Chapter Two: Autumn 1971

In atypical fashion, Minerva found herself awake in bed hours before she had to be. She sighed and turned on her side to look at Albus. She may never have admitted it to her husband, but she enjoyed watching him sleep. His mind was always whirling whilst he was awake. In sleep, Albus managed to let even the slightest of worries disappear, and the lines on his face seemed to lighten.

Minerva reached out to trace her favourite of those lines. It had been on Albus' face for as long as she could remember—even when she was his student. As she gently ran her finger across Albus' forehead, his sleepy voice startled her.

"You must be nervous, my dear," Albus murmured. He withdrew his arm from underneath the duvet and took hold of her hand on his face. "I don't believe we need to be up for another three hours."

"No," Minerva sighed, "we do not. Not that it matters. I cannot sleep."

"I know. You've been tossing and turning since we came to bed," Albus said gently. "I know the thought of today is daunting, but it surely would be better if we faced it fully rested."

"Albus, if I could fall asleep, I would," Minerva retorted.

"I offered you some of my dreamless sleep potion," he reminded her. "You refused it."

"I don't think it would have been any help tonight, Al." She rolled over and snuggled into his chest. "Besides, I never feel fully rested after taking that potion, anyway. I feel groggy, which is the exact opposite of what I need to be today."

"This summer flew by, I must admit," Albus said into her hair. "I cannot believe it is already the first of September."

"Me, either," Minerva echoed. "I'm frightened, Al. What if Dalton isn't here?"

"We'll face what comes," Albus promised. "Would you be able to spend the day with Poppy or Ro? I cannot recuse myself from this Board meeting, no matter how much I would like to."

"Trying to hand me off to a friend?"

"I simply believe it would be best if you had company today. I know you, and your mind tends to focus on one thing—and only that one thing—until you know the answer. If Ro or Poppy could help distract you, that might help occupy you whilst I'm busy."

"It's a good idea. Perhaps Ro will want to throw around a Quaffle with me."

"It certainly would be a good way to release some of that aggression you've been holding on to." Albus tipped her chin up so their eyes met. "The aggression that has been directed at me."

"Albus, I'm not angry with you!"

"No, but you're not particularly happy, either."

Minerva stared at him for a moment before relenting. "It's not you that I'm angry with. I'm simply finding it hard to not be envious of you, that's all."

"Envious of me? Whatever for?"

"You know where Athena is. You know she's happy. You've been able to fly by her house," Minerva added, knowing that Albus had oft visited his daughter's house in his Animagus form. "I'm not angry with you for having the knowledge, but I feel like I've lost my partner in grief.

"Before, we were on the same Quidditch pitch. We didn't know where our children were, and we could share that experience. Now, I'm floating alone, waiting to find Dalton. You have a lifeline. I do not."

"Oh, my dear," Albus uttered. "Why haven't you told me any of this?"

"It felt rather silly when I could very well have my questions answered this evening. There is a timeline for my lack of knowledge, so to speak."

"How can I help?"

"You could distract me until we have to go to breakfast." Minerva looked at him earnestly. "Make me forget I was ever a mother who lost her child. Just remind me that I am your wife. That I am loved."

Albus closed his eyes as he felt Minerva's hands tickle his waist. "I feel like talking through this would be better for your mental health."

"We can talk tonight. We'll have more to discuss after we know where Athena is sorted and if Dalton will be joining us in the castle." Minerva kissed him softly and reached under his nightshirt to trace designs on his chest. "Please, Al."

"I never was very good at refusing you," Albus murmured. He relented, and did his best to do as she wished.


An hour before the students were set to arrive, Minerva found herself pacing around her sitting room.

"Where is Poppy with that damned Calming Draught?" Minerva muttered angrily. "I need to take it quickly so it has time to work before the Sorting starts."

Albus looked cautiously at his wife. After returning from his Board meeting, he had found Minerva in their bedroom, where she was breaking and repairing the same vase multiple times over.

