2. To Tabby's House
A/N: Heh, this one's a bit of an emotional roller coaster for poor Harry. When is it ever not, though? Anyway, enjoy.
When Harry woke up the next morning, a sleek silver tabby was curled up next to him. Two other cats were curled up at the foot of the bed: a white, black, and orange calico and a white long-haired cat. He recognized the two at the foot as belonging to Mrs. Figg, but the silver tabby puzzled him for a moment; until he spotted the markings around the eyes. He smiled and stroked the silver tabby. It woke up and stared at him for a moment before yawning. "Good morning, Professor."
The cat meowed and jumped from the bed to the chair, to be replaced by Professor McGonagall, who was smiling. "Good morning, Harry. How are you feeling?"
"Much better," he replied, stretching and disturbing the two cats at the foot of the bed. Both made sounds of annoyance and, jumping down, stalked out of the room. "I don't think they appreciated that very much."
The professor shook her head. "No, they didn't."
Harry stared at her. "You can understand cats?"
"Of course," she answered, raising an eyebrow. "That _is_ my Animagus form, after all."
Harry considered that for a moment. "You have a point there."
Professor McGonagall fidgeted for a moment before speaking again. "Are you hungry?"
Harry thought for a moment before nodding. "Ravenous, actually."
"Do you think you're strong enough to walk?" she asked, standing and moving to the edge of the bed.
He carefully sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He swayed slightly when he stood up and had to grab Professor McGonagall's arm to steady himself. "A little help might not be a bad idea."
She nodded and let him lean on her arm as they left the bedroom and went downstairs. When they entered the kitchen, Mrs. Figg was already at the stove, cooking. Several cats were lounging around in the kitchen, apparently waiting for tidbits. Harry sank into a chair at the table with a grateful sigh and didn't have long to wait before a plate of food was placed in front of him. Picking up the fork, he began to eat. When he looked up, his plate was clean. "Would you like some more, Harry?"
"Yes, please," he replied, smiling as Mrs. Figg picked up the plate and carried it to the stove to put more food on it. He looked at Professor McGonagall, who was poking at her eggs with her fork. "Are you alright, Professor?"
She looked up at him and smiled faintly. "I'm quite alright, Harry."
He studied her for a moment. This was really his first chance to see her outside of Hogwarts. The glimpse he'd gotten last summer hadn't been much. Her black hair had been pulled back into a braid that almost reached her waist and she wore the same clothes he'd seen her wearing the day before. "Are you sure, Professor?"
Minerva sighed and, setting her fork down, took her glasses off before rubbing her eyes. She then put her glasses back on and regarded him calmly. "I will be. And there's no need for you to call me 'Professor' right now. We're not at Hogwarts."
"What _do_ I call you, then?" he asked as Mrs. Figg set his refilled plate in front of him. "Miss McGonagall?"
"Aunt Minerva will be fine," she told him, and then looked over the tops of her glasses at him. "However, I still expect you to call me Professor when we return to Hogwarts in September."
He stared at her. "You mean, I'm really going to be spending the rest of the summer with you?"
She nodded, appearing slightly puzzled. "Yes, why would I lie to you?"
Tears sprang to his eyes and he blinked them back fiercely. "Thank you, Prof--Aunt Minerva."
"You're welcome," she smiled at him and began to eat.
A sudden thought struck him. "My things--they're at the Dursleys' house."
Minerva shook her head, still smiling. "No, they're not, Harry. I had no intention of letting you be sent back there, so I took the liberty of removing your possessions."
Relief flooded through him. "Thank you, again, Aunt Minerva." A hooting sound interrupted them and a large snowy owl swooped through the open window. "Hedwig!"
She landed gracefully on Harry's arm and the boy stroked her feathers. "She really is quite smart, Harry."
He smiled as she fluttered to one the back of the unoccupied chairs. "Yes, she definitely is."
After a few more minutes, Minerva excused herself so she could go change. Harry watched her go with some anxiety. "Don't worry, Harry. If Min says you can stay with her, she means it."
"Thanks, Mrs. Figg," Harry smiled at the old woman as she began cleaning dishes. "Would you like some help?"
"Not from you, young man," she replied, wagging a finger at him. "You're supposed to be resting. Poppy's orders."
Harry nodded and absently stroked Hedwig. After a few moments, he asked a question that had been bothering him for some time. "How do you two know each other?"
