"I will not allow you to send him back to those people, Albus." Professor McGonagall stood her ground and stared down the headmaster defiantly. Harry looked at her in surprise and awe, he hadn't expected the old woman to stand up for him, especially not to the headmaster. Harry hadn't known the man for long, but he seemed powerful and he was definitely in a position of power within the school. He could fire the professor without a second thought.

Harry's uncle was particularly fond of firing people. The man would come home and brag about how many people he had let go for their incompetence on a daily basis. Harry remembered one story about how he had let go a mother of three who had missed work due to her child getting ill. Vernon had said she had begged him to keep her job as it was the only way she could feed her family. He told her to get on the dole and that it was no longer his problem. Harry clutched onto the professor's robes - he couldn't let that happen to her.

"Please, professor." Harry pleaded. "It's okay really."

The elder woman turned to him with her brows furrowed. Her steely expression had softened and she knelt down to be at eye level with him. Harry let go of her robes and stepped away. His green eyes met her hazel ones and Harry shot her an imploring look.

"Harry," Her voice sounded strained. "I want what is best for you. That house may offer you protection from the outside world, but it does nothing for what is going on in here." She placed a gentle hand on his chest, right above his heart. "Your parents would be rolling over in their graves if I passed you into those wretched muggles' care once more."

"I don't want you to get hurt because of me." Harry argued. "I can handle being there. At least I know when I'm eleven I'll have a place I can really call home."

"Oh child." The professor's eyes shone bright, but she smiled. "You said you worried you weren't like your parents, but that compassion for others in spite of yourself has Lily written all over it." Harry felt a warm feeling in his chest and he stopped arguing. Professor McGonagall turned back to the headmaster and stretched back to her full height. Her jaw was set in stubborn determination.

"Albus, I will take the boy. I hereby formally renounce my position as a professor of transfiguration and head of Gryffindor house." Her voice was firm, but even. A glow had formed between the pair, but faded quickly. The headmaster let out a sigh, but the twinkle in his eyes had returned. Harry felt his heart beat quickly. Did she really mean it? Was she going to give up everything for him? He wanted to tell her he was too much of a burden to give up so much, but one look at the witch convinced him his words would go without much impact.

"I suppose if I do not acquiesce I will find the Dursleys to have taken in a particular grey tabby cat?" He murmured causing the professor to nod and Harry looked at the two adults in confusion. What did a cat have to do with anything? Aunt Petunia hated cats. She said they were dreadfully dirty creatures. Harry could hardly imagine her allowing one in her home.

"I will pack my things this evening. I assume you have magical guardianship of the boy. I expect the paperwork to be owled to my home in Hogsmede this weekend." She sniffed and wrapped her arm around Harry. He looked up at her in awe. "Come, Harry. I'll show you your new home."

Harry followed the witch to the fireplace where she threw some green powder into the flames causing them to roar and turn emerald. She gripped his hand and led him into the fire. Harry was amazed they were not burning in the fireplace instead it seemed to tickle his feet.

"McGonagall Cottage." She said and Harry's world went black.

When his vision came back, the professor had pulled them from the grate and into a small sitting room. Harry looked around the room curiously. It was decorated in rich mahogany and had an over plumped red sofa sitting on top of a braided rug. There was a fine layer of dust upon everything as if the house had not been disturbed for a long period of time. That couldn't be right if this was her home, right?

"Professor, where are we?" Harry asked, feeling uncertain.

"I am no longer a professor, Harry." She smiled at him, but looked very weary. "You can call me Minerva. This is my home although I imagine we won't be staying here for long."

"Why did you do that?" Harry asked. He looked down at the rug abashedly and let go of her hand. His fists balled up at his sides as his anger began to well back up.

"I thought you would be happy not to return to your relatives." She said wryly and waved her wand a few times. Harry watched as the candles lit themselves and the dust began to disappear.

"I am." Harry replied as the relief of not having to see the Dursleys again washed over him. However, he was still angry that the witch had given up her life at the castle to help him.

"Then what is troubling you so much that you can't even look at me?" Minerva asked pointedly.

"I'm not worth it." Harry mumbled and grit his teeth together. He felt her soft hand grip at his chin forcing him to look up at her.

"You are very much worth it." Minerva's lips pressed firmly together and her eyes seemed to blaze with determination. "I would not have offered something I was unwilling to give."

Harry gaped at her and tried to assess the truth of her words. Minerva had done nothing but give since he met her. What did she want from him? The Dursleys had always told him he was a burden and a charity case. Did she pity him then? He looked into her eyes more deeply and found she was not looking at him as if she felt bad for him, but rather as if… Harry's mind trailed off. It couldn't be possible. This woman hardly knew him, how could she love him? She would probably realize in a couple weeks how much trouble he was and how stupid he was and send him back to his relatives. He broke his gaze and suddenly felt very tired. He rubbed his eyes idly and let out a small involuntary yawn.

"It's been a trying day for both of us." Minerva said and let him go. "It's early, but I reckon a nap would do you a world of good. I'll show you your room."

Harry looked around for the sign of a cupboard or a closet as the witch led him from the sitting room and upstairs. She opened a door and Harry was amazed to find a simply decorated room of blue and beige with a single cot in the middle. He looked up at her in confusion, certainly this couldn't be where she meant to keep him.

"It's not much for now, but it will do." Minerva offered and pulled back the heavy navy duvet for him and gestured for him to get in the bed. Harry stepped forward hesitantly and pulled off his ratty trainers before hopping into the bed. It wasn't as soft as the bed in the headmaster's quarters had been, but it still was much better than what he had been used to at the Dursleys. Suddenly a wave of panic hit him.

"My photobook!" He cried and sat up. "I left it there."

"Shhh." She shushed him and gently pushed him back into the bed. "I will collect your belongings. For now, just get some rest."

Harry settled back in uneasily, but the overwhelming exhaustion won out over his panic. His lids closed heavily and he began to fall into an uneasy sleep. He could feel the blanket being tucked into his sides and his clothes felt different, but his mind slipped away into unconsciousness before he could begin to question the change.

Minerva sighed as she looked at the sleeping little boy and stroked his hair idly. 'The poor lad.' She thought sadly. Minerva had two nephews and two nieces who had occupied this room often during their childhoods for sleepovers with their Auntie Minnie. At seven, none of them would have been so willing to be put to bed in the middle of the morning. However, Harry was a special case. He was so young, but had already been through more than most adults her age.

Her temper at Albus flared again. How dare he try to send the boy back to his relatives after everything they had seen. Blood wards or not, that residence was suitable for no child. She thought of Harry's cousin. The pudgy boy obviously suffered no ill treatment from his parents, but also lacked any consequences for his actions. He would grow up to be a right hooligan and bully just like his father. Minerva could do nothing for him though.

She checked to make sure Harry had fallen completely asleep before getting off the bed silently. Minerva left the door propped open to prevent the boy from feeling too entrapped when he awoke. She went into the kitchen to make some tea and begin writing the several dozen letters she would need to ensure their new arrangement would be successful. It was fortunate her husband had left a large sum of money to her upon his death and that as the Ross family heiress she would be financially secure for some time even without employment.

A tinge of regret hit her as she sipped at the warm cup of tea and began to write. It was unfortunate that she had to give up her place at Hogwarts without so much as a goodbye. She was sure that Albus would be forced to take on her roles himself. Filius would be named Deputy Headmaster, of course. It served Albus right for forcing her hand she thought indignantly.