Baby-witch,
my daughter,
my worship of the Goddess
alone
condemns you to the fire

. . .

I wished for you
to be born a daughter
though we know
that daughters
cannot but be

born for burning
like the fatal
tree.

— Erica Jong, "Baby Witch"

Chapter Three

McGonagall nodded in agreement to Dumbledore's words and, holding tighter to the toddler and the covered cage, quickly went up the stairs behind Petunia, the trunks floating silently after her. The Muggle woman led her to a small room, which was full of broken toys. They were all designed for a child of about one, and it amazed Minerva that their son had been able to destroy them, as they were generally made for indestructibility. Still, there were monkeys with arms missing, and a plushy frog without one of its eyes. A little ball meant for filling with shapes and blocks had been cracked in half, and there were several more soft and plastic toys with teeth marks on them.

"Right," she said, turning to Petunia. "Would you like me to vanish these things or move them to another part of the house?"

Petunia looked startled, and then sour, but said grudgingly, "There is room in the garage, if you please."

The Transfiguration Professor, nodded, put down the cat's cage, and swished her wand. Suddenly, the room was completely empty, and the hardwood floors were burnished and cleaned. With a few more graceful flicks, there was instantly a light mint color on the walls, pale purple curtains on the windows, and a green area rug with violet crocuses on it. Minerva hid her smile. Even if Holly couldn't be in their world, she would at least be surrounded by subconscious reminders of it, as purple and green had, since even before the Statute of Secrecy was enacted, been colors witches and wizards wore to symbolize magic to a fellow magical being in the Muggle world.

McGonagall handed the sleeping toddler to Petunia, who accepted her with no small amount of distaste, and then moved her wand in a complicated pattern which ended in a stabbing motion. Suddenly, the room was full of furniture. Against one wall, under the window, a white wood crib sat with purple bedding (it would convert into a bed when Holly got big enough). On the opposite wall, a little bookcase made of the same white wood and a matching wardrobe also now sat. In the corner, a little table with two chairs, all low to the ground and perfect for a child, had taken up residence.

Now that the permanent conjurations were complete, the witch took several steadying breaths (as permanent conjuration was something few witches and wizards could manage easily), and then swished and flicked her wand so that the trunks could empty their contents into the proper places within the rooms. All of Holly's clothes went into the wardrobe, save the robes which remained in the trunk. Her doll and teddy went to the bookcase; along with several Muggle children's books which Minerva had her mother send her from Caithness earlier that day so that Holly might have them. The music box also went in the little bookcase.

The two paintings Minerva had taken from Godric's Hollow went on the walls with permanent sticking charms. One was of a large white sail boat in a harbor, and the other was of a beautiful Holly tree in the middle of a dense forest. Minerva trusted that Holly would like it once she was old enough to understand.

After she was done, Minerva sent both the trunks into the closet, stacking them one atop the other, and put locking charms and Muggle repelling charms on them. She certainly didn't want Petunia to stumble on the magical things contained within, or the very expensive jewelry inside. Once Holly had a wand of her own she would be able to unlock them.

Minerva then took a look around the room, and frowned a bit. With another flick of her wand, she had conjured a little tea set on the low table for Holly to play with, and then, it came to her. With a shake of her head at her own idiocy, she quickly went back into James's trunk and pulled out two pictures from the photo album. They were both Muggle, taken by Lily's mother before she died, and James and Lily were the only occupants of each shot. The first was of their wedding (it looked as though James was wearing a tuxedo, but Minerva knew that it had only been a charm he put on his robes so the Muggles wouldn't wonder why he was wearing a dress), and the second was of James and Lily posing in front of Sirius's motorbike, their arms wrapped around each other, dressed in jumpers and jeans, with Lily obviously pregnant.

She nodded her head. Yes, these would do well indeed. Minerva recast the charms on the trunks, and then quickly conjured frames for the pictures, and the placed one on the book shelf and the other on the wall. Once that was done, the witch cast an Impervius Charm on everything in the room, so that nothing could be damaged. She also cast unbreakable charms as well, and a gentle Muggle Repelling charm on the contents of the room at much less strength than the one she had done on the trunks. It wouldn't prevent Petunia from moving or cleaning something, but it would stop her from taking or removing anything from the room that Holly didn't want to be moved.

"You forgot a changing table for nappies," Petunia said after a long while. The Muggle woman had been watching the proceedings with a mixture of jealousy and curiosity. She had never seen such large scale magic before, and had been slightly in awe of it.

"Holly doesn't need one," Minerva replied. "She has been toilet-trained already. Lily did put a nappy on her at night though, and those are in the dresser."

Petunia's eyebrows shot up to her hairline, but she said nothing, just nodded.

