Chapter Five
Chapter Five: October 1990
Minerva awoke to Albus' tears landing softly on her hair.
"Al?" she murmured sleepily. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, drat," Albus whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"I don't care about being woken up," Minerva said, slightly more awake. "What has you so upset?"
"It's been nine years," he breathed. "Nine years since we've lost them."
"Of course." Minerva shut her eyes again. Her stomach clenched as reality took over her dream-like state. "I've been avoiding thinking about it all week."
"I'm sorry to wake you up to the thought."
"Nonsense. I would have remembered instantly had I woken up naturally." She snuggled into his chest. "We'll get through this. We always do."
"It's still a miserable day," Albus replied softly.
"That's true." Minerva shuddered. "I never cared much for Halloween before, but now I hate it. I wish we could stay in bed all day."
Albus ran his fingers over her scalp and down her neck. "I don't know what that would solve, my dear."
"It wouldn't solve anything, but it would mean we could sit in our bed and grieve together. We could be parents to our own children instead of the hundreds of children that live within the castle walls."
"You love—"
"Yes, I know. I love being a teacher, and I care greatly for many of my students. However, I cannot claim to love them like I love my own child." Minerva poked his side. "Or your child."
Albus smiled sadly. "We will handle this day as we always do. With grace and gravity."
"Al?" she asked tentatively. "Could we have dinner in our rooms tonight? Just us?"
"I think that is a capital idea. We can look over that scrapbook the girls gave you and spend some time reminiscing. And remember: next year, we'll have Harry here with us."
"Won't that be nice," Minerva murmured. "We can watch him—watch over him. We can see how he handles today."
Albus sighed. "I can't imagine what today is like for him."
"Yes, you can, Al. It's just like it is for us." She peered at her husband, whose face was slightly blurry without her spectacles. "We all mourn, even if Harry mourns what he never knew, and we mourn what could have been."
"Astute as always, my dear."
"How long have you been awake, Al?" Minerva asked quietly. She stroked his chest. "You should get some sleep."
"I can't," Albus murmured. "I really can't."
"Why?"
"It's nothing."
Albus' tone was one of odd discomfort, and Minerva didn't like hearing it. "Al, please. I can handle it."
"How can you handle it when I can't?" A tear fell off his eyelashes. "I can't handle it, Min. I can't ask you to take this on."
Minerva sat up. "You're frightening me, Al. What's going on?" She gripped his hands tightly. "I am your wife. I want to hear about this, all right?"
She waited patiently as he seemed to swallow over and over.
"I have nightmares," Albus uttered, his voice barely a whisper. "Bad nightmares, awful night terrors of sorts. I suffered from them as a child, and they seem to reappear during times of stress: when my father went to Azkaban, when my mother died, after Ariana died, when I thought I had lost you forever...and now, they've appeared every October for the past nine years."
"Al..."
"No pity, please."
"This isn't pity. This is empathy." Minerva searched his eyes. "Will you tell me what the nightmares are about?"
"It would be easier to tell you what they aren't about," Albus muttered bitterly.
"Al." Minerva's tone was one she usually took with troublemaking third-years. "I'm not going to spill your secrets to the world, or shout them from the Astronomy Tower. I am your wife. I want to hear what's troubling you."
She extended one arm, and Albus fell into her embrace, preferring to hide his face against her chest instead of looking at his beloved.
"They start with Athena," Albus mumbled. "It's always Athena. She's young—perhaps seven or eight? She blames me for the loss of her mother. Then, the scene morphs. Athena is still there, but older now, and as Lily. She's there with Ariana. They—there's something else—it's—"
"It's all right, Al," Minerva soothed as Albus' entire body seemed to shake. "Al—"
"There are so many wands that appear out of nowhere," he breathed. "They strike Ariana down, and then she waits there like a ghost. She waits for Lily, and I see Tom—the Tom I never expelled, even when I had reason to do so. The Tom I didn't kill when I could have. The Tom I didn't pursue earlier—just like I didn't do what I should have about Gellert.
"And before I can think to do anything, it becomes Harry," Albus sobbed. "My dear grandson, who I sent to live with his aunt. He's older, and he blames me entirely for his childhood. Then you appear and blame me, too. You wish that you had never married me. You wish you had never met me."
