I decided to write this because there are so many missing moments in the books that they have to be written down! I expect there are other fics like this, but I promise I'm not copying!

Also, would you read my sisters story? It's Harry Potter and the Last Battle, I posted it for her because she hasn't got an account yet. Bear with her, I think she'll get into the swing of it soon, and it'll pick up. Pleeeeeeease drop in a review. For me?

This is quite angsty towards the end, and depressing as well, but it is a missing moment! And please read the A/N at the bottom.

Missing Moment One.

Leaving Harry.

Minerva's eyes slid rapidly down the wet parchment, ignoring the cheering, screeching owls and loud fireworks outside her London town house.

Minerva,

They've attacked Lily and James, you must talk to Albus. Someone has already collected the baby. Albus said that you would know where he is taking the child. We are all waiting at their house, please try to find Albus, we need to know what is going on, but as far as we can tell, the rumours are true, You-know-who is gone, but where or why we don't know, no one does. The ministry will be arriving soon, please hurry!

Hestia.

Minerva stared at the parchment a moment longer before jumping into action. She threw some Floo powder into the fire and ducked into the fireplace.

"Ollivanders!" she cried, and and flames turned green as she disappeared. Ollivanders was a key place in the resistance known as the Order of the Phoenix. Ollivanders shop acted as a base and the man himself was an informant, while also being able to supply them with wands when they lost their own in battle or a raid.

The back room of the shop spun into sight and and Minerva climbed out. Ollivander was pacing the room, wringing his hands.

"Minerva!" he exclaimed as she stepped out of the fireplace, "What's going on?! Hestia just told me-"

"I know. I don't understand either. Can I use your Floo? I need to go to Arabella, in Surrey." Oliver Ollivander had an illegal Floo connection, it was very useful to the order because neither the Ministry or Voldemort could track it.

"No, I'm afraid not.."

"Why ever not?!" exclaimed Minerva, "Oliver, I need to get to Surrey!"

"You'll just have apparate then, the whole of the Floo network is down! So this one is down as well, it's only hidden, not non-existent, you know," said Ollivander miserably.

"Damn it!" cursed Minerva, "Can you tell me where the nearest apparition point to Magnolia Crescent is, then?"

"Yes, certainly," answered Ollivander, as he bustled around the many cupboards lining the walls and scattered about the floor,"but may I ask why?"

"Albus said that that was where the Potters had relatives, I think it highly likely that he would have taken him there."

"Mm, yes he might of," agreed Ollivander. "The nearest apparition point is in Camberley, it's fairly close to Magnolia Crescent," he read off a Ministry scroll, "It'll take you at least half an hour to reach it, so you'd better hurry."

"Thank-you so much Oliver! I'll send word when I have news."

He nodded goodbye and thanked her.

Minerva spun in a graceful circle and disappeared with a loud crack and reappeared in a small city. A couple of cars waited at the traffic lights. A 24hr shop on the corner was just opening, and the grocer down the road was sweeping the steps to his shop. Minerva looked around then retreated into sheltered alley to transform into her tabby-cat form. Once in her feline disguise she trotted off down the street, looking for the turning towards the suburbs where the Potters relatives lived.

As Minerva turned down the side road (which was unusually neat in her opinion) she wondered what the Dursleys, that was their name if she remembered what Lily and told her, were like. She knew they weren't magical, but that didn't mean they were nasty. Lily and James hadn't visited them much; in fact, Minerva wasn't aware that they and ever visited them. Lily's sister was named after a flower as well, what was it again...? Minerva flicked a delicate tabby ear in annoyance at her inability to remember. Was it Pansy? Or Poppy? It definitely started with 'P'...

Minerva turned down another small road. This one had open gardens and small hedges made of privet that stopped by the edge of the pavement.. Minerva saw a sign saying 'Magnolia Crescent' and immediately headed down that way. This one was no different from the other roads, except that the houses were smaller and slightly cheaper as well. Minerva found number seven and turned up the small, flower bordered path. Minerva slipped through the cat flap on the front door and turned back to her human shape.

"Arabella?" she called, walking silently along the well-worn green carpet. "Arabella, are you here? It's me, Minerva."

"Oh, thank-goodness!" cried someone from behind her, "I thought you might have been a Death-Eater!"

Arabella Figg emerged from a doorway, and headed towards Minerva. "What's wrong?"

"It's Lily and James, they've been attacked, everyone says that they're-that they're...dead." finished Minerva.

