For a Child's Love

A/N: I'm not going to lie; I had a lot of fun with this chapter. I am looking forward to being a parent someday (though not anytime soon hopefully) and I always saw Minerva as an amazing mother. I could honestly write a story just revolving around Selene. Now that I think about it, when all is said and done, I just might. Anyway, I'm sorry for any OOCness in this chapter…the AUness sort of lends itself to that here, especially with Tom. In regards to the second half of this chapter, I would like to bring attention to the love of mothers. It was a mother's love that saved Harry when he was just a baby: Lily refused to let Voldemort murder her son, instead letting him kill her first in protection of her son, thus allowing Harry to have that protection. It was also a mother's love that saved Harry in the Forbidden Forrest during that final battle. Narcissa knew that the only way she would be able to save her own son is if Harry was dead. She could have cared less about who won the war, only that her child was safe.

Wow, that was a long note. Anyway, here is Chapter 14, 'For a Child's Love'.

"Tom and I never talked about having children in the time we had been dating or when we first got married. I was busy with my studies and he with his job. We had hardly been married a year when I found out I was pregnant. It was definitely unplanned, but we were husband and wife and there was no reason why we should not have children. When I first found out, I was worried about Tom's reaction to the news, but my fears of becoming a mother were swayed by his support of me. Our daughter, Selene, was born on April 3, 1947. I have so many precious memories of Selene growing up and I have narrowed it down to a few short memories."

"He had a daughter…"murmured Harry when Ron finished reading the letter. "There is some part of him somewhere out there."

"Not necessarily," said Ginny, laying her hand over his and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Ron shook his head as he glanced back over McGonagall's words. "I just can't picture him as a father. I mean, what did she call him? Daddy Voldemort?" Hermione huffed from her place across the table.

"I think you are forgetting that this wasn't just his child. McGonagall had a daughter, too. I mean, after everything Voldemort has said and done, we can't see him as a father figure, but I think Professor McGonagall would have made a great mother."

Harry nodded in agreement with Hermione's words but couldn't help but say with apprehension, "Just think about how powerful in child of theirs has to be…" His words hung in the air as an afterthought and one by one the four entered the memory.

Minerva was sitting cross legged on the couch in the middle of a flat. It was a different space then what they had been living in during school, much larger and very nice. The furniture was simple, but clean and the walls were covered in bookcases. One of the few pictures in the room was from their wedding day.

She was fiddling with a quilt that she had laid over her lap and had a very nervous look on her face. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, but there were pieces that had strayed. The front door opened to reveal Tom. He set down his bag and turned to greet her with a smile, but seeing the look on her face, he paused.

"Minerva?" He quickly crossed the room to sit down beside her. He put a concerned hand up to her cheek. "Are you alright? Did something happen-"

"No, no, nothing like that. I have something to tell you." She smiled weakly. She reached and grabbed his hand, bringing it down in her lap. "I'm…I'm…pregnant." Tom stared at her blankly and slowly tried to take in her words.

"Pregnant." He said the word as if he had never heard it before.

She brought his hand to her stomach and whispered, "Like a baby. Our baby." Minerva waited with baited breath for his response while he just kept sitting there staring back at her. "Tom?"

"Our baby?" his voice cracked when he spoke. "Ours?"

"Yes," she smiled. "I know we didn't plan this, but-"

"You and I?" He still seemed astonished that they had created something together.

"Yes, Tom," she laughed earnestly now. "And guess what? It's a girl!"

"A girl?"

"Can you even say more than two words?"

"A girl." Minerva leaned over kissed him on the lips. "We're having a girl."

The memory faded and it opened back up to Minerva lying down on the couch her eyes lightly shut. She was startled by the door opening, but once she saw it was her husband, she relaxed again.

"Where is Selene?" Tom was staring at her in alarm.

"She's finally sleeping…I'm trying to rest," murmured Minerva with her eyes still closed. Tom immediately rushed into the adjoining room and they saw Minerva sigh and roll over off the couch. "Tom, love, she's sleeping."

She walked to the doorway of the bedroom with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Leaning her head against the wood of the door, she smiled at the scene in front of her. Tom was hutched over the crib, watching their baby girl sleep soundly. Selene had dark hair covering her small head and looked to be only a couple of months old.

"You don't have to watch her every second," she said, walking up behind him to put her arms around his waist.

"I know…" Tom still had not removed his eyes from his daughter; his flesh and blood. "But she's so small and helpless."

"That's why we're here, my love." He finally turned around at her words and kissed her forehead. "To protect her."

The image faded and the four found that Minerva and Tom had moved into what appeared to be a small manor. A young girl about four years old came squealing down the staircase stark naked and soaking wet. Bubbles were floating along behind her, an obvious show of underage magic. Selene was giggling madly and calling back upstairs for her 'Daddy'. Tom appeared, equally wet though he was still clothed, and fuming in frustration.

