66. What if

When Minerva woke up, she was startled to find Albus sitting on the edge of her bed, smiling down at her sweetly.

"My goodness, Albus, don't scare me like that first thing in the morning," she muttered.

"I'm sorry," he said, but his smile was widening. "I wasn't aware that seeing my face when you wake up would be unpleasant."

Minerva groaned. "Only because I didn't expect anyone to be in my bedroom. I could have cursed you, you know."

"I shall keep that in mind," Albus said cheerfully. "Incidentally, why are you in your bed and not in ours?"

"Because Malcolm tried to drink me under the table last night and I was glad to have made it to any bed that belonged to me, no matter which one," Minerva explained as she sat up. "This one happened to be closest."

Albus grinned at her. "It will never cease to amaze me that the McGonagalls refuse to do anything half-heartedly. I thought you only wanted to have one birthday drink with him?"

"Well, Malcolm and I had a lot to catch up on, and I wasn't aware that I had a curfew," Minerva replied, getting a little prickly.

"Hardly," Albus said and raised a hand to cup her cheek, soothing her instantly. "I'm happy you had a good time with your brother to celebrate his birthday. I was just waiting for you to come home because I've been meaning to ask you an important question."

"Oh my, if we weren't already handfast, I might just be excited," Minerva quipped.

"All right, maybe not that important," Albus admitted with laughter – and love, always love – in his eyes. "Why don't you want to go to the Quidditch World Cup?"

Minerva blinked. "That's it? That's what you waited up all night to ask me?"

"Why does that surprise you?"

"Because I wouldn't call that important at all."

"Oh, it is," Albus insisted. "Because it's a mystery to me and you know how much I pride myself on my ability to solve those. But I can't seem to figure this one out." He leaned closer to gaze at her intently. "I know you detest Bulgaria. You say it's because they're not a good Quidditch team, relying solely on their Seeker's sudden success, but really it's because they flattened Scotland the other year. You do like one of the players on the Irish team because he played for the Montrose Magpies the last time they won the League Cup. So you're definitely rooting for Ireland. This is the first World Cup to be played in Britain in 30 years and you should be excited about having the chance to see it in person – and yet, here we are."

Actually, Minerva wasn't sure where she was or what was happening because she hadn't expected Albus to say any of that. "You've done your homework."

"Or I've just been living my life with you for the past couple of decades," Albus replied, his eyes twinkling.

"Right," she said with a twist of her mouth. "Sorry for talking about Quidditch so much."

"No need to apologise," Albus assured her lightly. "Although I was hoping that I had finally found a gift for you that you would actually enjoy."

"Who even told you about this?"

"Rolanda."

"Did she ask you to use your influence at the Ministry to get her tickets?" Minerva ventured a guess, her eyes narrowing. The Hogwarts flying instructor had talked to her about this as well, only a few days ago. That's when Minerva had told her that she didn't have any tickets because she wasn't planning on going.

"That might have been her primary motive," Albus confirmed. "But she also told me a charming story about how she saved the Golden Snitch from a Niffler once."

Minerva huffed. "Unbelievable."

"I don't mind. And neither does Ludo. Just the opposite, in fact. He would be thrilled to hand out more tickets. I'm fairly certain he'd even add more seats to the Top Box if I asked him to."

"Oh no, please don't."

Albus inclined his head. "Which brings us back to the mystery at hand."

"It's not a mystery. I just..." Minerva took a moment to search for an explanation. "This World Cup is turning into a silly spectacle. It would feel frivolous to go and take part in that as though we didn't have enough serious issues to deal with."

After acknowledging her answer with a thoughtful lift of his brow, Albus said, "But if we don't allow ourselves to experience joy whenever we can, we'll have lost the fight before it even started."

"What if," Minerva mused, trying to keep her voice steady, "I'll only enjoy the World Cup if you come with me?"

The agonised look on his face was too hilarious for her not to burst out laughing.

"Breathe, Albus. I was just kidding," she managed in between fits of laughter.

"If you were serious about this, I would of course consider it," Albus said slowly. "But I highly doubt that my company would bring you joy since I tend to draw way too much unwanted and unnecessary attention to myself."

