outpaced the young mediwitch who'd brought him up from Reception as soon as he spied Albus standing in the corridor outside Minerva's room. He strode up to his daughter's husband and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Albus," he said when they broke. "How is she?" Anguish was plainly visible on the weathered landscape of his face.

"Better, Thorfinn. Much better, thank Merlin. She woke just a few minutes ago. She's sleeping again, but the Healer says she's going to recover." Pye hadn't said that, exactly, but Albus felt entitled to polish the truth a bit for Minerva's father.

"I'm sorry, Albus," said Thorfinn. "About the baby."

"I am too. Before you see Minerva, there are a few things I should tell you."

"Yes?" Thorfinn's brow furrowed again.

"The Healers had to do some … unusual things to save her life."

"Such as?" Thorfinn McGonagall was as direct as his daughter.

"I allowed them to remove her womb."

"I see," was all Thorfinn said. It reminded Albus of Minerva's stoical reaction.

"Anything else?"

"She received some of my blood."

Thorfinn blanched. "Your blood?"

"It's a Muggle technique. It was … she was … things were desperate. The potions were inadequate," said Albus, willing the other man to understand. When McGonagall said nothing, he added, "She was dying, Thorfinn." His voice hitched.

Thorfinn said nothing but put a warm hand on Albus's shoulder as the taller man tried to regain his composure.

Albus wiped his moist eyes on his sleeve. "I can't seem to get control of myself."

"It's all right. I've been in your shoes. I ken," Thorfinn said. "I'd like to see my daughter now, if I may."

"Of course."

Poppy stood as the two men entered.

"Poppy," whispered Albus, "this is Thorfinn McGonagall, Minerva's father. Thorfinn, this is our school matron, Poppy Pomfrey."

McGonagall tore his eyes from his sleeping daughter to look at Poppy, who said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr McGonagall. Of course, I wish it were under happier circumstances. But she's doing much better, as I'm sure Albus has told you."

"Aye," replied Thorfinn. "Can you tell me, Madam Pomfrey, what happened to Minerva?"

Poppy glanced at Albus, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

"She had what we call a placental abruption," said Poppy, and she explained in short what that meant.

Albus added, "Madam Pomfrey was instrumental in saving Minerva's life. The Healer in charge said that without her quick thinking, Minerva would almost certainly have died."

"Sounds like we both owe you a debt of gratitude, Madam Pomfrey," said Thorfinn thickly.

"Not at all, Mr McGonagall. It's my job. And Minerva is very dear to me."

"Aye, she's written to me of what a good friend you've been to her."

If the light had been brighter, he would have seen Poppy flush.

"Well, it looks as if Minerva is well cared for," she said. "I'll head back to Hogwarts and let you have some privacy. I'll check back tomorrow morning, if it's all right, Albus."

"Of course, thank you, Poppy."

When she had gone, Thorfinn said, "Thanks for your letter, Albus. I was away from the house when it arrived, or I would have come sooner."

Dumbledore was privately glad for Thorfinn's delay. It was much easier to face Minerva's father now that the acute crisis had passed.

"I am so sorry about all this," he said.

"You've no call to be sorry, Albus. None."

"It's my fault."

"How is this your fault?" asked Thorfinn sharply, reminding Albus yet again of Minerva. Thorfinn's voice softened. "Albus, I ken some of what you're feeling. After Morrigan died, I felt for a time as if I had killed her. But it wasn't rational—not that feelings are meant to be so. People fall in love and have babies, either intentionally or by accident. Been doing it for millennia, and women have been dying of it for just as long. It's only the first risk we take when we create life. Life and death—they're intimately connected. You know that as well as anyone. So does Minerva. Learned it far too young, she did, and for a time, I figured that was my fault too. But it wasn't; it's just the way of things. And life goes on. You can't be afraid of it just because death is part of it. 'Tis the only sure thing about living."

"But I was afraid. I am still," Albus whispered. "I've never feared my own death—or at least, no more than any man—but Minerva … I can't bear the thought of it. After what you told me of her mother's death, I couldn't help thinking that I'd put her in danger."

Thorfinn patted Albus's arm. "You've been a good husband to her, Albus. But eventually, one of you will die. My Galleons are on you first, lad, since you've got a fair few years on her, but it could be either one of you. My advice is to forget about it and enjoy life while it's yours. Minerva will mend, and you'll go on. Give her joy and take some yourself. You have in the past, but if you let fear and guilty feelings get hold of you, you'll lose the knack for it."

"Thank you, Thorfinn. I'll try to remember."

"Now, man, go and get something to eat and have a rest. I'll stay here with her. Go on, now."

Albus didn't want to leave; he wanted to be there when Minerva woke again, but he thought Thorfinn might want some time alone with his daughter.

"All right. I'll be back soon, though."

Thorfinn nodded, then sat in the chair Albus had occupied for so many hours.

When the door clicked shut behind Albus, Minerva stirred and woke. She blinked several times.

"Da?"

"Yes, lass, it's me." He smiled and kissed her forehead.

"When did you come?"

