A/N: I have two new chapters for you today. Two because the second one is very short and very different. Also, it brings us very close to the end of part 2 of this story.

44. One More Fight

For the first time in a long time Minerva felt not hope – since there was still precious little reason for that – but a kind of fierce determination. Even if this war were to drag on for several more years, they would never give up.

The Order had received an infusion of fresh, young blood because Albus had recruited almost all of Minerva's best students immediately upon their graduation from Hogwarts. Recruitment wasn't even the right word for it. Former students like Potter and Black had practically been champing at the bit to join the fight.

Minerva had felt uneasy at the thought of letting these incredibly young men and women risk their lives after she had spent seven long years protecting them. But there was no other way. They were the ones who still had long lives ahead of them – lives that involved children and hopefully, eventually, happiness. In many ways, this was now their fight, their future, more than it was Albus' and Minerva's.

And speaking of the future, another reason for the tiniest of grins on Minerva's face was the fact that Professor Narramore had fled the castle. Without breathing one word to anyone, she had left in the middle of the night. Most likely, her intention was to get out of the country altogether, thinking she would be safer far away from the British Isles. It was the single most foolish thing the woman had ever done – and that was to say something. Nowhere on this entire planet would she be as safe as she had been under the roof and protection of Albus Dumbledore.

Naturally, Minerva wasn't about to shed a tear over her loss. Hogwarts was now missing a Divination teacher, which would have been a minor catastrophe under different circumstances, but in this particular case Minerva tried to persuade Albus to just keep it that way.

"To discontinue a subject that has been taught at Hogwarts for hundreds of years might be one controversial decision too much for the governors to accept," Albus mused.

"You really think after everything you have done since they made you headmaster and with a war going on, they will pick a fight with you over whether or not the students get to play with tea leaves?" Minerva argued.

Albus looked at her with a mild, affectionate smile on his lips. "So you want to use this war as an excuse to pursue your personal vendetta against the art of Divination?"

She shrugged. "Well, it's got to be good for something, doesn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it does," Albus said thoughtfully.

Minerva perched on the armrest of his chair. "Do you remember when you were first appointed headmaster? How good it felt to take this already great school and turn it into the Hogwarts we had always wanted it to be? The one we could truly be proud of? War or not, you can still do that."

"I must admit it makes for a nice change to deal with staff problems again rather than matters of life and death," Albus agreed.

"It doesn't have to be a problem. Not if you just… make it go away." Minerva gave him a little nudge.

Albus chuckled. "I forgot how adorable you can be when you're trying to talk me into something you want."

"It's not just what I want," Minerva said with a huff. "Or do I also need to remind you that it was you who set me on this warpath?"

"I did no such thing," Albus protested.

"Really? What did you think would happen when you suggested that I should sit in on one of Professor Narramore's classes before choosing to take Divination?"

"Well…" Albus said and then faltered. "All right, I admit that I might have done a poor job of hiding my own bias."

Minerva's eyes lit up. "Does that mean you'll do it?"

"I will have to meet with one applicant first. She's the great-great-granddaughter of a very gifted Seer…"

"Assuming there is such a thing," Minerva muttered.

"Be that as it may, this war is definitely no excuse not to show her some common courtesy. I need to make an effort at least. After that, I can certainly convince the governors that I have more important things to do than to keep searching for a suitable teacher," Albus said, and that was good enough for Minerva.

She didn't care who this woman was related to, she would never convince her or Albus that she could predict so much as the weather for tomorrow.

And so Minerva dared to dream of a Divination-free Hogwarts. Her dream lasted for exactly one week.

That's when Albus came bursting into her office, having just returned from meeting this Trelawney woman at the Hog's Head upon her request. Without a word, he dropped a scroll of parchment on Minerva's desk.

"What the bloody hell is this?" she asked, lifting the scroll with two fingers as though it might be contagious.

"It's the contract for our new Divination teacher," Albus replied simply.

Minerva looked up at him, dumbfounded. "What happened? You said you would only meet with her to humour her and to have a good reason to scratch the subject from the curriculum!"

"I changed my mind."

"Whatever for?"

"I asked her to make a prediction for me and she did," Albus said with an almost frighteningly intense and wild look in his eyes. He pressed a hard kiss to her slightly open mouth and stormed out of her office, his silver hair and beard flying.

