Chapter Sixteen

The summer was over before any of them knew it, but for the first time since she'd begun working at Hogwarts, Minerva was not prepping for classes on September the first, but rather preparing her quarters for the birth of her son. Albus would be covering her classes until the Christmas holiday, after which she'd return. While she could have feasibly kept teaching for another month, it made no sense to get the students used to seeing her in class for only a few weeks before she'd be leaving for the better part of three months. In January, the baby would be old enough for a House Elf to mind while she was in classes, and as for the rest, well, she'd manage.

Albus had insisted she maintain residency at Hogwarts regardless of her hiatus, and allowed for Orion to visit her on the weekends if she was feeling particularly amicable toward him at that moment, once she'd admitted to her mentor who her child's father was. Admittedly, how amicable she was feeling toward Orion varied from weekend to weekend. Today, it was the last Saturday before students were to return, and she'd agreed to allow her former lover over for a visit to assist with setting up the nursery. While she was committing to raise this second incarnation of Sirius Orion Black the third as a single mother, officially speaking, Orion had committed to titling his son regardless, and with that gesture she supposed he should be allowed some semblance of access to his child. One thing was for sure, though; after hearing a number of horror stories of what Walburga had put Sirius the elder through as a child, she was not inclined to let that dratted Witch anywhere near her son.

Not that she'd been particularly inclined before the stories.

"Pregnancy suits you," Orion said softly, coming up from behind her and pressing a kiss to her cheek, hand resting gently on her swelling abdomen.

She jerked away. "I said you could come over to help set up the nursery," Minerva stated firmly. "Not that you could take liberties with my person."

"Oh come on!" he grumbled. "You didn't mind before! In fact you seemed to have been enjoying it quite a bit, as the evidence clearly shows!"

"All the evidence shows is how foolish I've been," Minerva replied, "to think that I could take up with a married man and get away with it, scot free. I'm having this child, and I'll not keep you away from your son Orion, but we are done. It's not an issue of love. Merlin knows I love you, but all the same you cannot promise me that this wouldn't happen again, and raising one child as a single mother is going to be trying enough. I'm not interested in having to raise two children alone, or Gods forbid, even more than that."

Orion sighed. "You're right. I know you're bloody right. I hate it though."

The Scottish Witch huffed. "I don't particularly enjoy it either, you prat. It is, however, what it is. All of that said, we should probably start talking about what to name this son of ours. Have you given it any thought?"

From what Hermione had told her, this child was in fact the second incarnation of Sirius Black the third. Her friend had, however, assured her that whatever the truth of his blood, that did not mean he had to go forward with the name this time around. After all, his circumstances were changing, so that implied his name very well could too. On the other hand, Minerva was keen to keep the name as it was meant to be. One part was because she wanted the daily reminder of who her son had the potential to become, for better or worse, and another part was because she wanted Hermione and Sirius to have that reminder. She wanted her child - as every mother did, she supposed - to be special in the eyes of others, and couldn't imagine a better way for him to be viewed as special if not by a Mage having to remember every time she addressed him that he was the boy who'd grow up to become someone she trusted implicitly. Of course, she had no idea how to go about suggesting the thing to Orion.

"Well," her former lover hedged, "as I said, my grandfather approved him being titled, so it would be appropriate if he was a Black instead of a McGonagall."

Minerva had been expecting that since Orion had mentioned, some weeks ago, that Sirius had approved the baby being named Orion's heir, given he had no other progeny. Sirius, Hermione, and Minerva all knew that in a few more years he would have a son with Walburga, if things went as they did before, but for the moment he did not, which gave Orion the freedom to make this choice. "I'm fine with that," she replied calmly. "In the long run, it will probably be better for him. It will give him some anonymity when he turns eleven and starts at Hogwarts. If he wishes to, he can pretend the Transfiguration Professor isn't his Mum."

Orion laughed. "If it was me, I'd be taking full advantage of the situation, to be honest. I wouldn't count on him playing at not knowing you from Merlin."

"It will depend on if he gets more of your personality or mine, in that respect," she mused, chuckling lightly. "What about a first name? I think the second name should be for you. He'll be raised by me. He ought to have that connection to his father, at least."