"I would never wish that." She kissed the top of his head. "I love you."
"But you blame me. As you should—as should everyone that I've ever cared about." Albus sighed heavily. "Normally, I am able to move past these feelings, but the month of October is my own personal hell. It has been since we lost our children."
"I would try to tell you that your nightmares aren't real, but I know that doesn't help keep them away in the first place. Have you tried a sleeping draught?"
Albus squirmed. "I tried once about, oh, four years ago. One wasn't enough, so then I took another dose, and then another..."
Minerva narrowed her eyes as she searched for a memory. "Four years ago—the week after my birthday—you couldn't get out of bed until half past five in the evening. You claimed you had a stomach bug. That wasn't the case?"
"To be fair, my stomach was queasy, but it was caused by the potions. That's why you didn't feel quite right, either."
"That's why you're always so tired in October," Minerva muttered. It all made sense to her now, how her husband seemed to be more fatigued and drawn. She had simply chalked it up to the start of the year taking its toll—along with the emotions that the autumn brought with it. "I'll admit to sharing your fatigue, but your nightmares and fear...I haven't felt any of that. How have you kept this from me?"
"I've been working on muting our bond," Albus admitted tearfully. "I've been in so much pain—and so tired. I couldn't have you feel it, too. Not to the extent I feel it, and certainly not since I know how much pain I've caused you to begin with."
Minerva exhaled a long, slow breath. "Albus, you can't just alter something that affects both of us, even if you believe it to be for my benefit."
"I don't know that I have altered anything, per se. I've simply used the opportunity to learn a new skill."
She quirked her brow. "I'd love to know how you've been accomplishing this."
"It's been touch and go. After all, I've had nine years to practice." Albus sighed. "I pored over a lot of the research that Nicolas and I have done over the years, and I also consulted with Poppy about the research she has conducted with Perenelle."
Minerva felt a flare of indignation rise within her. "Poppy knew you were doing this?"
"No," Albus said quickly, shaking his head, "no, she just knew I wanted to see the research."
"She must have wondered why," Minerva mumbled.
"Perhaps," Albus conceded, "but she never mentioned anything to me. And if she had been worried, Poppy would have told you. Her loyalty is to you, not to me."
"I wouldn't say that," Minerva replied, smiling slightly. "After all, you saved her wife's life."
Albus smiled and tilted his head. "You are her best friend."
"I am—which is why I do believe she'd tell me if I needed to know something. But Albus?" Minerva looked at him earnestly. "I wish that you'd be the one to tell me. I am here to help you through this. I am fine waking up every night to a nightmare if it means you're being honest with me."
"Then, in all honesty, my dear, would you mind Summoning me a Pepper-Up potion?" Albus winced. "I am exhausted from a month of very little sleep, and I do not believe I will have the fortitude to make it through the day without some assistance."
Minerva Summoned the potion from her bedroom and handed it to him. "You won't be without assistance. You'll have me."
He kissed her quickly. "I know."
As he drank the Pepper-Up potion and settled against her chest once more, Minerva was reminded why she could never hate Albus for what he had done to Harry.
He hated himself enough for the both of them.
Despite Minerva's affection for Molly Weasley, she didn't enjoy how the latter's children made her first-period class on Wednesdays a living hell.
"Messers Weasley—stop what you are doing this instant!" Minerva shouted. "You know better than to transfigure someone else's transfiguration!"
The Weasley twins were in their second year at Hogwarts. Minerva had quickly discovered that, while intelligent, Fred and George Weasley caused more trouble than any other group of students she had ever taught.
"We didn't mean to harm anyone, Professor," George said, smiling brightly. "We just thought—"
"—it would be fun to see if the rat could be a glass and a rat at the same time," Fred finished.
"While I appreciate the curiosity, Transfiguration is an incredibly complex subject. Interfering with someone else's spell work is always a bad idea—especially when you're not adept at the spell yourself." Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, plus detention tonight with me." She quickly remembered her plans to hibernate with Albus for the evening. "On second thought, no detention, boys." As their faces lit up, she added sternly, "But I will be speaking with your mother."
"Not again," Fred muttered. "She's gonna kill us."