Arabella sighed and turned the water off. She stared out the window for a long time before turning to look at Harry. "I told you last summer that I'm a Squib, Harry, and that's true, though I'd give anything for it to be false." She crossed to the table and sat down with a heavy sigh. "The McGonagall clan is an old one, powerful and respected. They hadn't produced a Squib in over a thousand years." She sighed again. "Until I was born. Min was six at the time and everyone expected me to be just as powerful as Min was turning out to be." She gave Harry a look that was very reminiscent of Minerva's. "You've seen only portion of her power, Harry. There is a reason she's good at what she does." She sighed a third time. "Min has never looked down on me because I'm a Squib and I'm grateful for it. Without her support, I would have given up on the world a long time ago." She shook herself and looked at Harry as if she'd just realized he was there. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling on."
"Very well, Harry, are you ready to go?" Minerva's voice prevented Harry from coming up with a reply.
He got to his feet and swayed for a moment before steadying himself. "Yes, Aunt Minerva." He carefully walked over to join her. She was wearing lightweight green-blue summer dress that fell to her ankles and had a broad white collar. "How are we getting there?"
She held up a book. "By portkey." He shuddered. "I know you don't like them, but Floo powder won't be practical with the condition you're in."
He nodded and smiled wryly. "Yes, Aunt Minerva." She held the book out to him and he took hold of it. "One...two...three." Harry felt a familiar jerk behind his navel and his feet left the ground as Mrs. Figg's kitchen disappeared around them.
* * *
When Minerva and Harry landed in an undignified heap in the middle of the living room floor, three women were waiting for them. One was slightly shorter than Minerva, with gray hair pulled back into a knot at the nape of her neck and large brown eyes. The second was about average height with spiky gray hair and hawk-like yellow eyes. The third was short and plump with flyaway hair and clear blue eyes. Minerva sat up with a wince, rubbing her elbow. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the three women. "What are you three doing here?"
Beside her, Harry sat up, looking rather pale. His eyes widened when he saw the three women. "Madam Pomfrey? Professor Sprout? Madam Hooch?"
"Hello, Harry," Xiomara stepped forward and helped the boy to his feet while Poppy helped Minerva up. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," he replied as she steadied him. "Why are you here?"
"To help you and Minerva," Poppy replied, easing Xiomara out of the way so she could examine Harry. "You seem to have survived the trip here without too much trouble."
Harry gave her a weak smile. "I'm a little tired, though."
"Would you like to take a nap, Harry?" Minerva asked, concerned.
He nodded and leaned on her arm. "That...would be nice."
Minerva nodded and helped him to the guest bedroom. Once he was settled in bed, she pulled several rocks out of her pockets and Transfigured them back into his belongings. "Sleep well, Harry."
"Thanks, Aunt Minerva," Harry murmured as she tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door ajar behind her.
When she returned to the living room, Poppy and Sylvia were perched on the couch while Xiomara was sprawled on her back on the floor. They looked up when she came in. "Did he get any sleep last night?"
Minerva sank into and armchair and tucked her feet up underneath her. "Yes, he slept last night, Poppy. However, it wasn't very restful."
Poppy narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that he was tossing and turning quite a bit as he slept." Minerva sighed and massaged her temples. "I'm afraid the Dursleys have been rather vicious."
Xiomara rolled her eyes. "That's an understatement, Min."
"Hush, 'Mara," Sylvia scolded and turned to Minerva. "Is it true, Min? Are you really going to look after Mr. Potter?"
She nodded, pulling the end of her braid over her shoulder and fidgeting with it. "Yes, Sylvia. His friends will be free to visit, but I think it'd be best if we don't move him around very much this summer. He has enough to deal with at this point."
The other three nodded. Sylvia was the first to leave, followed shortly by Xiomara. Poppy insisted on checking on Harry before leaving herself. Once she had assured herself that Harry was fine, she insisted on examining Minerva. "You were supposed to take things easy this summer, Minerva! After all, it's been less than a month--"
"I know, Poppy," Minerva cut her off quietly. "I just wanted to feel useful."
Poppy sniffed. "Well, you still seem to be fine, though you really should be using that walking stick more often. You're not as young as you once were."
Minerva nodded absently. "Yes, Poppy."
Poppy harrumphed. "I'm sure Albus will be by later." With that, she, too, left.