He grinned. "Okay, so I have an idea, Min. Actually think about it before you shoot me down, alright? I know you're not the biggest fan of how my family names most children after stars and all, but I was fairly well shocked at how well my grandfather has handled, well, everything. I was thinking it might be proper to name our son for him. Sirius. So Sirius Orion Black. Interestingly, Grandfather's second name is Orion as well, so that would make the baby Sirius Orion Black the third."

She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing, and counted backward from five to look as though she was considering for a moment. Then, she replied. "If I agree to that, then I get to select a nickname for him. With as often as your family does those big get togethers, it will get ridiculously confusing to have two Sirius Blacks running around all the time."

He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her critically. "It's gonna be something Gaelic, isn't it?"

Bloody hell, he knew her too well. Minerva shrugged. "I was thinking about Trian. Yes, it's Gaelic. It means third."

"Appropriate," he mused. "Also, as far as Gaelic words go, that's not terrible. At least you didn't go for Dubh, or Leibide."

She smirked. "Do you even know what leibide means?"

"Not a clue," Orion shrugged. "I worked out that Dubh means Black over the years, but I never could figure what leibide meant."

"It means idiot," Minerva said, chuckling lightly, remembering the many, many times she'd used the word in reference to him. "Or, alternately, it means arse."

His eyes widened in surprise for a moment, and then he seemed to consider briefly, before he nodded. "Yeah, that would match up with the tone of voice you typically used when you said it. In any case, Trian works. Nice, safe, not even that hard to pronounce kind of word. And, it's appropriate given what his name will actually be."

"Sirius Orion Black the third," she muttered, resting her hand on her abdomen as her son shifted position inside of her. "What have I gotten myself into?"

Orion smiled. "We'll just have to wait and see. That said, I have to get back. Grandfather says if I'm man enough to father a child with a Mistress, then I'm man enough to help out with political maneuvering and all that rot. My days of being that bloke who sits on the sidelines are officially over, it seems. I'm getting dragged into the Ministry this afternoon to help with the preparations for Tuft taking office. The new one, I mean. Plus side, it won't be hard to remember the new Minister's name."

She sighed. "Ignatius is incompetent. At least his mother had a good head on her shoulders. We're still uncertain if her death was accidental or an assassination, Orion, so please be careful. You and I completely aside, your son deserves to grow up knowing his father."

He grinned. "Merlin save the idiot who tries to do me in. Remember, my grandmother's a bloody Mage, Minerva. At least, that's what I keep reminding Walburga every time you come up in conversation and she looks at me like she'd like to eat my intestines for breakfast."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Walburga's a cow. Go."

Orion smiled at her as he tossed some powder in the Floo, and then a moment later, he was gone. Minerva sat down on her sofa and looked out the window, mind still circling around the recent election and the fact that Ignatius Tuft was set to take over as Minister for Magic. It was an election nobody foresaw coming to pass. He had the support of nobody she knew, and yet somehow he'd gotten more votes than any of the far more qualified contenders. Hermione and Sirius were nearly positive that he was in Abraxas Malfoy's pocket, and there was one thing they were all certain of - Abraxas Malfoy was working for Voldemort.

It had been a few months since Cedrella had been able to make time for a visit with Dorea Potter. Among Cedrella's first cousins, Dorea had always been one of her favorites. She was her junior by just over three years, although even when they'd been girls, that hadn't mattered. They were so similar in disposition that they'd been almost as inseparable as Arthur Weasley and Molly Prewett, although while Arthur and Molly likely had a future as a couple, Cedrella knew, she and Dorea were merely kindred spirits. Of all the family members she'd missed during her years of disownment, Dorea had been among those she'd missed the most, next to her parents and sisters.

"Dorea?" she called, stepping into the front foyer of Potter Manor.

A House Elf, Kippy, appeared before her. "Mistress is in the sunroom overlooking the rose garden," the little creature informed her. "Mistress says that at present, fresh air is good."

"Fresh air is good?" Cedrella inquired, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

Kippy sighed. "It is helping with the rolly in the tummy. Fresh air and ginger biscuits."