Minerva then took the baby back from her and cast a discreet sticking charm on the green topaz earrings Holly was wearing, knowing they were the type that would grow with the little girl. She knew that she might be being unfair to Petunia, but rather safe than sorry was the way Minerva thought.

Leaning over, she took the covering off of Artemis's cage, and opened the little door so she could explore the room. Petunia looked rather annoyed about the cat, but she said nothing once Minerva provided it with a bed and a scratching post. It was around the time that she finished this that Holly woke up.

The little girl immediately wanted to be put down, and she toddled over to the cat and held her by the collar. Artemis didn't react other than to butt her head into Holly's stomach and purr. Turning her face upward, Holly asked Minerva sweetly, "See Mummy an' Daddy now?"

The Professor went down on her knees and stroked Holly's hair. "No, wee one. Mummy and Daddy have gone to live in heaven. This is your Aunt Petunia." She indicated the Muggle woman with her hand. "You are going to live here with her and your uncle and your cousin now."

Holly cocked her head to the side. "An' Tuney?"

A muffled gasp tore from Petunia's throat, and she stared down at the little girl with an expression of regretful fascination. Her eyes were wide, and Minerva wondered what it was she was seeing when she looked at Holly. The ghost of her sister, perhaps? Or was it that of her mother? Whatever she saw, it gave Petunia's features a haunted cast.

"Come along, Holly," Minerva said, picking her up. "Let's go meet your uncle, and then you can go to sleep."

"An' see Paddy, an' Moony, an' Wormy 'morrow?"

"No, Holly. They can't see you anymore," Minerva answered at the top of the stairs.

"They go 'eaven too?"

"No, they just live far away. You live here now, which is too large a distance for them to travel."

"Oh."

Petunia silently followed the two of them down the stairs, and into the sitting room where Dumbledore was sitting with a very pale Vernon Dursley. Lily's sister crossed to her husband's side, and took his hand. He looked up at her bleakly, "We have to take the girl, Pet. And we have to keep her calm. The magic will happen when she is unhappy or upset. We can keep her calm, can't we?"

"Of course you can," Minerva said, answering for Petunia. "Holly is a very sweet girl."

"I's a good girl," Holly said proudly.

Vernon snapped his head up and took in the sight of the baby. For a moment, he almost looked afraid of her, and then it passed. He shot a frightened look to Dumbledore, and he gave her a weak smile. "Hello, Holly."

"Hello!" she said with a sunny smile. "Who's you?"

"This is your Uncle Vernon. He is married to your aunt," Minerva said.

"Like Mummy an' Daddy?" Holly asked.

Once again, Minerva was amazed at how Holly made connections in her head. She was obviously a very smart little girl. "Yes, Holly. Just like your Mummy and Daddy were."

"Otay," Holly said. She then saw the other occupant of the room and cried, "Bumbabee!"

Dumbledore laughed. Holly tried to get down, so Minerva lowered her to the floor. Once she touched the carpet, she sped off right to the Headmaster. He picked her up and swung her onto his hip. Minerva had never seen him interact with a child so young before Holly and was surprised by how good he was with her. He patiently waited as Holly pointed out all of the shiny things on him, and it was only after she was done that he turned to McGonagall and said, "I think Mr. Dursley and I understand each other now. She will be fine."

Minerva nodded stiffly. "Then shall we go?"

"I suppose so." He looked down at the toddler in his arms and smiled. "Now Holly, we are going to go and you are going to stay with your aunt and uncle. We will see you again when you are much older. Be a good girl."

"Good girl," Holly parroted him, just as she had with Sirius. Once Dumbledore put her down, she waved a hand at him and said, "Bye-bye."

"Goodbye, Holly."

A few moments later, the two magical educators finally left Privet Drive under the cover of darkness. Minerva felt unaccountably sad, and she imagined Albus felt the same way. Though Holly seemed subdued when they left, she didn't exhibit any fear about being left with strangers. She just hoped that they had warned the Dursleys thoroughly enough that she would be safe and well cared for, if not loved.

"Albus," she began, once they turned the corner onto Wisteria Walk, "What was it you said to that Dursley man to make him so agreeable in the end?"

"Nothing more or less than the truth, my dear Professor," Dumbledore said, his voice darkening slightly. "I told him exactly what happens to magical children who feel threatened."

The ghost of his sister ever at Albus's back went unremarked by Minerva.

The portraits in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts looked down at the occupants of the room with avid curiosity. In one chair, the new Potions master was leaning forward, his arms braced on his legs, and his face a study in abject misery. Standing over him was Dumbledore, who watched the man with a grave face. The two of them could not be seen at a greater contrast, Dumbledore in bright colors, and Snape in stark black.

