Okay. This next one shot is going to be in two parts. Maybe three. This takes place in Harry's first year at Christmas. I know it's after Christmas, but I thought I would put it on here just the same!! Please review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nor do I pretend to own anything.

Harry walked quietly down the hallways and corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry looking for Professor McGonagall's office. It was Christmas Day, but the day was nearing its end. Rosy pink and dusty orange sunbeams filtered through the windows, and there was a marvelous sunset on the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. Harry strode with a purpose. He was here with Ron, but that was about it student wise. Ron was busy sharing a Floo conversation with his family. Harry had taken the opportunity to slip away with a wrapped package. He wasn't embarrassed to be giving a gift to his Transfiguration professor, but he wanted to keep it a secret all the same. As he was walking down the various hallways, a voice called out,

"Harry," Harry spun around. There was the Headmaster, smiling, yet at the same time, not entirely happy.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," Dumbledore walked up to him and said, conspiratorially,

"You know Mr. Filch loves a first year out of bed. You're supposed to be back in your common room in under an hour. Might I suggest that if you are trying to get to the kitchens, they are the other way, and you just have to find the portrait with the fruit baskets and,"

"Tickle the pear, sir. I am not off to the kitchens, sir. I had quite enough at the feast,"

"May I inquire as to where you are going?" Harry's face turned red as he extended the wrapped package and mumbled something. Dumbledore had never known Harry to be the mumbling type so he said,

"Sorry, didn't catch that last bit,"

"I was bringing Professor McGonagall a Christmas present, sir," Harry said, looking up into the wise and bespectacled face of his headmaster. At the mention of McGonagall, his eyes seemed to light up but quickly as it came, their sparkle went away. Dumbledore was extremely curious as to why Harry was taking the time to give his Transfiguration professor a gift so he asked,

"Not to pry, Harry, but may I ask why?"

"Well, sir, she's, well, been kind of like, I don't know, a mum or something to me," Harry said, his face turning an even darker shade of red the matched his cable sweater to perfection. Dumbledore nodded, giving Harry the silent prod to keep going, "After all, she gave me Quidditch and I have a feeling my Nim-my broom was from her. And I really try hard in her class even though I don't do so well, and she's my favorite teacher, sir." Dumbledore was amazed that Harry would go out of his way to acknowledge one teacher's contributions so he asked,

"I am sure lots of students feel the same way you do about many of their teachers, but they don't give them gifts. Don't get me wrong, I think it's great you want to give her a gift, but I am still a little confused,"

"She's nice to me, sir." Harry said, giving a little half smile, "she doesn't think I am a waste of space, she values my parents deaths and treats their memories with respect, and she is…fair. I like that she is fair. Sir." Harry added at the end, forgetting he was addressing his headmaster. Dumbledore was floored. This savior to the wizarding world felt unloved, even after school started, and he wanted to thank Minerva for her kindness to him. Dumbledore patted Harry on the back and said,

"That is very kind of you, Harry. You're almost there, in fact. Three more doors down actually. Professor McGonagall may be strict, but you're right, she's fair. And she is capable of great love. A Happy Christmas, Harry," Dumbledore finished and walked away, thinking to himself that he wished he were loved by Minerva McGonagall for more than just her boss, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and the greatest man in the wizarding world crap. He wished she would love him. Not the man who defeated Grindelwald and was number one on the Minister's list of whom to call when situations got sticky. He wanted her to love him for his fascination with Muggle sweets, his love of a nice walk in the rain, his love of all things outlandish in fashion. He wanted to tell her about how much he loved her. Not for Minerva McGonagall, the greatest witch of the age, the one who had been at his side when he had defeated Grindelwald, the short tempered Scottish professor who barked out orders and was obeyed immediately. He wanted her to know he loved her for her love of chess, her softer side when she was alone with him, and her secret love of dancing. He wanted her to know, but he couldn't tell her. Their friendship would disappear in an instant and all would be lost. He knew it.

Harry knocked nervously on Professor McGonagall's door. The door to her office and private quarters, not her classroom door. Her classroom had been unlocked and he had walked up the stairs to her private rooms quietly, trying not to make any noise. The door opened to reveal Minerva McGonagall in an emerald green set of robes, her hair still in its impeccable bun, and her glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. When she saw who her visitor was, she smiled down at him and said,

"A bit late to be asking questions on the Transfiguration essay, Mr. Potter," Harry smiled,

"Actually, I finished it, Professor. All by myself, too. Hermione didn't even help," Here, Minerva let out a chuckle, and said,

"Good for you, Mr. Potter. Now what brings you here," for she didn't see the package Harry held during their little interlude.

"I well…"Harry spluttered, trying to find the proper words to say, "Happy Christmas, Professor," Minerva looked at his extended arms to see a neat package wrapped in brown paper. She looked from the package to Harry's nervous face to the package again. Looking back into Harry's face, she smiled and said,

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. Won't you please come in," Minerva finished, taking the package. Harry followed her inside to a couple of chairs by the fire. She sat in one and he sat in the other facing her. She looked over her spectacles at him,

"I suppose you want me to open this now, Mr. Potter." He nodded. "I will first ask you one question," Now, he looked even more scared. "Why did you get me a gift?" Harry looked down at his feet before looking up and saying,

"Because you're fair, and I love your class, and," Harry stopped.

"Yes,"

"Because you are so nice to me all of the time. And you got me my Nimbus. And you didn't expel me from the only home I've ever had," Harry finished. Minerva felt pity wash over her again, just as every time she looked at the boy and was reminded of what he didn't have. She was touched that he went out of his way to get her something. She looked at his red face and said,

"Thank you very much, Harry." Harry's face broke into a smile with the use of his first name. She gingerly unwrapped the package and opened the box. Inside was one of the most beautiful brooches she had ever seen. It was a lion. A royally red and glittering gold lion. What made her gasp were the lion's eyes. They were the clearest and most beautifully blue sapphires. This immediately sent her thoughts rushing to Albus. She had been in love with him for the last twenty years of her life, and probably more. She wished she could tell him, but she couldn't. She wasn't going to throw her friendship away with Albus for anything. As she looked at the brooch, she looked at Harry and whispered, "It's beautiful. Thank you. I know I'll wear it,"

"I know you always wear brooches with your green robes and I thought you would like the lion because of your house,"

"Our house, Harry." Minerva said, once again surprising him with his first name, "We are both Gryffindors," She stood up and Harry did as well, and he turned to leave. "Where do you think you're going, Mr. Potter?" He spun around. "Come here and give me a hug, or I'll bench you in the match against Slytherin," Harry laughed, and walked over to her. As she stood with her arms around Harry, Minerva willed herself to not cry. As Harry broke away, he said,

"Thank you, Professor. I think that was my favorite gift of all," He turned to leave and stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked to the door. All of a sudden, he ran back to her with his arm outstretched, "I forgot! Ron gave me a box of Chocolate Frogs and I got this in the first one. Good Night, Professor McGonagall," Harry said, giving her a card and walking out the door, closing it behind him quietly.