A/N: I know the angst is getting a little over cooked, but I promise just a few more chapters and then we'll find a little bit of balance! Harry and Minerva had a few things to catch up on! I had someone comment to me that Harry would already know about his parent being killed on 31st Oct. I understand this but I wanted to make a big deal of it. There is never a moment in any of the books that Harry is seemingly aware of it plus for the 1st 10 years of his life he thought they'd died in a car accident, and who knows what date the Dursley's told him – I had to Google the date and I've only read the books a thousand times. So that's why. A few people have also commented that it's not really following the timeline set by POA, and I totally agree with that, but it's not my fault, it's my muse. It demands something be written and I do it. I did say it may go slightly AU in the first A/N!
Sadly no Ferrari. I have decided that it is unlikely I shall get one now, but I shall continue writing this piece of FanFic simply for pleasure – I therefore do not own anything.
When Harry woke up the next day he knew he was better. He tentatively took a deep breath, and while his ribs were indeed sore from the night before, he found the breathing part to be quite back to normal. He sat up gingerly fumbling to find his glasses on the nightstand and placing them on his face he looked around in awe. His room was amazing. It was decked out in red and gold and there were portraits of what looked like the last three quidditch teams to win the quidditch cup. He smiled as he watched them whiz around the portrait scoring goals and jostling with the other team. Not for the first time he wished he had thought about staying in the rain a little more thoroughly. He looked over to where the light was now shining into the most excellent room and was astounded by what he saw. The view from that window stretched for miles. Beyond the mountains that made up the valley Hogwarts was situated in. He realised that McGonagall's quarters were in the highest tower Hogwarts had, and he just took in the view for a while.
"Beautiful isn't it?" came a small voice from the door. Harry turned to see his professor standing watching him with a small, almost embarrassed smile on her face. "I didn't mean to pry, Mr Potter, I just came to see if you would like some tea? It's lemon and honey, apparently very good for colds, or so I was told by a muggle once." she looked at him expectantly.
"I'll have some tea on one condition," he said causing her to frown slightly pausing her wand movements meant to summon him a cup, "That you please stop calling me Mr Potter when I'm not screaming in agony. I, well I kind of like you calling me just Harry." He said, rather sheepishly inspecting a loose piece of thread in his blanket.
When he looked up McGonagall was wearing a complete smile that lit up her eyes and she moved forward, gathering him into his arms.
"Oh Harry," she said before bursting into tears again. Having a little more energy today he held her right back until she had pulled herself together, "Gosh, I'm sorry Potter, I don't know what has come over me."
"Professor, honestly." He said rolling his eyes. She laughed and he realised that was the first time he'd heard her laugh.
"Sorry, Harry," she said. "I guess I'll just have to work on it. As long as you call me Minerva, are we agreed?" She put on her best stare, but couldn't hold it as he looked up at her. Harry nodded and she produced a cup of tea for him. They sat in silence drinking their tea, Minerva looking out of the window and Harry watching Minerva. He took in everything about her now he was well enough to really look. She seemed different. Softer. Her hair had little wisps that had fallen out of her usually perfect bun and her eyes seemed more alive. As she stared out of the window over the highlands a little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. He was so caught up trying to take in her appearance he didn't realise she'd caught him staring until he looked at her eyes, which he found to be staring back at him. He got lost in them for a moment, remembering the dreams that had plagued his mind for so long. He shook himself slightly remembering the part about Sirius Black, but didn't mention it.
"Sorry, Profess, I mean, Minerva." He said flustered.
"Can I ask what you were looking at, or for?" she said. He studied her features, trying to determine why she wanted to know, but all he found there was a mild curiosity.
"I was just thinking how different you look when you're not out there," he gestured towards the door. "You look, well, less, um, well I mean. Oh I don't know, but I like it," he finished at a rush, his face going a nice shade of pink. He was never one for words but as he glanced towards the great Minerva McGonagall he nearly dropped his teacup in surprise as she also was blushing, except it was a more violent shade of red.