"Selene you get back in that bathroom right now-Ugh!" A few of her rouge bubbles had flown up the staircase to pelt her father. Selene let out a gleeful laugh once more and ran toward one of the doors off to the side of the foyer. "No, Selene! Minerva!"

The little girl had managed to pull open the door which earned a shout from her mother. "Selene stop right there!" Upon further inspection, it could be seen that the door she had pulled open was her mother's office. There were books and papers all about and Minerva was standing in the middle of the small office holding out both of her arms as a way to fend off her young daughter. The little girl was creating a puddle at the doorway. Obviously Minerva did not want her office becoming a bath tub.

"Come here you little-"

"Tom!" warned Minerva, her lips pulled thin, not from anger, but probably from hiding her amusement as her eyes were twinkling with laughter. Selene shrieked as her father scooped her up and summoned a towel to wrap her in. Minerva crossed her arms in mock impatience and said, "Why, would the oh so great Tom Riddle, one of the brightest minds the world has ever seen, unable to give a four-year-old a bath?"

Tom huffed at her mocking and responded defensively with, "The bubbles attacked me."

"The bubbles attacked you?"

"She made them-oh, never you mind." He continued to dry his daughter off and Minerva must have taken pity on him because she cast a drying charm on his wet clothes.

"She was actually controlling them?" Tom nodded and looked down at Selene who burst into giggles again. "Well, we knew she was going to be a handful."

"She made bubbles attack me. Last week she managed to make her beans disappear. I swear one minute they were there and the next they weren't. And we both know she didn't eat them."

"Oh, give up Tom. She's going to keep us on our toes with underage magic. It's not a bad thing." Minerva ushered her family out of the office and began drying the mess Selene had left at the base of the stairs and the rest of the entry hall. Tom was still standing next to the office door with Selene in his arms. He was looking in bewilderment down at his child; she was smiling back up at him like he was a God among humans.

-BREAK-

Narcissa Malfoy paced outside the door of her own drawing room, hands clasped firmly behind her back and eyes low to the ground. She could hear screaming from the other side of the door; this was a common occurrence in her household these days. Every time the screaming stopped her heart clenched. Narcissa had learned long ago that as long as a person was screaming, it meant they were still alive.

She had lived this life for her entire married life; it was a family affair. Lucius and Bella. Her husband and sister. Narcissa never feared for her sister's safety. At least, not that sister. She had not spoken to Andromeda since the night before her older sister had married the Muggle. Andromeda could be dead and she would never know it. It hurt her heart, but that was a part of life- a part of the choices she could not take back.

Every time the Dark Lord called his followers together she feared for her husband's life. Narcissa herself never branded her body with the Dark Mark. Not that it mattered, for her life was still dedicated to the cause, even if her heart was not. All she ever wanted in life was to be a loving wife and mother. Now she was fighting a war from the inside out. So when Lucius was called behind closed doors and the Dark Lord's wrath was heard, she waited to heal his wounds. When she was younger, she would cry at the sound of her dear husband's pain. Now, she had no feeling; she was steeled with time and jaded by heartache.

Tonight, however, she was having a hard time holding back her tears. Not only was her husband in the room, but her son. Her dear son, Draco. He had the Dark Mark on his arm just like his father; he was there facing the Dark Lord's anger without her protection. Narcissa had always put her family first, but there was nothing in her life more important than her son. Nothing. She would die rather than see him suffer.

Narcissa was so involved in straining her ears for the sound of her son's anguish that she did not hear the click of heals on the stone floor of the hallway. She jumped at the sound of a woman's voice and turned around quickly, wand in hand.

"Are you not allowed in either?" Minerva McGonagall was standing behind her. Narcissa was surprised to see the woman was no longer wearing her normal robes. Instead, the new Mistress of the house was wearing an outfit that would have more commonly found itself on a pureblood wife like Narcissa. A simple corset with silver lacing worn around a satin dress embroidered with a shimmering silver. Tall and thin, Minerva was the epitome of all of her namesake: a goddess of war and wisdom. Though no one could describe the older witch as astonishingly beautiful, she certainly looked the part of a queen.

"No," said Narcissa wearily. She cast a regretful glance back at the door and wrung her hands behind her back. The look did not go unnoticed by McGonagall.

"Draco is in there?" The words came out as a question, but there was really no need for the other woman to answer. "It must be hard, not knowing."

Narcissa stared back at her in silence, but met her with a firm gaze. Suddenly, she turned away, as if she were ashamed. "I tried to be a good mother, you know…"

Minerva seemed startled by her words, but she responded neutrally. "Oh? And who said you haven't been a good mother?"

