. . .
"If you find someone you love, then hang on to that love."
― Lady Diana, Princess of Wales
. . .
Ollivanders Fine Wands | Diagon Alley | London | Some time during the 10th century A.D.
Godric Gryffindor, facial features set in stone and without his usual optimistic smirk, took a deep breath before he pushed open the door to the old shop.
Ollivanders
"Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C."
His entirely black robes swirled behind him as the door shut, the small bag still safely secured beneath them. Immediately, the familiar smell of ancient wood touched his nostrils, and a feeling of warmth spread through his body that he hadn't felt for weeks. Since that fateful night when his entire life turned upside down.
"Godric," the shopkeeper's voice sounded from somewhere in the back. "What a surprise, old friend."
The wizard managed a smile and extended his hand for the other wizard to shake.
"Gaius," he acknowledged. "It's been too long."
Gaius Ollivander nodded, and his dark brown eyes saddened upon taking in Gryffindor's appearance. "I wish it was under better circumstances. My deepest condolences, Godric. We were all so sorry when we heard the news about Morgana's passing."
Gryffindor swallowed the lump in his throat. His blue eyes started to well up, but always the brave man he was so famous for, he wouldn't let them fall.
"Is the child doing alright?" Gaius asked carefully, knowing full well that the other man was still grieving the loss of his beloved wife.
The hint of a smile flashed across his features. "She named him Hyperion. After the titan god of heavenly light. It was the last thing she did before she –"
His voice broke, and he covered his eyes with his hands.
"What a fitting name, indeed," Gaius offered and gently touched his old friend's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him somehow. "He will make his mother proud, I have no doubt."
Gryffindor only nodded. Gaius flicked his wand, and two cups of steaming hot tea came flying from the back of the shop. The wizard accepted his cup with a grateful smile, took a sip, sat the cup down again, and retrieved two rectangle-shaped black velvet boxes from his bag – one adorned with a black-rose pattern, the other one slightly larger in its size, and adorned with two hearts entwined. He handed them both to the wandmaker without uttering another word.
Gaius accepted the boxes with a raised eyebrow before he carefully opened the larger box.
Two wands – neatly placed next to each other – greeted his sight and his brown eyes lit up.
"These are beautiful, Godric!" he exclaimed. "I assume you made them yourself?"
Gryffindor nodded, and his lips formed into a genuine smile.
With a flick of his wand, glasses placed themselves at the top of his nose, and he began to examine the wands eagerly. "Oh, 10 ¼ '' long , made of fir, swishy and a gryphon-heart- string… and the other… also 10 ¼ '' long, swishy, gryphon-heart-string, but you used a willow-branch for this one, I assume?"
Again, the Hogwarts-founder nodded. "Quite right."
"If you ever get tired of teaching, you should consider a career as a wandmaker, Godric. These are indeed marvellous. Why would you want to give them away?"
A shadow immediately crossed his face. " I intended to give them both to my children…" His voice broke again. "Morgana and I always wanted a huge family… But apparently it wasn't in our cards."
A silence fell over the two friends. "These wands belong together. They will work best when chosen by siblings. It would be cruel to separate them – or only use one, mind you."
"But what about your son?" Gaius asked worriedly.
"I have already started crafting a new one for Hyperion," Gryffindor explained with a small smile. "Thus, I would really appreciate it if you were to take these two wands. They will choose their rightful owners eventually, I am sure of that."
Gaius nodded. "Of course," he replied, and carefully closed the box. "I will take good care of them. Who did this one belong to?" He then asked, and picked up the second black velvet box.
Upon opening it, the wandmaker's eyes grew big as saucers when he looked at the beautiful ancient wand – made from wood as dark as the night, elegant, refined and very powerful with an emerald coloured glass piece protruding out of the elaborate handle. His mouth dropped towards the floor and he looked at his old friend as if he had lost his mind.
"Is - was that Lady Morgana's wand?" he eventually stuttered, and continued to look from the wand to his old friend and back.
Gryffindor nodded – his blue eyes hard as steel and grief shimmering in them. "It's 9½ inches long, made of fir wood, and with a dragon heartstring at its core. You shouldn't be touching it without gloves."
Gaius' hands started to shake. Then he took a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully touched the emerald-coloured glass at the handle. He lifted the wand, and glanced at it more carefully while turning.
"A lot of ancient magic was used for that wand," Gaius mumbled, and gave it a flick. The flower at the far end of the room he had aimed it at was immediately engulfed in dark smoke and only seconds later, the petals of the once beautiful rose turned black and moments later dissolved into ashes and crumbled towards the floor. "Very dark magic, Godric."
Godric Gryffindor sighed, but nodded nonetheless. "Morgana crafted it herself. You know about her past, Gaius. Her heart used to be as dark as these ashes," the said and gestured toward the remains of the rose. "But it's part of her story. A testimony of her love, and the power it holds. She asked me to keep her legacy alive."
Gaius looked rather troubled. "People will stop at nothing to get their hands on a wand as ancient and powerful as this. And you know blood will surely be spilled… more so than for the Elder Wand."
"The only blood spilled will be of those unworthy," Godric explained, and handed him a piece of paper with a beautiful handwriting on it. Gaius quickly skimmed over the lines and albeit his eyes grew bigger and bigger, his head moved up and down in approval.
"Morgana made sure that everybody who touches the wand in an attempt to gain power for that purpose alone will die shortly after."
"That explains the gloves," the old wandmaker mumbled. "Uncanny, I admit. But very efficient, indeed. I will honour her wand until there will be someone worthy of it. I'll give you my word, old friend."
McGonagall Manor | Present day
"What exactly are you doing, Severus?"
Narcissa was staring at the scene unfolding in front of her, and she couldn't help the smile that was spreading across her face.
"I'm trying to make the best of this situation," the potions master explained with a raised eyebrow as he looked up from the sofa, where he was about to make his bed for the night. "I know she denied it, but this room distribution has Arina's name written all over it . . . "
"Perhaps," Narcissa replied with a smile, "perhaps not. But nonetheless, the bed is big enough for both of us. No need to hurt your back."
Severus' head shot up, black eyes meeting blue. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I don't think I could control myself if - "
Narcissa got up from her spot on the queen-sized bed and walked towards him.
Servus sucked in a deep breath when he felt her fingers on his skin, tracing the scar where Nagini had bitten him.
