A/N: Hello! I apologize for such a long absence in updating. This piece was written for the Canon Fix Fest for Beyond the Book Fanfiction Nook, a group on Facebook. The prompt was: "McGonagall goes back to get Harry to raise him herself before the Dursleys discover baby Harry on their porch." This is, as the name of the fest suggests, a canon fix and therefor is not canon compliant. I hope you enjoy it.
While I haven't been posting, I have been around...writing. I've got almost 20k* written on a new story. I'm hoping to get a little bit more done before I start posting, so I can keep up with the weekly posting schedule I used for The Killing Curse. This story is so close to my heart, and I can't wait to share it with y'all.
(*EDIT: I'm a fuck up and was reading "characters" and not "words" so this has been edited from more than 97k to almost 20k. #whoops #StillALot)
As always, you can find me (and a sneak peek of the above story, as well as an aesthetic for this oneshot) on Tumblr at dragonsandotters-dh. Without further ado...
Part I:
It was an ordinary night on Privet Drive, but Minerva McGonagall's heart was a storm inside her as she stood at the corner of the suburban street. It was an ordinary night except that two of her most precious students had been murdered, and their son — miraculously — had survived Voldemort's attack.
Just an ordinary night, she thought bitterly as she awaited the Headmaster's arrival. She tried to focus, recalling the conversations she'd had with Lily about her sister so that she could explain to Albus in no uncertain terms that this might be the worst idea he'd ever had — and that was truly saying something.
But she found her mind wandering as she watched the house with a silver four hanging on the door. She couldn't help but imagine James and Lily's last moments, could practically hear their voices as she shrank against her mind's visions. How many students would she outlive thanks to this blasted war and Tom.
She'd long since buried the feelings she'd harbored about him when they were in school. Even his given name left a bitter taste in her mouth now. The damage he'd done to their world, the lives he'd cut short — it was unforgivable.
Her tail swished angrily from her perch near a lamp post at the end of the street, a hiss at nothing in particular forcing its way past her lips of its own accord. She paced around the post, hoping to expel some of her excess energy, but it was no use.
Anyone who passed by would've seen an annoyed cat, but inside that cat was a heartbroken and raging witch.
They wouldn't have had to wait long to see that, though, as Albus Dumbledore appeared out of thin air at the other side of the street. Even if she weren't able to feel his magic from this far away, the darkness couldn't completely hide such a lavishly dressed and bearded man. He seemed to sparkle in the night.
She ran toward him as he used a deluminator to snuff out the lights lining the otherwise calm street. She transformed mid-run into her human form and slowed her pace to a brisk walk.
"Albus," she hissed as she approached. "You can't really think this is a good idea!"
"My dear Minerva," the wizard responded solemnly, "I think it is a better idea than you give it credit for being. The child will be safe here."
"Safe!" she all but screamed. "These-these Muggles are not safe! They hate magic, and they hated Lily!" Saying her former student's name sent fresh pain through her body, but she fought not to outwardly show it even as she desperately wanted to curl in on herself from the weight of it.
Dumbledore's eyes searched her, and she could feel the gentle probes of Legilimency, but she resisted him. "Albus," she snapped. "The baby should go to Sirius, you know that's what James and Lily wanted!" And again, she tried to ignore the feeling of salt being rubbed into a wound as she spoke their names, pushing away the images of them as innocent and carefree students that threatened to play across her mind.
"Sirius isn't ready for this kind of responsibility, Minerva," he responded calmly. "He tried to go after Peter Pettigrew tonight, and the only thing that stopped him was Hagrid appearing — just in time, I might add."
"Peter betrayed them! I would go after him myself the rat bastard," the witch grumbled under her breath.
"Be that as it may, Sirius isn't stable enough to care for a child, and especially not one who will be known the world over for vanquishing Voldemort."
Minerva's jaw twitched. "Sirius Black is more stable than these people!"
"Minerva," Dumbledore's tone told her the conversation was over, and she was ready to fight him more on this when the grumbling of a motorcycle broke through the night's stillness.
They both looked up to the sky and watched in silence as Hagrid landed Sirius' bike on the ground with more force than was necessary. Minerva almost managed a smile at the thought of Sirius seeing that display of carelessness toward his most prized possession, but her attention was immediately pulled to the Wizarding World's most prized possession.
