2. Rescue
A/N: Many thanks to Ceilita for her assistance with this chapter.
Albus Dumbledore was not having a good day. It had been going fine until he was getting dressed and realized his favorite pair of purple wool socks with shooting stars all over them had a hole in the toe. It was, of course, easily repaired, but it did not bode well for the rest of the day. When he'd gone down to breakfast, he'd been a little put out that Minerva had already left for a day of Christmas shopping with her sister, Arabella. Between Minerva's duties as Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor and Arabella's job keeping an eye on Harry as the boy grew up, this was one of the few times the sisters could spend time together. Still, he'd looked forward to at least seeing her at breakfast.
He'd returned to his office after breakfast in hopes of completing paperwork and answering at least some of his correspondence, but he managed to spill an entire bottle of ink across the paperwork and, in trying to clean it up, set fire to the whole pile. Grumbling, he Vanished the ruined forms and ordered new ones before turning to his pile of correspondence. After attempting to write a response to Cornelius Fudge that didn't insult the man in any way four separate times, Albus abandoned that pursuit in favor of brooding in front of the fire with a cup of hot chocolate. Even that failed to alleviate his bad mood, as it didn't seem as sweet as usual.
Lunch was, without a doubt, the worst. His capricious sleeves, which he normally had no trouble managing, seemed to have a mind of their own. They dragged through every dish imaginable and knocked over glasses, saltcellars, and anything else that could be knocked over. After cleaning up numerous messes and cleaning his sleeves several times, he retreated to his office once more.
Seeking solace in a sherbet lemon, he learned that he had eaten the entirety of his stash already and brooded in front of the fire once more, this time with a cup of tea. He was just contemplating braving the Great Hall for dinner when his fire blazed green and a familiar head appeared. "Minerva! I thought you'd have returned by now?"
"I'm sorry, Albus, but something came up," Minerva replied before quickly filling him in on her afternoon.
He was unhappy with her for taking care of things without consulting him, but he was also proud of her for handling it without losing her temper. "I'm assuming you're at Arabella's right now?"
"Yes, I am." Minerva's head nodded.
Albus nodded back. "Very well, I shall be there shortly. You might want to back away from the fireplace."
"Of course." Minerva's head disappeared with a 'pop'. Moments later, Albus had disappeared in a rush of green flames.
His visit with the Dursleys had gone better than he expected. They'd been suitably cowed by his aura of power and blurted out that they'd decided to dump Harry in the junkyard because they didn't want to raise a 'freak'. When Albus had informed them that Harry was no longer their concern, they'd looked relieved. Until Albus warned them that, if they ever mistreated another child, magical or not, he would hear of it and not hesitate to handle the problem. They'd nodded their understanding and Albus left. When he returned to Arabella's home, he found her pacing her living room anxiously. "Bella, where is Minerva?"
"Harry fainted, Albus," Arabella informed him. "Minerva took him to Hogwarts so Poppy could take care of him."
Albus felt his heart skip a beat at this news, but it did not show on his face. "Thank you, Bella. Harry won't be living with the Dursleys anymore. You don't need to live here any longer."
"Yes, Albus," Arabella nodded.
Giving her a brief hug, he apparated to Hogwarts. Rather than waste time walking, he chose to use his owl Animagus form to get there more quickly. Swooping into the Transfiguration classroom, he resumed his human form and hurried to the hospital wing. He arrived just as Poppy terminated a Diagnostic spell she'd cast over Harry. "Well, Poppy?"
"Albus, you're back," Minerva greeted him with a relieved smile.
Poppy waited until Albus had joined them by the bed before answering his question. "He has acute bronchitis complicated by malnutrition and dehydration. He's also infested with lice and being dirty isn't doing him any favors."
"Why would they mistreat him like this, Albus?" Minerva asked, her face anguished as she stared down at the boy.
Without stopping to think, Albus drew her into a comforting hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "Shh, Minerva, shh. It's all right. He's not going back to them. We'll find someone else to care for him."
"Who you?" Harry's voice caused all three of them to jump and turn to him.
His green eyes widening, he attempted to back away, but Poppy quickly caught him. "You're not going anywhere, Mr. Potter. Not when you're sick."
"Why does that matter?" Harry asked, turning innocent eyes to Poppy.
The three adults exchanged dark looks before Minerva asked, "Harry, how long have you been sick?"
"Since it first snowed," he replied with a shrug, looking from one face to the other.
Minerva carefully sat down on the edge of the bed and Harry immediately drew his legs up to his chest. "When exactly was that, Harry?"
