I own nothing but the plot, and not even all of that.
Just a one-shot of what would happen if Minerva showed the slightest bit of backbone about leaving Harry on a doorstep.
"These people will never understand him!" Professor Minerva McGonagall cried. "He'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future - there will be books written about Harry - every child in our world will know his name!"
"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?" *
"No, Albus!" McGonnagal cried out with a stamp of her foot. "I do not. I do not think he'll be better off with these... these people than with a wizarding family who would love and understand him. The Weasleys, Albus. They would be perfect. You cannot tell me that Molly Weasley would not love to take him in. And I would like to see someone try to hero-worship the boy with her around."
"I'm afraid the Weasleys are ill-equipped to afford another child," Dumbledore said sadly. "They've just had their seventh only a few months ago."
"James and Lily were quite well off," McConnagal argued. "I highly doubt they would have objected to a tiny portion of their gold compensating the Weasleys for taking in their son. Anything to keep him from being left here."
"The Dursleys are the only true family he has left," Dumbledore protested.
"I forbid it," McGonnagal said sternly. "Lily was quite clear about her feelings for her sister, and even clearer about her sister's feelings for her, or lack thereof. There is no doubt in my mind that if we leave Harry Potter here, we will regret it. I will take him in myself before I allow him to be raised by those who would hate him simply for being what he is."
"I'm afraid your duties at Hogwarts would interfere with your ability to raise a small child," Dumbledore said.
The door to #4 Privet Drive opened, and a portly man with a round, red face squinted out. He was wearing a bathrobe and had one hand holding it shut.
"What the devil are you doing on my doorstep at this ungodly hour!" he bellowed.
"I am so sorry that we woke you," Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid we're here to tell you..."
"I gave at the office," the man interrupted.
"I have your nephew," Dumbledore said. "I am very sorry to have to tell you this, but Lily and James, your sister's family, have been murdered."
"Good," the man said with a smile.
"I beg your pardon," Dumbledore said, frowning.
"As for my... nephew, did you say?" Mr Dursley sneered, "chuck him in a bin and get off my doorstep." He slammed the door and locked it. Dumbledore and McGonnagal stared at the door in shocked silence for a moment.
"Perhaps you are right, Minerva," Dumbledore said. "It would not do for young Harry to live here. I will have Hagrid take him to the Burrow. Molly can look after him while we make more permanent arrangements."
"I do not think," McGonnagal said, "even for a moment, that once you've placed a baby in need of a home in Molly Weasley's arms, you will ever be able to pry him from her."
"That is likely an accurate assessment," Dumbledore agreed with a chuckle. Apparition with an infant was far too dangerous to attempt in anything but a dire emergency, so he handed Harry back to Hagrid. The giant man took Harry and cradled him in one massive arm. Hagrid would fly Harry to the Burrow on the motorcycle he had borrowed from Sirius Black.
Minerva McGonagall was relieved that Albus had finally listened to reason. The thought of leaving Harry with these Muggles had her thinking treasonous thoughts for the first time since she'd known the Headmaster. She even had a plan. Minerva was going to return after Dumbledore had left and take in the child herself. It would have been nearly impossible to keep such an action from the Headmaster, and she wasn't sure how it would have ended. Kidnapping a child would most likely have cost her her career and would certainly put her on the wrong side of Albus. She was glad she didn't have to go down that road. She would have done it without hesitation, but it was better to not have had to. Turning back into a cat, Professor McGonnagal trotted off with her tail waving in the air. If she never saw Privet Drive again, it would be too soon.
Some years later...
"Look, there with those redheads!" a man yelled.
"What?" another asked.
"It's the Boy-Who-Lived!" a witch gasped.
"The Boy-Who-Lived? Where?" another hissed.
"Over there! Hey! Harry Potter! Can I have your autograph?" yet another man asked. They all crowded around the red-haired woman with eight children.
"Back away!" the woman yelled, pulling her wand. The crowd paid her no mind and started trying to jostle their way to the small boy with the jet black hair. He was an anomaly in a swarm of redheaded children. He was trying to hide behind the woman as the gawkers reached for him. The crowd shouted questions at him as they tried to get close enough to touch him. The two oldest of the redheaded boys also pulled their wands.
"Do you remember it, Potter? Do you remember how you defeated the Dark Lord?"
"Can I see your scar, Harry?"
"Can I shake your hand?"
Crack! "Ouch!"
One man, who had pushed a very young redheaded girl down in his eagerness to get to Harry, jumped back after being hit by a stinging hex from Molly Weasley's wand. The rest of the crowd stopped trying to push forwards, staring at the wands the Weasley family were pointing at them.
