Is This Possible?

As I awoke the next morning, I had no time to register my surroundings before dashing into the bathroom and vomiting. As I sank to the cold tile floor, I realised that I was back at McGonagall Manor – and no longer with Albus and Penelope. As I looked out the window in the bathroom, I noticed that there was snow on the ground. When I had left, it was late August – returning to my own time must have taken much longer than changing times to begin with.

“Twindy!” I called, and he appeared with a sharp crack.

“Yes, Mistress Minerva?” he asked.

“What is the date?”

“It is the 29th of November, Mistress McGonagall. Would the Mistress be wanting any breakfast?” Twindy asked.

I sat down on the bed, dizzy at the implication that I had lost three months of my life travelling back through time. “Yes, please, Twindy. Some Belgian waffles with lemon, scrambled eggs, sausage, and bacon. And hot chocolate to drink.”

As he disappeared again, I thought over what I had just ordered. I never was fond of Belgian waffles, least of all with lemon! But the words just seemed to fall out of my mouth. I knew it was one of Albus’s favourite breakfasts – maybe I was just lonely for him.

I stood up from my bed, wincing as I put my weight on my swollen feet. Swollen feet? I thought to myself. As I stood in front of my wardrobe, attempting to change into a Muggle dress for the day, I happened to look down at my stomach. It seemed larger, but I couldn’t really tell from this angle. Once again feeling the need to vomit, I barely made it to the bathroom in time. By the time I emerged, my breakfast had arrived and was sitting on my window seat. I wrapped a bathrobe around myself and sat down to enjoy my breakfast – which, surprisingly, I did. It was odd, really, for I had never liked hot chocolate in the mornings either – I had always found it too sweet.

Resuming my dressing for the day, I attempted to slip into my favourite light-blue dress. However, I could not for the life of me get the buttons done up in the back. Suddenly piecing together the bits of everyday life which had changed. Cravings for certain foods, vomiting, swollen feet, weight gain…

I rushed over to the Floo, knelt down, and called into the fire, “Poppy Pomfrey!” As her kitchen appeared, I sighed in relief as she came into view.

“Minerva?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Poppy, can you come over to McGonagall Manor right away, please? I need you to do a diagnostic test on me,” I pleaded.

“I’ll be over in five minutes – let me gather my things,” she said. “Why are you at McGonagall Manor?”

“I’ll explain it all when you get here.”

“All right.”

As I removed my head from the fire, I had to put my hand along the wall to steady myself. I knew I couldn’t explain what had happened again – I’d have to use my parents’ Pensieve to show Poppy the memories. Walking downstairs, I entered my parents’ study. A few minutes of searching finally yielded their Pensieve, just as the bell was rung outside. Banishing the Pensieve to my bedroom, I made my way towards the front door to get Poppy.

“Hello, Minerva,” Poppy greeted me.

“Hello, Poppy, let’s go up to my room,” I said, taking her arm and leading her up the grand staircase.

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” she questioned.

“I can’t tell you, Poppy – I know you’ll never believe me. I’ve found my parents’ Pensieve, and I’ll show you what’s happened to me. Then I need you to tell me if I’m pregnant or not.”

Poppy stopped short at my last sentence. “Pregnant?” she squawked.

“Yes, Poppy, pregnant. Do you want to know what happened or not?” I demanded, impatient at how immature she was acting.

Poppy nodded and quickened her pace. As we reached my bedroom, I motioned for her to be seated as I began extracting the relevant memories.

“Okay, Poppy,” I said with far more confidence than I felt.

She stepped over and peered curiously into the swirling liquid. As we simultaneously emerged our faces in my memories, I began to cry. Albus, I thought. How I miss you. How I miss our daughter.

As the memories completed, we were returned to our bodies. Poppy stared at me, open-mouthed, and began to speak.

“Poppy, can you just find out if I’m pregnant or not? I’ll answer any questions you have after that,” I begged.

She nodded and murmured an incantation under her breath. I closed my eyes – I didn’t want to see the result yet.

“Oh, Minerva,” she sighed.

I couldn’t tell from her tone whether it was good news or bad news, so I slowly opened my eyes…