"Ahem, well Mr Potter," she said with emphasis, making him grin, "maybe I just don't feel the need to appear so stern in your presence." She offered smiling at him. He smiled right back and they fell back into silence. He pondered all that had happened, about his parents and Minerva's involvement with his family and everything he had secretly learned last night about Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. He made a mental not to talk to Ron and Hermione as soon as he was allowed, but pushed back those thoughts for now.
"So," he said trying to think of something to say, failing miserably. Minerva smiled and brushed his hair back from his forehead, checking his temperature at the same time.
"So," she replied. "Poppy, Madam Pomfrey has said that as long as you are as well as she expected you to be you may be able to get up, not up and about mind you, but up certainly." She said with a finality in her tone. Harry nodded. He knew what was coming. If he was getting up, that meant he was well enough to go back to his dorm. Usually he would be ecstatic, but right now he liked the idea of staying here.
"I understand Professor," he said, slipping back to her title, "I'll return to my dorm." Glumly he swirled the last remnants of his tea before swallowing it with one gulp.
"What? Harry what are you talking about?" She looked at him puzzled at his change in demeanour.
"I, I thought if I was well enough to get up I was well enough to go back to my dorm room. I'm only here because of the swelling solution," he paused his rambling as he watched her face fall, "aren't I?"
"Mr Potter if you wish to go back to your dorm, there is no-one stopping you." He watched as her professional persona slammed firmly back onto her features. She stood up abruptly and summoned the teacups with her.
"Wait, Professor, I, I don't want to go back, I, well I just thought I was here because there was no room in the hospital wing," Harry said, completely confused as to what was happening.
"You, you don't want to go back?" She turned to him peering at him from behind her spectacles. Harry shrugged.
"No, not right now, unless you want me to go?" Harry felt dizzy, "I think, I think I need to lie down again," he said in a whisper as he tried to focus his eyes. Minerva was by his side in an instant and helped him lay back down again.
"I wanted you here," she said in a whisper, "near me."
"Good," Harry replied, equally hushed so it didn't echo through his head, "Because I want to be here."
She nodded and took his hand in hers; he squeezed it lightly and smiled at her. All the tension that had built up in their little misunderstanding evaporated as quickly as it had developed.
"Prof, I mean, Minerva, could we maybe talk about a few things today?" Harry said after a while. She smiled at him.
"Like what?"
"Um, well I was kind of hoping you would tell me a little about my mother and father?" he said hopefully. She smiled at him.
"As long as Madam Pomfrey says we can I will, okay?" he nodded eagerly and immediately regretted it as his brain seemed to bash against his skull. "And I expect Mr Weasley and Miss Granger would like another visit as well."
"I'd like that too," Harry said with a smile. "What time is it?"
"A quarter past 7, Madam Pomfrey is not expected here until 8."
"Um, I don't suppose there's any chance of breakfast is there? I'm starving." As if it heard him Harry's stomach gave a low rumble, causing Minerva to laugh for the second time that day. Harry tilted his head as he listened to it almost shimmer over everything in the room. Minerva, catching his odd movement stopped and looked at him.
"Harry? Are you quite alright?" She said concern laced with pure curiosity.
"I've never heard you laugh, ever before today, in the whole time I've been here." He said quietly as he looked at her. She blushed a little.
"There was precious little to laugh about, dear boy." Came her sad reply.
"Yes there was. We won the House Cup two years in a row! All of Fred and George's jokes, the giant squid for goodness sake. Minerva, there's always something to laugh about at Hogwarts. I know that sometimes you can feel that there is nothing, that everything is numb, believe me I know," he looked into her face, trying to make her understand. He could not know that she had indeed see his thigh on the first night in the hospital wing and it was breaking her heart, "but Hogwarts is a place of sanctuary, where we can always come back to when things are lost."
"I know dear boy, but some wounds are not healed by sanctuary alone." She clapped hands and a huge plate of bacon and sausages and eggs and toast and tomatoes appeared on Harry's lap. "Eat what you can, I shall get cleaned up, then you will have a shower, because frankly you need one." She smiled as he looked crestfallen, "besides you and I have a lot to talk about." She said with a smirk.
She had made it to the door before his voice stopped her once more.