"For Merlin's sake," Mrs Weasley scolded, "get a grip on yourselves! You'd think a family could go shopping in Diagon Alley without being accosted by a gaggle of grown witches and wizards fawning over a five-year-old boy!"
"Sorry, Maam," the man she'd hexed mumbled, rubbing his backside with one hand as he shuffled away from the family.
"Harry Potter is a perfectly normal little boy, thank you very much," Molly yelled, "and he certainly does not need you lot pestering him about something he can't even remember! Now, if you all do not mind, please go about your business and allow us to go about ours."
"Yes, Maam," a man said.
"Sorry, Maam," a witch mumbled.
"Come along, children," Molly said, picking up her young daughter and grabbing Harry by the hand.
"Yes, Mum!"
"Coming, Mum!"
Some years later...
"Ron," Molly said, "what is three plus five?"
"Eight," Ron said with a sigh.
"Very good," Molly praised. She was sitting at the dining room table with Ron, Harry and Ginny. Fred and George were sitting in comfortable chairs in the next room, doing their reading. She kept double-checking that they were actually reading and not goofing off. Ginny was drawing a picture of a bird.
"Harry," she asked, "what is nineteen minus twelve?"
"Um," Harry said, rolling his eyes up as he thought, "seven?"
"Very good," she said, smiling.
"This is boring," Ron complained.
"Hush, Ron," Molly said. "you know that it's very important that you learn all this before going to Hogwarts. Now, tell me what five plus seven is."
Ron didn't get a chance to answer before the door opened, and Mr Weasley came in with Bill, Charlie and Percy.
"Oh," Mrs Weasley exclaimed as she rushed from the table to hug them. Bill, now in his sixth year, was very tall. His hair was long, almost reaching down to the prefect badge he wore on his Hogwarts robes. Charlie, who was in his fourth year, was shorter and stockier. Percy was in his first year at Hogwarts and looked tiny compared to his brothers. Bill carried an owl in a large cage while Charlie balanced a broomstick on his shoulder. Percy had pulled out a large rat that had been stuffed in his pocket and was trying to coax it into a birdcage in the living room.
"Happy Christmas!" Mrs Weasley said as she hugged all three of them at once.
"Happy Christmas!" they replied.
"Bill!" Ginny squealed as she ran from the table to reach her favourite brother.
"Ginny!" Bill said as he scooped her up. "How's my girl?"
"Good," Ginny said. "I missed you."
"How is it there?" Harry asked Percy.
"It's good," Percy answered. "Many people are having trouble with potions, but not me. I'm doing very well in all my classes."
"Ok," Mrs Weasley said to Harry, Ron and Ginny, "clear your work off the table and get washed up for dinner."
"Give me my wand back, Fred!" Charlie yelled.
"I'm not Fred, he is!"
Some years later...
"But Egypt is so far away!" Ginny cried. She was almost eight years old, and her favourite brother was leaving to work in Egypt as an apprentice curse breaker.
"I know," Molly soothed, holding her crying daughter as she sat sobbing on her bed. "Bill will be back as often as he can, though."
"But Charlie will leave next, and then Ron and Harry will go to Hogwarts, and I'll be all alone!" Ginny yelled.
"It's ok, Ginny," Harry said from the doorway, "That's years away, and you'll be with us the year after that."
Harry ran for the room he shared with Ron as Ginny's wails rose in pitch and volume.
"What was that about?" Ron asked. He was lying on his bed reading a quidditch magazine.
"Girls are weird," Harry answered.
"Don't need to tell me that," Ron said, returning his attention to Quiddich Weekly.
Some years later...
"Harry Potter," sneered the blond-haired boy. He and two large, ape-shaped goons had barged into the carriage Harry and Ron had claimed. "I'd heard you got stuck living with a family of blood traitors," the boy said, looking down his nose at Ron. "Red hair and hand me down robes. You must be a Weasley!"
"No manners," Harry answered, "and no concept of subtlety. You must be a Malfoy." Ron snickered, and Draco turned red with rage.
"You'll pay for that, Potter!" Draco yelled.
"No fighting," Percy said from behind Draco.
Draco was about to spout off a reply when he saw the Prefect badge on Percy's robes. Thinking better of it, he stalked off to his own carriage.
Three hours later...
"What's this?" the Sorting Hat whispered in Harry's ear. "Not a Weasley, but not just a Potter anymore, are you?"
"I'm an honorary Weasley," Harry whispered back. "Put me in Griffindor, please."
"An honorary Weasley?" the Hat said, twisted around to look at the group of redheads looking expectantly at Harry from the Gryffindor table. "Oh, I very much doubt that, Mr Potter. You're not just an honorary Weasley. Not anymore. You will join your family in... Gryffindor!"
* - From Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