For the first time today Minerva seriously thought about going. "I could ask Catriona if she liked to come. She said she wanted to spend some time together before school starts." Regrettably, her niece might be cheering for Viktor Krum, but Minerva could probably suffer through that. "In any case, mystery solved. You can stop wasting your time on this."

"Oh, it wasn't a waste and it was a lot more pleasant than any of the alternatives." Albus' cheerful mood sobered a little.

"Nothing new on the whereabouts of Bertha Jorkins?" Minerva surmised.

"No, Ludo still won't even look for her. Considering the time and place of her disappearance, I fear that the time to hope for good news has already passed."

"Of course it has. Good news don't even seem to exist anymore."

Albus squeezed her hand and smiled wryly. "I suppose that depends on whether Ireland wins the World Cup, does it not?"

It was cute that he pretended to care and so Minerva nodded. "They better."

With two empty mugs of hot cocoa and a small walking Viktor Krum figure between them, Minerva sat with Catriona at her niece's kitchen table. She jumped a little in surprise when a soft knock sounded on the front door.

"Do you often get visitors in the middle of the night?" Minerva asked, both suspicious and disapproving.

Catriona shook her head. "I don't ken who that is."

The miniature Krum that Catriona had insisted on buying before the game simply to annoy her aunt reached the edge of the table and landed on the kitchen floor with a dull thud. It reminded Minerva of the sound the Irish Seeker had made when he had fallen for Krum's Wronski Feint. But oh well, Bulgaria had still lost in the end, hadn't they?

She got up from the table and reached for her wand. "Stay here," she said to Catriona.

Her niece started to rise from her chair regardless. "You realise that this is my house and that I should be the one protecting my guests, meaning you?"

"Aye, and if I ever get so old that I cannae hold my wand anymore, you can give it your best shot, lassie. But until then you'll sit your wee, bonnie arse back doon!"

Catriona's eyes widened at Minerva's tone and the sudden return of her Scottish accent before she quickly did as she was told. "Aye, Auntie."

Wand in hand, Minerva walked over to the window to peek outside. It was too dark to see much, but she only needed a split second to recognise the tall silhouette of the man standing on the doorstep. She let out the breath she had been holding and went to pull open the door.

"Albus! What in Merlin's name are you doing here at this hour?"

His clear blue eyes took her in, scanning her from head to toe, before he exhaled and stepped over the threshold to press a relieved kiss to her forehead. "Just making sure you're all right."

Everything aside from the spot where Albus' lips had just touched her skin went suddenly ice-cold. "What happened?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"The Dark Mark appeared in the sky above the campsite of the Quidditch World Cup."

It had been so many years now, Minerva wasn't prepared for the naked terror that spread through her. "Did anyone...?"

"No. As far as we know, no one died," Albus said swiftly. He knew exactly what she was thinking about. What the Dark Mark had used to mean. What it had meant to her personally as well as to so many others. "But a group of wizards in Death Eater masks attacked the Muggle campsite manager and his family."

"I saw him briefly before the game," Minerva muttered. "He had two young children!"

Albus nodded, his face set and hard. "They were tortured, too."

Minerva felt so sick to her stomach, she didn't know what to do with herself. That feeling of dread only worsened when Catriona's small, fearful voice came from the doorway to the kitchen. "Will they be okay, though? The bairns?"

"Their memories are being altered as we speak," Albus told her softly. "They shouldn't remember any of it, though it's hard to say if their minds will truly forget the fear they must have felt."

With both hands pressed to her stomach, Catriona looked not only emotionally but physically nauseated.

"Go to bed, love. You need your sleep now. Take a potion if you have to," Minerva coaxed her niece into going upstairs where her husband was lucky enough to sleep through all of this.

"I take it you didn't witness any of it?" Albus asked once Catriona was gone.

Minerva shook her head. "Now I wish I had stayed. But Catriona wanted to leave right after the game, so we headed back to the Apparition point."

"I don't think there was anything you could have done," Albus tried to comfort her. "There were more than enough Ministry officials present after all."