Gobsmacked, Minerva was left to stare after him.

July had used to be one of Minerva's favourite months in the year, but over the course of this war things had changed dramatically. For one thing, she and Albus no longer had time to enjoy the freedom of the summer months. Also, Hogwarts Castle was not empty.

Since it was a lot safer here than anywhere out there, many teachers had made the decision to stay for the holidays in recent years. Some even invited family members to stay with them for a while. Technically, that was not allowed, but neither Albus nor Minerva had any interest in kicking anyone out of the castle. No one understood the need to keep your family close better than Minerva.

In any case, she would have rather let all fifteen of Oldroyd's grand- and great-grandchildren stay in the castle permanently than one particular new colleague of hers.

"I'm on a very strict and very special diet. It's of vital importance for my aura," Sybill Trelawney informed her.

Minerva tried and failed to look the least bit interested. "And why exactly are you telling me this?"

"So you can let the kitchen know, of course!"

"I'm the deputy headmistress, not your handmaid," Minerva replied in annoyance.

Trelawney wilfully overlooked her irritation. "And as deputy headmistress, isn't it your job to handle all requests from the staff? Since Dumbledore won't see anyone unless it's important, and apparently the health of his teachers is of no interest to him."

Minerva gritted her teeth so she wouldn't retaliate for that dig at Albus. "I'm here to handle all reasonable requests, yes."

"Then will you please also let the house-elves know that I'll be eating my dinner up in my rooms? People look to me for guidance, so I can't mingle with those who are less seeing."

For about a day or so, Minerva had tried to give her new colleague a chance, thinking she might be different than Narramore. But the two of them were clearly cut from exactly the same cloth.

"Well, why didn't you say so right away? I will be glad to let the kitchens know that you won't be gracing us with your presence in the future," Minerva said, and the geniality in her voice wasn't even completely fake. The less she would get to see of Sybill Trelawney, the better. She had no idea how she had managed to impress Albus so much that he had decided to hire her on the spot.

Taking her smile at face value, Trelawney said, "Thank you, Minerva. That is a very strong name, by the way."

Caught off guard, Minerva wondered if she should be polite enough to thank her for that compliment. Perhaps she had made a bit of a snap judgment.

Then Trelawney continued, "It's understandable that you're struggling to bear it well. I'd be happy to offer you a consultation – free of charge, of course, since you're a colleague."

"I'm not struggling," Minerva said slowly, her anger held in check only by her complete surprise at Trelawney's presumptuousness.

"It's not unusual. Especially in firstborns who lost a younger sibling."

In the blink of an eye, Minerva's surprise moved aside to allow her anger to fully manifest itself. "Is that how you get people to pay for your ridiculous card tricks? By preying on their loss and offering them absolution for their worst failures?" Minerva raged. "That's despicable!"

Trelawney had the audacity to smile at her. "Oh, but my dear Minerva, I did not call your brother's death a failure on your part at all. You're the one who just did that." She wrapped her shawl tighter around her neck and started to walk off. "Like I said, come and see me any time. Free of charge!"

It took all of Minerva's willpower not to use that shawl to strangle her.

As the day progressed, Minerva convinced herself not to let anything that woman had said get to her. But she was still in a bad mood, so she was unexpectedly surprised in a good way when she got a visitor who might change that.

"Augusta! What a nice surprise!" Minerva said and offered her old friend and former classmate to take a seat in her office. "What brings you to Hogwarts?"

"Well, as of a few hours ago, I am a grandmother," Augusta told her with a proud smile on her face.

Minerva reached over to squeeze her hand. "That's wonderful. Congratulations."

"Yes, a strapping baby boy. Looks just like his granny!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.

"I'm sure he does," Minerva agreed. "But you needn't have come all this way to tell me this in person. It's a little early to bribe me into giving him special treatment, isn't it?"

Augusta snorted. "Oh please, I know better than to try and bribe Minerva McGonagall. No, no, I want you to be as strict as possible with Neville. Make a real man out of him."

