Author's Notes: It's been what, two months? Sorry for the wait. I started writing this in August, got sidetracked because of school, and then got a horrible case of writer's block. Finally we have the infamous 'guess who's coming to dinner' chapter =).

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize from Harry Potter.

Part I: Chapter Eight

It was early Thursday afternoon, and Minerva had recruited her two elder children to help with the cooking. The three moved around the kitchen, preparing for the arrival of Bartholomew and Bathilda.

“Chip the glasses and crack the plates,” Jacob muttered.

Alice looked up from the cutting board and grinned, “Blunt the knives and bend the forks.”

“That's what Bilbo Baggins hates,” Minerva finished, smiling, “If only your father was here for this. He always loved that book.”

Alice laughed, “Remind me again, Mum, how did he and Katherine get out of cooking?”

“He wanted to take the three of you out today, despite the fact that we have dinner guests tonight,” Minerva replied, “It’s lucky the two of you get your sense of schedule from me and not him. He wanted to take all of you, but it was eleven o’clock and Katherine was the only one up, so that was that. What were you two doing up so late?”

“Reading,” Jacob and Alice replied simultaneously.

“Well, I can’t disapprove of that, I suppose,” said Minerva, “Pass me the salt, Jacob.”

“What time are Bathilda and Bartholomew arriving at?” Jacob asked his mother as he gave her the salt.

“Six,” Minerva replied.

After their work in the kitchen was done, Minerva had retreated to the library and the two older children had gone to their rooms. Albus and Katherine had not yet arrived home. After awhile, Alice exited her room and entered Jacob’s.

“Are you ready for tonight?” she asked, sitting down on his bed.

Jacob looked up from the notebook that he had been writing in, “I think so.”

Alice nodded, “That’s good. I suppose I am too, more or less, but I don’t know, Jacob. I still think that Dad inviting them is a nice idea, but I guess what I feel now is that I liked it better in theory. I mean, Bartholomew wanted to curse me and make my life miserable. Won’t it be awkward for us to be just sitting there, him asking me to pass the pumpkin soup?”

“Ah, the elephant in the room,” Jacob said, “Well…I suppose we could either -”

“We?” Alice interjected, “So you feel the same way?”

Jacob nodded, “We could either try to address it - the fact that he tried to hurt our family the way he did - head on, or we could find other things to talk about.”

“It’s probably too early to talk about it so directly. Small talk seems to be the better bet,” Alice replied, “Let’s hope for the best.”

Later that evening, Katherine set the diving room table. After a few moments, she gave it a final glance. Plates, napkins, knives, forks, glasses. Everything was in its place, and her job was done. She looked at the clock. 5:55. They would be here soon.

Katherine remembered the day when she had told Zoey who her family was having as dinner guests.

Zoey had looked surprised, “Bartholomew - isn’t he the one who tried to curse you?”

Katherine had nodded, “Yep.”

Zoey had shook her head, “Your father’s batty - batty in the most intelligent and noble way possible, of course.”

Katherine had smiled, “It’s kind of a shame they’re all not like him. So accepting, and everything.”

She walked into the living room and sat down. She felt a little nervous; Bartholomew wasn’t an evil man if her father trusted him, but he had, after all, tried to curse her.

Katherine knew that nothing like that would happen tonight, but she couldn’t help but feel a little worried.

Jacob entered the room and sat down next to her. Before either of the siblings could say anything to the other, the doorbell rang. Alice entered the room right at that moment.

“You should be the one to answer that, Alice,” Jacob said.

“Me? Why me?” Alice hissed, looking nervous, “You’re such a people person, Jacob, maybe you should get it.”

“I would’ve aveda kedevra’d him if Dad hadn’t stopped me. If I go to welcome him, he’d probably run away,” Jacob whispered shakily, “And Katherine shouldn’t get have to get it, because she was the one he cursed.”

Katherine nodded vigorously, looking just as nervous as her older sister.

“That,” Jacob concluded, “leaves you.”

“And Alice, if we don’t answer it soon, Mum will probably hex us into next week,” Katherine said.

“Alright,” the eldest Dumbledore child said as she made her way to the front, “But you two owe me.”

“Hi,” Alice greeted Bartholomew and Bathilda as she opened the front door, “Bartholomew, I don’t know if you remember me, and Bathilda, I haven’t had the pleasure of making your acquaintance yet, so I’m Alice. Come on in.”

“Alice,” Bathilda said as she stepped inside, “That’s a pretty name, dearie. Are you Albus’ daughter?”

“I am,” Alice replied, “His elder one, anyway. This is my sister, Katherine. And there’s our brother, Jacob.”

“Hi,” Katherine said.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Jacob said as he shook Bathilda’s hand.

“Hi Bartholomew,” Alice said lightly.

“H-hello,” he said nervously.

Minerva stepped into the room, “Hello Bartholomew, Bathilda. I’m glad the two of you could make it.”

“And we are glad to be here, Miss McGonagall,” Bathilda said brightly, “Tell me, are you still apprenticing under Professor Dumbledore?”

Minerva looked surprised, “No; it’s been some years. I’m actually teaching transfiguration now.”