The Boy Who Lived slept peacefully in the half-giant's arms, and she stepped forward, grabbing the babe from Hagrid as he dismounted the motorcycle.
"How was the trip, Hagrid?" Albus asked as Minerva cradled the baby against her chest, breathing in the scent of him and feeling her heart shatter all over again that he would never know his parents and they wouldn't get to see this boy grow up.
"Alrigh' Professor Dumbledore, sir. The boy slep' peacefully most-a the way."
Albus nodded and turned to Minerva. "It's time," he said pointedly, and Minerva's arms tightened around the boy instinctively.
"This isn't right, Albus," she responded.
Hagrid stood there awkwardly turning his head back and forth to look at each of them as they spoke.
"Give me the baby," Albus demanded softly, and Minerva had half the mind to refuse and apparate away with him right then.
But she didn't.
Slowly she handed the baby to Albus, and he walked toward Number 4 Privet Drive, a witch and half-giant following closely behind. When he came to the doorstep, he took out a small basket from his robe pocket. It immediately sprang outward to its original size, and he bent down to place it on the ground.
He situated Harry in the transfigured blankets that lined the basket and pulled forth a letter from his robes addressed to the Dursleys, placing it atop the blankets. He turned back to his companions and nodded.
"Alright, Hagrid, you better get out of here before any of these Muggles wake up."
"Yes, sir," the half-giant responded, turning back toward the motorcycle with only one forlorn look back at the trio still on the doorstep.
Albus looked to Minerva and held his arm out for her. "I'll apparate us back to Hogwarts."
Minerva shook her head, stepping away from him. "I think I'll take myself to Hogsmeade. I need a drink," she responded curtly.
"I have a fine selection of firewhisky and elf wine in my office, Minerva," Dumbledore offered.
Minerva scoffed. "With all due respect, Headmaster, I think you're making a tremendous mistake, and quite frankly, I don't want to be around you right now."
Dumbledore nodded solemnly, reaching out to grasp her shoulder. "As you wish," he said before turning on the spot.
The castle was bustling the next morning as the professors prepared for students to arrive. Everyone seemed to be busying themselves with more fervor than ever. Though the Wizarding World was celebrating the end of He Who Must Not Be Named, the deaths of James and Lily Potter weighed heavily on the magical school.
Albus was getting ready to address the staff before lunch when a house elf popped up next to him.
"Professor Dumbledore, sir," the elf squeaked, "there is an urgent matter in your office."
Dumbledore nodded and thanked the elf, excused himself from the Great Hall and made his way back up the stairs.
He couldn't say he was surprised to find Alastor Moody waiting for him. "I'm going to have to take you to the Ministry, Albus. Crouch has requested an immediate meeting."
"Can't this wait? The students will be arriving in a few hours," Dumbledore responded.
Alastor grumbled incoherently for a moment before speaking again. "'Requested' might not have been the best choice of words. 'Demanded' is more like it," he said. "Crouch ordered me to bring you by force if necessary."
"Ah...no, that won't be necessary. Let us go, then."
Later, he sat across from Crouch in the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement offices telling the tale of that fateful night before.
"It's highly unusual to place a magical child with Muggles, Albus," Crouch urged, trying to figure out the Headmaster's reasonings.
"It's just a theory I have, really, but I think Harry Potter will be safer with his blood relatives than anywhere else."
Crouch regarded him for a long, silent moment. "Naturally, we sent Aurors out to Privet Drive to run our own diagnostic spells on the boy. When we got there, the Dursley family had no knowledge of the child being left to them nor were they even aware of James and Lily Potter's deaths."
"That's not possible," Albus responded.
Crouch narrowed his eyes at the older wizard. "In your infinite wisdom, Albus, you somehow allowed the savior of our world to slip through our fingers. Harry Potter has been kidnapped."
Albus' blood ran cold in his veins.
Part II:
"Tell me where the boy is!"
Albus couldn't remember the last time he'd raised his voice, but he could feel his nerves breaking, his temper desperate to break free. The woman in front of him cackled, and he slammed his palm down on the table with a loud smack to drown out the sound of her twisted glee.
