Prologue
October 31, 1981
Minerva McGonagall had spent the last several hours sitting on a stone wall, observing a family of muggles. Her spot on that wall was hardly comfortable, and yet her real uneasiness lay elsewhere.
No, her spot on the stone wall was hardly a concern. Instead, the woman's mind was buzzing with thoughts. Her body was stiff, sure, but she had never felt more alive.
And… despite the celebrations surely going on all over London, she felt alive in a very different way. Her chest was tight and her eyes were creased with worry.
She was not surprised when the lights that lined the street corners suddenly went out; nor was she startled when a figure appeared at her side.
"My dear professor," said the shadow, "I don't think I've seen a cat sit so stiffly."
Sure enough, it was Albus Dumbledore who spoke to her. Despite being in her animagus form, the headmaster had no trouble recognizing Minerva as her tabby-cat alter ego.
"So it's true, then?"
Those were the only words she could think to say once she'd morphed back into a human. Dumbledore merely stared at her for several seconds, before she bluntly pushed on.
"Lily and James Potter – dead? And their daughter – despite being on the end of the killing curse – is the only survivor?"
"I'm afraid so," said the headmaster; and though his voice was light, his eyes held the pain he kept below the surface. "Hagrid is bringing little Halia here as we speak."
Minerva could feel her heart breaking; not wanting to even think about her former students' little girl growing up without her parents. Instead, she chose to think about the muggle family and everything she'd observed that night.
"Albus please listen to my words – you cannot leave her here. These muggles are as worse as they come," she pleaded. "She will be in the dark living with the muggles – there won't be a witch or wizard alive that doesn't know her name."
"Which is exactly why she belongs here," said Dumbledore, before changing the subject. "Do you hear that? I think Hagrid is close."
The professor looked towards the sky, and sure enough a loud, buzzing noise filled the air as a giant figure appeared in the stars. Minerva stared at Dumbledore from the corner of her eye – "Are you sure it was wise to let Hagrid bring her here on a flying motorcycle?"
"While I understand your concern, Professor, I would trust Hagrid with my life. And he would give up his before putting Halia in any more danger than she's already endured this night."
The descent and landing of the motorbike put an end to their conversation. Hagrid swung his massive leg over the side and began to approach them. The bundle in his arms looked even more fragile and small when compared against the half-giant's enormous stature.
Soon, all three of them were gazing down at the baby girl. Her giant green eyes were wide open, and a mop of black hair already grew from her small head. A blazing red scar, in the shape of a lightning bolt, was carved into her forehead. Dumbledore silently tucked a letter into the baby's blanket before letting Hagrid set her down on the doorstep.
Minerva couldn't help but roll her eyes at the blubbering mess the half-giant had become. "Will you relax, Hagrid? You will see her again."
"B-b-but that won' be for ten years, Professor!"
"Hush now, Hagrid," said Dumbledore, patting his shoulder gently. "Those ten years will go by faster than you can imagine."
With that said the three of them took their leave just after ringing the doorbell; leaving baby Halia in the hands of corrupt muggles.
With a flick of the wrist, the street lamps burst back to life.