Left alone, Minerva sank into a chair and, within moments, fell asleep herself, curled up like a cat. She was jerked from her sleep by a loud, sustained scream. Stumbling to her feet, she barreled down the hall to the guest bedroom. Harry, drenched with sweat, was clutching at his forehead as if it was hurting him. "Harry! Harry!"
She rushed to the bed and gathered him into her arms. He slowly calmed down as she rocked him in her arms. Finally, with a gasp, he woke up. He stared at her as if he couldn't identify her for a long moment before recognition dawned. "Aunt Minerva, it's Voldemort. He--he--"
"Shh, Harry, shh," she murmured, stroking his hair. "Calm down before you make yourself sick."
He nodded, burrowing into her, tears slowly trickling down his cheeks. When a long, thin hand touched her shoulder, Minerva looked up to find Albus Dumbledore standing over them, concern in his eyes. She nodded and he carefully perched on the bed beside her, wrapping his arms around both of them. Harry jumped and stared at the Headmaster before burrowing back into Minerva's shoulder. They remained that way until Harry stopped shaking and sat up. "I'm ready to talk now."
"What did you see, Harry?" Albus asked quietly, Minerva's right hand entwined with his left. "Did you see Voldemort?"
Harry nodded, closing his eyes. They snapped open almost immediately, as if what he had dreamed had appeared in his mind's eye. He swallowed hard and took the hand Minerva offered to him, clinging to it as if it was a lifeline. "I have no family left."
Minerva and Albus exchanged looks. Minerva's was puzzled, but Albus only looked resigned. Minerva was the one who asked the question. "What do you mean, Harry?"
"Voldemort killed them." Harry's voice trembled and he took several deep breaths before continuing. "I didn't see what exactly he did to them, only a green flash as he killed them with a single curse." He shuddered and Minerva pulled him into a comforting embrace. His voice was little more than a whisper when he continued. "They may not have treated me all that well, but seeing them die--"
His voice broke and, burying his face in Minerva's shoulder once more, began to sob uncontrollably. Albus moved from where he'd been sitting beside her to sandwich the teenager between them. Together, they held the boy as he grieved for the deaths of the last of his family.
* * *
Several hours later, they had moved to the kitchen, sitting at the round table, each with a mug of tea in front of them. The setting sun leant an orange glow to the room. Harry had yet to say anything more, staring into his mug. Minerva watched him worriedly, tapping the rim of her mug with the tip of one slender finger. Her free hand was entwined with Albus'. Of the three of them, Albus was the only one actually drinking tea. Finally, he spoke. "Harry?"
The green eyes that met his were devoid of emotion. "I'll be fine, Professor." He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. "Not right away, but I will be."
Albus nodded and sipped his tea. Minerva brought up a question that had been niggling at the back of her mind. "Albus, why are you here?"
"I came to check in on you and Harry, Minerva," Albus replied calmly. "Sylvia, Xiomara, and Poppy told me you two had arrived safely, but I wanted to see for myself."
"Thank you, Albus." Minerva smiled up at him wearily.
"You're welcome, Minerva." He returned the smile with one of his own.
After a few silent minutes, Harry spoke up. "What will happen to me now?"
"What do you mean?" Minerva asked, puzzled. "You may stay here if you like. Unless you'd rather go to the Burrow--"
Harry waved his hand. "No, I don't mean that, Aunt Minerva. I meant who's my guardian now that the last of my family is gone?"
"Guardianship is normally given to the next of kin," Albus explained, setting his mug on the table. "When there is no family to look after you, any who wish to look after you will be given a chance to petition for guardianship and you will select your guardian from those who petition."
Harry nodded thoughtfully. After a few moments of silence, he excused himself and returned to his room. Minerva turned to the man sitting beside her. "Albus, you were expecting this, weren't you?"
He nodded his head, his hand tightening around hers. "His mother's blood protects him only so much, Minerva. Once they began treating him as if he was worse than a slave, the protection of his mother's blood began to weaken." Bright blue eyes met dark blue. "In a way, your interference saved him, my dear. If you hadn't stepped in, there's no telling how much longer the protection would have lasted."
Minerva nodded, pushing her now-cold tea away from her. "I'm just so worried, Albus. He'll blame himself for these deaths. He might not be as reckless or...arrogant..." she smiled wryly at the term, remembering the many complaints Severus had made, "as his father, but he has James' tendency to be nobly self-sacrificing."