"They didn't exactly have the situation under control, did they?" Minerva snapped. "Was it... Do you think You-Know-Who was...?"

"I don't believe this happened on Voldemort's orders, no," Albus answered the question she had left hanging in the air between them. "Apparently, most of the Death Eaters fled when the Dark Mark appeared. They seem to fear his return as much as we do."

"There were no arrests at all?"

"It looks that way, though Cornelius wasn't particularly forthcoming about that."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "That man has no idea what he's doing. Or did he listen to you when you told him about that Muggle who disappeared in the village where You-Know-Who's father used to live?"

"He did not," Albus admitted with a weary sigh. "Though to be fair, he has a lot on his plate right now."

"And how is burying his head in the sand ever supposed to change that?" Minerva hissed. "This is going to be an unmitigated disaster."

"What is?"

"Whatever happens next," Minerva said with an all-encompassing wave of her hand. "Unless…"

Albus quirked a brow in question. "Unless?" he prodded her gently into continuing.

Minerva bit her lip, hesitating, but Albus waited her out patiently. "Unless you find a way to save us," she finally finished her sentence, but she hated every word. It was an awful thing to put on anyone. And she was the last person who should be doing it.

From the very beginning she had always tried to see the man behind the famous Dumbledore name. The simple man people wouldn't allow Albus to be, instead making him out to be either hero or villain. But as hard as she tried and as much as she loved every part of him, there was no denying that he was their only hope right now against a strengthening He Who Must Not Be Named.

Albus knew it, too. Because of that knowledge he seemed to age a little more right in front of her eyes.

She hurried to take his hands. "Not on your own, of course. You know there are people willing to fight with you. Fight for all our sakes." Minerva didn't think she needed to emphasise that she was first in line.

If she could convince Albus to accept that. After brushing gentle kisses over her fingers, he let go of them and said, "Let's hope it doesn't come to that. But," he went on when he saw the doubt on her face, "we shall of course be prepared to do what needs to be done. Whatever that's going to be, it sounds a lot less daunting coming from your lips."

Minerva gave him the strongest smile she could muster. There was really nothing else they could do tonight, so she returned to the kitchen to clean up, making the dirty dishes fly from the table straight into the sink.

Albus had followed her and asked curiously, "Why did you tell Catriona that she needs sleep – more than we do, that is?"

Minerva looked up from the sink that was slowly filling with water. "She's pregnant. It's why we left right after the game and why we were still up when you knocked on the door. She has already told her husband and her mother and they're all thrilled, of course, but Catriona needed someone to talk to about her fears."

"Why's that?" Albus asked, his brows raised in surprise and delight. "This sounds like a cause for celebration to me."

"Says the man who was always afraid of having children of his own." Albus' eyes widened imperceptibly and Minerva winced, abandoning the dishes to face him fully. "I'm sorry. That just slipped out. I'm still on edge."

"This is not about what happened at the World Cup, though, is it?" Albus said, his voice pained and his face crumpling. "This is something you'll never truly forgive me for."

Minerva placed her hands on his chest, desperate to make that stricken look go away again. "On the contrary. If we actually had children, I don't think I could stand the worry right now."

"I hope that's not what you told Catriona," Albus replied, his brow still furrowed.

"Of course not. I told her that being brave enough to raise our children the right way is the only chance we have to change things for the better."

Albus' tone was quiet and deeply thoughtful as he asked, "Wouldn't that mean that we made the wrong choice?"

"We never even had a choice," she corrected him softly so he would know that she wasn't blaming him. "This bloody broken world made sure of that."

"This world might be broken in places, as we all are, but there are always choices. Just none that are easy or even close to perfect," Albus countered calmly.

"Then I guess you and I chose to live a life that's perfectly imperfect," Minerva said, splaying her fingers on his chest.

The hint of a smile returned to his face. "So we did."

"It's a bloody shame, though," Catriona suddenly spoke up behind them. "The two of you would have made the most wonderful parents." When they turned around in surprise, she shrugged. "Sorry, I ken that I shouldn't be eavesdropping. I'll teach this little one to do better than me."