The other woman clapped her and so to her face and looked at Minerva in horror, "But-but the protection, the charm! How did they get past it?"

"I don't know. But can you tell me where the 'Dursleys' live?" asked Minerva.

Arabella nodded, "Yes, Privet Drive. Go back down the road and take the left fork. It's Number Four. You can't miss it either, that horrible son of theirs screaming and throwing tantrums all day and most of the night." Arabella muttered under her breath.

Minerva nodded hurriedly and thanked the flustered old woman, before turning back into her tabby-cat form and trotting back out through the cat-flap. She reached the road and carefully looked for the numbers on the immaculate doors. "Eight...seven...six...five...four." Minerva stopped outside a dark-green door, the highly polished brass knocker reflecting the rising sun, and stared up at it.

What were the people behind this door, no doubt asleep, if they were at all normal, like. Would they be upset by Lily's death? Or would they simply wash their hands of the matter? Minerva stared a little while longer before shaking herself and moving away from from Number Four.

There was a brick wall at the far end of the street. If Minerva sat there, she would be able to watch both ends of the street, so that she could keep an eye out for Albus. Minerva settled herself on top of the wall and sat still. It was something she was excellent at, not that she enjoyed it.

As a child, Minerva had been educated as a proper Ravenclaw pureblood should have been. She had had lessons on keeping still for hours on end, drinking afternoon tea properly, and the sort of small-talk that was appropriate for conversing to the Minister in. Of course, when she got into Gryffindor, her family had dropped all those things, a headstrong Gryffindor didn't need proper 'petite and polite' manners! They were much to loud and boisterous. Minerva hadn't cared. She had been glad that she hadn't had to learn those silly things. Once she was told she didn't have to, she quickly took to being blunt and to the point, something she was pleased about, none of this political small-talk, though among other things, she had become less centred on manners. She would often bolt down a piece of toast while running down to the Quidditch pitch and hurrying her playing robes on, and duelling with Slytherins in the corridors, while her Ravenclaw cousins looked on disapproval.

Minerva was shaken from her thoughts by a loud wailing that made her ears feel funny. It came from Number Four. Minerva hurried along the pavement, back to the house and peeped in at a window by climbing a rather drastically cut rhododendron tree. Inside, Minerva saw through the double glazed window, a plump, pink baby of about thirteen months was wailing. His mother was wrestling with the child to try and get it into a high-chair while it shouted at the top of it's voice something that sounded like, 'Gimme!', but was barely distinguishable above the loud voice of the muggle in the moving picture-box near the oven that was talking about the strange amount of owls flying in daylight.

Minerva's tail slithered among the leaves of the tree as she watched the silly, fussing woman trying to feed baby food to the fat child. When the man appeared Minerva let out a little hiss. This man was fat and beefy. His thick moustache and short, bull-dog like neck gave Minerva the impression that he was not a very pleasant piece if work. It was with a sinking heart that Minerva saw the little boy, 'Duddydums' as his mother called him, throw his pale-green mush across the room to land on top of one of the many muggle appliances. Little Harry Potter, if indeed Albus was bringing him here, would not have a happy life.

Minerva continued to watch the Dursleys and was less and less impressed by what she saw: she was going to have to talk Albus out of this idea. Minerva's thought went round to Albus, in the first idle moment since she had woken to the sound of a loud firecracker outside her window.

Her relationship with Albus was completely and utterly professional. Almost. She couldn't quite get rid of the nagging little voice that loved him with all it's heart. Quite. Most of the time, her feelings, such as they were, were of little importance, and so Minerva ignored them. Anyway, Minerva knew that Albus would never be interested in a middle-aged, (by wizarding standards) spinster. Minerva had been considered handsome in her day, but now grey streaked her black hair and fine lines surrounded her eyes. Anyway, Albus himself was a hundred and thirty-odd years old himself, well into his prime.

Minerva wasn't given to self-pity; no, most of the time, she just got on with things. And so she tried to with this problem. It would never happen, so what was the point in crying over lost dreams? No point. But all the same, Minerva loved his smell of chocolate and sherbet lemons, and the way he was so sensitive to everyone's needs. They also shared a common interest; Transfiguration. He had been the Transfiguration Professor before her, and they often had many intelligent conversations over the latest edition of 'Transfiguration Today' or shared tales from their lessons. They would often have each other crying with laughter.

