Chapter Three: Winter 1971-1972
"Professor? May I speak with you?" A head of red hair appeared from behind Minerva's classroom door.
"Of course, Miss Evans." Minerva set down her quill and looked expectantly at the girl. "What can I do for you today?"
"I was hoping you could help me," Lily said. She sat at the desk across from Minerva, looking nervous. "It's just that, with the Christmas break coming up, I'll be heading home for the first time since coming here."
"And are you wondering how to talk to your parents about your life here?" Minerva guessed. "Many of our Muggle-born students often ask me about that."
"No, Professor." Lily shook her head vehemently. "It's not that. My parents are really happy I'm here, honest. They write every week and want to know everything about my classes. They're excited to have a witch in the family. Mum and Dad are just sad that they can't tell anyone."
Minerva smiled. "Well, I am glad to hear that. The bridge between our worlds can be long. It's nice when our loved ones are willing to cross it with us."
"Were your parents Muggles too, Professor?" Lily asked.
"My father was a Muggle," Minerva told the girl. She snapped her fingers, and a tea set appeared. "Would you like some tea?"
Lily's eyes were wide. "How did you do that?"
"One of the house elves knows me well." Minerva handed Lily a cup. "Here you go, Miss Evans.
"Thank you."
"So, if it isn't your parents you're worried about," Minerva said carefully, "I would presume this has something to do with your sister."
"You know about Tuney?"
"She answered the door when I came to your house," Minerva reminded her gently. "Does your sister dislike magic?"
"She hates it," Lily whispered. The girl looked close to tears. "We used to be close. We were best friends. Ever since you came to tell me I was magical, she just yells at me all the time."
"I'm sorry to hear that. While learning about your own Magical abilities can be difficult, sometimes Muggle siblings feel left behind."
"You said your dad was a Muggle," Lily said quietly. "Do you have siblings? Were they magical, too? Or did you go through the same thing as me?"
"My siblings both had magical abilities," Minerva answered. "We were all at Hogwarts together—well, for one year before my sister finished her seventh year. I'm afraid I don't have your same experience, but I do have an idea about your sister."
"Really?"
"Your sister may envy you," Minerva told her gently. "You're magical. You get to attend school in a large castle—one that your sister will never be able to see. You have special abilities and will live a life your sister will never truly understand."
"But my parents aren't jealous!"
"No," Minerva said, a slight smile on her lips, "no, but they're your parents. They are grown adults, not a sister who feels the need to compete."
"Can I tell you something, Professor?" Lily leaned forward conspiratorially. "I know something about Tuney, and she's mad that I know it."
"If it would help you to tell me, you can tell me."
"Tuney wrote to Professor Dumbledore! Asking him to admit her to Hogwarts!"
Minerva had not been expecting that. "Your sister wrote to the Headmaster?"
"Yeah!" Lily nodded emphatically. "I didn't read that letter, but I read Professor Dumbledore's reply! It was very nice, but Tuney wasn't happy that I read it." She hung her head shamefully. "I snuck into her room and found the letter. Sev and I were shocked—we couldn't believe a Muggle had contacted Hogwarts!"
"It is odd," Minerva murmured. She had a sneaking suspicion that Albus, in his Animagus form, had happened to see Petunia Evans write the letter and picked it up on his way home. "But, if it was addressed to the Headmaster directly, there's no reason why he wouldn't receive it. After all, your sister is aware of the magical world's existence."
"Maybe you're right," Lily considered. "Maybe she's jealous. How do I deal with that?"
"You have to let her come to you. Don't force her to listen to you," Minerva advised. "It may hurt, but if you push your sister into hearing all about witchcraft, she may feel more envious. Be gentle with her."
"Thank you, Professor." Lily smiled gratefully. "And thank you for the tea."
"Of course." Minerva paused and then added, "I'd like you to know, Miss Evans, that you really are a talented witch. I am very impressed with how you're performing in my class."
"Because I'm a Muggle-born?"
"No," Minerva stated firmly. "No, you're performing well for a student of any background."
"Thank you," Lily whispered. "It's nice to know I belong here."
"You do." Minerva nodded decisively. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
"Okay. I...um, I should go now," Lily said awkwardly, and Minerva could tell the girl needed a private moment to herself. "Thank you very much."
"You're welcome," Minerva responded earnestly. "I'm your Head of House, Miss Evans. I'm here if you ever require anything."
Lily stood and made her way to the door. When her hand touched the doorknob, she turned around to face Minerva once more.
"Yes, Miss Evans?"
"Could I write to you?" Lily asked. "If this break goes horribly wrong, would I be able to send you an owl?" She suddenly looked embarrassed. "Oh, wait. I shouldn't assume you'll be at Hogwarts the whole time."
