AN: This story takes place after Bare Witness takes place. This story is going to focus much more on Minerva and her experiences, with Harry exploring his friendship with her as well as his past. I absolutely adore Minerva and I am really excited to explore the character more through this fic, and her relationship with Albus.

Please feel free to look back on Bare Witness, as this story begins several years later when a solid friendship has formed between the pair and moves on from there. TW Death, depression, mention of suicide and some light romance/sexual scenes possible.

-MP-

Chapter One- A Summer In July

The weather in late July was its typical humid kind of warm, where the favoured heavy travelling cloaks were no longer appropriate and some wizards had resorted to the occasional item of muggle dress. Desperately trying to fend off the sun's roaring beams from above. For a school child, late July provided a tingle of excitement as the end of the school year was upon them and Harry's children were no exception. Spending their evenings tearing through the house revelling in their free time and relaxation of rules.

Summer had taken on a new meaning for Harry, no longer the sad boy who would force himself to spend another holiday at the Dursley's. A family he hadn't spoken to since they parted ways before that fateful day in May 1998. Instead, he used the summer to spend time with his children, Ginny and various friends. One of these friends being his longest and most dear friend Minerva McGonagall, who he would invite over every summer to spend a few days with his family and most excitingly she was due to arrive in the next few hours.

Since her intervention three years prior she had become instrumental in supporting Harry in his recovery, such as always being available when he was struggling. He could apparate at any time, day, or night, and she would welcome him with a comforting chat and a cup of tea (and occasionally a ginger newt or two!). Thanks to her, Harry had rekindled his relationship with Ginny and his children and eventually when he was well enough, he returned to his position as an Auror at the Ministry.

He had a lot to thank her for, but there is never really a way to pay somebody back for pulling you out of a situation like that. How do you repay somebody who opened their home to you at your lowest point, and did so repeatedly? Ultimately, Harry took a leaf out of Molly Weasley's book and accepted Minerva into the family fully and wholly because that is the least of what she deserved.

As promised, she would come over to spend time with him and Ginny, as well as the children of course. Once they had gotten past the fact she used to be their teacher and Headmistress during her time at Hogwarts before retirement. Harry often wondered whether they thought she could still take house points away during out of school hours. However, the children would quickly recover and frankly they adored spending time with her as she would spoil them at every opportunity.

Harry thought this visit would be no different, Minerva was due to spend the weekend with him and the children and James was due to begin his last year at Hogwarts and was desperate to pick her brains for his Transfiguration NEWT.

The Potter's lived in Godric's Hollow, a small rural village with both muggle and wizarding families alike. There was a long history of both types of family, but that isn't what draws Harry to it. Rather, he felt he could realise his parents dream of raising a family there as their own dreams were so cruelly snatched away from them. The special draw to Godric's Hollow was how far the houses were off the beaten track, so that children could play Quidditch without alarming any of the local muggles. The village was small with just a post office, church, pub, and a few small shops, but to Harry it was home and a way to feel close to his parents.

"James! - Albus! – Lilly!" Harry called; the children were all outside spending their early Friday evening practicing their quidditch skills.

The children rapidly came bustling inside, knocking over the scattered objects on the kitchen table as they peeled through the house like a hurricane.

"Children! You need to watch where you are going!" Ginny shouted after them, replacing the items back onto the table with a quick flick of her wand. Harry couldn't help himself but smirk thinking back to his favourite childhood memories of causing similar trouble at The Burrow.

Harry sat down at the table to read the latest copy of The Daily Prophet, which he had totally forgotten to read amidst the preparations for Minerva's arrival.

"Minera wrote to say she would be arriving with us at about 7." Harry said, leafing through the pages.

Ginny was now at the stove getting ready to prepare tea for them all to eat. "Perfect. I will make her favourite then- a chicken casserole".

Amongst the talking and excitement time had run away from them all, 7pm was going to be upon them soon so Ginny began to plate up the various dishes she had prepared, much to the joy of the children which had trampled in and out of the kitchen several times complaining of various levels of hunger. Ranging from peckish to starving and on the brink of death (that was Albus by the way in case you were wondering).

Shortly after a soft rap sounded from the door, instantly knowing it was Minerva Harry raced to the door shouting the children as he did so. Before he had a chance to open it, he was flanked by all three of his children who peered around the side of him eagerly, their gazes met by a smiling Minerva whose eyes were immediately fixed on the young faces staring up at her.

"Hello you three!" She beamed as she took a step inside whilst Harry locked the door behind her.

She was immediately barraged with questions from the trio which caused Harry to chuckle heartily, all three seemed to have inherited his own penchant for questions which certainly wasn't lost on Minerva, and she made sure to bring it up on more than one occasion in amusement.

Harry shouted to the group that tea was ready, prompting them to all move to the kitchen. Tthe children didn't need to be told twice, as they immediately turned on their heels and raced toward the kitchen leaving Harry and Minerva a moment to be alone.

