Hush-a-by baby
On the tree top,
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks,
The cradle will fall,
Down tumbles baby,
Cradle and all.
~ Eighteenth Century English Nursery Rhyme

'I'm not surprised I didn't recognise her, frankly.'

'Family, you say?' Dumbledore was sceptical. 'I didn't realise you had any such young family, Minerva.'

Turning a withering eye on her employer and former teacher, Minerva McGonagall was not a witch to mess with at the best of times. This was not the best of times. 'Family is not always a matter of blood alone, Albus. Jeanie, Jean, is family.'

'Jean, is it? Do we get a surname? Or is she not to go down in the books for next term? I can't imagine your ward not attending Hogwarts.'

Handing the ledger to the Headmaster, Minerva's voice was steely, 'Her name has already appeared. No addition was necessary. See for yourself, she's to be a seventh year.'

'Miss Jean Granger. Very well, then. She will be joining the Gryffindor house then, I'm guessing.'

'I believe not. I believe my role as her Head of House would conflict severely with my role as her guardian, which I am unashamed to say would take priority given any sort of conflict.'

Dumbledore looked at her over his half-moon spectacles. 'Does a guardian not give discipline as well?'

'Not to a seventeen-year-old girl that has seen more in the past year than most see in a lifetime.'

She had a valid point and Dumbledore's jaw snapped shut. 'What do you propose then? Sort her with the rest of the first years?'

Not in the mood for his snider tones, Minerva McGonagall glared at the Headmaster of Hogwarts for the millionth time since her ward had arrived. 'I suggest we look at the logistics of which house would best be able to accommodate a new female student in the dormitories. The Slytherin female dormitories have ample room, to be certain, but I think we can agree that extenuating circumstances make placing her there a rather unsuitable choice. She suggested Ravenclaw, for the house admittedly, but I'm inclined to agree. Especially as Hufflepuff's seventh year dormitory is already rather close quarters.'

Taking off his spectacles, rubbing his fingers over his temples, Dumbledore nodded weakly. 'We'll have to speak to Professor Flitwick and he'll have to approve, of course, but I foresee no problems there. Miss Granger will stay with you for the summer holidays?'

'Yes. I believe the rest and recovery will do her good.'

'Undoubtedly.' Albus Dumbledore looked up at his colleague, changed from the role of superior. 'Minerva, please tell me if you hear what I have done to earn the young Miss Granger's mistrust. It does not rest easy on my conscience that I have managed to so wrong a young woman who I can never even recall interacting with.'

Softening, for she knew the man before better than most anyone else left alive, Minerva nodded softly. 'Perhaps in two months' time, when she can go through the night without a Dreamless Sleep Potion and not wake up screaming her friends' names, when she can go an entire day without needing a vial of Calming Draught, she will explain it to you herself. Other than that, Albus, all I can say is show her that you are the good man I know you are. Somewhere down there.'

Of course, Minerva would never do kitsch without at least one jab. Smiling weakly, Albus nodded and took her hand between his just as she did the same. Squeezing tightly and looking at the woman carefully, his voice was soft, 'If there is anything I can do. Anything at all. You know where I'll be.'

'Thank you, Albus. Happy hols.'

The door closed quietly before Albus Dumbledore could respond and the man sank down into his chair, eyes on the door to his office as he felt every single one of his wizened years. 'Happy hols, Minerva.'