"Cissa –"
Narcissa looked at him – eyes uncertain.
The wizard sighed. "I'm damaged goods. A lost soul of the war."
The witch stepped closer to him, their faces almost touching when she placed her arms around his neck. "Aren't we both?"
. . .
Ginny couldn't help but smile while she held onto the Mablomi until Harry, Hermione, Arina and Professor McGonagall returned from the memories. There they sat, in the living room of their former teachers – the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, mind you – watching a blonde-haired little girl having the time of her life.
It was indeed a sight for sore eyes: Professor Dumbledore, with little Arielle on his lap, and Aidan sitting on the other end of the sofa, both using their wands to transfigure each and every pillow there was into soap bubbles.
"Now that's something I never thought I'd see," Aberforth Dumbledore mumbled upon entering the living room; Rolanda Hooch, Augusta Longbottom and Xemerius Brooks in tow.
"Neither did I," Neville's grandmother admitted, smiling, "but I do think it's adorable."
"And to imagine," Rolanda began, partly bewildered, partly happy, "that Albus and Minerva have been raising Arina, just like that, behind our backs without any of us noticing."
Xem grinned. "Speak for yourself, Ro."
The flying instructor was about to reply, but Dumbledore was quicker. "If the lot of you is done staring, you might sit down. Sunny was about to serve some tea."
"If you had shown me that lovely family of yours, I wouldn't have to stare, Albus," Rolanda shot back, still not quite over her grudge, but sat down nonetheless and she couldn't quite help the smile when her eyes fell on little Arielle.
"Aidan, dear, would you mind?" she asked, carefully, and gestured towards the little girl on Albus' lap.
The young surgeon laughed at her hesitation, and Ginny had to agree that it was quite unlike the flying instructor's usual antics.
"Not at all," Dan replied, smiling. "I'm sure Ellie is delighted to have so many people keeping her entertained."
Augusta laughed. "Enjoy that time as long as it lasts, dear. They grow up so quickly, don't they, Albus?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "Indeed they do," he replied. "It seems like yesterday when Minerva was sitting right there, working on some essays with Arina snuggled up against her."
This said, he got up and picked up a framed picture from the mantelpiece and handed it to Augusta and his brother. It showed his wife and daughter during the described situation. The transfiguration mistress was wearing a slight green summer dress, her hair done in a beautiful french braid, her emerald eyes sparkling with joy and the baby on her lap was giggling happily into the camera.
Aberforth Dumbledore stared at the picture with newfound admiration and astonishment. "That's a picture perfect if there ever was one, brother," he said, and Ginny couldn't agree more.
. . .
Minerva was watching curiously how the new memory was set around them. Blood red waves were swirling around them and trees and a river started to form.
"Was ist difficult?" Hermione suddenly asked, turning towards her. "To know about Grindelwald and all, but not being able to do anything about it?"
Minerva sighed. It had been painful not to reveal anything back then, but it was a lot more difficult watching it all over again than she had anticipated. Although she was quite aware of the fact that these were by far not the most excruciating moments her life had to offer. And her heart almost skipped a beat when she thought about how Harry and Hermione would feel when they'd watch them.
"It wasn't easy," the elderly witch admitted sadly, "but I was too afraid to meddle even more with the timeline than I already had . . . "
She noticed out of the corner of her eye how her daughter raised an eyebrow, smiling. "You wouldn't tell Dad about Grindelwald's intentions, but you let him fall in love with you?"
Minerva felt her cheeks blushing, even more so when Harry and Hermione started grinning from ear to ear.
"Believe it or not, I tried very hard not to let that happen either," Minerva shrugged and she really meant it. Heavens, she had never intended to fall in love with Albus – well, the younger version of him. She had been quite aware that nothing good would have ever come of it.
Arina only laughed and linked her arm with her mother. "Well, it is a love story to be remembered, that's for sure."
Godric's Hollow | 1936
"Esmie? Please, can we talk?"
The young witch jumped slightly, but didn't move. Luckily Ariana hadn't heard their earlier fight – she was still sleeping peacefully in her room.
Minerva on the other hand hadn't been able to sleep a wink. She kept tossing and turning, and once she finally drifted off to sleep, the horrific scenes in her dreams woke her up instantly.
So she'd sneaked out of the house, through the protective wards and had just wandered around Godric's Hollow – enjoying the peacefulness of the silent and starry night.
Somewhat lost, she'd stopped by a small river and to her surprise, there was even a small bench at the shore.
She didn't know for how long she'd simply sat there, staring at the water – thinking about the war that was about to come, the fate Ariana would suffer, the family she'd lost, the friends she'd made here, and the way she longed to just stay in the past and leave her future behind.
"How did you find me?" She finally asked, a tad angry, a tad surprised – usually, her father had been the only one who was able to find her.
"Don't know," Albus admitted. "Had a feeling you might end up here."
After hesitating shortly, he sat down next to her – also staring at the current in silence.
"I wanted to apologise," he finally whispered after some time.
Minerva turned her head – bright emerald eyes glancing at him knowingly. "Although you don't quite understand what you're apologising for?" she prompted.
Surprise flashed over his face instantly. "Not many people can read me like that…" he mumbled and a deep sigh escaped him. "You're right. I don't quite get everything you said. But I can also tell that there's more behind your reasoning than you let me know."
Now it was Minerva who was taken by surprise.
"People get hurt whenever dark magic is involved," she whispered, not quite trusting her voice, not quite daring to reveal more of the future than she already had.
Albus sat up straight and shifted. "Your sister?"
"Maybe," was all Minerva said, and continued staring at the water.
The auburn-haired wizard sighed. "Esmie –"
"I can't tell you any more, Albus," she interrupted vehemently. "I know I can't fully convince you. That's alright, I get it. Just… please… try to keep an open mind. That's all I ask for."
A bit taken aback by the resignation and honesty in her voice, Albus put his arm around her shoulders and nodded. "I'll try," he whispered into her ear as she leaned back into his embrace. "I promise."
. . .
Godric's Hollow | One week later
"Will you come back next holiday, Esmie?" Ariana all but begged, as she watched the young witch and her brother shrink their luggage – ready to return to Hogwarts.
"Erm…" Minerva was hit by the question rather unprepared, and her emerald eyes travelled from Albus to Kendra and back to Ariana.
While Albus blushed slightly, Kendra only smiled. "Esmeralda is always welcome here."