"Minerva?" he asked quietly, "Hermione's face told me how long you must have stayed with me, and while I don't remember much from the last couple of days, I do remember the immense and at times the excruciating pain, but that always seemed to be accompanied by you and it always made me feel better, cared for. So thank you." She gazed at his face judging his sincerity. Finding it sound she simply nodded and left.
Harry sighed and tucked into his breakfast. She had a lot more guilt than she needed and he wondered why. As far as he was aware she had been honest with him.
And how do you know that is what she looks like when she is honest. A snide voice reminded him in his head. Pushing it to the side he decided that he knew she was honest because she was McGonagall and she'd been there for him, like no-one had ever been there for him, not even Dumbledore.
"A regret which I will carry for life dear boy," the sudden appearance of the headmaster at the door shocked him more than the fact that Dumbledore had guessed, or read his thoughts. It was not the first time he had done it, and Harry figured it would not be the last. "A wise assumption I think Mr Potter." He said, the twinkle in his eye shining brightly. Harry laughed and Dumbledore sat in the chair previously occupied by Minerva. Harry gestured to his plate, silently offering, and the headmaster winked while he obliged, picking up as sausage.
"Are you here for me sir, or both of us?" Harry asked, feeling slightly braver for the food in his stomach. Dumbledore chuckled,
"Both of you, naturally." He replied relishing the sausage he was eating. Harry simply nodded, knowing that it would get him no-where to ask him questions about her.
"Were you as close to my parents as Professor McGonagall was sir?" Harry asked an idea forming in the far reaches of his brain. Dumbledore smiled. He had not expected that question from Harry, and he relished the challenge of a quick mind.
"I was not." He stated, simply, to the point.
"Huh,"
"You wish me to expand on that perhaps?"
"I don't see the harm in telling me whether you were close to my parents Sir." Harry took his headmaster's gaze.
"Some stories are not mine to tell Harry, accept that for what it is and be done with it." Harry finally relinquished his gaze and went back to eating his breakfast. "I will, however, say this, no matter what happens here Harry, you have to go back to your Aunt and Uncles house come the summer holidays at least for a while. My dear boy if I knew of a way around that then I would take it in a heartbeat, regardless of any consequences, however, I cannot." He looked sadly at Harry, knowing that tomorrow this conversation would make sense, for with tomorrow would come one of the hardest discussions Albus Dumbledore would have to face, greater than the discussion on whether Grindelwald was right in assuming power, greater than any Ministry or Wizengamot meeting he'd ever attended. Tomorrow they would broach the subject of Harry's self-harming. And if Dumbledore know anything about Harry, it would not be an easy conversation.
"On the Brightside however, you will get two additional days off your schoolwork before resuming light catch up classes with Professors McGonagall, Lupin and Flitwick. The incident in the corridor between you and Professor Snape with undoubtedly be left to deal with another day. But know this Harry, turning on each other will only heighten Voldemort's power, arguing and bickering with ourselves weakens our resolve. That is why we must overcome our differences." He eyed Harry for a moment, who had the good sense to be a little ashamed of what had transpired in the corridor the other night, before watching the headmaster get up, bumping onto Minerva on the way out.
"Och, Good Morning Albus." She said cheerily kissing him on the cheek. Harry's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. Dumbledore merely chuckled a little before returning the small gesture to his deputy.
"Good morning Minerva, it is good to see the light in your eyes once again dear friend." He said resting a hand on her cheek. Harry watch with a fascination that he couldn't quell. He knew that he should look away, give them some privacy, but he just couldn't, besides the annoying voice in Harry's head said, they're in the doorway of your room.
At that moment the fireplace in the sitting room turned green and the two teachers broke apart.
"Good morning Albus, Minerva." Poppy Pomfrey said cheerily. Harry snorted as he bit into his toast. Evidently EVERYONE had a restful evening last night.
"Morning Poppy," came their replies as Albus walked out of the sitting room down the stairs, preferring to walk the corridors of his most precious school.
"Ah, Mr Potter, you I see are feeling much better." He nodded as he swallowed his toast.
"Thank you Madam Pomfrey, I am." The mediwitch fussed over him for a while, before declaring that Harry could get up and sit in the living room, as long as he literally only walked from the bed, to the bathroom to the sofa, and no-where in between. "I wouldn't dream of it Madam Pomfrey," he said laying on thick for her. They had gotten to know each other fairly well over the last two years and he knew when to push, and when to cave.