Albus nodded and lifted her hand to his lips. "Yes, Minerva. I will visit the Burrow first thing in the morning to inform Molly and Arthur of what has happened. I'm sure Ron and Hermione will wish to visit with their friend."
"Thank you, Albus," she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. She hadn't been looking forward to telling the Weasleys about what she had witnessed that summer. After another silence, she spoke again. "What are we going to do now, Albus?"
He sighed. "Harry is perfectly safe here, Minerva. The wards you have around this place are quite strong and will be sufficient until we can put up stronger ones. For now, he needs time to rest and recover."
She nodded. "Yes, Albus."
He sighed again, more deeply this time. "I had best be going now."
She raised her head and looked up at him. "So soon?"
"I'm needed elsewhere right now, my dear," he replied, standing up.
She stood as well, not releasing his hand. "I understand, Albus." She raised her free hand to stroke his cheek. "Stay safe."
He turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand. "I will."
She rose on tiptoe and kissed him. His arms circled her waist as hers rose to wrap around his neck. They held each other close as their love found expression.
* * *
In his room, Harry could hear the murmur of their voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. It didn't really matter to him. His mind was still on what Professor Dumbledore had told him. He would essentially get to pick who his guardian would be. And yet, wasn't that the crux of the problem? Everyone who had looked after him, or _wanted_ to look after him, had died: his parents, Sirius, even the Dursleys. It was only a matter of time before Minerva and the Weasleys were targeted as well. Could he really risk their lives like this? He'd be better off finding somewhere to hole up until term started. At least he wouldn't be risking anyone's life except his own.
He blinked as he realized that the murmur of voices had died away. Wondering what had happened, he left the room. He stopped short on the kitchen threshold, eyes wide. Professor Dumbledore and Minerva were still in the kitchen, but they weren't talking; they were kissing. He tried to make a discrete exit, but the arrival of Hedwig ruined that idea. She swept through the open kitchen window with a screech that startled the two adults into pulling apart, two pairs of eyes searching for the cause of the disturbance. When Minerva's dark eyes landed on Harry, they widened and a dull flush crept into her cheeks. When Professor Dumbledore's bright blue ones landed on the boy as well, a twinkle appeared in their depths. "Well, Mr. Potter, it appears you've discovered our little secret."
A/N: Heh, this one's a bit of an emotional roller coaster for poor Harry. When is it ever not, though? Anyway, enjoy.
When Harry woke up the next morning, a sleek silver tabby was curled up next to him. Two other cats were curled up at the foot of the bed: a white, black, and orange calico and a white long-haired cat. He recognized the two at the foot as belonging to Mrs. Figg, but the silver tabby puzzled him for a moment; until he spotted the markings around the eyes. He smiled and stroked the silver tabby. It woke up and stared at him for a moment before yawning. "Good morning, Professor."
The cat meowed and jumped from the bed to the chair, to be replaced by Professor McGonagall, who was smiling. "Good morning, Harry. How are you feeling?"
"Much better," he replied, stretching and disturbing the two cats at the foot of the bed. Both made sounds of annoyance and, jumping down, stalked out of the room. "I don't think they appreciated that very much."
The professor shook her head. "No, they didn't."
Harry stared at her. "You can understand cats?"
"Of course," she answered, raising an eyebrow. "That _is_ my Animagus form, after all."
Harry considered that for a moment. "You have a point there."
Professor McGonagall fidgeted for a moment before speaking again. "Are you hungry?"
Harry thought for a moment before nodding. "Ravenous, actually."
"Do you think you're strong enough to walk?" she asked, standing and moving to the edge of the bed.
He carefully sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He swayed slightly when he stood up and had to grab Professor McGonagall's arm to steady himself. "A little help might not be a bad idea."
She nodded and let him lean on her arm as they left the bedroom and went downstairs. When they entered the kitchen, Mrs. Figg was already at the stove, cooking. Several cats were lounging around in the kitchen, apparently waiting for tidbits. Harry sank into a chair at the table with a grateful sigh and didn't have long to wait before a plate of food was placed in front of him. Picking up the fork, he began to eat. When he looked up, his plate was clean. "Would you like some more, Harry?"
"Yes, please," he replied, smiling as Mrs. Figg picked up the plate and carried it to the stove to put more food on it. He looked at Professor McGonagall, who was poking at her eggs with her fork. "Are you alright, Professor?"
She looked up at him and smiled faintly. "I'm quite alright, Harry."