He feared she'd bring the castle down on top of them if they weren't careful.

"Min, you fire-called each other five minutes ago. You know very well it's a longer walk than that from the Hospital Wing to your quarters."

"How am I supposed to do this, Albus?" Minerva cried. "I haven't felt so magically off-kilter since I was a lass."

"Minerva, my dear, you need to be Professor McGonagall. Stop thinking of yourself as Dalton Scrimgeour's mother. As harsh as it may be, you can only be his mother once we've made it through this evening."

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to put a magical hat on fifty children!"

Albus' plan to respond was interrupted by the arrival of Callum's owl. "Oh, look, Min. Callum sent something!"

Minerva tersely opened the window and removed the package from the owl's leg. Once she opened it, she laughed.

"What is it?" Albus asked.

"He sent me Ginger Newts. I'm supposed to view them as a type of stomach soother," Minerva said, reading the note. "Well, that was kind of him. He knows how much I love these biscuits."

"He should, since he and Lucy are the ones that introduced them to you when you were still a student here."

"Keep it up, and I won't be sharing these." Minerva held up the biscuit tin.

"I don't want any." Albus shuddered. "They're not nearly as satisfying as Sherbet Lemons."

"Knock, knock!" a voice called, and the couple turned to see Poppy had let herself into Minerva's private quarters. "I come bearing drugs!"

"Thank Merlin!" Minerva practically ran to her friend and immediately downed the potion. "I hope this works quickly."

"It will," Poppy assured her. "You should feel better in about twenty minutes."

"Good." Minerva nodded decisively. "Yes, that will work well. I should run to the loo, and then we can head down to the Hall."

Poppy watched her friend retreat and turned to Albus. "How is she?"

"Honestly?" Albus ran a weathered hand over his face. "I don't believe I've ever seen her this emotional. This might be worse than when the children told us they were leaving."

"Well, she knew what to expect then," Poppy said gently. "But now? Minerva has been dreading today ever since she found Athena, and a large part of that dread is the fact that she doesn't know what to expect. Will she see her son? What will she feel if he's not there? Will she ever see Athena with Dalton again? You know as well as I do that Minerva likes answers more than questions."

"You may have a point," Albus mused. "She doesn't know whether to grieve or feel excitement or relief."

"I must admit that I do not know which outcome to hope for, especially from Minerva's point of view," Poppy confessed. "If we find Dalton tonight, that will be such a relief, but I'm worried about her ability to cope with seeing the boy day in and day out."

"How are you and Ro coping, Poppy?" Albus asked carefully. He had a sneaking suspicion that no one had asked the Medi-Witch how she was coping with the return of children who were, for all intents and purposes, her niece and nephew.

Poppy managed a tight smile. "Well enough, I suppose. I personally am hoping we see Dalton tonight, if only so that I can stop worrying about where he is. I, like Minerva, need answers. However, I also realize that my wish may be a selfish one. I would only see the children at meals, and occasionally if they were to come to the Hospital Wing. Ro and Min, though—they'll be forced to see the children in classes. I'm not sure if it will be easier or harder if it's just Athena there."

At that moment, Albus realized just how hard this year would be for Minerva. Yes, his daughter would be in the castle, but he could burrow himself in his office. He was not expected to have regular interactions with students. Distance would be manageable. Minerva, on the other hand, would be forced to see the children every day for five years running—seven if they chose to pursue Transfiguration past the OWL level. She would witness their in-class interactions, and if they were to be sorted into Gryffindor, she'd be responsible for their well-being.

Almost like their mother away from home.

"Oh, drat," Albus whispered. "I am ashamed to say that particular detail slipped my mind."

"You've been busy. You're getting ready to fight a war." Poppy shot him a smile. "You can be forgiven for not considering all angles."