Her eyes lit up in pleasant surprise. "Kippy, is your Mistress with child?"

The House Elf nodded. "She is being quiet about it because she worries it will not hold, but yes, she is with child. You be seeing it if you be seeing her, so I was seeing no harm in telling."

Aunt Hermione, of course, had mentioned that a son would be born of Charlus and Dorea not long after Sirius' younger counterpart was born, so the timing was right. She smiled brightly with the knowledge that she could visit with Dorea and encourage her cousin on the probability of a healthy pregnancy. She couldn't explain why she knew all would be well, of course, but she could be annoyingly positive about the thing even if under normal circumstances, given Dorea's history, it would be her instinct to be conservative in her proppage.

Cedrella thanked the Elf and then made her way through the foyer and then down a series of halls until she made it to the familiar sunroom, currently with windows open to allow in a breeze, and after pressing a kiss to her cousin's cheek, took a seat. "Word is that you're pregnant, cousin," she said in greeting.

Dorea nodded. "Not quite three months, now. It's still early, Cedrella, so we're not celebrating yet. So much could still go wrong."

"It won't," she said with a bright smile. "I know it, Dorea. You and the baby will be just fine. A boy, I wager."

"Here's to hoping on that count," her cousin huffed. "Merlin knows I'm tough, but I'm not sure I have it in me to go through this more than once. I'm so tired, and the Healers say it'll only get worse. The potions they have me on are brutal, but Charlus does need an heir. If we don't have a son, I think we'll adopt. We'd been discussing it before the fertility potion at Mungo's came available. For that matter, when it came out that Minerva was expecting Orion's bastard, Charlus and I discussed adopting that baby. After all, it would be a Black. A bit ridiculous she's planning to keep it. To be honest, it's a bit ridiculous the pair of them got involved at all. I mean really! What were they thinking?"

Cedrella frowned. "Come now, Dorea, you were among the few of us Blacks lucky enough to be promised to someone you grew to love. Orion has no love for Walburga, and Walburga has no love for Orion. Minerva and Orion, however, love one another very much, and if not for Uncle Sirius getting smacked upside the head a bit too late, Orion would have married Minerva, and that baby would have been legitimate."

Dorea sighed. "I suppose that's true. I just can't help feeling betrayed."

"Why?" the older of the two inquired. "It's not as if Minerva stepped into our lives and seduced Orion after the fact. That might constitute betrayal. Orion and Minerva have loved one another since Hogwarts, and Minerva didn't get drawn into the family properly until I named her Godmother to Edmund after what happened in Diagon Alley, and they'd already been shagging for a while by then. What was she supposed to do? Introduce herself at family gatherings by saying Hello, I'm Minerva, Godmother to Edmund Weasley, and by the by I'm shagging Orion or some such?"

The Potter Matriarch chuckled. "Alright, alright, I'm being ridiculous. I'll stop being such a judgmental bitch."

"Too right you will," Cedrella agreed. "After all, the pair of you are in the same boat in many ways. It would behoove you to make an ally of the woman. You're both about to have a child with one side of the family Slytherin, the other Gryffindor. You're a bit on the outside of the group of mothers because of how much older you are, and she's on the outside because she's the mistress. Both of you have consideration of carrying on family lines - you the Potters and her the Rosses…"

"Minerva's a Ross?" Dorea asked, looking surprised.

"Her mother was Isobel Ross, yes," the older of the cousins said. "She has two brothers, but neither have children yet, and like her they both carry the McGonagall name they got from their Muggle father. At some point, one of them is going to need to take the Ross mantle, because as far as I'm aware, there are no cousins living who still carry the name. The Rosses were all but wiped out during that mess with Grindelwald."

Dorea looked thoughtful. "Cedrella, has Minerva been a good Godmother to Edmund?"

She laughed. "Ironically, considering I made the decision on the spur of the moment, that was one of the best decisions I've made to date. She's involved but not pushy. She's available and flexible. She's considerate to my ideals of child rearing, and aware of how her behavior will impact my child. She's dedicated to Edmund, Dorea. I couldn't have made a better choice. Why, what are you thinking?" she asked suspiciously.