“Are you?” Bathilda gave her a grin, “Good for you, dearie, good for you.”

“I must apologize for not coming out sooner - my dear wife has been lecturing me about my absentmindedness,“ Albus greeted the guests, “How are you doing, Bartholomew?”

“I’m okay,” he replied, “And you? How are you?”

“I am doing very well indeed,” Albus said, “now that you and your aunt have arrived.”

“We can’t thank you enough for-for inviting us,” Bartholomew stuttered in reply.

Albus smiled, “It is our pleasure.”

Alice nodded. Shortly after that, the seven people sat around the dining room table.

“Are you Albus’ daughter?” Bathilda suddenly asked Alice.

Alice looked surprised and nodded.

“Excuse my aunt’s memory - it isn’t what it once was,” Bartholomew apologized in a loud whisper. The Dumbledores nodded.

Bathilda looked intently at Katherine.

“Ariana,” she pronounced. Alice raised an eyebrow.

“No, no, Aunt Bathilda,” Bartholomew corrected quickly, “That’s Katherine.”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” Bathilda told Katherine, “You look very much like a girl I used to know.”

Katherine smiled at Bathilda, “So I’m told.”

“She was such a sweet little thing, Ariana was,” Bathilda continued.

“She was,” Albus agreed. Bartholomew nodded.

“Are you three enrolled in school?” Bathilda asked Jacob, Alice, and Katherine.

“We are,” Jacob said.

“Hogwarts?” Bartholomew asked.

Alice nodded, “We’re out for the summer, though.”

“If you’re anything like your father, you’re little geniuses,” Bathilda said, “My, both he and Gellert were brilliant. Albus, are you still teaching transfiguration? I remember when you took that post.”

“I’m not, but Minerva is,” Albus replied.

“Albus is headmaster,” added Minerva.

Bartholomew smiled shyly, “He’s renowned.”

Albus chucked, “You flatter me, friend.”

“It doesn’t surprise me,” Bathilda said in response to Bartholomew’s comment. She looked at Jacob and his sisters, “Growing up, your father was incredibly gifted. Between him and Gellert, Godric’s Hollow saw so much talent during those years.”

Albus blushed.

“Of course,” Bathilda continued, “Those two did get into their fair share of mischief. Teenage boys do that.”

Katherine and Alice laughed.

“What did they do?” Alice asked Bathilda.

Minerva smiled, “Please Bathilda, no stories tonight. I don’t need any of my three getting ideas.

Bathilda nodded knowingly.

The group had finished eating. Albus, Katherine, and Alice were tidying up in the kitchen, and Minerva and Bathilda were looking at something in the library. Bartholomew and Jacob had moved into the living room.

“Now, you like to write, don’t you?” Bartholomew asked him.

Jacob nodded, “I do.”

“You should talk to my aunt,” Bartholomew said, “Made a career out of it. History books, she wrote.”

Jacob smiled.

The two were quiet or a few moments. Then, Jacob spoke up.

“I wanted to apologize,” he began, “That day, when you…I’m sorry I tried to hex you, the way I did.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bartholomew told him, “My mistakes were much, much bigger than yours. I’m very sorry myself.”

After some time had passed, Bartholomew glanced at the grandfather clock that sat in the corner of the Dumbledores’ living room. It was nine o’clock. He and Bathilda should leave sometime soon.

He reflected on the night. It had been a very pleasant one - the Dumbledores were such nice people, and Minerva’s cooking had been excellent. He felt the familiar wave of guilt wash over him. He wished he hadn’t listened to Gellert; he wished he hadn’t done what he had done.

He stood up, “Thank you for your hospitality. We should be going.”

Everyone said their farewells.

“Goodbye, Ariana,” Bathilda addressed Katherine.

Albus walked with them as they stepped outside.

“Albus,” Bartholomew said with a note of desperation in his voice, “Tell them I’m sorry.”

Albus nodded, “I will, Bartholomew. I will.”

“We must get together soon,” Bathilda said with a smile, “Goodbye, Albus Dumbledore.”

“Have a pleasant evening Bathilda, Bartholomew,” Albus replied.

“Goodbye,” Bartholomew said, “And thank you.”

Alice sat at the desk in her bedroom, writing a letter.

Dear Duke,

You wanted me to send you an owl when it was over, so here you are. It actually wasn’t that bad - Bathilda kept calling Katherine Ariana, but other than that, nothing really happened. There weren’t nearly as many awkward silences as I had expected; it was almost pleasant.

I miss you. I hope everything with your family is alright. OWL results ought to be in soon - we’ll see who won our potions bet!

Love,

Alice

Later that night, when the house was quiet, Minerva looked at her husband. He was next to her in bed, wholly absorbed in a book. She studied him, stared at the subtle details of the face that she knew so well. She remembered him through the years. It seemed as if he had been in her life for the longest time.

Albus smiled to himself. Unbeknownst to his wife, he was aware of her eyes on him. Minerva was always so aware; times like this when she lost her focus were not a common occurrence. He studied her as she studied him, and they stayed like that for awhile.