"A little while ago. Albus owled me about what happened. I'm so sorry, my darling girl."

"I'm sorry too, Da," she whispered, and tears came upon her again. He sat on the edge of her bed and held her while she wept as he hadn't seen her do since the day they thought Albus had been killed in his duel with Gellert Grindelwald. When her shoulders stopped shaking, Thorfinn handed her a tartan handkerchief.

She dried her eyes and blew her nose.

"Where's Albus?"

"I sent your handsome lad to get something to eat. I understand he's been by your side since you took ill."

"How is he?"

"He's hurting. Blaming himself, of course. But I think he'll be fine now he knows you're going to be all right," her father answered. "But how are you, Minerva? Do you need for anything?"

"No, I'm just so very tired and thirsty. Would you mind getting me some water?"

As Thorfinn was lifting the straw to her lips, Albus returned.

"Hello, my love," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"All right. I might need to call the attendant, though." She pushed the button Pye had shown her, and in another minute, a green-robed mediwitch bustled in.

"Yes, what did you need, dear?"

"I need to use the loo, and my Healer said I'm not to get up." Minerva flushed, and tears stung her eyes again. She had never felt so helpless, but as much as she hated it, she knew she couldn't stand on her own. She didn't have pain when she was still, but movement still hurt her belly. And she wasn't sure her legs would hold her.

"Certainly, dear," said the mediwitch. "All right, gents, you heard the lady … out.". After she'd shooed Albus and Thorfinn out the door, she asked, "Bladder or bowels?"

"Bladder," answered Minerva. The mediwitch's brisk efficiency soothed Minerva like a tonic, perhaps because it was a stance she recognised.

The mediwitch took a beaker from the cabinet and drew the bedclothes down. "We measure everything that goes in and everything that comes out. Gives us something to do," she said, winking at Minerva. "I'm going to use a spell to empty your bladder. You should just feel a little warmth and maybe some tingling, all right?"

Minerva nodded, and the mediwitch drew her wand, pointed it at Minerva's belly, and said, "Evacuate Vesicam." Minerva's bladder relaxed.

When it was finished, the mediwitch gave a satisfied nod at the now-partially filled beaker and asked, "Better?"

"Yes, thank you." It hadn't been nearly as humiliating as Minerva had feared.

"Now, you've recently given birth," said the mediwitch gently. "The first time you move your bowels might be a touch painful, so I'm going to give you something to take, all right? To make things easier. When you've finished, you just give me a ring, and I'll be right in to make sure everything has gone smoothly."

Minerva flushed again, and the mediwitch said, "Ah, no need to be embarrassed, dear. I've given birth four times, and trust me when I tell you you'll be glad of the potion when the time comes." She took a phial from her pocket and put it on the bedside table. "Just swallow the lot when you're ready, and it'll do the trick, all right?" Minerva nodded. "Good girl. By the way, my name's Dorcas Diggle. I'm on duty all night."

"Thank you, Madam Diggle," said Minerva.

"Just Dorcas is fine. And you're welcome, dear," the mediwitch said and bustled out again.

Albus and Thorfinn came back in, and all at once, Minerva wanted desperately to be alone.

~oOo~

Three days later, Minerva was up and about, moving slowly and carefully. She was able to eat solid food and felt stronger.

Her father had gone home to Caithness but returned to London daily to visit her. Albus was still with her most of every day, despite her urging him not to neglect his duty to the school. Amelia Bones came by, embarrassed and awkward, plainly unsure of what to say to her grieving friend, but seeing Amelia was a balm to Minerva. Einar sent a sweet letter—he was on the Continent for a meeting, and their father had told him not to come visit until his sister was on her feet again. Einar's wife, Katherine, had sent a pretty shawl of soft green wool.

Poppy came to see Minerva daily, and she brought Pomona Sprout one afternoon. With her two friends, Minerva found herself laughing for the first time since her ordeal had begun, and although it ached her sore belly, she was glad to find she still could. The pleasure was followed by a sharp stab of pain that was not physical. How could she laugh when her baby, her child, could not and would never?

Poppy and Pomona both responded to the abrupt change in Minerva's mood in their own typical ways: Ravenclaw Poppy spoke soothing words, while Pomona's Hufflepuffian comfort was a wordless pat on the hand followed by a gentle hug. Later, Minerva reflected on the fact that while she could not claim a large circle of friends—her natural reserve precluded it—she was fortunate to have such dear ones.

Nevertheless, she felt cut off from them. If she had worried during her pregnancy that becoming a mother might create a barrier between herself and her childless friends, she now realised that it was nothing compared with the invisible gulf of pain that now separated her from them, and from everyone else.

Even Albus, who she knew was mourning the loss of their baby in his own way, occupied a different kind of grief. He had loved their child, no doubt, but he had not carried it within him, attuning himself as she had to the baby's daily habits—when he woke and slept, when he was restless, when he tickled her from the inside with his hiccoughs—learning to love them even before she had ever seen her baby's face.

Grief and loss, they were an island, Minerva found, and every day, every moment, she paced its perimeter, memorising its brutal landscape.