I heard his voice again, for the third time that night, magnified so that all could hear him. But I only registered one sentence of Lord Voldemort's speech: Harry Potter is dead. I stopped doing whatever it was that I was doing, I had forgotten what it was. No. He can't be dead. It's some sort of trick. He can't be dead. I ran out of the Great Hall and burst out of the heavy oak doors to the front of the School. And then I saw him, limp in Hagrid's arms.
"NO!"
I heard someone screaming until I realized that it was me. My one and only grandson was dead.
People often mentioned how Harry had Lily's eyes. Lily's eyes came from me. I, Minerva McGonagall, was Harry's grandmother. Lily was Albus's and mine's daughter. We had here during Gridelwalds reign, and thought it best that we put her with a nice Muggle family, to keep her safe. It broke my heart to give my only child to Muggle strangers. I regret not telling Lily the truth until she was 17, we only got to know each other in a mother daughter fashion for a couple of years.
The day that Harry was born was one of the happiest days of my life. I thought that, even with Voldemort in reign, we would finally have a true family again. The night that James, Lily, and I had at first thought Harry, were murdered, I thought that I could not live another day. But Harry was found! Alive! I could have cried for joy when Albus told me that our one year old grandson had live through Voldemort. But alas, Albus gave Harry to what Lily had grown up knowing as her sister, Petunia, saying he would be much better off in the Muggle world than in the Wizarding world. My heart was again broken as Albus gently put his own grandson on the front door of those Muggle's house. Why did I have to give away another person who was so dear and precious to me? I wanted to take him back and scold Albus for putting him away to those horrible Muggles. But deep down in my twice broken heart, I knew that this was better than keeping him in the Wizarding world, where we would be famous beyond relief.
For ten years, I waited and worried. Albus wouldn't even let me check on him in my Animagus form. And then that summer arrived when Harry was to receive a letter from Hogwarts. When Harry never got the letters, I begged Albus to let me go get him and take him to Diagon Alley. He told me no, that it would look strange if the Deputy Headmistress went to go fetch him. He told me that the boy was not to know that we were his grandparents. Not yet. So he sent Hagrid. Albus had to nearly restrain me from bombarding Hagrid with questions about Harry. I was nervous about Harry's arrival. I wanted to make sure that we was alright, I wanted to help him after the abuse he had suffered from the Muggles. But I couldn't. He wasn't to know that we were his grandparents. There weren't many people who know that Harry was our grandson; Hagrid, Rolanda Hooch, Pomona Sprout, Poppy Pomfrey, and Filius Flitwick were the only ones at Hogwarts that knew.
So I waited and watched Harry thought his first year at Hogwarts, being sorted into my House, Gryffindor (much to my delight), his success on the Quidditch team, saving Hermione from the troll, his bad habit of sneaking out of bed after hours, and finally, his second defeat of Lord Voldemort by saving to Sorcerer's Stone. I was so proud of him. I thought it unfair that Albus should get close with the boy and me not, but Albus assured me that we would tell him, but not now.
I worried through Harry's second year at Hogwarts as he dealt with being accused of being "Slytherin's Heir", finding that he could speak Parseltongue, deal with the attack of Hermione, and then facing Tom Riddle for a third time in the Chamber of Secrets. Albus wouldn't let me tell Harry our secret, but bye the time Harry was in his third year, Molly and Arthur Weasley and Remus Lupin also knew. I took the advantage of keeping my grandson safe by confiscating the Firebolt he had received for Christmas, and making sure sire didn't have any curses, jinxes, hexes, or dangerous charms on it. Other than that, I could not help Harry in any other way as she learned to ward of Dementors, and saved Sirius Black and the hippogriff Buckbeak from fates worse than death.
Surely now, I told Albus, we can tell him. But still, he told me not to tell Harry. So I again watched him through his fourth fifth and sixth years at Hogwarts. He managed to get through the Tri Wizard Tournament, live to tell of Voldemort's resurrection, take Olccumency lessons with Severus, hear the Prophecy, watch his godfather died, try to unfold the mysteries of Lord Voldemort, and finally, watch Albus be murdered. My heart was broken again. I had lost my love and my support. I watched Harry as he mourned for Albus too. I think Albus had become a father like figure to Harry. I longed to tell Harry my secret, but something held me back. So I waited. But Harry did not return to Hogwarts for his final year. I didn't expect him to. But it was the hardest year for me. I couldn't even watch him from a professor's standpoint. I didn't know where he was, what he was doing. It pained me to not be able to watch over him. By this time, those who were in the Order knew of my secret. Though I couldn't watch over him, it was some comfort to know that Hermione and Ron would always be there for him. So I waited to see if he would accomplish whatever task Albus had given him before he died.
But then, he turned up tonight, here at Hogwarts. I found him in the Ravenclaw Common Room with Luna. I was surprised to see him, I was so glad to see him! He told me that Voldemort was coming, but that he, Harry, needed to search the school for something. I agreed to help him to the best of my ability. So Hogwarts fought. The last time I saw him was after the first part of the battle had ended.
But now, as I stood there, watching as Hagrid was forced to put Harry's body on the ground at Voldemort's feet, my anger boiled. I wasn't the only one. The battle broke out again, and I only had eyes for the… thing that killed my grandson. I hexed Death Eaters out of my way to get to Voldemort. As soon as I was within firing range, I sent as many hexes, curses, jinxes, whatever, towards him. I was soon joined by Kingsley Shaklebolt and Horus Slughorn.
"You… killed… my …GRANDSON!" I said each word with a jinx to make my point.
"Aw, bitty Potter was you grandson? Then how about I finish you off so you can join to stupid boy and his stupid parents?" laughed Voldemort as I narrowly missed one of his Killing Curses. As we battle, I vaguely heard Molly Weasley scream, "NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH!"
You go Molly. I smiled to myself and pursued my battle. I heard a scream, and found myself being blasted back. But then I heard a voice that I thought I would never heard again shout out a Protective Charm. I looked around in time to see Harry pull off his Invisibility Cloak. I gaped a little. What- how- he was- wasn't he? How'd he do that?!
No matter. If I lived through this Battle, Potter and I would have a long discussion. I watched Harry and Voldemort circle each other, like two mighty lions preparing to fight. Which was technically going on anyways. I silently debated whether to nonverbally cast a Protective Charm around Harry, but I knew that this was his battle, and he either had to win, or die trying. I tried not to think about the latter part. I came out of my thoughts as I saw Harry raise his wand and shouted the Disarming Charm. At the same time, to my horror, Voldemort screamed the Killing Curse. I watched as the two spells collided and the Elder Wand flew out of Voldemort's hand as he fell to the ground, dead. He was dead. The greatest dark wizard of the century was dead. Relief washed over me like a cool drink of water. I got up from the ground and went to Harry and hugged him with all my might. My grandson had killed Lord Voldemort. We were free. I was so proud of him. I wanted to talk to him then, but I knew I couldn't. But no matter. We had all the time in the world. We would talk later.