"Well, he's barely even a boy yet, so…" Minerva's voice trailed off. She didn't mind catching up with her friend. Her mood was a lot better already. But she was honestly surprised by her unexpected visit. Travelling wasn't as safe as it used to be, so it would have made a lot more sense to send an owl with the news.

"I guess I just want to know what the masterplan is," Augusta admitted.

That did nothing to clear Minerva's confusion. "What masterplan?"

"Dumbledore's masterplan. To make sure my boy will even get to be a man one day. All I get from Frank and Alice are the same old platitudes about not giving up the fight, and that is all well and good, but there must be something else. So I thought I'd come to talk to Dumbledore myself."

Minerva suppressed a sigh. Augusta was a good friend, but there was no way Minerva would let her see Albus to demand whatever answer she thought she wanted to hear. "I'm afraid he's not available right now. But how about a cup of tea while you wait?" she suggested, and when Augusta agreed, Minerva added a generous amount of whisky.

She then spent the rest of the evening distracting Augusta from insisting to talk to Albus. And also distracting herself from the day she'd had. It did both of them some good and it was past midnight when Augusta finally agreed to leave.

As if on cue, Albus showed up shortly afterwards. "You have exceptional timing," Minerva told him.

"Why is that?"

"Up until a few minutes ago, you would have come face to face with a very emotional Augusta Longbottom," Minerva explained. "Apparently, that's a side effect of becoming a grandmother."

"Ah, boy or girl?" Albus asked quickly.

"A boy." To Minerva's surprise, that answer seemed to make him a little sad. "Were you hoping for a girl?"

"Aren't you always saying that the world needs more highly intelligent witches such as yourself?" Albus replied, but it felt like a clever way not to truly answer her question.

Minerva hadn't decided yet whether to dig deeper or not when a stag Patronus delivered more news.

"Lily had the baby. It's a boy. We named him Harry!"

"Well," Minerva said with a smile on her face while the Patronus faded, "it looks as if the world got two healthy, happy and hopefully highly intelligent young wizards instead." She couldn't have been happier for her former students. "I think that is just as much cause for hope, don't you?"

Looking deeply thoughtful, Albus nodded. "As is any child brave enough to face this life."

"They didn't really get a say in that," Minerva pointed out. "They will have to trust that their parents made the right choice for them. And then hope that no one accuses them of failing to live up to their own name."

"Why would anyone make such an absurd accusation?"

"You'll have to ask that woman you insisted on hiring because that's what she told me today."

"I doubt she meant it that way," Albus said cautiously. "And even if she did, you should know that she couldn't have been more wrong."

"Should I?" Minerva walked over to the window and leaned against the sill. "I don't really feel like a wise warrior goddess right now."

Albus followed her. "You may not feel like it, but you are all of those things."

She quirked an eyebrow at him the way he always liked to do. "Really? A goddess?"

His lips twitched. Perhaps the joyous news of the two young babies born into the Order had put him in a good mood. That had become a rare occurrence and, incidentally, it was also the best way to soften her up. "Well, as long as you're still cross with me for hiring Sybill and I have to find a way to make it up to you, then yes, you are definitely a goddess to me."

"Ridiculous compliments are not the way to do it."

Albus rested his hands on the windowsill to either side of Minerva, pinning her in place and fixing his eyes on hers. "It's not any more ridiculous than the way people think of me. In times like these, we all need to believe in something bigger than us. So, while unwise and unwarranted, I let them look up to me and I carry their hopes because I know they need me to."

"I know," Minerva sighed. "I wish I could make that easier for you."

"Oh, but you do," Albus told her. "Because while I carry their hopes, you carry mine."

There was a moment or two of silence. "Fine. You're forgiven," Minerva said and burrowed into him. "But I thought we had agreed that we should actually put our hopes in the children."

"Yes," Albus said softly, letting go of the windowsill to hold her. "But the question is: which one?"

The large headmaster's desk was covered in scrolls of parchment and blots of fresh ink as Albus and Minerva each tried to solve a different problem. Albus was trying to find them yet another witch or wizard brave enough to accept the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, while Minerva was trying to draw up the timetables without knowing how many teachers they would actually have available in the new school year.

She had just been about to propose a break when the office door was thrown open rather unceremoniously, and without bothering to knock first, by James Potter.