"Just because I can be forgiven doesn't mean I should be," Albus muttered. He stood when he saw Minerva return from their room. "Ready, my dear?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Minerva said. She smoothed her robes down. "I am doing my best to be as calm as possible."

"We'll get through this together," Albus promised. He kissed her hand. "Let's retrieve our dear Sorting Hat, and then we'll head down to the Hall."

Fifty minutes later, Minerva found herself tapping her fingernails against the railing on the staircase leading to the Great Hall. She could hear voices grow louder, and she knew the moment was nearly upon her.

Oh, bollocks, Minerva thought as she saw a familiar head of hair climb up the stairs. That's definitely Athena.

Athena—Lily, Minerva reminded herself—rounded the corner and beamed up at Minerva. She was the first of the students to reach the top of the staircase. Minerva wanted to laugh at the situation in which she found herself, but the sight of a lanky, pale boy following behind Lily reminded her they were not alone.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall!" The red-headed girl grinned at Minerva. "Do you remember me?"

"Of course I do," Minerva said, nodding. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Evans."

Lily stepped closer to Minerva and whispered, "This is my friend Severus. The one I told you about."

Minerva allowed herself to smile slightly. "I believe I told you he would be here as well."

"Thank goodness I have him as a friend!" Lily exclaimed. "We sat with these two evil boys on the train—"

"Miss Evans?" Minerva interrupted gently. "I'm afraid I must get on with the sorting. If you have something you'd like to tell me, you can tell me during one of your free periods, all right?"

Lily nodded and bit her lip. "Yes, Professor."

Minerva smiled and took a quick glance at the other students. She didn't want to look too closely for Dalton—not yet, anyway—and with all of the students twisting and turning to investigate their surroundings, she couldn't quite take a good look at their faces.

"If you'll all follow me, I'll lead you into the Great Hall," Minerva announced. "Once there, you'll be sorted into one of the four houses here at Hogwarts: Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor. After you are sorted, you'll sit with your new housemates for the feast. This way, please."

Minerva felt the doors open, and she walked up the long hall until she reached the head table. Albus smiled gently at her, and she did her best to return the gesture. The hardest part was upon her, but Minerva had always been capable of rising to the occasion.

With a deep breath, Minerva called, "Allen, Mary!", and so began the sorting. Despite Sirius Black being sorted into Gryffindor—Minerva had never before had a Black in her house—the whole event was, well, uneventful. Then, she came to, "Evans, Lily!"

Minerva closed her eyes briefly as the girl approached the dais. Without looking at Albus, Minerva knew her husband had leaned forward, however imperceptibly. They both had an interest in how Lily would be sorted the second time around.

Lily grinned at Minerva and said, "Ready when you are, Professor!"

Minerva shook her head clear and placed the Hat gently on the girl's head. She waited and wondered if Lily would be a Hatstall again. Before long, the Hat cried, "Gryffindor!"

Through their bond, Minerva felt Albus' pride. She continued moving through the sorting. She was greatly relieved when Remus Lupin was also sorted into Gryffindor—she wanted the poor boy's secret to stay just that. The real shock of the night was when Peter Pettigrew, a relatively unassuming boy, joined Albus and Minerva as a Hatstall. Minerva knew her husband would spend hours poring over that poor boy's lineage, trying to determine who he was, and what power he possessed.

Before she knew it, the moment of truth was before her.

"Potter, James!"

Minerva suddenly felt woozy as she caught sight of the boy's hair. She knew that dark, almost raven-coloured head of hair. She would recognize it in any timeline. That was her son. This was Dalton.

And when their eyes met for the first time, and she saw that Albus' eyes looked back at her, her heart broke all over again.

The Hat shook as her hand trembled. Minerva felt Albus send her love through their bond, but it only made her feel ill. At this moment, what she needed to feel was less love, not more. She took a deep breath and gently placed the Hat on James' head. After only a moment, it yelled, "Gryffindor!", and her son was bounding off to the Gryffindor table.

