Ch 2

A/N: Hey, glad you stuck with me so far. I know the last chapter was hard. You have no idea how hard it was for me to write. I just wanted to ensure that you knew it was not just one really sad one shot so I thought I'd get this up fast. Please read and review.

…

Today was the day that she would never forget. Tuesday, September 8, 1959, the day that changed her life forever. As she leaned back from the toilet where she'd just deposited the contents of her breakfast, she finally had to stop kidding herself. She slumped back against the wall curling into a ball. Outside she heard knocking, "Minerva are you okay?" the voice of her best friend and roommate Poppy asked.

"I'm fine." She answered shakily getting to her feet.

"Don't lie to me, I heard you." Poppy retorted, sounding more like a mother than a best friend.

"Poppy, I swear I'm fine," Minerva looked at her reflection in the mirror, knowing instantly that if she were to open the door Poppy would find out the truth.

"Okay," she relented, backing away from the door. Poppy was worried about her friend, she hadn't been herself of late. She hadn't eaten much, she always seemed irritable, and now getting sick this morning. If she thought about it she would say she was… 'No it can't be' she thought. "I'm headed to work. I'll see you tonight."

"Have a good day." Minerva called through the door. She continued to stare at her reflection, taking in the pale skin, much paler than normal. Sweat was beading on her forehead, and her eyes bright red. Simply she looked a mess.

She'd been trying to convince herself for the better part of a month that she'd been wrong, but her actions this morning confirmed her greatest fear. Minerva McGonagall, top witch in her class, was pregnant. Dropping down to the floor again tears started spilling onto her cheeks. She didn't know how she was possibly going to deal with this. She had just moved out of her parent's house. She and Poppy had found a wonderful flat, just above Flourish and Blotts, where she'd gotten her first job ever not more than a week ago. What was she going to tell everyone? How could she tell her family? They'd never be able to look at her again. How was she going to tell Poppy? She would be so disappointed in her. Worst of all, how was she going to tell Albus?

She couldn't bear to think about it. She knew that she should tell him, but she also couldn't face him again. They'd decided to remain friends, but after what had happened between them she knew that wouldn't be possible. It was true that she loved him, more than she thought conceivable. However, it's not what he wanted. 'Of course that's not what he wants.' She thought to herself, 'I'm too young, naïve, inexperienced for him. He could never want to be with me.'

With these thoughts spurning her on her body continued to wrack with sobs. She knew that this was all her fault. She'd gone to him that night, not the other way around. She'd been the initiatior, he'd simply tried to keep away, but with the alcohol she'd left him little choice. What had she done?

Her life was suddenly over. She was going to be a mother. That's all there was to it.

She thought about her options. She was going to be an Auror next spring, there was no way they were going to let her into the program if she was a mother. If she told Albus she knew that he would want to do the honorable thing and marry her, just because of the baby, but that's not what she wanted. 'I want him to want me, because of me, not because I'm carrying his child!' she thought adamantly.

'But this baby needs a chance.' She finally thought to herself. 'There's only one thing to do.'

…

After a quick stop off at St. Mungo's to confirm her fears, an hour later Minerva stood in front of the Ministry of Magic. She stepped silently into the lift not noticing or caring about anyone around her. She pressed the button for level five and waited, staring at her shoes, until a disembodied voice announced "Level five, Department of International Magical Cooperation." She left the lift, still not looking up. She passed doors emboldened with different names such as, International Confederation of Wizards: British Seats, International Magical Office of Law, and International Magical Trading Standards Body, until she came to the door she was looking for. Opening it she stepped into the room. It was as cold and foreboding as the rest of the ministry, but that didn't stop her. She stepped up to the counter, seeing a squat little witch with cat's eye glasses scratching away with a quill that looked well worn on some forms. She cleared her throat announcing her arrival. The little witch looked up from her paperwork, her eyes passing over Minerva's figure quickly, and then saying without emotion, "Can I help you?"

"Yes," Minerva answered, her voice quavering slightly. "My name is Minerva McGonagall. I owled a few hours ago."

"Oh yes Miss McGonagall, please have a seat. We'll be with you shortly." The witch answered returning to her papers, not giving her another look.

Minerva sat on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs, waiting for someone, anyone to call her name. After what seemed like a lifetime a tall wizard in orange robes called her name. She got to her feet and followed him into a small office. He motioned for her to sit, and he joined her behind a large desk.

"Good afternoon Miss McGonagall. My name is Augustus Peabody. What can I do for you today?" He asked kindly, crossing his arms in front of him.

She swallowed hard, "Well, I'm pregnant." She started, the words sounding strange to her own ears. It was the first time she allowed herself to say it, she still could barely believe it.

He smiled at her, "That's usually why one is here."

She relaxed a bit from his slight joke, "I need to give the baby up."

"I see," he said leaning back in his chair. "Well there's some paper work we'll be needing," he pointed his wand at a file cabinet and a stack of paper floated out onto his desk. "How far along are you?"

She sighed, "Nearly three months."

"Do you know who the father is?" He asked not looking up.

Infuriated she answered, "Of course I do! What kind of woman do you take me for!?"

"I'm sorry Miss McGonagall," he answered, trying to calm her down. "I meant no offense. It's just that we sometimes get… interesting cases."

"Offense taken!" she huffed.

"Please Miss McGonagall, let's continue."

She nodded, but said no more.

"Can you tell me the name of the Father?"

"NO!" she shouted, getting to her feet. Looking alarmed he dropped his quill monetarily. "I'm sorry, but the Father can never know about this."

"Please calm down. I promise, he needs never know you were here."

She sat back down, willing her breath to return to normal. The rest of the questions went relatively easily.

As she left the Ministry she thought again about what she'd agreed to. She was going to have this baby, but it was never to be her's. Willing herself not to cry she apparated home. She had promised to deliver the baby, and then give it away. Her heart constricted as she thought about it. The love that she and Albus made had created this little being inside of her, and now she was going to give it away as if it were nothing.

She lay down on her bed and sobbed again. She knew it was the only choice, but that didn't make it feel any better. This was the only way that she could both have her life and never let Albus know. She cried herself to sleep that night, dreaming about a little girl with her black hair and his blue eyes.

….

Her little girl was born on a stormy Monday night. Minerva got to hold her for no more than a minute. Her baby, the one thing she would love more than life itself, was ripped away from her by her own choice. Before she was taken Minerva got to give her one thing, her name, Victoria. "May she be victorious against all that comes." Minerva said handing the little bundle of blankets back to the mediwitches, lying back, tears streaming down her cheeks once again.