Hermione's face was wet with tears after seeing that scene. She looked at Professor McGonagall, surprised at how much of her biography she had never known.

Minerva's eyes seemed far away, but she turned to Hermione. "My daughter was born on the twenty-first of June, 1970--the first day of summer. It was the best day of my life." She paused. "Well, the second half of it, anyway," she added, with a small laugh.

"She was a beautiful baby, with dark, black hair and hazel eyes. We named her Alina Rose. Adam absolutely doted on her--and I admit, I did too--although of course, we were careful not to spoil her."

"That picture"--she pointed to the one Hermione had found--"was taken when she was eight months old, in the Englischer Garten in Munich. We were on holiday there."

With that, Minerva Summoned a box of Ginger Newts from her desk. When she opened it, though, there were no biscuits inside; instead, there was a small photo album.

They spent many minutes looking through it. There was Adam bending over a tired-looking, sweaty Minerva in a hospital bed, Alina in her arms, and another of her with the baby resting against her, obviously only a few minutes old. Various pictures of a baby on a blanket, oddly-dressed family and friends holding the child, and innumerable shots of the gummy little girl smiling at the camera. "You can't imagine the joy of a child after you've hoped for one for so long."

She let Hermione into her memory again.

Hermione saw her putting Alina in a cot, speaking happy baby talk to her.

Adam stood in the doorway of the room, and Minerva couldn't see him, but there was a look of great tenderness on his face. He withdrew as Minerva turned to leave, and caught her in his arms as she closed the door. He enveloped her in them and rocked her gently to and fro, and whispered in his wife's ear, "Right now, I am the luckiest man in the world." She turned, put her arms around his neck, and pulled herself close to his chest.

Minerva interrupted the memory. "It's times like that that you wish it could always be as wonderful--at least, I did. But of course, it can't, and that Fall, Voldemort came to power. It was terrifying, even though I had known about him for some time. Alina's arrival changed my outlook on everything--I was no longer worried just about me, or about Adam, but about her, and the kind of world she would live in." She pulled an old, faded, fragile-looking letter out from the back of the picture album. "I wrote this to Alina to explain why I chose to resist, in case anything should happen to me. I keep it now as a reminder to myself, when I think about all that was lost in the wars."

Dear Alina, [the letter said

I want to explain to you why I have decided to resist the Dark Lord, fully understanding the great dangers it involves. I am doing this because I believe it is the only way to ensure that truth, justice, courage, and good prevail in this world. Never have we faced a greater challenge, as a community, or as individuals, and now is the time to take a stand for what we believe in. I know that I may be unsuccessful, but cannot do otherwise without feeling that I have sacrificed the most important values for the ultimately ephemeral cause of my own survival. I love you, my daughter, more than life itself, and I want you to know that your mother tried to make the world that you would live in an acceptable one.

Love, Mummy

Seeing Hermione's eyes--glistening with tears--rise up from the letter, Minerva continued her narrative. "Adam and I were very active in the Order--he was a spy in the Ministry, I did the same kinds of tasks I did in the last war--analysis of information, that kind of thing. I was on a year of leave from school, because of the baby, who of course we didn't tell the students about. No-one ever does, it's good to have some kind of private sphere in a job like that. Well, we became very, very glad that we had kept our relationship a secret from our students then, because our work in the Resistance put us in fairly constant danger.

And through it all, Alina could make us smile even when nothing else possibly could."