He studied her for a moment. This was really his first chance to see her outside of Hogwarts. The glimpse he'd gotten last summer hadn't been much. Her black hair had been pulled back into a braid that almost reached her waist and she wore the same clothes he'd seen her wearing the day before. "Are you sure, Professor?"
Minerva sighed and, setting her fork down, took her glasses off before rubbing her eyes. She then put her glasses back on and regarded him calmly. "I will be. And there's no need for you to call me 'Professor' right now. We're not at Hogwarts."
"What _do_ I call you, then?" he asked as Mrs. Figg set his refilled plate in front of him. "Miss McGonagall?"
"Aunt Minerva will be fine," she told him, and then looked over the tops of her glasses at him. "However, I still expect you to call me Professor when we return to Hogwarts in September."
He stared at her. "You mean, I'm really going to be spending the rest of the summer with you?"
She nodded, appearing slightly puzzled. "Yes, why would I lie to you?"
Tears sprang to his eyes and he blinked them back fiercely. "Thank you, Prof--Aunt Minerva."
"You're welcome," she smiled at him and began to eat.
A sudden thought struck him. "My things--they're at the Dursleys' house."
Minerva shook her head, still smiling. "No, they're not, Harry. I had no intention of letting you be sent back there, so I took the liberty of removing your possessions."
Relief flooded through him. "Thank you, again, Aunt Minerva." A hooting sound interrupted them and a large snowy owl swooped through the open window. "Hedwig!"
She landed gracefully on Harry's arm and the boy stroked her feathers. "She really is quite smart, Harry."
He smiled as she fluttered to one the back of the unoccupied chairs. "Yes, she definitely is."
After a few more minutes, Minerva excused herself so she could go change. Harry watched her go with some anxiety. "Don't worry, Harry. If Min says you can stay with her, she means it."
"Thanks, Mrs. Figg," Harry smiled at the old woman as she began cleaning dishes. "Would you like some help?"
"Not from you, young man," she replied, wagging a finger at him. "You're supposed to be resting. Poppy's orders."
Harry nodded and absently stroked Hedwig. After a few moments, he asked a question that had been bothering him for some time. "How do you two know each other?"
Arabella sighed and turned the water off. She stared out the window for a long time before turning to look at Harry. "I told you last summer that I'm a Squib, Harry, and that's true, though I'd give anything for it to be false." She crossed to the table and sat down with a heavy sigh. "The McGonagall clan is an old one, powerful and respected. They hadn't produced a Squib in over a thousand years." She sighed again. "Until I was born. Min was six at the time and everyone expected me to be just as powerful as Min was turning out to be." She gave Harry a look that was very reminiscent of Minerva's. "You've seen only portion of her power, Harry. There is a reason she's good at what she does." She sighed a third time. "Min has never looked down on me because I'm a Squib and I'm grateful for it. Without her support, I would have given up on the world a long time ago." She shook herself and looked at Harry as if she'd just realized he was there. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling on."
"Very well, Harry, are you ready to go?" Minerva's voice prevented Harry from coming up with a reply.
He got to his feet and swayed for a moment before steadying himself. "Yes, Aunt Minerva." He carefully walked over to join her. She was wearing lightweight green-blue summer dress that fell to her ankles and had a broad white collar. "How are we getting there?"
She held up a book. "By portkey." He shuddered. "I know you don't like them, but Floo powder won't be practical with the condition you're in."
He nodded and smiled wryly. "Yes, Aunt Minerva." She held the book out to him and he took hold of it. "One...two...three." Harry felt a familiar jerk behind his navel and his feet left the ground as Mrs. Figg's kitchen disappeared around them.
* * *
When Minerva and Harry landed in an undignified heap in the middle of the living room floor, three women were waiting for them. One was slightly shorter than Minerva, with gray hair pulled back into a knot at the nape of her neck and large brown eyes. The second was about average height with spiky gray hair and hawk-like yellow eyes. The third was short and plump with flyaway hair and clear blue eyes. Minerva sat up with a wince, rubbing her elbow. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the three women. "What are you three doing here?"
Beside her, Harry sat up, looking rather pale. His eyes widened when he saw the three women. "Madam Pomfrey? Professor Sprout? Madam Hooch?"
"Hello, Harry," Xiomara stepped forward and helped the boy to his feet while Poppy helped Minerva up. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," he replied as she steadied him. "Why are you here?"