"I thought you were going to keep her safe," Snape gasped out, sounding like a wounded animal.

"She and James put their faith in the wrong person. Rather like you, Severus," Dumbledore said. He only allowed his thoughts a brief moment to flicker to Sirius Black. He would be dealt with, Dumbledore would see to it. "Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?"

The Potions Professor breathed rather shallowly, swallowing convulsively.

"Her daughter survives," Dumbledore said. When he received no response, he said louder, "Her daughter lives. She is the exact replica of Lily, from her red hair to her heart-shaped face. You remember Lily Evan's delicate features, I am sure?"

"Don't!" Snape yelled. "She's gone, dead..."

"Is this remorse, Severus?" Dumbledore asked coolly, feeling little pity for the Death Eater seated before him. The man had made his own choices and had been hoping to the last that his master would save Lily.

"I wish...I wish I were dead."

"And what use would that be to anyone?" Dumbledore asked, his voice dropping even further in temperature. It had been a long day, and he was rather sick of people in general now. All he wanted was to sleep for the first time in seventy-two hours, and yet there was still work to be done. Despite all the people celebrating, the Dark Lord would return and when he did, Albus did not intend for Snape to be the loose end upon which he built his victory. This had to be handled carefully. Looking at the younger man, he said, "If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."

"What...what do you mean?"

"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's daughter."

"She does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—"

"The Dark Lord will return, and Holly Potter will be in terrible danger when he does."

It took a long moment, but Snape finally said, "Very well. Very well. But never—never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear...especially Potter's daughter...I want your word!"

"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?" Dumbledore sighed. "If you insist, of course you have my word."

Snape nodded in relief. "What is to become of the girl now?"

"I prefer not to share that information with anyone," Dumbledore said. "Her safety depends on her anonymity. No one can know where she is."

"She was here earlier," Snape said suddenly, eyeing Dumbledore keenly. "The students were speaking of it."

Dumbledore met his gaze calmly. "A mere stopgap until she could be moved to her new home." The Headmaster did not like the face of Severus in that moment. He had a lean and hungry look, and was obviously thinking and trying to determine the information that he needed to know. Dumbledore realized only then the wisdom in never letting Severus have too much information about Holly's whereabouts. Snape might no longer be a supporter of Lord Voldemort, but his habit of collecting information like a spider catches its prey was far too ingrained now. Severus Snape would become dangerous once more were he not watched closely.

"She will be as arrogant as her father," Severus announced, getting up from his chair to leave the room.

"Perhaps, perhaps not."

At the door, with his hand on the knob, Snape turned back and looked at the Headmaster once more. "She looks just like her mother, you say?"

The look on Severus's face was unreadable, but Dumbledore gave a wary nod all the same. Once the man was gone, the venerable Professor wondered if he had not just done something that would come back to hurt them all very dearly one day.

Hissing and snapping could be heard in the hearth of the Transfiguration Professor's office. The fire was high, greedily licking at the logs that had just been put on it. Elsewhere, it seemed as though every member of the Wizarding world was celebrating. All of the individual houses of Hogwarts were in their common rooms, full of good cheer and raucous partying. Most of the Professors had departed to be with their families, except the heads of houses and Minerva.

Oh, she supposed that she could have walked down to see her brother Malcolm and his family in Hogsmeade, or apparated to Inverness to visit Robert and his brood. She even could have gone home to Halladale in Caithness and visited her mother and father. Every member of her family would have been happy to see her, and eager for her to join in the festivities, but she didn't feel much like celebrating.

It wasn't so thrilling that You-Know-Who was gone, when it had come at the expense of James and Lily. James Potter she had always quietly adored, but getting to know Lily these past few months...Minerva truly had lost a friend.

No one could have been more surprised than Minerva when Lily Evans Potter had reached out to her after the death of Marlene McKinnon. Raising a child in the Wizarding World was always a challenge, but when it was without friends of ones own, it could be down right wretched. In a way, it did make sense. All of Lily's friends had died by that point. Mary Macdonald had died almost immediately after Hogwarts in a raid in Diagon Alley. Dorcas Meadowes by Voldemort's hand a week before Marlene, and then finally the McKinnon family, and with them, Lily's last friend. Oh, she had been friendly enough with Alice Longbottom and Emmeline Vance, but she only knew them from the Order, and they had both been at least a decade older than her, quite busy with their own lives.

McGonagall knew that she had been seen as safe by Lily, someone the young witch could ask her questions to about women in the wizarding world, without being thought dumb by pure-bloods who knew such things instinctively. The half-blood Transfiguration Professor had been someone who could understand her. Who knew, like Lily Potter, about having ties in both worlds, and this understanding had created a strong bond of friendship between the women.