Oh, yes, Minerva thought as she moved to check on another student's work, Molly will be furious.
"Aberforth?" Albus' eyebrows crinkled in confusion at the sight of his brother standing in the gargoyle entryway into his office. "What are you doing here? Is everything all right?"
With the help of Arabella and Minerva, the brothers had come to an uneasy détente.
Even still, Albus didn't expect Aberforth to start paying him unexpected social calls.
"I wanted to..." Aberforth trailed off, clearly off-put by the number of interested portraits looking his way. "Is there anywhere we can speak privately?"
Albus nodded. "Of course. Follow me, and we'll go to my private quarters." Albus stood from his chair and walked through the door connecting his office to his rooms. "Feel free to make yourself at home."
"These quarters don't look very lived-in," Aberforth commented as he peered around the room.
"Minerva and I tend to make our home in her personal quarters. It's easier, in case a student needs her. I did connect the rooms, though, for appearances' sake," Albus added, sitting in a chair. "Would you like some tea?"
Aberforth hesitated. "Sure."
After the tea had been poured, Albus asked again, "Is there a reason for your visit? This is a nice surprise, but you don't often visit me on a random afternoon."
"Yes, there is a reason." Aberforth averted his brother's eyes. "Today's not that random, is it, and we both know why. I wanted to see how you were getting on, Albus."
Albus raised his eyebrows. "Truly?"
Aberforth shifted uncomfortably. "Yes. It has occurred to me that even if I blamed you for our...mutual loss, you have suffered your own losses. And truthfully, the loss of Lily is also my loss, even if I only met the second iteration of her once."
Albus exhaled slowly. For a moment, he had been concerned that Minerva had spoken to Aberforth about his nightmares.
He trusted his wife, but he would always be paranoid when it came to his brother.
"I am...managing," Albus answered truthfully. "This is a very hard day for me—for both Minerva and me, as I'm sure you can understand."
Aberforth scoffed. "Of course I can. How's Minerva?"
Albus smiled sadly. "Teaching, at the minute. She seemed calm but resigned this morning. We're planning on having dinner together in our rooms."
"I'm glad you're letting yourself grieve," Aberforth said quietly. "It's worse when you don't let yourself feel it." He met his brother's eyes. "As I'm sure you know."
"As we both know, unfortunately."
"Please tell Minerva I send my condolences."
"She'll appreciate that very much. In fact, she'd love it if we could get together with you and Arabella for the holidays this year." Albus smiled softly. "Minerva hopes that, since we bridged our divide, we can spend some more time together."
"Arabella would like that as well. Actually, speaking of Arabella..." Aberforth reddened. "I didn't come here to talk about Arabella, but now that I'm here..."
Albus laughed gently. "Say whatever you want, Abe. I doubt it'll be the nastiest exchange we've ever had."
"Too true," Aberforth muttered. Clearing his throat, he said, "I haven't told Arabella about Lily, but with your blessing, I might like to explain the situation. Not all of it, mind you—she wouldn't believe the whole time-travel story. But I don't like keeping secrets from her, and I want her to know that Harry is my great-nephew. She'd believe it, too, since Ara believes you and Minerva have been married for eons." Aberforth narrowed his eyes. "Which you have been."
Albus paused. "I have no qualms about you telling her, but please let me speak with Minerva first. She might want input into how you handle telling Arabella that while Harry is our grandchild, we do not share a child."
"Fine, fine." Aberforth waved his hand. "Thank you."
"Arabella means a lot to you, doesn't she?"
"Yeah," Aberforth admitted. "I was wondering if you'd mind if I gave her Mum's ring."
Albus' eyes widened in surprise. "No, I wouldn't mind at all. It's as much yours as it is mine, and Minerva already has a ring."
Aberforth hesitated. "You're sure? You don't want to save it for Harry's future spouse?"
Albus laughed, but the sound was hollow. "I don't know if I can ever tell Harry who I am, Abe. Give it to Arabella with my blessing."
"You and your secrets," Aberforth muttered, but, for the first time in a long time, there was no malice in his words. "I appreciate it."
"Of course. I am happy for you, Abe. Truly."
"Oh, can you withhold this from Minerva for now? I think Arabella will want to tell her. Provided she says yes, of course."