"Ha, I wouldn't give me too much of that lip boy, I still have to give Minerva her instructions." Harry smiled at the mediwitch, who smiled back. She turned to the other witch, "Minerva he literally goes from here, to there to there, and not a step further or backward, got it?" he eyed her friend with a practiced gaze, not nearly as hawk like as Minerva's, but still fierce none the less. Minerva chuckled,
"Don't fret Poppy, Harry and I have a lot of catching up to do today, I swear we will be sitting on the couch discussing his history." Poppy simply nodded before leaving them.
"Right," Minerva said walking briskly over to his bed, "you, shower." She instructed, holding out her hands for him to take. He contemplated getting out on his own, he didn't need help, but she held them there regardless, and he was glad she did, because as he stood up, his body protested and his knees gave way causing him to stumble. With an agility one would never have guessed she possessed, Minerva was underneath Harry's arm in no time. He leaned on her gratefully as they made their way to the spacious bathroom. "Um, If you need any help, I could get Remus, urgh, Professor Lupin?" she said quickly as she let him go and he leant on the vanity.
"Thanks, but I'm fine." He said. She nodded, backing out of the bathroom, leaving him to his morning routine.
She stood there for a moment, leaning on the wall. Taking a deep breath she looked around the room, remembering when Lily used it, maybe on weekends, or holidays. She ran her hands over the bookshelves tracing her fingers over the charms textbooks. She wandered into the sitting room not breaking out of her reminiscing. She wandered to the mantel piece and watched the little figurines dancing. Even though in the beginning they had painfully reminded her of Lily, she couldn't bring herself to leave them at her manor, like some of the other things Lily had gotten her. Looking around the room she looked at all the portraits of her family watching her with sad eyes. Her mother's portrait had long since learned not to comment on her daughter's handling of grief. But she couldn't help but smile as she watched her daughter slowly turn all the frames back around to face the front, stopping occasionally to trace her finger along the face that mainly occupied the frames. As Minerva came to the last frame to turn around she couldn't stop the tears and only half-heartedly tried to as she picked up the photo that had meant the most to her. She took a long shuddering breath as she saw it. Herself rocking a little bundle with unruly black hair, gazing down at it with a look of pure happiness on her face, and Lily holding them both from behind, leaning her head on Minerva's also looking down at baby Harry, before placing a kiss on Minerva's cheek and them both looking up and smiling. Minerva managed to place it back on the shelf before she was completely overcome with a grief that she never let herself feel and she dropped to her knees, sobbing deeply, rocking herself as she cried for the terrible loss she felt in her heart.
Harry had finished in the shower when he heard her sobbing. He put on the clothes that appeared on the vanity when the water had been shut off and walked a little unsteadily, but resolutely into the sitting room, finding Minerva sobbing into her hands behind the sofa. For a moment, he stopped stock still, unsure of what to do. Should he get Dumbledore? He looked around the room, wondering if he could even walk that far in his present condition. He by chance caught the eye of a portrait and he realised that this must be Minerva's mother as he looked up at her properly.
"What do I do?" he asked quietly. She smiled gently down at him, and he could see where Minerva got her looks.
"Just hold her dear, that'd bring me wee bairn more joy than anything anyone else could do." She nodded encouragingly. Harry gulped as the student in him thought about holding his professor, but the little boy still present in Harry's heart thought of all the times in the last few days he had felt her arms around him, and heard her sing, and listened to her heartbeat and in a second moved forward, slower than he would have liked in his weakened state and knelt by her, touching her arm gently. Startled she looked up, her face blotched pale for all the crying.
"Oh Harry," she said between sobs, "I miss her so much." She managed to say before breaking down again. Harry gently put pressure on her arm and she leant into him, gripping his jumper and sobbing into his shoulder. He wasn't sure just what to do; all he had to go on was when Hermione tried to provide him comfort over the years, something he was not used to and did not always feel comfortable with. But he wanted to help her after she helped him do much, so he did whatever his instinct told him to, which was to gather her in his arms and rest his cheek on the top of his head patiently waiting for sobs to subside.