His black hair was even messier than usual, the glasses on his nose were crooked and he had dark circles under his eyes. The reason for his obvious lack of sleep was right there in his arms, swaddled in a blanket with a Golden Snitch on it. The whole scene could have been comical if James had looked even remotely like his usual chipper self.

Instead, he transferred the baby into the arms of a perfectly unsuspecting Minerva, so he could plant both of his hands on Albus' desk. "What kind of a message is that, Dumbledore? 'We need to go deeper into hiding because Voldemort will be coming after us'?" James asked, glaring at Albus.

Lily had followed him more slowly and after closing the office door behind her, she sent a soft, apologetic smile Minerva's way, who was carefully bouncing the sleeping baby boy in her arms.

This sounded like Order business, but if Albus wasn't kicking her out, Minerva certainly wouldn't leave on her own accord. Plus, she had her arms full with baby Harry now.

"I think that message is rather self-explanatory," Albus now replied calmly, his eyes on James.

"No, it bloody well isn't. Why is he coming after us?" James wanted to know.

"He has decided that your family poses a threat to him."

Lily came to stand next to her husband and took his hand. "Why us? We haven't done any fighting lately. We've barely even talked to other members of the Order."

"Does the why really matter?" Albus asked. "The only thing that matters now is to protect Harry," he added gently, looking at the baby in Minerva's arms.

The young parents did the same thing. "Fine, we'll stay in hiding then," James agreed grudgingly. He loved his son, but he hated being sidelined.

Albus shook his head. "Not good enough."

"Then what are you suggesting?"

"The Fidelius Charm."

James looked from Albus to his wife. Lily had always been the smarter one, more versed in the theory of complicated spells and charms. Under her breath, she quickly explained to her husband how the spell worked.

"That's it?" James asked. "That's the whole plan?"

Minerva decided that now was a good time to contribute something to the conversation other than by serving as a babysitter. "It is how we have hidden my family after my brother's death," she told the Potters. "Albus cast the spell and I'm the Secret Keeper. I would have never agreed to that if I wasn't one hundred percent certain that it's the best way to keep them safe from You-Know-Who."

Lily squeezed James' hand and gave him a nod. "All right. So what exactly do we do?"

"I can cast the spell if you wish. All you need to do is choose a Secret Keeper," Albus said and added in a grim voice, "which requires some serious consideration as this person will most likely come under direct attack from Lord Voldemort himself."

Minerva flinched when Albus said the name, nearly waking the baby, while James and Lily exchanged a worried look.

"I will, of course, be glad to offer you my services," Albus said into the tense silence.

To stop herself from protesting, Minerva almost bit off her tongue. It was silly because she should have been a strong supporter of the idea, but the thought of You-Know-Who coming after Albus suddenly filled her with dread.

Lily also looked shocked but touched by Albus' offer. James' face on the other hand was closed off.

"No," he said. "Sirius will do it. I know you mean well, Dumbledore, but Sirius loves us. He loves Harry. He would rather die than tell that bastard a bloody thing."

Albus leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms on his desk. "And do you want him to have to die for you?" he asked bluntly. "No one here doubts Sirius' bravery or the strength of his love for you. But that alone does not make him a match for Voldemort."

James bristled. The accusation that he would let his best friend die for him clearly didn't sit well with him. "He doesn't have to be. He can go into hiding, too. Something that you, Dumbledore, cannot do. Voldemort would know exactly how and where to find you."

"Maybe that's just what we need," said Lily and rested a hand on her husband's arm. "We've been waiting for a chance to make Voldemort come and face Dumbledore openly. So Dumbledore can fight him."

Bringing his head closer to Lily's, James said quietly, yet clearly audible, "But are we sure he would win?"

"James!" Lily hissed.

Looking from his wife back to Albus, James said, "No offense, Dumbledore. But you've got old."

"Oh, undoubtedly," Albus nodded. "But I can assure you that I have one more fight in me," he said. The fierce light in his eyes made it perfectly clear that anyone who underestimated him because of his age was a bloody fool.

Of course, Minerva was hopelessly biased.

And so was James.

"I can't stake my son's life on that," he said. "I'm sorry," he added sincerely.

"I understand," Albus replied simply, but Minerva could tell that his voice had never been heavier with regret.