Unable to stop herself, Minerva turned and smiled slightly at Albus. Only one name left interested her, and that was Severus Snape. She wanted to know more about this boy who seemed to be such good friends with Lily. When Minerva called his name, she was shocked to see how pale the boy was up close. He looked ignored and malnourished, and Minerva made a mental note to check on the boy. Her eyebrows raised of their own accord when he was sorted into Slytherin. Minerva had no doubt that if anyone could bridge the ever-growing divide between Slytherin and its counterparts, it would be the little girl who now went by the name of Lily.

Once her duty was done, Minerva Banished the stool and the Hat back to Albus' office and took her place at the table. As Albus began his speech, Poppy turned to Minerva and whispered, "Now we know. You did well, dear."

"I suppose you'll advise against me taking a Calming Draught every day I teach for the next seven years," Minerva murmured out of the corner of her mouth.

Poppy raised an eyebrow. "You know I wouldn't condone that. Do we need to set up some time to talk?"

Minerva's eyes wandered to the Gryffindor table, where her son was talking to the Lupin and Black boys. "I believe that would be wise, yes."

Poppy patted Minerva's hand underneath the table. "Can you make it through the meal?"

"I must."

"No, Min. If you're feeling sick, go rest."

"No, Poppy." Minerva turned to her friend and murmured, "I'm not leaving Albus to cope with this alone. He needs me."

Minerva was proved correct when Albus returned to the table after his speech and clasped her other hand with his own.

After the feast, the couple walked silently back to Minerva's quarters.

"Well," Minerva began as she threw herself down on the couch, "Lucy was right. Dalton is now James Potter."

"How do you feel? Now that you know?" Albus asked gently.

"I wasn't ready," Minerva whispered. She turned to Albus with tears in her eyes. "I thought I needed to know where my son was. I thought that all that mattered was seeing him. I know he's alive now, and where he is...but now it feels more real, somehow. I have to face him every day. What happens if I don't like him, Albus? What if he's a horrible little brat?"

"I highly doubt that is the most likely outcome," he chided her. "Dalton still has your blood flowing through his veins. You and Aidan were never, ever bratty. I doubt his new upbringing would change him that much." Albus changed topics. "You seemed happy that Dalton was placed in Gryffindor."

"I was more so happy that he wasn't placed in Slytherin," Minerva responded truthfully. "Let's not forget that Katrina was Aidan's cousin. Aside from his father, Dalton's entire paternal family was Sorted into Slytherin. Clearly, not all students there follow the Dark Arts, but in times like these..." Minerva trailed off, shaking her head. "Riddle's propaganda circulates amongst the older Slytherin students. I don't want Dalton subjected to that."

"Nor do I," Albus said softly. "It's a shame that any of our students hear that. I don't like that Tom's reach extends to our youth."

"May we leave that problem for another day?" Minerva asked, not unkindly. "I have enough troubles tonight."

"How can I make it easier?"

"We need a rule," Minerva said carefully. "I don't think we should refer to the children again as Athena and Dalton—even in the privacy of our own quarters. If we keep alternating their names, I'll never be able to separate their old identities from their new ones. The fact of the matter is this: while these children carry our DNA, they are not our children. They have new parents and families, and we cannot confuse Lily and James with Athena and Dalton. They deserve a peaceful, new existence. That's what they wanted when they originally left us. I'll be damned if I don't give that to them."

"All right," Albus agreed. "That's more than fair. I'll mention it to Callum the next time I see him."

"And I'll tell Ro and Poppy," Minerva added. She smiled at her husband. "I must say I believed one of our children would be a Hatstall again, and not that Pettigrew boy."

"That was an interesting turn of events," Albus mused. "Finally, another one amongst our ranks. I wonder what the other house was."

"Well, as he was eventually sorted into Gryffindor, perhaps I'll eventually know the lad well enough to ask."