Minerva glanced at Albus and he held her gaze gently. They didn't say anything because there was nothing else to say. They had promised each other no regrets a long time ago. And that still held true to this day. But if Minerva had to name one thing, then it would be that she had never got to see Albus as a father. As someone who knew what it felt like to be loved by him, she also knew what a terrible loss that was.

He seemed to think the same thing about her. "In another life," he said after a prolonged pause.

Minerva smiled at him and then she chased her niece back to bed. The noise finally woke up Catriona's husband, who naturally asked what was going on, and that started another round of explanations.

By the time Albus and Minerva Apparated back to Hogwarts the sun was coming up, bright and beautiful, as though what had happened last night at the World Cup hadn't been as dark as it had been terrible.

Minerva should have been bone tired, but there were too many thoughts racing through her mind. She steered Albus in the direction of the lake, wanting to take a walk before they returned to the castle. He followed her without comment and for a while the silence between them was deep but comfortable.

"I wonder what that other life of ours would have looked like," were the first words Minerva said into the quiet morning. It was a silly thing to think about, but it was also easier. Easier than worrying about her niece, who was about to start a family in times that felt as uncertain and dangerous as they hadn't done in years.

Albus seemed to understand and he decided to humour her. "Perhaps we would have met in school," he suggested. "As students, I mean."

"Bad idea." Minerva wrinkled her nose. "I probably would have hated you."

He was so taken aback that he came to an abrupt stop. "Why?"

"Because you would have been the best in every class, which means that I couldn't have been, and that would have annoyed me to no end," Minerva explained with a self-deprecating shrug.

Mulling that over, Albus slowly resumed walking. "That does present us with somewhat of a conundrum. My intellect and my magic would have been the only qualities I could have impressed you with. It certainly wouldn't have been my skills on a broomstick."

"Perhaps in this life you would have liked Quidditch," Minerva suggested hopefully. Albus shot her a dubious look. "Or maybe not. And maybe you wouldn't have liked me either because I would have at least tried to challenge you in every class."

"And succeeded, I'm sure. But you may be right," Albus conceded. "I was an insufferably arrogant fool at school. I probably would have found a way to ruin any chance of a relationship with you."

Minerva snorted. It was so typical of him to accept all the blame even in an entirely hypothetical scenario.

But he didn't seem willing to give up on this little thought experiment just yet. "So not at school then," he mused.

Meanwhile Minerva watched as the giant squid swam to the surface of the lake and held its tentacles out of the water as though it was trying to say hello to the morning sun. The amusing sight made her think of something. "The most likely other place for us to meet would be the Ministry. In a world where you don't have any reason to hold yourself back, you'd be Minister for Magic." He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. "Don't fight it, Albus. You know it's true."

"For a while people talked about you becoming Minister for Magic, too," he pointed out.

"Only very few people, most of them completely enamoured with me, and only because you had already declined the offer several times," she reminded him.

"If you insist. But if I'm Minister for Magic, then at the very least you'd have to be my Head of Magical Law Enforcement to help me shape this hypothetical world we're living in."

Minerva pursed her lips. "So I'm working for you again? That sounds as if we'd end up in another secret relationship." She shook her head when she saw the slightly exasperated look on Albus' face. "This is ridiculous. We don't have to talk about this anymore."

Albus pulled her to another stop. "We just have to stop being so full of ourselves."

"How do you mean?"

He let his eyes wander over the lake that shone in the most glorious Gryffindor colours of red and gold, thanks to the steadily rising sun. "The whole point of this is to envision a life with less pain for the both of us and no need to fight in any wars, yes? So instead of changing the world in any shape or form, I can just go travelling after school, like I had always planned. For as long as I fancied it. Until one day, by chance or fate, I find myself near a small village in rural Scotland and stumble across you and your brothers playing Quidditch – somewhere far enough away and safely hidden from any prying Muggle eyes," he added quickly, knowing that would have never happened in the McGonagall family.