So, no, Minerva didn't feel like celebrating. She wanted to cry, but she was quite certain she had forgotten how.

The fireplace roared to life, green flames shooting high into the hearth, and out stepped Elphinstone Urquart. Minerva tensed instinctively, but relaxed when she saw who it was. Phin Urquart had been her boss when she worked for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and her friend in the years following. He was a tall, robust Scotsman with a full head of white hair, black eyebrows and mustache, and a grey beard trimmed close to his face. His sharp features were very handsome, except when they were pinched with displeasure as they were in that moment.

"There you are," he said, with some annoyance in his tone. "I have been floo-calling all day, and you never answered. I've been checking back every hour until I finally saw you were in your office. For all that's holy, woman, are you trying to send me to an early grave?"

Minerva looked up at his kind face, looking at her with such concern, that the wall which she had felt steadily building around her heart crumbled to pieces. With a muffled sob, she threw back her chair and rushed forward and fell into Phin's arms.

Immediately, he held her tightly, making soothing noises in his throat as she cried. One of his large hands rubbed up and down her back in a soothing motion, and he softly said, "There, there." Her emotions seemed to wring from her, tears falling long after she would have stopped them if she could. But it was just too much. Too much death, too much wasted life. She longed to go back to her childhood in the Highlands, before she had ever heard the name Lord Voldemort.

When Minerva stepped back, she felt mortified. Never had she been so close to him before—though he would have liked to be, considering how many times he had proposed marriage to her. Under normal circumstances she would have gone rigid, and shied away from him, but he didn't give her the opportunity.

Phin tilted up her chin, wiping her face with his handkerchief, and asked, "There now, what's all this about, hmm?"

All of the sudden, Minerva was tired of keeping herself apart. She was tired of being alone, of watching everyone else move on and live, and feeling like she was the only one stuck in one place. She was tired of rejecting Phin, who seemed to love her so much, and though she reciprocated it, she hadn't been able to let go of her love from childhood, Dougal McGregor. But the Muggle farmer was dead now, and Phin was here, looking at her with eyes full of such pure love and understanding.

So she told him everything. Out came the story of the Order of the Phoenix, and how they had been fighting for the past ten years to stop Voldemort, and how little progress they ever made. Minerva mentioned all the deaths, and how many young lives had been cut short, people who were more than just names and obituaries in the Daily Prophet to her. She told him about Dougal, and how she had refused to relive her mother's life and give up magic for a Muggle man. And then she spoke of Lily and James, and poor little Holly, who she had grown to care so much for, even in the short time that the child had been in her charge. So much tumbled out of her mouth, that by the time she was done, she was rather parched.

Once she was finished speaking, he pressed a glass of water into her hand. "Here, brave heart. Drink, you'll feel better."

Minerva did, and all the while she watched Phin's face. She examined his features and eyes, but where she expected to see anger for all the secrets she had kept, all she was acceptance. There was no censure, no judgment. Just love. Once she put the water glass down, she reached out instinctively for his hand, and he happily met her, twining their fingers together.

"Can you ever forgive me for all the secrets and lies?" she asked, lowly.

He looked confused for a moment, and then smiled. "From what you said, it sounds as though much of what you kept secret was for my own protection. As Deputy Head of the DMLE, it would have been hard for me to turn a blind eye to the goings on of the Order was I informed about them. Though, I have to tell you, I long suspected that you were involved with them."

"You did?" She felt shocked.

He nodded. "It made you happy to be doing something, so I said nothing." His dark blue eyes then met her own green ones and he held her gaze steadily. "Nothing you have done, or could ever do, would change my feelings for you, Minerva. I love you; I always have, even when you were that young filly who seemed determined to take the Ministry by storm, but became so sad when you thought no one was looking. I was too old for you then, as I am for you now, but I have never loved another and that will not change. I have said it before, and I will say it again: I will wait for you as long as it takes."

"Then, about Dougal," she said tentatively. "You don't mind?"

He gave her a little smile. "I have often supposed that a broken heart ailed you, but it wasn't something that I was willing to allow me to be deterred from winning your hand once you were ready again."

"Phin..." she said softly, her voice full of longing. Minerva turned her face up to meet his and smiled. "Ask me again."

A beaming smile broke across his face, and softened the traces of age which had begun to creep in. Taking her hand, he pressed a kiss to the knuckles, and said, "Minerva Isobel McGonagall, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"

"Yes," she whispered, her heart full.

The moment he kissed her for the first time, she wondered why she had been so slow to see that perfect happiness had been in front of her face for so long.