'You
don't mean those people? I watched them all day, Harry Potter can
not live here.'
'It is the best for him, Minerva. Only here he
has the protection provided by this spell-
'Can't he live
somewhere else? I'm sure everyone would be delighted to take him.
Perhaps someone from the order-The Weasleys-'
'Can't provide
him enough protection'
'Remus-'
'You honestly don't
think Remus could live with the child, Minerva?!'
'Kinsley or
Mad Eye'
'Too much away from home.'
'Hagrid-'
Can't
take care of a child, and hasn't got where anyway'
'…Or
me.'
Dumbledore stopped, looking at her stunned.
'You'd
take him?' he asked mildly.
'I would. Do you think I'm
powerful enough?'
'…Yes, you would do…but Minerva, are you
sure you're up to raising a child. I mean, it means a lot of time
and…'
'I will.' She replied shortly.
He passed the baby
to his friend. Harry smiled up at her as she took him in her
arms.
'See you later, my dear.' said Dumbledore. He watched
the woman disappear in the dark. He sighed. Minerva McGonagall was
the most stubborn person he had ever met in his life. And… the look
on her face when little Harry cuddled in her arms…She wasn't the
person, and this wasn't the age to be a mommy,
but…he chuckled and disappeared in a wave of purple robes.
With a faint pop, Minerva McGonagall aparated in front of a large Manor house, somewhere in ...Scotland, in Scotland yes, judging by the wild surroundings, the tartan sofa and the bottles of scotch that were placed on the coffee table. The witch entered her living room and smirked. Indeed, her house didn't look like the place for a little child, and she, a stern, workaholic, and rather fond of drinking, old witch, didn't seem the person to take care of a child. But she sighed, she was the best for the job, rather her than a mad auror, a monster lover half giant, or an old lunatic whose house was littered with sweets of all kinds, and who, in spite of being the greatest wizard of all times, could hardly take care of himself, let alone a child. She smiled at the little boy in her arms. He smiled back and called her 'mommy' she couldn't let him call her mummy, she was not his mother, she couldn't have been, anyway, at her age; Lily was his mother. But...the words...in the mouth of the little child nearly made her cry, oh how she had longed to hear someone call her that, all her life...