The young witch returned the smile gratefully, before she walked towards Ariana.
"I'm going to miss you, Ana," she whispered – her voice hoarse and filled with emotions as she hugged the young girl tightly.
"I miss you, too, Esmie," Ariana answered and buried her face in the crook of her neck. Tears also welled up in Minerva's eyes, and she tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat – knowing full well that she'd never see the sweet little girl again. "I'll work on controlling my emotions, I promise, Esmie, like you showed me! And when you're back, you'll be proud of me!"
The emerald-eyed witch brushed her fingers through Ana's hair and gave her a small kiss on the forehead. "You do that. But I'm proud of you already."
"Ready?" Albus asked, smiling at the scene.
"Ready, when you are," Minerva answered with a somewhat sadder smile as she got up from the floor and wiped away the lonely tear that had rolled down her cheek as she waved her good-byes to Ariana and Kendra.
. . .
Harry turned towards Professor McGonagall, and as he had assumed, tears were shimmering in her emerald eyes and his heart went out to her.
"That was one of the hardest goodbyes," she admitted, and held on tighter to her daughter's arm. Arina in return brought her arms around her mother.
After the holidays | Hogwarts | Potions classroom
"So how was it?" Bart asked with a smug grin as they started collecting their ingredients for their positions.
"How was what?" Albus asked, eyebrows raised. He didn't look at his friend, for his gaze was already occupied – resting with a somewhat awed expression on the bright and beautiful German exchange student.
"Oh come on, Albus, you can tell me!" Bart smirked and nudged him playfully, causing the blue-eyed wizard to finally tear his gaze away from the witch.
"I don't know what you mean, Bartholomew," Albus hissed, as the potions professor scolded them for not paying attention.
"You invited Esmeralda to your home over the holidays, Albus," Bart whispered. "Now you're back and you can't take your eyes off her. You can't tell me you didn't do it. Put your broomstick into her closet… if you know what I mean?"
Albus' head turned towards him at a neck-breaking speed, his blue eyes widened instantly and he accidently cut the beetle eye – that was supposed to go into the potion in one piece – in half. The result was a fuming and purple bubbling potion.
. . .
Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud at seeing his old-young headmaster's stunned expression. Amusedly, he remembered long conversations with Seamus, Dean and Ron in their dormitories back in the days. He glanced around and saw Arina and Hermione laughing as well, and even Professor McGonagall was chuckling slightly.
"Merlin, these were the early 30's," the emerald-eyed witch mumbled between her chuckles. "Not everyone was as used to talking so openly about romances and relationships and everything in between as Bartholomew."
. . .
"Bloody hell Bart," Albus hissed once more as he tried to clean up the mess he had caused. With a flick of his wand, a towel appeared from the back of the room and absorbed the purple liquid. "I - we - didn't do any of the sort."
For a moment, Bartholomew was silent. "You actually like her, don't you?" he asked, surprised, and eyed his best friend with a raised eyebrow.
Albus didn't say anything; but the desperate sigh that escaped him and the soft crimson blush that crept over his cheeks was answer enough.
"Wow, you're really serious about her," Bart whispered excitedly and casually added another ingredient to their potion. "I mean, she's quite the sight, but you've had a lot of pretty things lined up for you before – and you never hesitated showing your … affections … towards them."
Albus finally had his colouring under control again and turned his head to look at his friend with a raised eyebrow. "Now what's that supposed to mean?"
Bart chuckled. "I mean," he whispered – obviously having fun with teasing his friend, "that once things with Lavinia ended, you weren't really interested in _courting_ anyone seriously."
The auburn-haired wizard rolled his eyes. "Esmie and I are not dating," he stated, but Bart chuckled even more.
"I can see that you are not, you stupid old Hippogriff," Bart laughed out loud – and immediately got smacked over the head with a book by Professor Jefferson. "Argh, the 7th-year potions book is even thicker than last year's volume… What I say is that you'd actually like to court her. Properly, I mean."
Albus blushed once again.
"She's a beauty and has brains – I know that's important to you," Bart wouldn't let his friend off that easily. "But I can see you're trying to make an effort. What does she have that others don't?"
The blue-eyed wizard didn't answer immediately – instead, he appeared to be really thinking about his friend's question while he continued chopping up some black-cat-hair to add to their potion.
"She's got courage, and she's kind," Albus finally whispered, not looking up from the bubbling potion. "And I guess it's the fact that she doesn't stand there "lined up" for me… as you so nicely phrased it earlier." He sighed. "She challenges me, gets me to think… in a way no one else has done before." Another moment of silence followed. "And I just really enjoy being around her. Does this make any sense?"
Bartholomew shook his head, smirking happily at his friend. "Damn, mate, you've fallen harder than I thought!"
. . .
Hogwarts | Great Hall | Late May 1936
"Have you heard about the boggart that escaped from the DADA closet?" One of the Slytherins laughed while waiting for Professor Merryweather to start the music for their next dance lesson. "The little Gryffindors must be scared out of their minds right now."
"At least they've got enough brains to recognize it then," a feisty Ravenclaw girl shouted back with a smug grin on her face.
While Albus only rolled his eyes, Bart – evidently smithen by the girl's quick remark – decided to cross the room and pair up with said Ravenclaw for the next dance.
The only one who didn't seem all that amused by the announcement was the young emerald-eyed witch. Her eyes had widened and she inconspicuously checked out the Great Hall for potential boggart-hiding spots.
Her head, however, shot around quickly when Professor Merryweather appeared right in the middle of the Hall.
"Please excuse my delay," she apologised, slightly out of breath. "Now, the school year is drawing to a close. Which means that this will also be our last dancing lesson."
Some boys cheered, some girls looked rather relieved – the others (boys and girls alike) seemed to be a tad sad, for they had grown quite eager to improve their dancing.
"Which leads us to the last point on the agenda: Selecting the couple for the opening dance," she said, smiling triumphantly.
The Great Hall erupted in excited cheers once again, but before most students could even think about possible candidates, Lavinia LaRôche stepped forward.
"I'd like to volunteer myself and of course, everybody's favourite," Lavinia suggested sweetly, "Albus Dumbledore – we've already worked together splendidly on several occasions. I'm sure the others will agree."