He welcomed the elderly witch with a hug perhaps squeezing a little tighter than he ought. "It's so good to see you, Minerva."

"Likewise." She responded, taking a step back to remove her travelling cloak and her beaming smile quickly returning. "It's always great to see you."

Harry hung her cloak up with the others and turned back to face her, he could see her nostrils flare as she took a large, deep inhale of the inviting smell drifting from the kitchen. "We should go eat, I bet you are starving." Harry said, motioning her down the corridor.

"You have no idea Potter." Minerva quipped, following him gladly towards that enticing smell of cooked chicken.

After the family had stuffed themselves, Ginny excused herself from the table to get the younger children ready for bed, allowing Harry and Minerva some quality time to catch up. Harry quickly got up and made his way to the sink to clean the dishes, choosing to place his wand down on the side instead and filling the bowl by hand.

Minerva watched him curiously. "You were right Harry, doing some part time teaching at Hogwarts has been wonderful for me. I feel like a new woman!" She mused enthusiastically, emphasising herself with a gesture of her hands.

Harry couldn't help himself but smile. If there is one thing anybody knew about Minerva, it was that she had an unwavering love of teaching and she was bloody good at it. "Well James couldn't have been more thrilled when I told him you were coming back to Hogwarts." Harry added, whilst taking various dishes off the side and scrubbing them with the damp yellow sponge in his left hand.

"Yes, I've taken some of his classes. I have to say Harry he has quite the aptitude for the subject." Her eyebrow arched upward, which Harry observed and thought it was very characteristic of McGonagall, particularly when talking about school matters.

"He does?" Harry questioned in a lower voice not wanting to alert James to their discussion. "He mentions it occasionally… how good is he, exactly?"

Minerva lowered her own voice too but still adopted her traditional stern expression and tone. "Good enough for my advanced tuition timetable."

Harry instantly smiled. "Brilliant… that is really…well brilliant!" He gushed, and he turned back around to finish the last of the dishes.

Feeling confident, Minerva decided to question why Harry was completing household chores without the use of magic as most wizards preferred the convenience of household spells. Still quiet, she broached the subject gently. "So… you're washing up the muggle way?" She asked, attempting to suppress a slight giggle.

He shrugged in reply. "That's just the way I like to do it, I guess." Truthfully, Harry hadn't given his inclination to do household tasks without magic much thought before. It was just a habit he had fallen into over time.

Minerva smiled lightly and turned her attention out of the window, Harry could tell she wasn't angry with him for his choice and took the opportunity to steal a long gaze at his former Transfiguration teacher as her attention remained out of the window. He wondered if it was reminiscence he could see swirling in her deep green eyes or something else.

Harry had noticed recently that lately Minerva seemed more distracted than usual, some of the lines of her face deeper than they had been. He wasn't sure if it was age catching up or a trick of the light, all he knew was that he was keener to keep an eye on her than he was before.

She shook her head as if to pull herself back to the present and turned her attention back to Harry, who had awkwardly turned around trying to hide the fact he had been staring at her just moments prior.

"It's been a long time since I thought about the past or muggle life" She pondered absently, her words growing lighter until they faded to silence.

Harry finished up the night's dishes without turning around to face her, sensing that perhaps Minerva didn't want direct eye contact as she finished her sentence.

"Sometimes when I'm tending the garden, I don't use magic either."

Harry smiled again. He dried his hands and decided to take the seat opposite to Minerva, tucking his wand back into his cloak as he sat.

He looked at Minerva's face and realised she didn't seem sad, there was a light smile there instead, whatever was going on in her mind was more complex that simply happy or sad. Longing or reminiscing. She parted her lips as if to speak, her expression softened toward his own.

"Minerva, this might sound a bit odd, but I do the things like washing up the muggle way to remind myself of where I came from. I might not have been the happiest in their world, but I don't want to lose my connection to it."

Minerva nodded in agreement but didn't elaborate further. Harry had sensed that he wasn't going to be able to press the matter, reminding himself to remember this conversation so he could push her on the subject later.

She let out a long, quiet sigh. Using her hand under her chin to support her head, she was thinking of her childhood, but it was difficult to permit herself to think of it fondly and quickly pushed the idea to the back of her mind.

Then she began to speak in a calm, thoughtful manner. "It's been said that happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if only one remembers to turn on the light." She said it quite plainly, allowing its weight to sit in the air around them. She then stood up and made her way to her sleeping quarters, as she was familiar with them from all of her previous visits, leaving Harry to ruminate on her words at the table.

Harry, who remained where he sat, contemplated her words in his mind, churning them over deeply. They had a strange familiarity to them, he was unsure whether he had heard them before or if somebody made a similar utterance. Even her delivery of them felt familiar. He couldn't quite pin down an exact moment in his thoughts, but he was sure there was something about that sentence which brought him a sense of comfort. Almost like an embrace from a long-lost friend.