Minerva smiled. "You're more than welcome to write me a letter. If you address it to me, your owl will ensure I receive it."
"Awesome," Lily breathed. "I really appreciate it, Professor. I'm sure you have your own family to see on Christmas, so this is really nice of you to take time out for me. Have a good rest of your day!"
Minerva felt a migraine form as Lily shut the door behind her. Giving up on the work she had been doing before Lily had knocked on her door, Minerva exited her office through the hidden passageway and ended up straight in her quarters. To her relief, Albus was sitting on the couch, reading.
"Don't you have actual work to do, my love?" Minerva asked tiredly. She kicked off her heels and sat beside him.
"Nothing so pressing that I can't take a few hours off to enjoy a good book at home so close to the holidays." He closed his book and looked at her more carefully. "What happened?"
"You never told me that Lily's sister wrote to you," Minerva answered. "Lily just told me that her sister wanted to be a witch so badly that she wrote to you—apparently asking to be admitted to Hogwarts."
"My dear, I didn't think it was ever pertinent. If Lily had written the letter, or if the contents had an effect on Lily, then yes, I would have told you. She's as much your daughter as she is mine. However, this was Petunia Evans' secret, and it didn't seem right to share it."
"Well, Lily and Mr. Snape discovered the letter, and Lily saw fit to tell me about it. Apparently, Petunia was less than thrilled when she realized Lily had read your reply."
Albus blanched. "No, I can imagine not. I have observed the family enough to know that Petunia is not a confident child. She practically begged me to let her come to Hogwarts. She even offered to do the cooking."
"Oh, that poor child." Minerva sighed. "If it's any consolation, Lily thinks your reply was quite kind."
"I did my best," Albus admitted. "I attempted to write to her as if she were my own child. And seeing as she truly is Lily's half-sister, I didn't want to upset her."
"I hope Lily has a good Christmas vacation." Minerva rested her head against Albus' shoulder. "I hope Petunia doesn't make it unpleasant for her."
"I must admit I am also worried about Mr. Black on that front," Albus murmured. "I wouldn't want to return home for a Black family Christmas after being the only child ever sorted outside of Slytherin."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," Minerva said dismissively. "He's going home with James for the holidays."
"How do you feel about that?" Albus asked, his voice quiet.
"I don't believe I have strong feelings on the matter one way or the other," Minerva responded after a moment. "I'm happy that James has a good friend—even if they wreak havoc in my classroom more often than not. Besides, it's unlikely that Black will corrupt him. He may coerce James into acts of tomfoolery, but I doubt Sirius Black is into the Dark Arts."
"No, he would not be the first Black sorted into Gryffindor if he were inclined to join Tom's cause," Albus murmured. "Perhaps you're right. There's no reason to think an eleven-year-old boy would hurt Dal—James—simply based on his family name."
"Lily's surly sister aside, I'm happy our children ended up with good families," Minerva sighed. "I've never heard anything bad about the Potters, even if James is a little more rambunctious than I would have liked. And Violet is a good mother."
"Yes, having observed the Evans family, I am not unhappy with where Lily is." Albus looked at Minerva carefully. "And how are you coping?"
"I'm managing. Some days are better than others, but I'm doing as well as I can. It helps that their personalities have changed slightly. It's not as though I am interacting with the exact same children. I..." she trailed off. "You'll think I'm a sentimental fool."
"If one of us is a sentimental fool, it is not you," Albus reassured her. "What is it?"
"I must admit that I took more pleasure in that conversation with Lily than I perhaps should have. It's always nice when a student confides in me, or when I can build a strong relationship with one of my lions—"
"—like Molly Weasley," Albus interrupted, smiling.
"Yes, like Molly." Minerva smiled. "It was lovely to speak with Lily in a personal manner again, even if it was only a small, adolescent confession. In fact," she added, looking at her hands, "she asked if she could write to me if her reunion with her sister does not unfold well."
"That sounds promising," Albus encouraged. "It sounds like she has taken quite the shine to you."
"We'll see if it comes back to bite me in the arse," Minerva said glumly, making Albus laugh. "Honestly, Al. I can't get attached to her. To either of them."
"No, and that is why you still keep a professional distance. And we shall do our best to have a holiday break free of the children." Albus kissed the top of her head. "Apart from one Order meeting and the Christmas feast here, we don't have any obligations."
"Thank Merlin for that," Minerva breathed. "I have a feeling that you'll have more demands on your time as this war heats up."
"Most likely," Albus admitted. "So, let's enjoy this time together whilst we have it."
"I didn't miss wartime," Minerva mumbled. "Not at all."
"Remember to read chapter six over the weekend!" Minerva called out to her first-year class as she dismissed them. She waved her wand and watched as the supplies for the class began to pack themselves away. Minerva was quite ready to be done with her classes for the day. Ever since she started teaching, she despised the first week back at school after Christmas. The students were either too homesick to care about their lessons, or so excited to be back with their friends that they caused a nuisance.