A lot of things happened at the same time. Lavinia's closest friends – a bunch of Ravenclaw girls – cheered louder than they ever had before. Others – who were probably jealous of the blonde haired witch – glared at her and started protesting immediately. Some Hufflepuff girls looked rather disappointed – their hopes of opening the dance crushed by the most popular girl in school probably getting the spot. Only a pair of Gryffindor girls – along with Minerva – followed the scene with raised eyebrows – apparently aware that the couple had split months ago and wondering where Lavinia was heading with this. The boys – mostly – had their emotions in check. Some of the Slytherin boys snickered and huffed condescending. Others looked relieved to have a male suggested so they wouldn't have to dance the first dance themselves. Bartholomew laughed whole-heartedly and clapped his friend on the shoulder repeatedly. The auburn-haired wizard himself looked as if he was hoping for a giant hole in the ground to open and swallow him completely.
Having enough, Professor Merryweather held up her wand and sent up red sparks to get everyone's attention before she turned to Lavinia.
"Thank you, Miss LaRôche, for volunteering. I do agree with you," she answered happily and moved her gaze towards Albus. "You were, in fact, at the top of my list, Mr. Dumbledore. I can see you are a very skilled dancer and you've made quite the improvement."
The auburn-haired wizard blushed – whether it was due to shame or embarrassment… no one could tell.
"What do you say, Mr. Dumbledore?" Merryweather asked, smirking.
Albus sighed and ignored the cheers in the background. "Since I don't seem to have a choice," he mumbled – less than excited – and stepped forward to shake Merryweather's outstretched hand and position himself next to Lavinia, who had a smug smile on her face. "I'd be honoured, Professor."
"Splendid!" The old witch said, and clapped her hands happily. "All that's left now is to find you a suitable dance partner, Mr. Dumbledore."
Albus' head spun towards her with neck-breaking speed, and Lavinia's smirk was wiped off her face instantly.
"Professor," Lavinia said, as sweetly as ever although her voice was quivering slightly. "I was under the impression that I - "
Merryweather tried her best to hide her smirk, but it didn't really work. "I did agree with your choice of Mr. Dumbledore opening the first dance, Miss LaRôche. However, you don't really seem very comfortable dancing together. You need to loosen up a bit, dearie."
By now, it was the blonde girl who looked ready to be swallowed by the ground and a deep crimson blush spread over her entire face.
"And before you girls start competing over who gets to team up with Mr. Dumbledore, I have allowed myself to make that decision for you," the transfiguration Professor continued and turned towards the girls, who already whispered excitedly. "Miss Pendragon, where are you, my dear?"
Every single eye – including Albus' own bright blue ones that had widened in surprise — searched the hall for the blonde exchange student, who looked as if she'd been hit with a stupor. Emerald eyes wide, and her lips slightly parted.
"But - But she's been at Hogwarts for only a couple of months," Lavinia cried out in protest.
Merryweather raised an eyebrow. "I'm quite aware of that. But she'll also be graduating, and from what I have observed, her way of dancing seems to be perfectly matched with Mr. Dumbledore's."
"I agree," Bart shouted amusedly, his arm wrapped around his Ravenclaw girl, and other voices followed his example. Most 7th graders were happy to see the blonde girl put into place for once.
"Miss Pendragon," the Professor questioned the emerald-eyed witch now directly, a small smile playing around her lips.
Minerva, however, still seemed to be stunned.
"Esmie?" Albus finally took matters into his own hands, stepped towards her, took her hands in his and smiled at her somewhat shyly.
Her lips turned into a small smile, and a soft rosy blush coloured her cheeks as she nodded her head in agreement.
. . .
Hogwarts | Prefects' Bathroom | early June 1936
"Are you sure I'm allowed to go in there?" Minerva asked some weeks later as she followed Albus towards the luxury bathroom that was located on the fifth floor.
Albus smirked. "I'm Headboy, I'm allowed in there."
The witch didn't look convinced.
"Besides, the others hardly ever go in there. We won't be disturbed and it's the perfect opportunity to practise the lift."
Minerva only sighed, but a small smile graced her lips. Their dancing had progressed like Professor Merryweather had predicted – they moved perfectly together and Minerva almost felt like she belonged right there into his strong arms. She was sure that they'd have no trouble with opening the graduation ball, had it not been for the idea to include a lifting figure. The idea – how could it be differently – had casually been thrown into the room by none other than Bartholomew over breakfast.
Albus and Minerva had looked up at the same time, and when their eyes met, it was already obvious that they'd been intrigued to give Bart's idea at least a try.
Since neither of them was particularly fond of trying the lift in front of the others, Albus had suggested they head to the Prefect's Bathroom – plenty of water to practise a lift without causing any injuries.
Albeit hesitant at first, Minerva had agreed. She just wasn't sure if it was a good idea to be that close to him and his body with nothing but their swimsuits on…
"Si vis amari, ama," Albus mumbled the password and tried to hide the soft blush that crept over his cheeks as he grabbed her hand to pull her into the room with him.
Having translated the password, Minerva's cheeks also turned slightly rosy.
. . .
"If you wish to be loved, love," Professor McGonagall translated for Harry and Hermione, smiling slightly. "I still wonder who chose that particular phrase that day…"
. . .
The sight that greeted them would have been even more overwhelming if Minerva hadn't already been in the Prefect's Bathroom during her own school time.
The room was beautiful and well lit, with large stained-glass windows depicting sirens. And apart from all the baths and stalls and cosy sofas, there was also a ridiculously massive in-ground swimming pool surrounded by many golden taps in various shapes and sizes, each providing a different scented soap. At the far end of the wonderfully smelling room, there was a golden shimmering closet that – if Minerva remembered correctly – provided towels in almost every size.
"I'll change and just go and grab a towel for later. Would you like me to bring you one as well, Albus?" she asked, turning around to look at the blue-eyed wizard.
"That would be great, thanks," Albus replied. "I'll take a quick swim until you're done if you don't mind."
"Not at all," Minerva smiled and headed towards the end of the room – however, not without stealing a glance at her friend, who had just dropped his school uniform to reveal a pair of swim-shorts and a well-trained upper body. Tearing her glance away from the sight, Minerva put her things down on one of the sofas, and mumbled a quick spell that had her swim-wear fly out of her bag and on her body. After that, she used her wand to fold her school uniform neatly and opened the golden doors to grab their towels.
The sight that greeted her, however, caused her to stumble backwards.