Another wail broke the silent morning as Mr. Dursley opened his front door and stepped into his sparkling clean silver car, with 'Grunnings: Drills made to fit your dreams.' stamped on the front in bright yelow. Minerva gaped a little. These people were...were...unbelievable! Minerva transferred her gaze to the map that was laid out in front of her to stop the bright colours of the car hurting her eyes. Mr. Dursleys car slowed when it reached her and she saw him gaping at her. She stared coolly back. The car sped up again and it was soon gone. Minerva sighed and prepared to wait. This would take a while.

-----

Darkness had fallen and Dumbledore still hadn't turned up. Minerva's backside was very cold, and she thanked her animagus form for it's warmth. Minerva shifted slightly then something at the far end of the street stirred. She just had time to notice bright purple boots and a long cloak, before all the lights went out in quick succession. The Putter-Outer, thought Minerva with a smile. It had been a gift from Alastor Moody one Christmas, and Albus rather enjoyed playing with it. Minerva had, once or twice, walked into Albus' office, to find it pitch dark, then suddenly bursting with light again. It always made Minerva roll her eyes, yet laugh inside, when he showed his childishness in such strange ways.

The man came nearer, and Minerva wondered if he knew she was there. Her thought was instantly confirmed when he said: "Fancy seeing you her Professor Mcgonagall."

She transformed back and turned her glare that had reduced a full-grown Peter Pettigrew to tears. "Albus, I have been here since six forty-five this morning!"

"Have you really? Why haven't you been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen parties on my way here!"

"Because-because I heard rumours. Rumours about Lily and James, and I wanted to know if they were true."

He was apparently too busy to answer, as he was unsticking two yellow sweets from each other. Minerva was about to angrily snap at him when a strange noise filled the air.

"Albus! What is that?!"

This time, he answered her. "That, I think is, is Hagrid."

"Hagrid?!" Minerva looked up at the sky. The silhouette of a motorbike was outlined against the faintly orange sky. The motorbike dropped from the sky and bounced slightly on impact. A huge man got off.

"Pr'fessor Dumbledore? I got 'im, sir."

The two teacher hastened forward. Swaddled in blankets was a small baby. His tiny hands were clenched and he appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

Minerva gasped. On his forehead was a thin, red, lightning bolt shaped scar. And it would stay there forever.

-----

Minerva looked at the small bundle lying on the doorstep of the muggle house. She wouldn't see him for ten more years. Little Harry Potter was going to live with the Dursleys, his only known relatives. Albus had explained to her, and she had reluctantly agreed, the blood protection was the best protection for him. But he was still going to be miserable for ten whole, until he could go to Hogwarts.

Albus held out his arm for her and she gripped it tight. She would hate him for leaving Harry here tomorrow; in the meantime, she was too tired to bother. She was going to stay in Hogwarts now, until term started again.

They apparated to Hogsmeade and slowly made their way back to Hogwarts. Once they were in the entrance hall, Albus asked to walk her to her rooms. She was too upset to care. They reached her rooms and Minerva gave the portrait the password and she entered.

Her rooms were burgundy and gold, the colours of Gryffindor. The elves had obviously been; a roaring fore was going in the large fireplace, and some warm food was laid out. Minerva cast it an apathetic glance, then flopped onto the squashy red sofa.

She must have looked absolutely terrible to make him talk to her while she was in a bad mood, but he did.

"Minerva?" he sat on the sofa next to her. "Minerva? Are you all right?"

"Do I look it?!"

"No." he said quietly, and...was that a hint of...remorse?

"Well then!"

"I didn't want to leave Harry with them either. But it was the best way-" he stopped as Minerva cut him off.

"I know, I know, Albus, it makes sense. You did the best you could, and it may save little Harry's life. But I d-don't want t-to just l-leave him there, and-and Lily and J-James dead and-" Minerva broke off in a flurry of sobs. Albus looked utterly flabbergasted for a moment then he moved over and gathered her in a hug. Minerva broke down completely, sob after sob, tear after tear, soaked the front of Albus' robes.

Albus held her tightly, like he had always wanted to do, yet his heart ached for her misery, and poor little baby Harry. Minerva clutched at him tighter buried her face in his robes; he held her closer and lent his cheek on her head.

"I love you, Minerva." he whispered into her hair.

"I love you, Albus," Minerva sobbed into his chest.

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What a depressing way to end a story! Tell me what you think! I think I'll mainly do ADMM, but if anyone wants, I'll do some other pairings as well.

Either give your missing moment, or just ask for a pairing, and I'll do my best! I'd rather not slash though, and the pairing must have some kind of missing moment in one of the six books as well. Hence the title, Lol.

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