"To help you and Minerva," Poppy replied, easing Xiomara out of the way so she could examine Harry. "You seem to have survived the trip here without too much trouble."
Harry gave her a weak smile. "I'm a little tired, though."
"Would you like to take a nap, Harry?" Minerva asked, concerned.
He nodded and leaned on her arm. "That...would be nice."
Minerva nodded and helped him to the guest bedroom. Once he was settled in bed, she pulled several rocks out of her pockets and Transfigured them back into his belongings. "Sleep well, Harry."
"Thanks, Aunt Minerva," Harry murmured as she tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door ajar behind her.
When she returned to the living room, Poppy and Sylvia were perched on the couch while Xiomara was sprawled on her back on the floor. They looked up when she came in. "Did he get any sleep last night?"
Minerva sank into and armchair and tucked her feet up underneath her. "Yes, he slept last night, Poppy. However, it wasn't very restful."
Poppy narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that he was tossing and turning quite a bit as he slept." Minerva sighed and massaged her temples. "I'm afraid the Dursleys have been rather vicious."
Xiomara rolled her eyes. "That's an understatement, Min."
"Hush, 'Mara," Sylvia scolded and turned to Minerva. "Is it true, Min? Are you really going to look after Mr. Potter?"
She nodded, pulling the end of her braid over her shoulder and fidgeting with it. "Yes, Sylvia. His friends will be free to visit, but I think it'd be best if we don't move him around very much this summer. He has enough to deal with at this point."
The other three nodded. Sylvia was the first to leave, followed shortly by Xiomara. Poppy insisted on checking on Harry before leaving herself. Once she had assured herself that Harry was fine, she insisted on examining Minerva. "You were supposed to take things easy this summer, Minerva! After all, it's been less than a month--"
"I know, Poppy," Minerva cut her off quietly. "I just wanted to feel useful."
Poppy sniffed. "Well, you still seem to be fine, though you really should be using that walking stick more often. You're not as young as you once were."
Minerva nodded absently. "Yes, Poppy."
Poppy harrumphed. "I'm sure Albus will be by later." With that, she, too, left.
Left alone, Minerva sank into a chair and, within moments, fell asleep herself, curled up like a cat. She was jerked from her sleep by a loud, sustained scream. Stumbling to her feet, she barreled down the hall to the guest bedroom. Harry, drenched with sweat, was clutching at his forehead as if it was hurting him. "Harry! Harry!"
She rushed to the bed and gathered him into her arms. He slowly calmed down as she rocked him in her arms. Finally, with a gasp, he woke up. He stared at her as if he couldn't identify her for a long moment before recognition dawned. "Aunt Minerva, it's Voldemort. He--he--"
"Shh, Harry, shh," she murmured, stroking his hair. "Calm down before you make yourself sick."
He nodded, burrowing into her, tears slowly trickling down his cheeks. When a long, thin hand touched her shoulder, Minerva looked up to find Albus Dumbledore standing over them, concern in his eyes. She nodded and he carefully perched on the bed beside her, wrapping his arms around both of them. Harry jumped and stared at the Headmaster before burrowing back into Minerva's shoulder. They remained that way until Harry stopped shaking and sat up. "I'm ready to talk now."
"What did you see, Harry?" Albus asked quietly, Minerva's right hand entwined with his left. "Did you see Voldemort?"
Harry nodded, closing his eyes. They snapped open almost immediately, as if what he had dreamed had appeared in his mind's eye. He swallowed hard and took the hand Minerva offered to him, clinging to it as if it was a lifeline. "I have no family left."
Minerva and Albus exchanged looks. Minerva's was puzzled, but Albus only looked resigned. Minerva was the one who asked the question. "What do you mean, Harry?"
"Voldemort killed them." Harry's voice trembled and he took several deep breaths before continuing. "I didn't see what exactly he did to them, only a green flash as he killed them with a single curse." He shuddered and Minerva pulled him into a comforting embrace. His voice was little more than a whisper when he continued. "They may not have treated me all that well, but seeing them die--"
His voice broke and, burying his face in Minerva's shoulder once more, began to sob uncontrollably. Albus moved from where he'd been sitting beside her to sandwich the teenager between them. Together, they held the boy as he grieved for the deaths of the last of his family.
