Minerva McGonagall considered herself an accomplished educator and a gifted disciplinarian. She had no children of her own, instead she considered all of the boys and girls that passed through Gryffindor house over the years, her children. She loved them all dearly and equally. That was until 1971, when four small boys had been sorted into Gryffindor. Those four boys had quickly become her favorite, she'd never show it outside of her own head and heart, but there it was.
Sirius Black, the only lion in a family of snakes, going back centuries. James Potter, a loved and pampered boy who worked his way around every rule with a smile on his face. Peter Pettigrew, the smallest of the four, he was quiet and average. She always wondered what they saw in him, he was nothing like the rest of them. Then, there was Remus Lupin. He was by and far Minerva's favorite of the four. He was bright and clever, always carrying a book in his scarred hands. Over the course of seven years he had never failed an exam and had never been late to class. She could not figure out how he did it.
She knew, of course, about his disease. Dumbledore had shared it with her in hopes that he'd have at least a couple of adults on his side if push came to shove. She loved the boy even more for it. The nights of the full moon were excruciating for him. Even with his friends there with him, she could not see how he had managed all his life with his affliction.
She had found herself, one morning during their fourth year, waiting for her boys in the misty, early morning air. The sky was turning a light purple and the sun made its way lazily up. She had brought along sandwiches and a thermos full of piping hot cocoa, courtesy of the schools house elves. She sat and waited on a fallen tree, just outside the reaches of the brand new whomping willow. She didn't have to wait long. Her boys came barreling out from the opening of the tree, laughing with their arms around each other. She thought they looked rather like brothers in that moment.
Sirius, James, and Peter veered off toward the castle straight away while Remus made his way over to the fallen tree, he hadn't looked up yet and therefore did not notice the stern face of his head of house,he did not see her features soften at the sight of him. Scratched and dirty, dried blood on his legs and wrapped only in a terry cloth robe.
With a flick of her wand she produced a plate for the sandwiches and a large steaming mug of hot cocoa. Placing them on the fallen tree, she sipped hers as though this was an ordinary occurrence. Remus gave a start when he finally noticed her, he sat down, and looked up at her quizzically.
"Eat, Mr. Lupin, there is some hot cocoa there for you as well. I daresay you must be hungry after the night you've had." with that, she sipped her hot cocoa. Neither of them spoke a word. Neither of them needed to. They simply found comfort in each others presence.
This would quickly become Minerva's favorite tradition. Every month, during the full moon, she'd wait outside with some breakfast for her favorite student. Sometimes they would talk, sometimes they'd sit in silence. But, most importantly, Remus treasured these moments. It meant that he had an adult, a mother figure who was not afraid of him, not disgusted by his affliction, she was on his side. That was worth a million galleons to him.