They sat quietly for a few moments, and then Albus said, "Now I know how startling it must have been for you to find Ath—Lily. To see James standing there, with my eyes and your face...it was disconcerting."

"Now we can say we know what our potential children together would have looked like," Minerva said humourlessly. "The roads not taken, as it were."

Albus laughed heartily. "That is an upside, yes. We would have made beautiful children."

"We did make beautiful children," Minerva whispered, and she collapsed into Albus' arms, finally allowing herself to cry.


Three weeks later, Minerva received a note from Poppy advising her to go straight to the Hospital Wing. Apparently, a few of her Gryffindors had gotten themselves into trouble, and their Head of House was required to assess the damage. When she arrived at the Hospital Wing, Minerva stopped in her tracks.

James Potter and Sirius Black were chatting animatedly to each other atop neighbouring hospital beds.

Minerva took a deep breath. She had managed to not have more than the simplest of conversations with James since the sorting. Lily was more difficult to avoid—the girl actively sought Minerva out, wanting to learn everything she could about the magical world. James, however, was a Pureblooded eleven-year-old boy who did not want to spend his free time talking to his professor.

In this case, Minerva was happy to oblige.

"Mr. Black? Mr. Potter?" Minerva stepped forward. "What happened to you two?"

"We were playing Quidditch during our free period," Black said, wearing an impish grin. "We had too much fun with the Bludgers."

"I can see that." Minerva nodded in the direction of Black's two broken legs. "I can't imagine you'll be playing Quidditch for a while yet. And what about you, Mr. Potter?"

James Potter looked at her with an all-too-familiar guilty smile. "I have a sprained arm and a broken nose. Madam Pomfrey says she'll have me healed in no time."

"Except for your nose," Poppy interjected. She came out from behind another hospital bed. "I'm afraid your nose will be permanently broken, Mr. Potter. Your face won't ever look exactly the same."

"Oh, man!" James groaned. "My mum is gonna kill me!"

Minerva bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. "I'm sure your mother will be happy you're alive, Mr. Potter. And for the record, the Headmaster's nose has been broken a few times as well, and no one treats him any differently."

Poppy raised her eyebrow in Minerva's direction, and Minerva immediately knew why. She was never this cavalier with students—especially not about Albus.

"I wonder how such a great wizard ended up with his nose broken," Black commented to James.

"And I hope that you two won't cause me too much consternation going forward," Minerva said, desperate to change the subject. "You two are in my house, and I sincerely hope we won't have any disciplinary issues going forward."

"It's not like my parents care either way," Black mumbled. "I'm a Black in Gryffindor, Professor. I'm already out of the will."

"I told you, mate: you're welcome to just come home with me," James said, rolling his eyes. "Your parents sound mental."

"Are your parents happy, Mr. Potter?" Minerva asked, arching an eyebrow. "Or are you too out of the will?"

James grinned. "They're thrilled. My parents are older, Professor—they waited a long time for me, you see. I wanted to make them proud by being in Gryffindor. Just like they were."

"Well, I'm glad they're happy. See to it that you two don't end up in any more trouble, understand?" Minerva looked fiercely at the two of them. "Wait, Mr. Potter, what's that on your arm?"

"What, my birthmark?" James looked at his arm to where a red mark sat above the bandages Poppy had clearly placed there. "I've had it since I was born. It's not related to the Quidditch practice we had today, Professor, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm very glad to hear it, Potter," Minerva managed. "If that's all, I'll leave you two. I expect I'll see you in class before long." She turned to leave. As she arrived at the door, she felt an arm close around her wrist.

"Wait, Minerva," Poppy said quietly. "Does that birthmark match the one Dalton had?"

"Yes," Minerva whispered. "Yes, it does. If we had any doubts, they're gone now." She sighed. "Will we be seeing you tomorrow night?"

"Ro is going to go," Poppy answered. "I'm going to stay here. Man the fort. She'll give me the report later."