The dark haired woman sighed. "Charlus and I were talking about the notion of a Godparent the other night. We really don't have anyone in mind, but we do have certain traits in mind. We want someone who isn't directly related to either of us. We know how political tides are, and we want to be certain that if we were to die, whoever our child's Godparent was, they wouldn't be impacted directly by whatever politics our family was mixed up in. We also want that person to be someone who comes from a Pureblood family who would be in a position to educate our child about the things they would need to know as Head of House and so forth. Then there's education. We also want this person to be someone who, gender of this child be damned, would ensure our child had a good education. I can't help but consider that Minerva fits the bill quite well."

"It would also make her son and your child Godsiblings," Cedrella pointed out, "and considering you appear disinclined to have further children, that would provide him or her with a sibling without you having to actually have another child."

"Another point in Minerva's favor," Dorea said thoughtfully. "Do you think Aunt Hermione would approve?"

Cedrella grinned. "Oh, I think she'd think it was brilliant."

It was September twelfth, the first Hogsmeade weekend into term, and Aberforth was curiously watching the hustle and bustle of new faces milling about. Minerva had been in a while ago en route to the bookstore, by now quite pregnant and officially on maternity leave, but otherwise most of his customers today were going to be the upper years of Hogwarts, in to get actual alcohol. Nodding to Amruta Patil, his current help behind the bar, Aberforth decided to take a breather and step outside, the chaos getting to him. He'd nearly made it out the door when two young boys ran smack into his legs.

Years and years of running this pub had made him more than a little skilled at catching those who weren't meant to be in his place of business, and two half pints like this had no call to be in the Hog's Head. He grabbed the both by the collar and hauled them back out the door, then laughed a little when he got them into a position where he could see who the miscreants were. "Well, well," he said. "I was about to say two lads your age had no business in the Hog's Head, but two lads your age have no business in Hogsmeade, as it happens. You're Gryffindors, right?"

"Yessir," one of them piped up nervously.

He sighed. He really didn't want to deal with Albus today. That said, Minerva was basically family to these trouble makers, and she was already in Hogsmeade, so he could probably get away with calling her instead. "Stay," he said firmly to the boys, in a tone of voice that suggested he'd hex them if they moved an inch. Then, Aberforth straightened up and cast his Patronus, sending it off to Minerva with a request that she make her way over to the alley beside the Hog's Head.

It didn't take her long to arrive, and she looked as amused as he felt when she got there. "Gideon and Fabian Prewett," Minerva said, chuckling. "Honestly, boys, it hasn't even been a month. I don't suppose you could have stayed out of trouble for thirty full days, could you?"

One of the rugrats shrugged. "Sorry Aunt Minerva. It's not in our nature."

"We're predisposed to chaos," the other said.

"No Hogsmeade until next year for you boys," Minerva said sternly. "You know this. If you need something from town, why not ask Deidra to pick it up for you? She's third year now."

"Yeah, and a Slytherin!" one of the twins objected.

Aberforth cuffed that one's ear. "So?" he demanded.

Minerva sighed. "Half your family is Slytherin, child. Get over it. Deidra is your cousin, and I'm sure she'd be happy to help you out. If not, I'm not waddling quite yet, so you could always ask me, or even Professor Dumbledore for assistance. As your Head of House, Professor Dumbledore should be able to assist you in your supply needs, even if it's sweets."

"Especially if it's sweets, honestly," Aberforth remarked.

"Good point," Minerva laughed.

The twins both sighed. "Fine. So how much trouble are we in, Aunt Minerva?"

She looked thoughtful. "Technically, I'm on leave, boys. I'm not actually required to report you, so if you are back up in the castle in the next five minutes, I think I can pretend I never saw you."

"Five minutes? Aunt Minerva!" one of the boys asked, exasperated, as if she'd asked the impossible of them.

"I'd suggest you run, gentlemen," Minerva suggested firmly.

Aberforth laughed heartily as both boys took off in a blur of ginger hair. He rested a hand on her shoulder. "You're going to be a wonderful Mum, Minerva," he said warmly. "Have no doubt of that."