"You catch my attention immediately – because of the way you're flying like you don't have a care in the world, unapologetic and unafraid," Albus explained in greater detail, anticipating her objection that she had never been beautiful enough for any 'love at first sight' nonsense. "And because of how your eyes catch fire when you notice me staring. You land in front of me, determined to protect and defend your brothers at all costs. It takes some persuasion, but I convince you that I'm neither a threat nor a creep, that I'm actually a fellow Gryffindor who graduated Hogwarts a few years ahead of you. At that point you challenge me to join your game rather than to keep watching from the shadows. I'm entirely too proud to decline, but I'm terrible at it, of course. I make you laugh a lot, which turns out to be the most wonderful sound I have ever heard.

Not willing to let that go again, I charm my way into a dinner invitation at the manse. Your father grills me about what I'm planning to do with my life, but your mother defends me, telling him that travelling after school is an old tradition among wizards. Eventually I manage to say something insightful and your father, being the kind man that he is, allows me to stay and sleep on the sofa for the night. As soon as everyone's asleep, I sneak up to your room."

Minerva had been listening with rapt attention, but now she couldn't help cracking up. "I'm sorry, you're doing what?"

"I told you I was a bit of a rebel as a young man," Albus winked at her.

"Clearly. My father never hurt anyone in all his life, but I can assure you he would have made an exception if he had caught you in bed with me."

Albus held up his hands. "In bed?" he asked in mock outrage. "I just wanted to sit and talk with you all night," he said with an impish grin.

"No touching?" Minerva asked sceptically.

"Well, I would have left that up to you. I did know how to be a gentleman if I wanted to be."

"Uh-huh. So what then? No matter what we would or wouldn't have done that night, you'd have left the next day."

"Yes, but I wouldn't have gone far before turning around and coming back to ask you to come with me."

That caught her by surprise. "To do what?"

"To go travelling together," Albus replied lightly.

"You mean to run off together," she corrected him.

"Yes. So? Will you run away with me?" He prompted.

There was no point to any of this, but Minerva thought about it. She was pretty sure she would have been a responsible person in any life, no matter the circumstances. Too responsible to leave her family behind for a young man she had only just met. Then again, if she had glimpsed the depth of his heart that night, his true self...

"Yes," she breathed.

Albus' answering smile was quite dazzling and his eyes shone bright with triumph. "There you go then. We continue to travel together, just as friends at first, but it doesn't take long for us to understand that some souls irrevocably call out to one another. Eventually we decide to return and I beg your father for forgiveness and for your hand in marriage. Thankfully, as a minister, it's in his nature to forgive me. He marries us in his church and we settle down in a nice cottage somewhere."

"What do we do with all of our time?" Minerva wondered.

"Read books, make love, have children and fill our house with happiness and light. Why would we want to do anything else?" Albus asked. They were only kidding around, but his tone was completely serious when he said that.

It didn't sound like them at all, but it was undeniably beautiful. Minerva could easily picture herself – well, a much younger version of herself – standing in the doorway of a cabin in the Scottish countryside. Her belly round with the promise of new life while Albus' hands, the hands of her honest-to-God and not at all secret husband, slip around her as he tells both her and her swollen abdomen how much he loves them (he would absolutely be the kind of expectant father who would talk to his child in utero).

The touch of Albus' actual hand startled her. "Did I just lose you in that imaginary world of ours?"

"No, though I'm impressed by what you did with it. But not as impressed as I am with how we really got to be here." She laced her fingers through his.

Yes, there had been pain and suffering and obstacles to overcome and Minerva wasn't naïve. She knew there was more of that in their future. But thinking about it now, she realised that by loving each other through all that, by fighting every day for their love to exist, even unbeknownst to the rest of the world, they had grown stronger than they ever could have.

And in all honesty, she wasn't sure what kind of woman she would have become if Albus hadn't been her teacher. She couldn't imagine anyone else inspiring her in the same way to become the best version of herself. After playing this little game of make believe she wasn't actually willing to give up a single real memory she had of Albus and the two of them together.

She must have spoken some of that out loud.

If Albus' earlier smile had been dazzling, it was radiant now when he said, "Neither would I."

A/N: Knowing that there are dark times ahead, I decided to focus on the romance in this chapter and to add a little fluff while I still had the chance. I hope the 'what if' conversation wasn't too silly. It practically wrote itself and I thought it was cute, so I kept it. :)