"Moody, I want you to go."
"Headmaster, sir, you shouldn't be in here to begin with…"
"We've bent our fair share of laws these past few days to find the child, I dare say it won't be much more to simply step outside."
Albus didn't spare the Auror even a glance, the demand was laced in his tone, and he smirked at the witch across from him as the sound of Moody's chair scraping against the floor filled the room.
The woman began to squirm in her chair delightedly, the magical chains that bound her rattling and echoing against the walls of the dimly lit interrogation room. "I'll never tell," she half-sang as she watched Moody leave the room with a reluctant half glance back at Albus.
Immediately, the old man sprang into action, casting various locking and disfiguring charms to keep the Aurors from getting back in until he wanted them to and disallow their spying on his actions.
After finishing the last bits of magic and ignoring the muffled sound of protesting Aurors, he spun gracefully toward the detained witch, stopping in front of her and staring down at her broken eyes with fire in his own.
A tinge of light poked out through the clouds, sparking the beginning of dawn on Privet Drive. A woman dressed in traditional Muggle attire walked briskly down the street, seemingly appearing out of nowhere but looking as if she belonged nowhere else.
Her hair was pinned back in a tight bun, and her eyes scanned the area deftly, not out of place for a woman walking alone even in the suburbs.
Her modest heels barely clacked against the sidewalk as she strode purposefully to the fourth house from the end of the block.
She turned sharply on her toes and faced the door, otherwise normal but for the sounds of babbling coming from a basket on the front step.
The woman took long strides toward the bundle and the relief that washed over her as she picked the babe up from the basket was palpable from a distance if anyone had seen her.
But they didn't. She'd made sure of that.
It was beyond disturbing for Albus to be inside this witch's mind. It was almost as if the memories were burning him in return for revealing themselves, and each one was more disgusting than the last.
He forced past the noise, pushing harder against the subconscious than he ever had of anyone's before this. He needed answers.
While he hated to believe it was even possible that Bellatrix Lestrange had managed to steal Harry Potter away from Privet Drive, it wasn't something he could ignore.
Any of Tom Riddle's followers getting to the boy would most certainly mean a painful death for The Boy Who Lived. So if they had him, Albus needed to know, and he needed to know fast.
Bellatrix had long since passed out from the pressure he was putting on her mind, and while he had no way of knowing exactly how this would affect the witch, he didn't have any other choice.
He would find Harry Potter if it was the last thing he did.
The woman walked quickly down the old cobblestone street, clutching the baby to her chest as if it were the only thing tethering her to the world. She kept her face down, nearly buried in the nape of the child's neck.
A rustling in the bushes next to her gave her pause, and she stopped abruptly, holding the baby tighter than ever.
Her heart hammered against her chest so loud she was worried she'd call attention to herself.
Had she really done this?
Was she really doing this?
An animal emerged from the shrubbery, and she sighed deeply. Yes… she was. For better or worse.
Albus gulped in deep breaths of air as he pulled out of the witch's mind, gripping the table behind him desperately. He only needed a moment to steady himself before rage crashed over him full force.
It was hard to admit to being so wrong so many times in the span of a few days. Albus rarely dealt with the reality of being incorrect. Living nearly a hundred years could do that to a person.
As it were, Albus fought against the desire to throw the unconscious witch in front of him across the room just to watch her crumble into a heap on the floor. He would probably be doing the world at large a huge favor if he just killed her right there.
But he didn't.
Instead, he stormed out of the room, breaking all of his enchantments along the way.
He'd come to regret that on some level for the rest of his life. As he was coming to understand the fate of one child in the magical world, he was sealing the fate of another.
But he didn't know that then as he flew past the Aurors congregated outside of the interrogation room with barely a passing, "She doesn't know anything. Let her go," before he was whipping through the halls of the Ministry on his way back to Hogwarts.
The woman felt a heavy dose of wards morph as she passed through them, entering the front gate of a home she'd only begun to see as the animal disappeared behind the magical protections.
As she passed through the wards, her transfigured appearance melted away and there on the front lawn of an old cottage was Minerva McGonagall, clinging tightly to Harry Potter.