She huffed. "Between the students and Edmund, I've certainly had some practice. Still, it's not the same when it's your own child, I don't think. My relationship with my parents is strained and honestly, I haven't even worked up the nerve to tell them I'm pregnant yet."

"You see them that infrequently?" he inquired.

"Mal makes time to see them once a month or so, and he's expressly forbidden to tell them I'm pregnant, not that he didn't give me an earful himself when he found out I was expecting," Minerva admitted. "Robert… Rob wanted to take over my prenatal care, which all due respect to my brother's abilities as a healer, he is not going to see the parts of me that a healer assisting me giving birth would be required to see. That's not happening. I'll stick with Poppy."

Aberforth chuckled. "Just go with my daughter seeing all that instead. Got it."

"It's the Wizarding world, Aberforth," she remarked. "Everyone is related to someone. At least Poppy isn't closely related to me. I'm sure the Rosses and the Princes connect somewhere up the line, if not the Rosses and the Dumbledores, but she's not my sister, my aunt, or my bloody Mum, and that is all that matters to me."

"You planning to tell your parents sometime?" he asked. "Or are you going to wait until after the child is born to consider touching base with your folks again, and not mention you have a kid now when you do?"

"Don't think I haven't considered the notion," she snipped. "My father is a Minister. My mother's reaction will be poor. That's a given. I'm an unwed mother of fairly good breeding and so forth and I should have known better than to put myself in this shameful position. My father, however, will be more than outraged. He might just disown me, and then my desire to see my parents will be a moot point, as she concedes to his wishes, and if he decides they no longer have a daughter, then effectively, I no longer have parents. Given my choice of careers, I'm already on the edge of disownment, and this may well tip him over the edge."

"What's your father got against teachers?" Aberforth asked, frowning.

"In his mind, that is a man's job, as most things are," she replied, tone clipped in irritation. "Had I opted to be a seamstress, he'd have been fine with it. That's woman's work. I might have even been able to get away with being a librarian or if I was pushing my luck, working in a bookshop. Of course, if I'd owned the bookshop, then I'd have crossed into a man's job territory. He's very old fashioned, Aberforth, and I'm a modern woman. He's a Muggle Rector, and I'm a Witch. I'll never be able to please him. I accepted that years ago, but there was a line between knowing I couldn't please him and so utterly shaming him that he would refuse to acknowledge me. To have a child out of wedlock, I believe, crosses the line."

"I'm sorry," he said with a sigh. "I'd offer you a bloody drink right about now but you can't partake."

"Don't remind me," she laughed.

"Letting people down is a bugger," he admitted after a pause. "Poppy has flourished despite how much I've let her down. I look at her and I'm blown away at how wonderful a woman she's grown into. She had such a hard start. All of that is to say that as a parent, the best we can do is try to be better than what we knew as children. We can only try to give our children support and love when we're given the chance to offer it. We make the most of those moments, and understand that life can often be choosy about when those moments come."

Minerva nodded.

"Abe!"

Aberforth turned his head to see Svetlana Lestrange walking toward them, a bright smile on her face. "Hello," he greeted, pulling her into a hug. "What are you doing in Hogsmeade? Is that even safe?"

"McGonagall," Svetlana greeted Minerva, before turning to answer her brother's question. "Well, according to Hermione and Cedrella, if I'm going to go out and about, it's best I do so on days and times there are going to be the largest crowds, as it's unlikely my family would make a move with so many witnesses. I figured a Hogsmeade weekend would be a safe bet, and I did want to see you."

"Not an unwise suggestion," Minerva agreed. "I didn't see you at Grimmauld Place last I was over there, Lestrange. Were you just out and about, or has Hermione moved you elsewhere?"

"Moved," Svetlana admitted. "I'm at the Burrow with the Weasleys, now. With Septimus at work all day, and what happened to Cedrella's parents a while back, Hermione thought it wise to have another adult at the house who could be a wand in case of attack. I'm studying for my Arithmancy Mastery under Hermione, but I can do that from anywhere, really. At least if I'm doing it from the Burrow, if there's an attack, I can be of use to Cedrella in getting the boys to safety. Besides, Septimus is a dab hand at Arithmancy himself, and he's been helping me study in the evenings if he's not too tired from work. Honestly, he's turning into a good friend."

