Hello all. I'm not new here, but my name is. I'm keeping it for ships I don't necessarily want attached to my other names. I don't know if anyone even reads these ships, but I often write for me and nobody else anyway, so we'll go with that. Ta muchly for anybody who reads. This will likely be the only A/N I will write.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

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She spent a moment leaning on the fence, looking out over the glen. He smiled at her outfit. The embodiment of her retirement. A red Aran jumper and jeans and a pair of black Wellington's, her greying ebony hair pulled back in a low, softer bun than he was used to. She looked small against the vast countryside that he knew she loved to get lost in.

This was her home. This small town where nosy neighbours clocked your every move. Not his. He'd been skilled enough to avoid interacting with any of them but he knew that she knew he was here.

Well, not him specifically, but someone.

She stood, taking a deep breath and whistled, two fingers between her teeth and watched on a beautiful mottled collie rounded up her modest herd.

"Alright lass, bring 'em round," she called, moving towards them, her brogue deeper and broader after her self-imposed exile. He envied her in a way. How strong she must be to just leave. To do what was right for her, not the whole of the wizarding world. He had always felt indebted, somehow, to the world that took him in. The works that gave him purpose. But then it had all gone so terribly wrong.

He tuned out as she penned the sheep, scratching her offsider's ear.

Ron and Hermione had split amicably until Molly had petitioned the Wizengamot for custody of her grandchildren. Things had been said in the heat of broken trust and broken hearts and the Weasley family had fractured. Hermione had taken the children to Australia with Ron's blessing. George had been so disgusted with Molly that he vowed never to let her see his children. Bill followed suit although, with his injury, he was not a frequent visitor anyway. Only Percy had remained. A bizarre turnabout from days gone by.

Then Ginny had miscarried their first and the tentative hold they had on each other snapped. She kissed him and left not ten minutes after giving him the news. Then, he supposed, he'd left too. He'd shut up Grimmauld Place and went travelling. Muggle backpacking, to be precise. Hermione had laughed when he'd told her. They kept in touch via phone where possible, email otherwise.

And then she'd emailed, having received an owl from Filius, and then from Neville and Kingsley. She had gone missing.

"Are you finally going to greet me toda' or shall we continue this charade on the morrow?"

He waved the disillusion charm away and grinned as her eyes widened.

"Hello Professor."

"Harry Potter, as I live an' breathe!" She took him in her arms and he smiled as he hugged her. "Gosh, let me lookatcha then," she peered at him, grinning. "You look more like your father every day."

"Thanks," he grinned.

"So," she said. "Draw the short end, did you?"

"No," he leant against the fence, matching her. "I volunteered."

"That'd be foolish," she muttered, looking out over her fields. "I'll no' be going back."

"I'm not here to persuade you otherwise," he grinned. "Hermione already told them it was folly to imagine that anyone could persuade you to do anything you didn't want to. But she wanted to make sure you were alright, just in case."

"She always did care more'n most," she opened her arms in invitation. "I am fine, as you have seen."

"I have," he smiled, feeling brave. "Ever go that pub down the lane?"

"Do I ever," she laughed. "Give me a moment to put my day away and I'll meet you there?"

"Of course, drink?"

"Glenfiddich 15," she grinned. "And their roast if they've got any left?"

"Good, consider it done," he smiled. "See you there," he called, shouldering his pack.

He didn't need one but it gave him a sense of accomplishment and definitely helped him blend in. What backpacker travelled without a bag.

"Mr Potter?" He looked back, finding her staring at him thoughtfully. "Thank you for coming."

"It truly is my pleasure, Professor."

"Minerva," she said quietly. "I am not that woman anymore."

"Then," he nodded. "It's an honour," he paused, tasting the name on his lips. "Minerva."