Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters are product of J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot and a few minor characters.

A/N: Thank you! All the reviews made me so happy, and for the advice, Lena, I believe another thank you is owed, (I hope this chapter helps; the next one should explain a bit more). Sorry this chapter's a bit short. Chapter Three should be longer. Tell me what you think.

Chapter Two: Form A Hypothesis

Breakfast that same morning was a wreck. My and Professor Dumbledore's parents had some wonderful news that we would love to hear. . . . or so they thought in their happy-go-lucky minds. Oh, and here I smile!, they gave the news to us so slowly. . . ! Albus, I was supposed to call my professor from now forward. And his parents, I'm supposed to call by their given names: Charlisse and Michaelave; or, as Charlisse suggests. . . . . Mum and Dad. I had no idea what they meant by that, but I had a feeling Professor- Albus, I was corrected- did.

"What exactly are you implying?" I ask my mother impatiently.

"Minerva, hunny. . . . you and Albus are getting married! Isn't that so exciting!?"

I was shocked to say the least. That was not what I had been expecting. And furthermore, what Albus's parents went on to say. It was arranged, and we had no way of getting out of it. We were to marry over the summer.

"Brian, son, your mother and I don't have much longer left in life. We'd like to be able to have grandchildren before we die, Son, Minerva dearest. We're not getting any younger," explained his father.

"I have talked with my healer at St. Mungo's," continued his mother, "she has said that with my age, I shall not have but too much longer. She gives me a year at best. One year, Albus, one year! There are things I have yet to do in my long life: I want to be able to hold my first grandchild, to rock the little one to sleep!"

"Mother, we've been through this," stated Albus. He looked at me and saw how I looked so sad for his mother. "Don't," he told me, "She just wants to guilt us into marrying one another."

"Oh, there's no guilting to be done here, you're getting married," said my mother happily.

There was a lapse in conversation, so I began to ask, "And why now? Why us?"

"Well, you see," began my father, as if explaining to a pair of 3-year-old children the concept of how the stork delivers a baby to the mummy and daddy, "your mother and I have been friends with Charlisse and Michaelave all of our lives. It seemed almost coincidence that when we felt it time for you to wed that Albus's parents felt he needed a bit of a nudge in the right direction. It was only prudent the two of you marry right away. So, you see, Minerva, we just want the both of you to be happy."

"We are very happy the way we are!" exclaimed both Albus and I together. We met eyes and once again that morning, I blushed profusely.

"Suffice it to say, you have no say in the matter," said my mother with a tone of finality.

"I damn well do!-" I said exasperately. My mother gasped. "Yes, Mother, I cursed. Do you not see, though, how insufferable it is having the two of you as parents? How you have so driven me to incomprehensible madness?"

"Minerva, dear, maybe it best if you calm down a tad," said my father.

"Calm down!?" I cried. "Last I checked, I was calm."

Albus's mother decided for a go of fun, and so I sat staring at her, wishing to hit her with a wooden stick as you would a Mexican piñata, or even a broom stick or spoon. . . . anything to shut the old hag up. All earlier pretense of feeling remorseful for the woman was now completely diminished.

"Oh, Minerva, dearest. Tisn't that bad, now, is it? Marry, have a few children, that's all we ask of you." My mother nodded. My father, as did Albus's, looked rather pleased about the whole idea.

"Mother," tried Albus. "Mother, I know you wish for me to marry, but you have blown things out of proportion a bit, haven't you?"

His mother sighed. "I- I suppose you're right, Albus. We have been rather demanding. Why- why don't we let the idea float about in your head for the next couple of weeks while the McGonagall's are here to visit, hmm?" My mother frowned, I could tell she wasn't at all happy. But something Charlisse did next had me puzzled. She simply smiled radiantly, eyes twinkling fully, toward my mother. They made eye contact and my mother began smiling too. I wondered at that time if maybe my mother was clairvoyant. I didn't think so, but nevertheless did I not forget that thought.

We were all quiet for the remainder of breakfast. Our father's left to check in at the ministry with a few younger friends while our mothers made to the parlor. I made myself useful in gathering the plates and mugs.

"You know, my parents have house elves that do that?" said Albus. I know he was just making conversation, though I also knew he felt a bit nervous around me now.

I sighed. "Yes, I just thought I could make myself useful."

He stood up. "You don't have to do that. You're a guest." He had made his way to me and now stood right beside me. "You know they're not giving up, don't you?"

"I do. Is there anything we can do to change their minds?"

"I'm afraid not," he answered. "You know as well as I that neither my mother, nor yours, has ever been one to give up on something."

"So. . . . we can make the best of the situation, and be civil toward one another, or we can continue the way we are," I interjected.

"I think it best we at least appear to be on good terms."