Her son, to her dismay, fell in the latter category.
"Mr. Potter! Kindly give Mr. Pettigrew his book back," Minerva barked. "Do not tempt me into taking house points away for something so trivial."
"Only joking, Professor!" James returned. He handed Pettigrew the book. "We'll have to work on your spells, mate."
Minerva watched with narrowed eyes as her son and his friends left the classroom. She didn't realize that in watching James, she missed the student approaching her desk.
"They're annoying, aren't they?" Lily asked Minerva in a whisper. "You should see what they do in the common room. They're so loud—all the time."
In spite of herself, Minerva released a light laugh. "Don't tell me anything else, or I might just have to come and see for myself."
Lily smiled sadly. "Professor, I wanted to talk to you. I'm really sorry I didn't write to you over the holidays."
"Miss Evans, you don't need to explain yourself to me. I'm happy if everything went well when you arrived home."
"But things didn't go well," Lily whispered. "I had written you a letter, but Tuney stole it off my desk and ripped it up before I could attach it to Perseus."
"Perseus?"
"My owl," Lily said, embarrassed. "I thought it was a fun name."
"It is," Minerva said gently. "Your sister ripped your letter, and then what happened?"
"I was too scared to write you a new one. Tuney said it was only fair, but I only read her letter. I didn't rip it. But," Lily continued, tugging at her hair, "I guess I see what she meant."
"So you decided not to write again?" Minerva confirmed. "Did everything else go well with your parents?"
"Yes, Professor. My parents were normal." Lily shrugged. "I guess I just...they really hate taking sides. Between me and Tuney, I mean. I could have used your advice while I was there."
"I'm honoured you hold me in such high esteem." Minerva patted the girl's hand. "Hopefully, this unpleasantness will end when you return home for the summer. That will give your sister a bit of space. Perhaps your parents will have a talk with her whilst you're not around. Give it time, dear."
Minerva hadn't meant to use the term of endearment, but it had slipped out.
What scared her was the way Lily's eyes lit up when she said it.
"Thank you, Professor. I guess I should get going. I have a lot of reading to do over the weekend." Lily blushed. "With Tuney being so angry, I was scared to do too much of my homework. I couldn't risk her ripping any of my books."
"Best be off, then." Minerva lifted her chin in the direction of the classroom door. "I can't have one of my best students fall behind."
Lily grinned. "Thanks, Professor."
When Lily had shut the door behind her, Albus shocked her by transforming out of his Animagus form and landing softly behind her.
"Merlin, Albus!" Minerva scolded. "How long have you been in here?"
"I cast a Disillusionment charm on myself and flew in when the students left. I had hoped to catch a few moments alone with my darling wife, but instead, I found myself unintentionally eavesdropping on a rather interesting conversation."
Minerva knew that tone, and she didn't like it.
"A conversation you wish to discuss?" Minerva asked coldly. She found herself walking towards her quarters—she could tell through their bond that he was unhappy with her. He would follow her, she knew, and she didn't fancy having an argument with her husband in her classroom.
"Minerva, I don't wish to criticize," Albus began, "but it hardly seems a good idea to be so familiar with her."
"Albus, she needs a confidante. I would do the same for any of my students."
"You would do the same, yes. You would not do so in the same manner."
"This is ridiculous, Albus. You told me to cultivate a relationship with her just before Christmas! What's with the sudden change of heart?"
"You wouldn't call a first-year student "dear," Minerva. In fact, I remember the conversation we had when you first called Molly Weasley "dear". That was at the end of her sixth year, and you felt guilty even then!"
"What would you like me to say? That I care for her? Yes, I do. I am not doing anything unprofessional. I am being kind."
"You're getting attached!" Albus exploded. "You're getting attached to a child who isn't ours. And she wasn't even yours to begin with! She's mine!"
"I know she's yours, Albus! I am aware of that!" Minerva screamed. "But you don't have to see her, day in and day out! To her, I am her professor. A trusted adult who told her about this world. She sees me as someone who can help her. I am doing my best to do that!"
"But you're falling in love with a child who isn't yours!"
"I never fell out of love!" Minerva's voice broke. "She is still the same girl. You know that, Albus. She's the same. The same girl I helped you to raise. The girl who lived with me whilst she was fighting with you. The teenager who came to me for motherly advice. The woman who loved my son! She may not be mine in blood, but I have only ever seen her as a daughter. Don't you dare belittle our relationship."
"I don't wish to belittle the relationship you had with Athena. I merely wish to point out that you have grown awfully close to Lily, and that, for your own sanity, it may be wise to stop pursuing this."