"Dunno." He looked scared. "Please don't hurt me."
Minerva took a deep breath, presumably to keep her temper in check. "We're not going to hurt you for not knowing the answer to a simple question, Harry."
"For sure?" Harry asked, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees.
Minerva nodded as Albus felt his heart twist at the vulnerability in the boy. "For sure, Harry."
"Good." He breathed a sigh of relief and Albus could actually see the boy's muscles relax.
Minerva's smile was sad as she reached out and ruffled the boy's hair. He flinched slightly, but didn't pull away from her touch. "You're in good hands with Poppy, Harry." She gestured to the Healer. "Do as she says and you'll be fine."
"We just want you to get well, my boy," Albus added as Minerva rose from the bed.
Harry looked confused. "Why?"
After answering several more questions from Harry, Albus and Minerva left him in Poppy's expert care to retreat to her rooms, which were closer. Once there, she broke down completely, sobbing into Albus' beard. He maneuvered her over to the overstuffed sofa in front of the fireplace and held her as she cried, rubbing her back soothingly and murmuring nonsense words of comfort in her ear. Eventually, her sobs slowed, and then stopped altogether. "Better?"
"Yes, thank you, Albus." She sat up and pulled out her handkerchief to blow her nose and mop her face (not in that order, though).
He pulled out his own handkerchief and offered it to her. "Here, use mine."
"No, thank you, Albus." She gave him a watery smile before cleaning her handkerchief and tucking it in her pocket.
Without a word, he used his handkerchief to clean the last of her tears from her face. "There."
"Thank you." She looked into the fire as Albus cleaned his handkerchief and tucked it away among his robes.
"You're welcome." He attributed the sudden color in her cheeks to the fire.
After a short silence, Minerva sighed. "How could they treat him like that, Albus? He's such a sweet boy!"
"I really cannot say, Minerva," he answered quietly, suddenly realizing how closely they were sitting, but loathe to move away. "I can assure you that he will not be going back."
She turned to him with a hopeful look. "Who will he be going to, then?"
"I have yet to decide, but he will need to be told about our world before he goes anywhere," he responded thoughtfully.
She clasped her hands together in her lap. "I would like to care for him."
He blinked, surprised. "Pardon?"
"I would like to care for Harry." Her voice was quiet and steady, her dark green eyes meeting his bright blue ones.
He floundered something to say, thrown for a loop by her request. "You don't know the first thing about raising children. What will you do with him when term starts?"
"Really, Albus, I've taken care of my nieces and nephews plenty of times." She was now towering over him, her McGonagall temper coming to the fore. "I will think of something, but think of it from his point of view, Albus." Her voice became intense and her hand motions painted the picture for him. "His previous guardians dumped him in a junkyard and basically told him to curl up and die. Now, he's been rescued and, less than twelve hours later we're discussing whether to foist him off on someone else." Her eyes were fierce when they met his. "Abandoning him just like the Dursleys did."
Albus winced. That last comment had hit him like a blow to his stomach and he took a few moments to gather his wits. "Ah, yes, I quite see your point. You can sit down now." She did so, looking a little sheepish. "If you truly wish to, I can see no reason why you shouldn't take the boy in. However, what will you do with him once term starts and you have classes to teach?"
"As I said, I'll think of something," she answered stubbornly.
His eyes twinkling, he made his offer, "How would you like some assistance?"
"What do you mean?" Minerva asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
He held her hands in his. "I would like to help you care for Harry, Minerva." He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to reply. "Let me explain." She closed her mouth and nodded. "You can look after him when you're not teaching and I will look after him during your classes."
"What if neither of us is available?" she asked, an eyebrow arched questioningly.
He chuckled. "Then I'm sure Poppy wouldn't mind looking after him."
"What about--" she began, but he laid a finger against her lips to stop the question.
"Minerva, I have made my offer. Will you accept it or insist upon doing it yourself?"
She smiled. "I accept, Albus."
"Splendid!" He rose and offered her his hand to help her to her feet. "Shall we go see how he's faring?"
She smiled as she slipped her hand into his. "You used Legilmens on me."
"Never, Minerva." He was suddenly serious, all joking aside. "I would never use it without your permission."
She smiled, stroking his cheek. "I know, Albus. It was a joke."
"Oh, yes, of course." He smiled faintly and offered her his arm. "Shall we?"
She slipped her arm through his without hesitation. "Yes, we shall."
Arm-in-arm, they returned to the hospital wing to see how their new charge was faring.