"Well, well, well," the shadowed figure cackled as she slowly made her way out of the closet – wand drawn and walking right towards Minerva. "If that isn't Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes."
"No, No… this can't be…" Minerva mumbled, her voice barely more than a frightened whisper as she continued to stumble further backwards.
"Oh stop it already, would you?" the figure loathed, pulling back the hood that had covered her face only to reveal –
. . .
"Is that you?" Arina asked, dumbfounded, as she stared at the young version of her mother in the memory and the dark and scary figure that had walked out of the closet.
Professor McGonagall sighed. "Not me, perse," she mumbled, "but a version of me that I'd always dreaded to become."
Hermione glanced at the elderly witch with wide eyes before she returned her gaze to the scary figure that had escaped the closet. That particular version of the young witch looked utterly frightening. Her porcelain skin was coloured ashen, with scars on her face and throat. Her long ebony curls were almost straight, but at the same time filthy and tousled. The figure's robes were entirely black, sliced open at the sleeves and the cloak that floated behind her was covered in dirt and dust. The most frightening thing, however, wasn't the hollow look in the dark emerald eyes or the mad cackle that had escaped her, but the fact that the figure's hands were entirely covered in blood.
It took Harry a moment to realise it, but eventually, he knew what he was seeing.
"It's a boggart," Harry shouted out, and his heart almost stopped. He knew better than anyone what it was like to struggle with this particular kind of creature, and his heart went out to his Professor.
. . .
"Wh-what do you want?" Young Minerva asked, voice shaking. Apparently, she was too frightened to realise that the figure in front of her wasn't real.
Boggart-Minerva only cackled louder. "What do I want from you? Please. Do I look like I would ever like something from you, dearie? No. I'm here to show you what I can do for you!"
As the figure drew her wand, more blood dripped from her hands onto the floor. In the distance, Albus had apparently noticed that something was off, but his worried cry of "Esmie!" was left unheard by the terrified young witch.
"We can be great together, you and I!" the figure continued, voice rusty and hollow. "Think of all the things you could do if you just let go of your stupid morals. The power that flows through your veins is utterly wasted on you!"
Young Minerva's entire body was shaking and she continued walking further backwards. "I - I don't want –"
The figure sneered. "Of course you do. I am you, remember? You can't lie to me. I know your heart's desire. I know what's slumbering deep within you. The passionate spark to embrace your whole powers. To seek revenge on all the people that caused you pain. To let them pay for what they did to you – to your family."
Tears started streaming down the witch's cheeks; her legs gave in and she fell on her knees.
"Esmie!" Albus' voice suddenly sounded a lot more alarmed, and he crawled out of the pool and came running towards her. "It's a boggart! She's not real!"
Realisation dawned upon the young witch, and her emerald eyes grew wide, but she couldn't muster the strength to fight the creature in front of her.
"I'm nothing like you," the young witch screamed, and slowly lifted her shaking wand.
"You're not," the boggart cackled. "But you're lying to yourself. You want to be like me. You envy me – for I became the witch you so long to be."
Minerva's hand was shaking so much, she wasn't able to point her want at the boggart.
"You know better than anyone that good things never happen to good people. Just say the words, and we'll rule the world together. All you need to do is –"
Her words were cut short by a powerful "ridiculous".
Albus' voice had thundered through the room as he jumped in front of young Minerva and cast the spell to get rid of the terrible creature. Once it had retreated back to the golden closet, Albus flicked his wand once more and a thick iron chain wrapped itself around it.
"That should do for now," he mumbled to himself before he turned around and lifted the terribly shaking witch into his arms. He didn't care about his appearance – still in swim shorts, bare chest and with water still dropping all around the floor – as he carried her out of the Bathroom all the way towards the Head Boy's private dormitory – holding her as tight to his body as humanly possible and not once letting go of her delicate frame.
. . .
Hermione felt her heart beating faster and faster with each passing scene. She had always known that there was more going on between the two professors – and she had been right after all.
But it was something completely different to watch these memories. Watching all these millions of tiny moments that created their love story… They allowed such a private sight into their lives – and Hermione treasured every minute of it.
Glancing to her side, she guessed that Harry had to feel just the same, for his eyes were also still glued to the slowly dissolving teenagers in the memory – eagerly waiting for a new scene to form.
Professor McGonagall – her arms entwined with her daughter's – seemed to be lightly overwhelmed.
"I never quite knew what happened after that boggart appeared," she mumbled, while watching the silhouette of their younger selves slowly disappearing. "I can't believe he didn't think of putting on some clothes . . . Imagine what would have been had someone seen us like that…"
. . .
Later that evening | Headboy's private quarters | Hogwarts | early June 1936
"So the thing you fear most in the world… is yourself?" Albus asked, slightly taken aback, after he had handed her a cup of steaming hot chamomile tea and turned to face the young witch, who was sitting - or rather still shaking - on the little chair next to his four-poster-bed.
The blonde beauty sighed. "One must be scared of something, aren't you?"
Albus winced. "Of course I am... but, well ... "
Minerva sighed. "The difference between good and evil lies in the choices you make. Often, it's tempting to do what's easy, not what's right."
"You're skilled, you have talent and power," Albus stated, matter-of-factly. "You've got what other people long for."
"Yeah, I do. A lot more than I would ever want."
Albus only stared at her.
"You should know better than anyone that with great power comes great responsibility, Albus," the emerald-eyed witch all but scolded. "Think about it, it's what the villains in the stories do… they use their power for their own desires, and don't care about the lives they destroy in the process. I cannot put my own happiness in front of somebody else's. If I did, how would I be different to the people I loathe so much?"
Albus sat there silently – pondering her words. She put her cup down, crossed the room and sat down on the bed next to him.
"My father always told me to have courage and be kind," she whispered. "When he died, I told myself to live up to that. Turns out it's a lot more difficult than I thought. I keep struggling… and sometimes, I long for making the easy choice. So, yeah, sometimes, I'm afraid of myself. Scared of turning into the worst version of myself. Of what I'm capable of. Of what I might do."
She leaned closer towards him and put her head down on his shoulder, beautiful emerald eyes closed. In return, Albus brought his strong arm around her waist – holding her tight and placing a featherlight kiss on her hair.
. . .
Next day | Headboy's private quarters | Hogwarts | early June 1936
The room was quite dark, but the first rays of sunlight started shining through the dormitory window – illuminating the huge four-poster-bed and the two young people sleeping peacefully in it.