* * *
Several hours later, they had moved to the kitchen, sitting at the round table, each with a mug of tea in front of them. The setting sun leant an orange glow to the room. Harry had yet to say anything more, staring into his mug. Minerva watched him worriedly, tapping the rim of her mug with the tip of one slender finger. Her free hand was entwined with Albus'. Of the three of them, Albus was the only one actually drinking tea. Finally, he spoke. "Harry?"
The green eyes that met his were devoid of emotion. "I'll be fine, Professor." He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. "Not right away, but I will be."
Albus nodded and sipped his tea. Minerva brought up a question that had been niggling at the back of her mind. "Albus, why are you here?"
"I came to check in on you and Harry, Minerva," Albus replied calmly. "Sylvia, Xiomara, and Poppy told me you two had arrived safely, but I wanted to see for myself."
"Thank you, Albus." Minerva smiled up at him wearily.
"You're welcome, Minerva." He returned the smile with one of his own.
After a few silent minutes, Harry spoke up. "What will happen to me now?"
"What do you mean?" Minerva asked, puzzled. "You may stay here if you like. Unless you'd rather go to the Burrow--"
Harry waved his hand. "No, I don't mean that, Aunt Minerva. I meant who's my guardian now that the last of my family is gone?"
"Guardianship is normally given to the next of kin," Albus explained, setting his mug on the table. "When there is no family to look after you, any who wish to look after you will be given a chance to petition for guardianship and you will select your guardian from those who petition."
Harry nodded thoughtfully. After a few moments of silence, he excused himself and returned to his room. Minerva turned to the man sitting beside her. "Albus, you were expecting this, weren't you?"
He nodded his head, his hand tightening around hers. "His mother's blood protects him only so much, Minerva. Once they began treating him as if he was worse than a slave, the protection of his mother's blood began to weaken." Bright blue eyes met dark blue. "In a way, your interference saved him, my dear. If you hadn't stepped in, there's no telling how much longer the protection would have lasted."
Minerva nodded, pushing her now-cold tea away from her. "I'm just so worried, Albus. He'll blame himself for these deaths. He might not be as reckless or...arrogant..." she smiled wryly at the term, remembering the many complaints Severus had made, "as his father, but he has James' tendency to be nobly self-sacrificing."
Albus nodded and lifted her hand to his lips. "Yes, Minerva. I will visit the Burrow first thing in the morning to inform Molly and Arthur of what has happened. I'm sure Ron and Hermione will wish to visit with their friend."
"Thank you, Albus," she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. She hadn't been looking forward to telling the Weasleys about what she had witnessed that summer. After another silence, she spoke again. "What are we going to do now, Albus?"
He sighed. "Harry is perfectly safe here, Minerva. The wards you have around this place are quite strong and will be sufficient until we can put up stronger ones. For now, he needs time to rest and recover."
She nodded. "Yes, Albus."
He sighed again, more deeply this time. "I had best be going now."
She raised her head and looked up at him. "So soon?"
"I'm needed elsewhere right now, my dear," he replied, standing up.
She stood as well, not releasing his hand. "I understand, Albus." She raised her free hand to stroke his cheek. "Stay safe."
He turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand. "I will."
She rose on tiptoe and kissed him. His arms circled her waist as hers rose to wrap around his neck. They held each other close as their love found expression.
* * *
In his room, Harry could hear the murmur of their voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. It didn't really matter to him. His mind was still on what Professor Dumbledore had told him. He would essentially get to pick who his guardian would be. And yet, wasn't that the crux of the problem? Everyone who had looked after him, or _wanted_ to look after him, had died: his parents, Sirius, even the Dursleys. It was only a matter of time before Minerva and the Weasleys were targeted as well. Could he really risk their lives like this? He'd be better off finding somewhere to hole up until term started. At least he wouldn't be risking anyone's life except his own.
He blinked as he realized that the murmur of voices had died away. Wondering what had happened, he left the room. He stopped short on the kitchen threshold, eyes wide. Professor Dumbledore and Minerva were still in the kitchen, but they weren't talking; they were kissing. He tried to make a discrete exit, but the arrival of Hedwig ruined that idea. She swept through the open kitchen window with a screech that startled the two adults into pulling apart, two pairs of eyes searching for the cause of the disturbance. When Minerva's dark eyes landed on Harry, they widened and a dull flush crept into her cheeks. When Professor Dumbledore's bright blue ones landed on the boy as well, a twinkle appeared in their depths. "Well, Mr. Potter, it appears you've discovered our little secret."