"My son is about to be tortured by a man who I let into my home. I took away the safe haven for my child. Draco only became a Death Eater to protect our family…he…is so much stronger than I am," she whispered and when she turned back to face her former professor, there were tears in her dark eyes. "I should be protecting him. I tried last year…I did everything that I could and…"

"It wasn't enough," finished Minerva. Tenderly, she reached out for Narcissa's trembling arm. "If there is one thing I can understand, it is what you are going through. I know you won't believe me, but trust me, my dear. I know what it is like to feel you have let your child down and it will destroy you if you let it."

"But what can I do?"

"Draco is still alive and he loves you. All you can do is love him in return." She released her grip on the other woman's arm and looked at the door. Quietly she added, "And ask for help."

Narcissa stared blankly at her for a moment. Then she raised her arm to her face and wiped away her tears and said with an unwavering voice, "Can you help me protect him, Professor?"

"Call me Minerva. I have a feeling we are going to be seeing a lot of one another." After a final glance at the loyal mother, she reached to grasp the door handle. "You may want to make yourself scarce. We wouldn't want anyone to think you had anything to do with this." Narcissa nodded and walked quickly away from the drawing room.

Swinging the doors open, Minerva marched into the room with her head held high and a stern look on her face. Silence met her as she walked through the room. Voldemort glared at her from his place at the head of the room. A man, she could not recognize him from all the blood, was withering at his feet.

"What is the meaning of this Minerva?" She did not flinch at the anger in his voice; she knew she would not suffer his wrath like his followers would. Therefore, she blatantly ignored his question. Scanning the room, she found the person she was searching for.

"Mr. Malfoy!" she snapped. Draco immediately flinched at the sound of his professor's voice. Nervously he stepped forward.

"Yes, Professor?" She could tell he was trying to hide his fear. Not a fear of her, but a fear of the horror he had just witnessed. He had never shown her weakness before and seeing it now spoke volumes of just how far in over his head the poor boy really was.

"If you will come with me, I need to see you for a moment." Draco did not move, but instead cast his eyes in the direction of his father and aunt. Lucius was watching McGonagall intently, but Bellatrix was paying attention to her nephew. Her dark eyes flicked toward Voldemort and Draco immediately understood.

Bowing his head, he asked, "My Lord, may I be excused?" Voldemort hissed in reply and turned his attention back to his victim. McGonagall motioned to the door and Draco immediately followed her towards the exit. Once they had reached the door, the Dark Lord called out to them.

"Do not interrupt me again, Minerva."

"Of course not," was her sweet and simple reply and the door closed behind the professor and her student.

Once they were outside, she watched as the young Malfoy's demeanor changed. Away from Voldemort he was in his element; no longer scared or hesitant. They walked for a couple of steps before he stopped and turned to face her.

"What do you want?" The malice she knew from him was back and he was glaring at her, just like he usually did in the classroom.

"Mr. Malfoy, you and I may never see eye to eye. However, I have known you since the first day you stepped foot into Hogwarts and I needn't remind you that I taught you to use a wand." She stared down at him with her most effective teacher stare, but wasn't surprised when he did not look away. "Do you want your family to survive this war, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco blinked at her question and did not answer. Instead he sneered and turned to walk up a stairway.

"Mr. Malfoy. I am not finished." Grimacing, he turned back from the fourth stair to face her again. "I have taught you for going on seven years now. I saw you more in that time than your own mother. Never once did I lie to you or treat you unfairly, no matter what you think. Do you trust me, Mr. Malfoy? And I want an answer this time."

"Yes, Professor."

"Good. Because sometimes the ally you need is not the one you want."

"What do you mean?"

"This is a war, Mr. Malfoy. Not a school skirmish or a Quidditch match. A man good with a wand may not live to see tomorrow. A man good with his choices can scrape up another day. You, Mr. Malfoy, need to choose whether or not you want your family to survive this war. And if you do, then I need to be someone that you trust completely."

"What can you do?"

"Help you survive." Her emerald eyes held Draco's sad gaze for what seemed like an eternity. Then slowly, he stepped back down to meet her in the hallway. Extending his right hand, he shook her own.

"You promise to keep them safe?" Minerva nodded and he released her hand and walked back up the stairs.

Preview: Amor est Vita

Lying on the grand staircase was Minerva. A ring of fire surrounded her, whipping against what seemed to be an invisible shield that would not allow the flames to touch her body. The heat reflected off her glistening face; her eyes were closed and her body was contorted against the steps. Never before had Harry seen someone so broken. Dead, yes. Horribly mutilated, yes. But seeing someone completely, physically broken, appearing as beautifully tragic as the young woman lying in the flames, was something that would be forever inscribed into his memory.