Minerva responded by squeezing her friend's hand and slipping out the door.


The next night, Minerva found herself anxiously walking beside Albus on their way through the grounds of Scrimgeour Manor.

"Merlin. I hate this place," she murmured into her husband's arm. "There's a reason I've avoided the grounds for the last twenty years."

"I know it can't be easy being here," Albus said gently. "I sincerely appreciate you allowing us to use Aidan's family home."

Minerva purposefully turned her head away from the spot where she knew her first husband had died. "Well, you were right. This is the safest place to be."

"Quite right. I am the Secret Keeper for the property, and everyone coming tonight is loyal. I trust these people completely."

"Will I be surprised at any of the attendees?" Minerva asked. "Will we be waiting long?"

"I shouldn't think so, and no. I told them all to arrive before us." Albus opened the door for her. "After you."

"Albus, if I am going to be taking notes, I would have liked to arrive earlier! I don't want to be late!" Minerva protested.

"I didn't want you to spend more time here than was absolutely necessary," Albus murmured. He gestured at another set of doors. "Here, everyone is assembled in the living room."

Minerva took a deep breath and opened the door. She was shocked at the people she saw on the other side.

Ro was there, as Poppy had promised, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Minerva's eyes widened as she saw Molly and Arthur Weasley, the married couple only a few years out of school. She spared a thought to wonder who was watching their child before noticing the couple was seated next to Gideon and Fabian Prewett, Molly's twin brothers. Finally, Minerva's former boss, Alastor Moody, was sitting in a chair in the corner, keen to observe the going-ons at the larger table.

Elphias Doge, Albus' old school friend, emerged from the shadows. "Welcome, both of you. I'm sure Albus is happy to have you on board, Professor McGonagall. You're quite the witch, if Alastor's stories about your time on the force are any indication."

"Unfortunately for us, we only have access to Minerva's great mind," Albus interjected smoothly. "She is here for inspiration and for administrative purposes. She won't be joining us on the field."

Minerva barely refrained from rolling her eyes.

"That makes perfect sense," Alastor interjected gruffly. He stood. "If Albus is to be involved in the proverbial trenches, we need someone in power stationed at Hogwarts. Keep the children safe."

"Yes, that's why we came to this arrangement," Minerva lied. "Now, shall we get started?"

"Before we get started, Professors, does this club have a name?" Fabian Prewett asked. "Gideon and I named everything we did—"

"Our pranks, our owls, our secret clubs, our sister's husband," Gideon finished. He grinned. "Molly was particularly mad at one nickname that we came up with for Arthur."

"And if you value your life, you won't ever mention it again!" Molly snapped.

"I see not much has changed since you left Hogwarts," Minerva said, with a hint of amusement in her voice. "I'm afraid brothers tend to tease their sisters, Molly."

"You've got that right, Minnie." Callum entered the room and pressed a kiss to his sister's cheek. He slipped into a chair beside Ro. "It's always fun to tease your sister, no matter how old you get."

"Duly noted," Molly muttered.

"Now, before my late arrival, one of the Prewetts mentioned naming this club of ours?" Callum asked. "Did you have any ideas, Albus?"

"I can't say that I did," Albus said thoughtfully. "We need a name that adequately describes what we're trying to do."

"Stop an evil maniac from killing half of us?" Gideon snorted.

"No," Ro said with a glare most would recognize from Minerva's classroom. "No, we're trying to build a world where everyone is equal. We're trying to stop innocents from dying because...well, because an evil maniac wants to kill half of us."

"So, what? We need to rise like a phoenix?" Arthur Weasley asked. "Begin again in a world that may have little left when all this is over?"

Minerva met Albus' gaze and smiled. Arthur had no way of knowing that her husband's Animagus form was a phoenix.

"I think it's very fitting," Minerva offered.

"That's settled, then. Welcome," Albus announced, "to the Order of the Phoenix."