. . .
"Heavens, mathaír! You didn't – you know – did you?" Arina couldn't quite help herself but ask, and stared at her mother with wide blue eyes.
The witch in question only rolled her eyes at her, also a slight blush coloured her usually ivory cheeks and Hermione wasn't able to prevent the giggle that escaped her.
"Don't look so frightened, kitten," the transfiguration mistress smirked, "nothing of the sort happened."
Arina visibly relaxed, that was, at least only until Minerva added the next sentence. "At least not in this memory. I'll tell you when you need to close your eyes, alright darling?"
While her aunt groaned loudly, Harry and Hermione burst out in laughter, and even the emerald-eyed witch couldn't help but chuckle.
. . .
The couple on the bed – albeit sleeping contently in each other's arms – still wore the same clothes they wore the night before. Well, in Albus' case that only meant his swim shorts, but still.
Young Esmeralda's head was resting on his shoulder while one hand was spread across his chest. In return, Albus had one shoulder underneath her head and the other one was securely wrapped around her waist.
Eventually, the beams of sunlight had reached the couple, making them stir slowly.
Minerva was the first to slowly open her emerald eyes. At first, she blinked a couple of times because her eyes were not used to the brightness yet, but once she realised where she was, or rather whom she was sleeping on, she almost jumped – naturally waking Albus in the process.
"What - what happened?" The wizard asked, still half asleep as he fumbled for his wand that was placed underneath his pillow.
"It seems we - well, fell asleep yesterday," Minerva whispered, and her cheeks blushed red as a rose.
Albus, blue eyes now fully opened, visibly relaxed. "Heavens, Esmie! You gave me a fright!" he admitted with a sigh of relief.
"I - I should go," the young witch mumbled, tossing away the covers, "before anyone sees us like this. I'm so sorry, Albus."
She was about to get up, but the young wizard carefully captured her delicate hand. "Don't be," he whispered. "I'm not. In fact, I would ask you to stay for a bit longer. That is, of course, only if you'd like to."
The young witch's emerald eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't move away from him. Instead, she smiled at him shyly.
"It's not that I don't like to stay," she whispered, "but I don't think it's appropriate. Imagine someone were to enter. . . "
Albus sat up straighter, nevertheless still holding on to her hand. His blue eyes looked more sincere than they ever had before. "These are the headboy's quarters. I assure you, no one gets in here without my knowing."
The witch shifted nervously. "Still, it wouldn't be right."
"Why not?"
The young blonde's lips turned into a small smile at his persistence. "I'm an exchange student, Albus. The year is almost over. I can't stay here. I need to go back - "
Albus shrugged and let go of her hand to carefully trace along her cheek. "At this point, I think I'd follow you anywhere, Esmie . . ."
The blush on her face turned into a dark crimson, and despite her obvious struggle, she leaned in closer and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his skin on hers.
"There is so much I cannot tell you, Albus. Please, it wouldn't be fair on you."
The wizard leaned in closer, and their lips were almost touching. He softly lifted her chin and looked into her eyes – deep blue meeting emerald green.
"I don't care," he whispered and leaned his forehead against hers. "All I care about is you, Esmeralda. And with your permission I'd really like to kiss you now."
Beautiful emerald eyes widened even more, and her heart visibly skipped a beat, but eventually, she gave into her own feelings.
The young auburn-haired wizard then leaned closer towards her, placed one hand carefully on the small of her back while the other one was slowly guiding her face towards his own, before he kissed her ever-so-gently.
. . .
Hogwarts | Graduation Day | June 1936
They found themselves just outside the Great Hall. The music was slowly fading down, and the young witches and wizards, dressed in their best dress-robes and gowns, began to desert the ballroom with their families.
A bit further way, young Albus – dressed in a fashionably handsome suit and tie – was walking towards the young emerald-eyed witch. Her blonde hair was falling down her back in golden curls and the gown she wore was beyond magical. It was almost as dark as the sea – with a shimmer of emerald that matched her eyes perfectly. A majestic silhouette exhibited a brilliant allure made of luxurious brocade fabric. Luscious embroidered blooms on the corset scattered up and down beautifully. The off-shoulder neckline enhanced her neck, while the voluminous pleated floor-length skirt added perfectly to the overall magic.
His auburn hair was bound together at the back of his neck and his bright blue eyes were filled with both deep love and utter sorrow when he looked at her.
"Do you really have to leave right now?" he asked, desperately, and carefully took her small hand into his own.
The young witch sighed and lowered her gaze – not allowing him to see the tears welling up in them.
"I wish I didn't," she whispered, "but I have to. I am so utterly sorry."
"I will find you," Albus whispered, not quite ready to let go of her hand. A tear finally rolled down Minerva's cheek, and she only hesitated for a short second before she stepped forward, cupped his face with her small hands and kissed him lovingly.
He responded by bringing his strong arms around her slim waist and pulling her even closer. Eventually, the kiss ended, but they still remained standing – foreheads still touching.
"Promise me," Esmeralda whispered, voice almost cracking, "promise me that you will find someone you love – someone else. That you'll move on."
"Esmie - " Albus started to protest, but the young witch gently, but firmly, put her finger on his mouth to stop him.
"Promise me," she repeated, tears shimmering in her lovely emerald eyes. "Please."
A wide range of emotion flowed through the wizard's blue eyes, before he lowered his head in agreement. "I promise."
Esmeralda nodded half-heartedly. Then she cupped his face with her small hands once more, and kissed him for one last time before gathering her emerald skirts and hurried out of the entrance hall – tears flowing down her cheeks like rivers now – to where her father was already waiting for her.
Apollo McGonagall didn't comment on anything he saw; he merely took his daughter's hand and apparated them both off Hogwarts' grounds.
. . .
Seconds later | Dumbledore family home | Godric's Hollow | 1936
Apparently, young Minerva had already changed for she wore her own Hogwarts robe and handed the beautiful emerald ball gown back to her father.
"Now remember, darling," Apollo McGonagall urged while handing her the repaired time-turner. "Time-turners were never built to jump forward in time. It takes a lot more energy and magic to do that, so you might be required to have some sort of "pitstop" somewhere along the timeline. But don't worry, it should only take a couple of minutes before the journey will continue. Kendra assured me that at this time of night, everybody is sound asleep, so you shouldn't encounter anyone."