She watched as the animal stopped ahead of her and began to change as well, slipping the fur off like a coat and standing to the full height of a man. Emotional eyes turned to meet her, and the stormy grey color was all too familiar.
"Sirius, I'm so, so sorr —"
"Thank you," the wizard said, interrupting her with his words as he stepped closer to her, holding his arms out for the baby. "He's the most important thing in the world to me."
"I know," Minerva responded, her own emotions bubbling to the surface in the way her voice broke on the words.
She followed Sirius into the French cottage and busied herself by making tea as Sirius reaquainted himself with his godson.
"Albus what an unexpected surprise," Minerva said pointedly, not at all surprised, as the headmaster burst into her office without warning.
"You have him."
"I do not."
"You took him."
"I did."
"Merlin's beard, Minerva, do you have any idea what you've done?"
Minerva smiled politely at the old man and stood from her seat at the desk in the corner of the room and walked across the floor to a bookshelf.
She pulled out an old looking book, opening it to reveal a photo album. There were only a few photos so far, but with the size of the book, it was clear she expected to have many more pictures to fill it with.
"You're raising him."
"I'm helping."
"He would be safer —"
"With all due respect, Albus, if you haven't found him with any of your vast location charms and other concoctions, do you really expect anyone else to be able to find him?"
She watched silently as the gears in his mind turned, and the trademark twinkle that returned to his eyes told her this was far from over — but all was well, for now.
Part III:
Halloween, 1982
A year after the deaths of James and Lily Potter, Minerva couldn't say things were normal — were things ever normal with a two year old running around? — but she, Sirius, and Harry had found a nice routine. A routine Minerva was grateful to be apart of.
As was customary on Sundays, Minerva arrived at the front door of Sirius' hidden cottage in Muggle France and knocked promptly at 10 in the morning. She spent every Sunday morning having tea with Harry and Sirius, and she survived being apart from Harry the rest of the week by Floo calling once a day.
Minerva couldn't help falling hard for the baby she'd stolen from a doorstep all those months ago. Though she'd give anything to have his parents back, it was nice to have found a silver lining in the tragedy.
She stood at the front door with a heavy, grateful heart. She knew this day would be hard for the rest of their lives, but she wanted to celebrate James and Lily Potter in everything she did — every student she taught, every laugh she elicited from their child's mouth. Every day was a gift to their legacy.
She didn't expect what greeted her behind the door.
Of course, she'd known Sirius would be in some kind of way on this day, but she'd grown to see Sirius as a competent parental figure for young Harry. She thought maybe that would ground him on a day filled with raw, nightmare-ish emotions.
She was wrong.
A crumpled Sirius stared back at her as he ushered her inside.
"I don't think I can do this today," he whispered, and she knew he wasn't talking about tea.
It felt like her heart was breaking all over again as she looked empathetically into the face of a man broken from the grief he'd bottled up for the sake of the child.
"Not to worry," she responded quickly, pulling the wizard into a strong hug, attempting to will some of her strength into him.
No other words were needed, and Minerva made her way through the house, into Harry's room. Her demeanor changed immediately at the sight of the child playing quietly in the corner. "Aun-ie Minnie!"
She scooped the boy into her arms with a grin breaking across her face. "Good morning, Harry," she spoke softly, picking Harry's bag from the wardrobe before heading back into the main part of the house. "Auntie Minerva is gonna take you out today, how about that?"
"Yay!"
Sirius trying to smile at the boy's enthusiasm was more heartbreaking than his morose expression from before. She put Harry down so he could say goodbye to his godfather. Minerva could see the man drawing strength from the boy, but it would never be enough to fill the void James and Lily left in his heart.
"We'll be back by bedtime," Minerva said as cheerfully as possible before bidding Sirius goodbye and taking Harry by the hand to head out into Muggle France.
She had no idea what she was going to do with the boy for the whole day, but like with everything involving Harry, she knew she'd figure something out.
Halloween, 1989
"This is my favorite day of the year!" Harry exclaimed as Minerva opened the door to the ice cream parlor a few blocks from Harry and Sirius' home.
Her jaw dropped, but she said nothing as the boy zoomed past her toward the counter to order his breakfast.