"I'm not pursuing anything, Al!" Minerva began to sob, and Albus realized that he had perhaps—again—underestimated just how challenging his wife's day-to-day life was. "I have not once initiated a personal conversation with her. Put your headmaster hat on for a moment: it would be highly, highly unfair to her if I didn't help her when she asked. You wanted me to treat her as I would any other student? That's precisely what I'm doing.
"I know it's easier for you—you don't have to see them all the time. You aren't required to interact with the children to do your job! Did I perhaps have a momentary lapse in judgment today? Yes, I can admit to that. But unless I do anything unprofessional, Albus, I would appreciate it if you would keep your criticisms to yourself."
Albus didn't know how to react. He could tell she was angry—with him, not only the situation—but he knew she was perhaps hurting even more.
Given that his anger stemmed from his own hurt, Albus knew how she was feeling.
"I have the feeling I haven't been as available to you as I perhaps should have been," Albus said slowly. "You're right: I don't have to see the children. I simply stay in my office for the day. I am projecting my feelings onto you based on my own situation.
"In order to rectify this, we need to talk more. You need to tell me how you feel. I can't help you if I don't know how you're coping, my dear. I can't empathize. I also need to tell you how I feel. And," he added hastily, "I'm sorry for jumping down your throat just now. That was uncalled for."
"You're allowed to miss her, too," Minerva said softly. She knew why he had been so quick to anger. It wasn't that she had called Lily "dear"; no, it was that she had a reason to, and he did not have any reason to engage in personal discussions with his daughter.
"The shoe is on the other foot now. I feel that I am rather envious of you," Albus admitted. "As headmaster, she doesn't exactly have a plethora of reasons to talk to me."
"And let's hope it stays that way," Minerva stated firmly. "I have no desire to bring any student to your office for disciplinary measures—least of all our children."
"May I ask what you think of Mr. Snape?" Albus asked after a moment.
"Where did that come from?" Minerva wondered.
"I've noticed that he and Lily are rather close, that's all." Albus shrugged, but Minerva had the distinct feeling he knew something he did not want to discuss with her. "I wondered if he's a good influence."
"I don't think he's inherently a bad influence. My first-year class is Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, though, so I don't see them interact during class time. As a student, Snape seems quiet and intelligent. I think he is having a hard time in Slytherin, mind you, but as long as he ignores some of the older students who follow Riddle, Snape should grow into a decent young man." Minerva narrowed her eyes. "Why, Albus?"
"Because he seems to be Lily's best friend," Albus said, "and I wanted to make sure she was spending time with people of whom I would approve."
"Truthfully, I think you'd approve of Snape more than James," Minerva responded. "The Potters have clearly spoiled him, and that has brought out a cocky attitude in James that I've never seen before."
"Give him time to adjust to Hogwarts," Albus advised. "After all, he was the long-awaited child to a wealthy, older couple. It's no wonder the Potters dote on him."
"Yes, but there's a limit, Albus," Minerva said disdainfully. "This newfound cockiness, along with his usual streak for mischief, will bring me many a headache over the years."
"Don't write the boy off after six months!" Albus laughed.
"Call it a motherly instinct," Minerva responded. "I am not as impressed with him as I am with Lily."
Albus didn't know how to respond, so he kissed her forehead instead.
"And you, Albus." Minerva rounded on him, her eyes glittering with something he couldn't name. "Do not get short with me again because you miss your daughter. I will talk to you about my feelings if you open up about your own, but I will not be the outlet for your anger."
"I understand," Albus uttered softly. "I'm sorry."
"I accept your apology," Minerva said curtly. She cupped his cheek. "This is a horrible situation, Albus. Neither of us knows how to behave. I accept that there will be bad days, but I will not accept us turning on each other. We're married, and to me, that means we are each other's equals. Neither of us can permanently occupy the moral high ground."
"You're correct, as usual. I will refrain from making any comments on your relationships with our children."
"Good. Now, I believe I shall curl up in bed with a book before dinner. Would you care to join me?" Minerva's voice was quiet, and Albus knew it was an olive branch.
"Of course. I'll retrieve a book from my office and meet you there. A pre-dinner cuddle sounds wonderful." Albus nodded. "Go on ahead."
Minerva smiled and left him standing in their quarters. Albus sighed and went through the secret door he had the castle create that connected Minerva's quarters to his own. He walked through his quarters and went into his office. With a wave of his hands, he opened the cupboard that contained his Pensieve.
Albus placed the memory of this afternoon into the Pensieve, and watched it swirl. He had taken to placing all of his memories of his daughter—as Athena and Lily—in the basin. Holding onto the memories was more of a distraction than he cared for, especially during wartime.
With the day's memory banished, Albus collected a book, and turned to rejoin Minerva.