Aberforth nodded. "Hermione has the Burrow warded fairly well, in any case. Attack is unlikely, but if there was one, she's right in thinking that Cedrella could use the extra wand. Even if Septimus was home, having you there would be one adult to each child, allowing each of you to protect one child while you evacuated."

"Yes," his sister agreed. "Or, if it's just me and Cedrella, the agreement is I take the two older boys, and she takes Edmund and gets off a Patronus to Hermione. It leaves each of us with two tasks. We still evacuate, but one way or another, Hermione would need to be told, and if our exit was blocked for some reason, alerting Hermione as a matter of priority would mean help getting there sooner."

Minerva chuckled. "Of course, once Hermione got there, whoever was attacking would be feeling some deep regret within moments."

Svetlana looked at Minerva curiously. "Have you seen her in action, McGonagall? Like actually in a duel?"

"Not outside of practices," Minerva admitted. "I have seen the end result, however. The day Edmund was born, Cedrella and I were pinned down at Flourish and Blotts, in Diagon Alley, and one minute there seemed to be no hope of rescue, and the next Hermione was there and the entire situation had changed. She popped in to check on us, and then left again, and an hour later the battle was over. Dozens of Death Eaters had been holding position at Gringotts, Knockturn Alley, and at the Leaky Cauldron entrance to Diagon Alley, and then she showed up and dismantled all their defenses in short order. The Aurors had been trying for hours prior to that and made no headway."

"Hell," Svetlana breathed. "I'd love to see her actually in a duel sometime. I bet she's glorious. Hermione is such a… well, a General, if you know what I mean. She's a chessmaster. She always seems to think of the long game, which is a handy skill in a large scale duel. In a battle situation, she can see what taking down one single fighter would do, and figure out what the most effective targets would be. In the more practical sense, I just look at her plans for me. I mean, she's got me working on my Mastery, of course. I'm not sure how she plans to accomplish it, but I think she means for me to work at Hogwarts eventually, although she keeps hinting I should use a different name when I do. I imagine she has some sort of long game in mind."

Minerva nodded. "If you worked at Hogwarts under your current name, it would merely be asking for your family to find you and attack you. A Professor Lestrange would be hard to miss, especially one teaching Arithmancy. However, if you have an alternate name, they are unlikely to investigate a seemingly random Arithmancy Professor of Hogwarts."

"Especially considering they will not think you had the resources to gain a Mastery," Aberforth agreed.

Svetlana shrugged. "It'll be a few years, in any case. From what Hermione has hinted, she wants me to get the Mastery, establish the new identity, and then live with that for a couple of years before getting me into place at Hogwarts. It would be too obvious otherwise. A five year plan, give or take, in other words."

"The long game," Minerva said.

"Righto, McGonagall," the other woman remarked. "Think that kid of yours is going to end up taking Arithmancy? I'm kind of wondering if I'm going to end up teaching your child. By the time he or she is at Hogwarts, I should be a Professor there."

"He," the Scottish woman deferred, "and it will depend on if he's more like me or his father. You know full well I was dreadful at Arithmancy. Orion was decent at it, though, and took the class up through NEWT level."

Svetlana nodded. "That's right, he did. Why didn't he tutor you, then, if you two were a thing way back at Hogwarts?"

"Sixth year when we were together, I was too worried about getting caught to have him tutor me," Minerva admitted. "We weren't meant to be together. Seventh year, we weren't together anymore. He was already betrothed to Walburga by then."

"Gods," Svetlana groaned. "She is such a cow."

"That's a universal opinion around here," Aberforth remarked. "Hermione doesn't like her very much either. Nor does Sirius."

"That just means they have taste," Svetlana remarked. "I have to admit through, McGonagall, points for giving Walburga the biggest possible fuck you in the world."

"I somehow doubt that was her goal, Lana," Aberforth chastised.

"No," Minerva replied dryly, "however it is a bonus."

All three laughed.

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