It had become tradition for Minerva to take Harry out for Halloween, no matter what day it landed on. She'd call in a substitute if she had to. It was always ice cream for breakfast, a trip to the Muggle zoo, a greasy burger for lunch, a trip to the children's museum, a big three-course meal for dinner, and finally a short trip to a park in the evening.
The park had been a great find that first year. There was a knobbly tree Minerva knew James Potter would've loved to climb if he'd had the chance. Before she took Harry back to his house, she would sit with him under the tree and tell him about his parents.
She did her best to make the day fun for him, but it felt unnatural that he'd love this day above the rest in the year. She knew he was too young still to fully understand, but she couldn't help her mind wandering to the knobbly tree and what they'd talk about there this year.
As they sat down to eat their ice cream, Minerva watched the boy closely.
"Auntie Minnie?" he asked suddenly, looking up from his breakfast for the first time with a small frown on his lips. "Can we not go to the park this year? I don't have anyone to play with."
"We absolutely cannot," Minerva replied, slipping subconsciously into her professor voice until the boy's eyes widened. She only used that tone when he was in major trouble. She cleared her throat. "Going to that park is about much more than playing."
"My parents, you mean," he said, his eyes dropping to his lap. "Sirius is always sad today."
"It's a sad day for all of us."
Harry looked up at her with those strikingly green eyes, his entire face dropping with guilt. "I'm sorry I said it was my favorite day. I didn't mean it like that."
"Oh Harry," Minerva responded gently, bringing her hand across the table to cradle his. "I know, sweetheart."
"I don't want to wait for the park. Can we talk about them now?"
"Of course, dear."
Halloween, 1991
Sirius burst into Minerva's office through the Floo, past her as she tried to calm him, and into the hallways of Hogwarts. He stormed the headmaster's office without a second thought.
"You let my godson near a troll? He's eleven!"
"Sirius," Dumbledore replied calmly from behind his trinket-covered desk. "It's lovely to see you this evening, though entirely unusual for a guardian or parent to come here without making an appointment."
"Well if you'd bloody well told me last week you'd have a toll running around the castle, we could've scheduled tea!"
Minerva entered then, out of breath from trying to catch Sirius. "Headmaster, I apologize for this intrusion."
"Not to worry, Minerva. I was just about to tell Sirius here that his godson is just fine and everything has been taken care of."
"I have questions, Dumbledore! And it's your job to answer for what's occurred here tonight!"
"Sirius, please," Minerva started, but Dumbledore spoke before she could continue.
"I'd be more inclined to answer your questions if you would include me in your plans to keep Harry Potter safe. I've told you before —"
"Damn it, this is not the time!"
"Sirius!" Minerva yelled in frustration. "How about we go see Harry, and you can see for yourself that he is fine, and then we can discuss this further at a more appropriate time."
The muscles in Sirius' jaw twitched, but he knew deep down that the witch was right. He wouldn't get anywhere with Dumbledore while he was this mad. He nodded finally, but looked to Dumbledore one last time before leaving his office. "This isn't over."
Minerva sat in her office with Harry and Sirius late into the night. She admitted, if only to herself, that she was proud of the young boy for coming to his friend's aid, and prouder still that he considered Hermione Granger someone worth fighting for. She was a good student and a nice girl.
She'd had to calm them down after Harry revealed to his godfather that he believed Severus Snape was the culprit. Even though Harry had grown up with full knowledge of their world, he was still too young to understand all of the dynamics at play.
Minerva knew, instead, that something was definitely wrong with Professor Quirrell. And as she pulled a blanket over Harry where he lay on the couch in her office with his head in Sirius' lap, she vowed to get to the bottom of it before Harry could continue his conspiracy theories and get himself seriously hurt.
She couldn't trust Albus not to manipulate the situation, and she knew he was up to something with this stone business. Shaking her head, she gently propped up Sirius' and slipped a pillow under him as he slept with an arm wrapped protectively around his godson.
Harry wasn't supposed to spend the night anywhere but in the Gryffindor dorms, but her heart pulled just so at the sight of them, peaceful, together, that she just couldn't wake them up.
She hoped tomorrow would be a better day that would lead to answers to her and Sirius' many questions. But for now, she would let them sleep.