The young witch took a deep breath to steady herself. "I really can't stay here, can I?" she asked, head lowered and eyes filled with tears.
Apollo sighed, and carefully lifted her chin with his fingers. "I'm so sorry, my darling," he whispered, before he pulled her into a tight embrace. "But you'll be just fine. You're your mother's daughter through and through. And there's no woman braver than her."
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
The witch brushed away her tears. "I - I - can you look after Albus for a bit?" she whispered. "I never meant to hurt him. I - I never meant for any of this to happen, but - "
Apollo put his finger on her lips to stop her apology. "Sometimes, we can't help who we fall in love with," the old wizard mumbled, and held her even closer. "But if it calms you, then yes, I'll look after him for a while."
Minerva sent him a grateful smile, pressed her face against his robe once again and took one deep breath - trying to remember her father's scent for one last time.
"Thank you, dad," she said and put the time-turner around her neck. "Thank you so much for everything."
"Always," was all Apollo managed to say before the girl in front of him began to glow in a golden light, and vanished.
. . .
"Mum, are you alright?" Arina asked, slightly worried about how silent her mother had become.
Harry turned and noticed the lonely tear that was rolling down the transfiguration mistress' cheek. Then it dawned upon him. She hadn't been there to witness the first memory they had seen about Apollo McGonagall.
It must have been the first time in ages to see her father again - up and alive that is.
"I'm quite alright, kitten," Professor McGonagall whispered, although her voice was hoarse and almost broke when she spoke. "I'm quite alright."
Harry wasn't really sure if she was telling the truth. But no matter how painful it was, he was also sure that deep down, her heart jumped with joy at seeing her father again. He knew his heart did the same every time he saw his parents in her memories.
. . .
Dumbledore Family Home | Godric's Hollow | Minerva's Graduation Day | 1954
Out of nowhere, young Minerva's body appeared in the small garden in front of the Dumbledore Family home in Godric's Hollow. Apparently, the journey back to the future had been a lot tougher than travelling into the past, for the still blonde-haired witch seemed to be lying on the grass unconscious and there was even a small cut on her forehead. Nevertheless, the newly repaired time turner was dangling from the golden chain around her neck as if nothing had ever happened.
After some time, the witch on the ground moved and manoeuvred herself into an upright position. She brought her hand to the forehead and her eyes widened by the small amount of blood that remained on her fingers after touching the wound.
She sighed. Then reached for her wand in the pocket of her Gryffindor robe. "Anno revelio" she mumbled, and sighed once again - this time in relief – when the numbers 1954 appeared right in front of her.
Mumbling a silent prayer to Morgana that present-time Albus wasn't home, she quickly apparated back to Hogwarts.
Unnoticedly, she slipped through the gates, crossed the transfiguration yard and hurried along the hallway until she reached Gryffindor tower.
She took another deep breath before she spoke the password and entered the common room.
A small smile swept across her face when she saw that the common room had been transformed into a hair- and make-up studio – for all the 7th year girls were in a hurry to get themselves ready for their upcoming graduation.
The boys, on the other hand, watched the enfolding scene with shaking heads. Most of them were already perfectly dressed in either dress-robes or handsome tuxedos.
"Minerva!" Xemerius' voice sounded from behind her. "Where in Merlin's name have you been? We've been looking all over for you! And – wait, what happened to you?" He asked when his grey eyes fell upon her bloodied forehead. "And what happened to your hair?"
The witch raised an eyebrow in confusion, before she remembered that her hair was still 'Esmie-blonde'.
"Oh," she said, laughing, before she flicked her wand and transformed her hair back to her usual ebony-colour. "I wanted to try something new… By the way, what time is it?"
Xem looked at her sceptically, but eventually he answered. "Half past 7. The ceremony is starting in 30 minutes."
Emerald eyes widened visibly. "Oh heavens!" she cursed and looked around at the other witches that were running up and down the stairs to get themselves ready.
"Poppy has been working on her hair for hours," Xem complained. "You really need to hurry up now and get dressed. Let's go."
All colour drained from the witch's face and she put her hands over her open mouth.
"What's the matter?" Xem asked, already half-way up the stairs.
The witch swallowed the lump in her throat and lowered her head with a disappointed sigh. "I - I don't know what to wear . . . I - I didn't have the time to go to Hogsmead today . . . "
"Wait," Xemerius intervened, utterly flummoxed, flicking his wand. "What are you talking about?"
Immediately, an old looking cardboard box came flying from the gallery. With a raised eyebrow he handed the parcel to Minerva. "If you didn't buy a new gown, why did your house elf deliver it then?"
With shaking hands, the young witch reached out for the small card that was attached to the box – her heart skipping a beat when she recognized her name ever-so-carefully scribbled in her father's delicate handwriting.
July, 1936
My darling Minerva,
I hope with all my heart that your journey back was successful. I couldn't bear the thought if something happened to you, my darling girl.
From what you've told me, I will not be able to attend your graduation. Thus, I am even more grateful that I was given the chance to see you dance through the night with Albus today.
Believe me when I say that my heart was filled with pride. And even though we're not here with you at this moment, your mother and I will always be proud of you, my love.
I have been thinking quite a lot about what sort of graduation present to get you… then it hit me. You will probably be grief-stricken that your mother won't be able to help you pick your own dress, but since she — sort of — already did, I thought you might want to wear your 'old' dress again — for old time's sake?
You looked so very beautiful wearing it.
I wish you a fabulous night, and all the happiness in the world.
And remember: If you find someone you love, then hang on to that love. Don't give up.
Your mother and I will always be with you.
Love always,
Dad
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Minerva whispered with tears shimmering in her emerald eyes as she carefully folded the small piece of parchment and stared at the beautiful emerald green ball gown in front of her.
Before Xemerius was able to respond, a young version of Poppy Pomfrey came running down the stairs — an enchanted hairbrush flying around and tending to her blonde hair while she fixed the couple with an almost deadly glare.
"What in Merlin's almighty name are the two of you still doing down here?" She asked, making Xemerius jump.
"Heavens, Pops! You gave me a fright."
Her light blue eyes sparkled dangerously. "I wouldn't have to if you had gone upstairs like I told you half an hour ago. The ball starts in thirty minutes. And you," she pointed at the emerald-eyed witch, "where have you been? We've been looking all over for you!"
The witch opened her mouth, ready to defend herself, but the blonde interrupted before she had the chance to respond. "Oh, never mind. Off you go now. Hurry!"