Albus smiled. "She's stuck with you this long. I'm sure she'll say yes—and I'll let Arabella tell Min. I don't want to steal any thunder from the bride-to-be."
"Thanks for coming, Molly." Minerva smiled invitingly at the younger woman and gave her a light hug as she exited the fireplace. "I know it's short notice."
"It's okay, I get it. The twins don't usually give me much notice, either." Molly hesitated. "I'm sorry, but I needed to bring Ron and Ginny. Arthur is at work, and you're usually my sitter."
Minerva smiled as Molly's two youngest tumbled out of the Floo behind their mother. "It's no problem at all, Molly. Hello, you two," she added, her eyes twinkling at the two youngest Weasleys.
"Aunt Minerva," Ron said, nodding. "Why are we here?"
"I need to speak with your mother for a moment," Minerva replied kindly. "Why don't you two go into my quarters and play?"
"Min..."
"Jilly will watch them," Minerva reassured Molly. "She'll ensure they don't get into any trouble."
Molly snorted and sank into a chair as Ron and Ginny ran into Minerva's living room. "If only I could say the same about my twins."
Minerva tried but failed to suppress a smile. "They are quite the troublemakers."
"What did they do this time?" Molly asked warily. "It's not often that you summon me to Hogwarts."
"No, I suppose it's not," Minerva said, sighing. "But, after their stunt today, I did warn them that you'd be hearing from me. I thought that I might as well get a visit with a good friend out of the bargain."
"What did they do?" Molly repeated.
Minerva recounted the morning's events. "They are smart boys, Molly, truly. They have a wonderful curiosity, and they perform well on all of their assessments. We just need Fred and George to tone back the rule-breaking."
"I'm so sorry, Minerva." Molly blushed. "I'm so embarrassed."
"There's no reason for you to be embarrassed. Lots of troublemakers walk these halls." Minerva bit her lip as she thought about her first husband, Aidan, and then Dalton. She blinked away the sudden wetness that had come over her eyes. "I know better than most."
Molly eyed her former professor carefully. "Did you give the boys detention?"
"No, I decided to give them a break from detention. I was going to, but..." Minerva trailed off. Tears sprung to her eyes as she thought about why she had chosen not to assign the twins to detention later that night.
"Min...Minerva?" Molly asked gently. "What's going on? That's the second time your eyes have misted over."
Minerva cleared her throat. "This time of year leaves me rather melancholy, that's all. Nothing to trouble you with, dear."
"Minerva, something is clearly..." Molly gasped and raised her hand to her mouth. "Did you lose someone today, Min?"
The question was asked so kindly that Minerva couldn't help the tears that ran down her face.
Her answer was quiet. "Yes, Molly. I did."
Molly thought for a moment. "Well, you told me that your son was Dalton Scrimgeour, and he died in the summer, so it can't be him."
Minerva said nothing. She might have finally gathered the courage to tell Molly half the truth, but that's just what it was—a half-truth.
"Do you mean you're sad about Frank and Alice Longbottom?" Molly asked gently, kindly choosing not to remark on Minerva's silence. "You've mentioned that you were good friends with Augusta—I can imagine you spent a good amount of time with Frank and Alice. They were attacked around this time of the year."
Minerva smiled softly. "Your deduction skills are admirable, but no, I'm not sad about Frank and Alice. Although," she added, "that situation is horrible, and Augusta and I keep in touch, on occasion. She's raising her grandson—Neville will be attending Hogwarts next fall with Ronald."
"And Harry Potter," Molly mentioned. "Wouldn't it be something if Ron ended up friends with the Harry Potter?"
Minerva couldn't prevent herself from flinching.
Molly misunderstood her former professor's horror. "Obviously, he's just a boy, Minerva—I just think that Ron's Hogwarts years will be a lot more eventful with Harry Potter around."
Minerva gave a morose chuckle. "Well, that's likely true."
"Oh," Molly uttered softly. "You're sad about Lily and James. You and Albus were very close to them, weren't you?"
Minerva looked at the caring face of Molly Weasley and found that she didn't have the wherewithal to continue lying. "Yes, Albus and I were extremely close to James and Lily. Very, very close."