This said, she turned on her heel, and headed back upstairs for the girls dormitory — the enchanted hairbrush following her like a blunger on the quidditch pitch.
Xemerius sighed. "You know how she can be, Min. We should probably do as she says. You coming?" He asked, one eyebrow still raised.
The girl merely nodded, not taking her eyes off the precious gift. "I'll be up in a minute, Xem."
Xemerius didn't seem very convinced, but he didn't say anything else and followed the blonde witch. Once he was out of sight, Minerva cuddled the beautiful ball gown close to her chest, and a small tear rolled down her cheek.
"Thank you, Daddy," she whispered. "Thank you so much."
. . .
"I would love to come here with you more often, if you don't mind that is," her mother whispered and looked hopeful and at the same time quite fearful at Harry and Hermione.
Harry only smiled at her happily. "These are your memories, Prof - Minerva," he corrected himself, making Arina laugh out loud. "You don't need to ask permission."
Arina watched her mother's green eyes light up and she sent a silent thank-you-prayer towards Merlin that she finally let down the walls she had so carefully built around her heart. Of course, the witch knew that her mother's life had been far from easy, but Arina also knew that her mother needed to be loved even more because of that.
"Besides," her niece added," we'd be delighted to have you with us. And maybe Professor Dumbledore can tag along next time as well."
The transfiguration mistress smirked. "I'm sure he would love that. Even though he might be more interested in figuring out how exactly this little mirror works more than anything at first."
"Well," Hermione grinned, "I'll gladly help him with that, Prof - Minerva."
Arina's heart happily skipped a beat when her mother put her arms around both Harry and Hermione, who in return snuggled even closer at her.
Even though she had had her doubts, and guilt had been a very constant companion throughout the years, the blue-eyed witch was now beyond grateful that Lily's choice in making her Harry's godmother had not been quite in vain after all. And Arina would move heaven and earth to make up for the years she missed with the two young adults.
Ready-ing herself for what seemed to be the last memory, she watched the by now light-red waves set the surroundings for the next scene.
. . .
City of London | Waterloo Road | Apartment 7 | 1947
41-year-old Albus Dumbledore appeared out of nowhere within the streets of London. Pulling his dark blue travelling coat closer, he made his way through the heavy rain until he reached his desired destination.
G. M. Reynolds – Private Magical Investigations
He took a deep breath to steady himself, before he knocked on the door 4 times. The door then started to glimmer in a deep shade of purple, and the auburn-haired wizard stepped right through.
After ascending 2 flights of stairs, the wizard stepped into a nicely furnished office. Books were flying around all over the place, pens writing on papers, magnifying glasses moving over maps that were hung up on the walls. Right in the middle of the mess, at a small mahogany desk, was sitting a small brown-haired woman. Her hazel eyes fixed upon some file she was reading.
After some minutes – when she still hadn't noticed him — Albus Dumbledore carefully cleared his thoughts, which finally got her attention.
Her head jerked up, and a small blush coloured her cheeks upon noticing the visitor.
"Oh dear, I do apologise," she said and got up quickly to round her desk and shake his hand. "Have you been standing there long?" she asked, and ducked away from a book that almost missed her head.
Albus chuckled. "Don't worry. I'll survive."
The blush on her face deepened and she simply gestured towards the desk. She quickly removed the load of books that had been piled up on the chair in front of it so the wizard was able to sit down.
"Please excuse the mess. We were going through some changes recently and well… you can see how it's going."
The wizard smirked. "Yeah, I can see that."
Fishing her glasses from out of the nearest drawer, she sat up straighter in her chair and put her hands on her desk.
"So, what can I do for you, Mr. Dumbledore?"
Surprised, Albus raised an eyebrow. "You know who I am?"
The witch mirrored his actions, albeit a small smile appeared on her face as well. She snachted a magazine – the latest edition of witch weekly – out of the air and put it in front of him.
"I daresay you are quite the public figure after your defeating Grindelwald, Mr. Dumbledore. You've been all over the papers for the last three years, Sir."
The wizard sighed and turned the front page – including a picture of him that was clearly avoiding the press – around. "I try not to think about that, to be honest."
The brown-haired witch nodded. " Fair enough. So what can I do for you?"
Albus shifted a little uncomfortable on his seat and his blue eyes wandered around the office space.
"I was hoping to make an appointment with George Reynolds. People kept telling me that he is THE person to consult when it comes to magical investigations."
The witch smiled proudly. "So far, we haven't disappointed our customers."
Albus nodded. "That's why I am here. Would you be so kind and let Mr. Reynolds know that I was here?" he asked, and put his card on the desk in front of her. "I will make another appointment whenever it suits him."
The witch grinned even brighter now. "I don't think that is necessary, Mr. Dumbledore. Why don't you stay and tell me what you need, hmm?"
The wizard shifted slightly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, I don't want to offend you, but I'd prefer talking to him personally - "
"To her."
Blue eyes looked confused. "Excuse me?"
Hazel-coloured eyes twinkled. "You'd prefer talking to HER personally," she said, and extended her hand. "If I may introduce myself: Georgina Reynolds. Private Magical Investigator. At your service."
Albus' eyes widened in surprise and it was his turn to blush a bright crimson. "Oh, I do apologise. I thought George. . . "
The witch only winked. "Don't worry, you're not the first to mistake me for my father. I only recently took over his business. But I can assure you, I have worked with him for a long time and I know what I'm doing. So, let me ask again. How may I help you, Mr. Dumbledore? I am quite surprised to see such a famous figure in my office, to be honest."
The auburn-haired wizard played with his hands nervously. "As it is, they say you are the best."
"I am," Georgina Reynolds confirmed and offered him a reassuring and at the same time proud smile.
Albus nodded, and returned the smile. "Well then, I need your help finding someone. Someone I once loved. Her name was Esmeralda."
. . .
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words: 10,492
* This chapter is dedicated to my dad (although he'll probably never read it). I'm so grateful to still have you in my life *
And to you, my faithful readers, I once again thank you for your continued support! I love your reviews so much! Thank you all so much!
As a little gift to you, I have uploaded a document (on google docs) with (so far only 2) pictures of gowns and dresses I used as inspiration for the dresses / gowns / etc. I used in the story. You'll find the link on my profile if you want to check it out :)
All the best, and until next time! xoxo