"You're allowed to be sad, Minerva." Molly patted her friend's hand. "In fact, I'm glad that the twins acted up today. You seem to need an excuse to see a friend. I just wish you'd tell me what has you so upset. It's clearly more than just Lily and James, but I can't put my finger on it."
"I can't talk about it," Minerva said, laughing hollowly. "If I tell you, you'll realize I'm nothing more than a liar."
"I highly doubt that."
"Whichever way you slice it, I am a liar by omission, my girl."
"I don't count that as a lie," Molly replied, her voice quiet. "Often, so-called lies by omission are the ones we tell—or rather, don't tell—in order to protect ourselves or someone else."
"That's very wise of you, Molly," Minerva responded weakly.
"So, will you tell me? I hope you know by now that I will keep your secrets. And," Molly added, "whatever you have to tell me won't change my opinion of you. Not in the least."
"It's complicated," Minerva admitted finally. With a great, shuddering sigh, Minerva told Molly the story of her life. To her surprise, she made it through with only a few tears.
"Oh, my Lord," Molly muttered at the end of the tale. "Minerva, you've gone through so much."
"No one makes it to my age without a few scars, dear."
"Even still!" Molly shuddered. "Min, you deserve much better than you got."
"Molly, life doesn't care much about what one deserves."
"That's true," the Weasley matriarch responded quietly. "That's quite true. But," she added, her eyes widening, "I can't believe you've been married to the Headmaster this entire time, and no one knew! And your kids ended up together—and your grandson is the Harry Potter!"
"If you call him 'the Harry Potter' one more time, Molly, I will lose it," Minerva said, chuckling. She permitted herself to smile. "I've had that conversation with Albus many a time. Our grandson will always be simply Harry to me."
"I wish you could raise him," Molly huffed. "It's not fair that you have to watch his other relatives bring him up. Lily and I weren't close, per se, but we talked a fair bit at Order meetings. I never got the impression that she loved her sister."
"Lily loved Petunia. It was her like that was in question."
"Even still, you loved Lily, and she loved you right back."
"Molly," Minerva warned. "Lily was not Athena. She did not love me."
Molly's eyes crinkled warmly. "She certainly loved you, Min. Lily wouldn't have let you into her life if she didn't—she wouldn't have let you grow so close to Harry." Molly sighed. "I hope you and Albus manage to muddle through today."
"We will. We're planning on having dinner tonight—just the two of us. I'll admit that Albus and I are frightfully bad at taking time to be by ourselves on days like today. Tonight should be a refreshing change of pace."
"Good. Now, we'll get out of your hair. I'll write a Howler to the twins tonight and have it arrive tomorrow with the morning post." Molly stood and, after some hesitancy, kissed Minerva's cheek. "Take care of yourself today. If you need anything, you know where I am."
Minerva nodded, ignoring the tear that slid down her cheek. "Thank you, dear."
After Molly had seen herself and her youngest children through the Floo, Minerva organized her desk and sent a note to Pomona, asking her to kindly watch over Gryffindor Tower for the evening.
Then, Minerva quietly fled to the safety of her private rooms.
Having said his goodbyes to Aberforth with nothing but kind wishes for his brother's upcoming proposal, Albus was looking forward to spending the night with his wife. He was making his way through his quarters to the secret passage that led to Minerva's rooms when a wave of despondency flowed through him.
"Oh, Min," Albus murmured, sighing. Opening the passage door, he found Minerva sprawled across the couch, sobbing. "My dearest, dearest, Tabby."
He sat beside her, and instantly, Minerva curled into his side and clutched his robes.
"Albus, I miss them," Minerva wept. "I finally told Molly the entire truth, and it just serves as another reminder that no one knows. I can't be Dalton's mother to anyone but our family. I'd like to be able to take the day off to mourn without making false excuses to Pomona."
"I'm sorry," Albus said, somewhat lamely. He knew it was his fault that Minerva had kept her child a secret, but he didn't particularly want to bring up his role in that decades-long hurt. "I know how hard this is."
"Of course you do," Minerva whispered, looking up at him. Albus had to stop himself from gasping at the unadulterated sorrow in her eyes. "At least we're in this together."
Albus was helpless as she burrowed herself into his chest again. An idea came to him, and he waited for her sobs to subside before he spoke.
"I have an idea," Albus said quietly once Minerva appeared to be only sniffling. "What if we went to visit their gravesites? The ones created for Lily and James, not the fake ones we set up for Athena and Dalton when they left their original timeline. We can take some time for ourselves. I gather you already asked Pomona to look after your house?"
Minerva nodded. "I love that plan, Albus. It seems much more fitting than looking through the scrapbook. More reverent, perhaps."
"Give me a moment to clear it with Filius, then," Albus murmured. "I'll pop into his office."
He rose, kissed his wife's forehead, and Flooed to Filius' office.
"Filius?" Albus called as he stepped away from the fireplace.
"Well, this is certainly a surprise!" Filius said, slipping off his chair. "What can I do for you, Albus?"
"Would it be all right with you if I passed the wards on to you this evening and you kept them until breakfast?" Albus asked quickly, getting straight to the point. "Minerva and I need to leave the grounds, and I'm not sure when we'll be back. Pomona has already consented to watch Gryffindor tower in Minerva's absence."
"Of course, Albus." Filius frowned. "Take all the time you need. I can only imagine what today is like for both of you."
Albus stood up taller, slightly worried about what Filius knew. Minerva and Albus had told Filius about Dalton and Athena whilst they were at school, but that was the extent of Filius' knowledge.
Or so Albus had thought. "Filius?"
The small man sighed. "Yes?"
"What do you mean, what today is like?"
"I won't admit to knowing what I don't know," Filius replied, "but I have my suspicions. And if my suspicions are correct, my friend, then you and Minerva are more than deserving of taking the night off. I won't summon you back unless the castle is falling about our feet."
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Albus extended his hand and smiled warmly. "Thank you very much, Filius."
Quickly, Albus returned to Minerva's quarters and was surprised to see her already dressed in her travelling cloak. "Filius has no objection."
"I thought that might be the case. Here," Minerva said, extending her arm and handing Albus his own cloak. She patted her pocket. "I've packed some biscuits and warm tea in case it gets cold."
Albus kissed her cheek. "Very good plan, my dear."
He knew this excursion was his idea, but Albus wasn't particularly looking forward to standing out in the cold for a long period of time. All he wanted was Minerva to feel a sense of emotional release—healing emotional release—and he knew she wouldn't get that at the castle.
Minerva clutched Albus tightly as he Apparated them to the Hogwarts' front gates, and then to the graveyard in Godric's Hollow.
"Are you all right?" Albus whispered. Minerva was always so sensitive to the double feeling of Apparition that occurred when she and Albus Apparated together.
"I'll manage," Minerva croaked. She withdrew from his embrace and took his arm. "Come, let's walk."
They walked silently until they stood before the graves that had Lily and James Potter etched onto them.
"I know you hate it here," Minerva murmured into his ear. "Thank you for suggesting this."
"I may not love Godric's Hollow, but this is where our children are." Albus squeezed Minerva's arm. "I'd never let anything prevent me from visiting them."
Minerva looked down at the graves and gasped. "Albus, look!"
There was a wreath of poppies sitting on the ground, resting between the two stones.
Albus knelt down and smiled. "There's a note here: 'From your aunties with love, R+P.' We know who that's from."
Not for the first time, Minerva felt her heart bloom in appreciation for her friends. "They're wonderful people."
"They are," Albus agreed. He stood. "We should spend some time with them this coming weekend, if all our duties allow. We can have a nice reminiscing session together."
"That would be nice," Minerva whispered. She withdrew her wand and murmured a spell Albus had never heard before.
"Minerva, what—"
"Watch," Minerva interrupted gently. She pointed her chin towards the stones where a smaller stone was growing beneath Poppy's wreath. "I created a stone for our first grandson, Aidan. It'll only be visible to those of us who knew of his existence, but we don't have anything to mark little Aidan's time with us, and I thought this was a nice touch."
Albus kissed her with a gentle passion. "I love you, my wife."
Minerva smiled, slipped her hand into his, and rested her head on his shoulder. "And I love you."
They stood there together, observing their children's graves, only leaving when the moonlight started to make its appearance.