*** I don't own anything relating to Harry Potter. All recognizable characters belong to the original author, JK Rowling.***

Conversation 3: Minerva's Memories.

This was one of the conversations he had never even hinted at to his two friends. It was one he had kept completely to himself all these years but now he was ready to divulge. Harry didn't even know if he'd ever actually include McGonagall in his quest for history. He debated approaching her.

After the war, she became a pivotal part of the reconstruction and her time wasn't always her own. She was now headmistress of Hogwarts and a very public figure. In the end he couldn't get away from the fact that she represented the best source of the information he sought. He once had considered other people to ask these questions to but fate never seemed to work much in his favor. First Sirius, then Lupin. McGonagall was truly one of his last sources he could turn to. Asking the questions he never had time to. He always thought it would be one of the first persons he sough out but life had a funny way of getting in the way. Soon, five years had passed and he'd never had that meeting accomplished. It was five years to the day of that dreadful final battle. He hadn't attended the annual memorial that had been held at Hogwarts grounds since its initiation. He'd attended the first one but the rest, he'd avoided. It was his first time back in some years and seeing everything it brought up so many memories. Vivid ones, more vivid than they had a right to. He could still hear the voices, smell the ruble, feel the raw magic in the air. People didn't seem to approach him as much as he thought they would. They were still very interested in him but something about his stance gave most second thoughts about approaching the hero of the Wizarding World. He'd spent most of the evening close to his friends and his wife but at the moment he was alone. He looked onto another defining feature of the grounds, the white marble grave of Albus Dumbledore. It all came back the same, he had so many question. A voice he hadn't hear approach spoke up then.

"It's hard to believe it's been six years since it was first placed there."

Harry turned, surprised and somewhat caught unawares.

"Time's funny like that," was the only thing he could bring himself to voice.

"How are you doing Harry?" McGonagall asked with her piercing gaze, so similar to his old headmaster. He briefly wondered if it was something acquired upon becoming headmaster of Hogwarts.

"It's getting better," he settled on, he didn't need to lie to her, she perhaps more than most, understood.

"I won't say it gets easier, only that it becomes more bearable."

"I try not to think about it too often and I find I can manage. But then there are times where I do, and it still knocks my breath out," he said now looking at the growing worry lines on her features.

"Have you thought anymore about what we discussed?"

McGonagall had approached him months earlier to ask him to consider a position at Hogwarts. There had been a period during his Auror training where his wounds were still too fresh and the thought of facing them nearly changed his career choice. Surprisingly it hadn't been at the beginning of the training but towards the end, right before he became officially certified. It became too real then but he kept on. She'd wanted him to consider the position of DADA, it'd always been his. She'd had trouble keeping professors in the position. It wasn't cursed as the previous professor had stayed two years, but still, they didn't stick around. Harry had seriously considered it but not for now, maybe when life had afforded him serenity of mind perhaps he could.

"I have, professor, but I can't. I'm not there yet. One day in the distant future, maybe but not at the moment. I don't think I can relive it over and over again yet."

She nodded in understanding knowing all along his answer. She was about to move on to other guests but his words stopped her.

"Actually, I wondered if you had some time to meet with me, Professor," he started.

She look over at Harry with apprehension, wondering what this could be about. "Sure thing Harry, what about, if you don't mind me asking."

"I was just doing a lot of thinking. Seems that's all I do. I guess once I look it over I can't help but notice so many things I still don't know. I was wondering if you'd indulge my questions. They're about the things we never got around to, the things I didn't get the time to ask. The things I thought I'd wait until the fate of our world wasn't on the line. Things that weren't essential in the war but that matter nonetheless."

She looked on considering him. Her gaze hard but understanding. "I imagine you mean about your parents. Outside of their story with Voldemort, aside from their place in the list of casualties?"

He nodded, grateful that she understand without him having to say it out loud.

"I must admit Mr. Potter, I'd expected this conversation much sooner than today but I've been ready nonetheless. I'll have to confirm the date but expect my owl this week." She then gave him a parting hug and moved on.

A week later he was once again before Hogwarts. After the repairs, there had been some remodeling but for the most part, the castle retained its previous charm. He stood at the entrance to the headmasters quarter, exactly as they had been. He knew the password but was silently wondering if he was indeed ready of what lay before him. He'd managed to get in without being noticed, thanks to his trusty cloak that he'd now taken the habit of wearing constantly. It wasn't out of a need to hide but he felt he got more accomplished when using it. People moved faster, didn't stare and mostly treated him as normally as he'd ever get. With a final movement he stepped up and within seconds was once again before the door. A simple knock, a response to enter and he was back again. He quickly noted that the decoration had been changed but not much. His initial glance directed him to the portrait of his old headmaster, there he was, as he'd always been, those half-mooned spectacles and knowing smile. A subtle movement towards the desk caught his eye, professor McGonagall was watching him probably since the moment he'd walked in. She motioned a hand to the seat in front of her desk and he quietly took what was to be his seat for the next hours. There was tea on a nearby table and after accepting had a small saucer and cup waiting to mark the beginning of this conversation.

"Hello Harry, I hope I find you well?" she began courteously.

"A bit anxious but I imagine that won't last."

"I'm ready when you are. What would you like to know?"

"I'm not sure what I want to ask. Mostly I want to know who my parents were. I don't have but one memory of them. I guess I want to know who they were, you were there when they were students. I learned some things about my dad and some general things but I guess what I want is the details. The little things, I want to feel like I know who they were. What were they like in the classroom, their grades, their parents in particular. I don't know anything about who the Potters were or the Evans. Just anything you can remember about them." Harry rambled out, having thought of what he was going to say since he first stepped onto the grounds.

She sat across looking at him, considering his request and trying to call to mind what her ex-pupil sought from her, memories.

"I think I can do better than tell you, I can show you," she said as she stood towards the cabinet where knew the pensieve was still housed. In her desk he now saw the line of flasks that he assumed she'd prepared for this visit.

"Wait professor. I would appreciate to see the memories you have but I can see those at any time. I want to know them through your words, your recollection. I want to know what those who knew them though," he said sheepishly considering it was a strange request. Harry knew what those memories could show, vivid images more so than people could retell verbally but that's no what he sough. He wanted to know them through the people they touched. He had every intention of seeing those memories but at the moment he wanted to know who professor McGonagall knew them as, in her own words, through her own filter.

"Very well Mr. Potter. I think I'll begin with Lily. There have been many students who have graced the halls of Hogwarts for years but as is always the case there are some students who stick out more so than others." Slowly the headmistress' gaze lingered far off recalling his mother and the first meeting. Harry prepared himself for what he was about to hear. He'd let the headmistress recount her memories of the events without interruption or prompting. He already knew some features of who they were but now was his chance to fill in some of the gaps.

"Your mother was one of those talented few. I remember sitting at the staff table as the her class of first years approached. She reminds me much of your friend, Hermione. They were similar, more so than you probably ever considered. As you know your mother was a muggle-born, but by looking at her standing confidently amongst her peers, you'd never guess. She was standing besides her home school friend, who you know as professor Snape. I can see this isn't a surprise so I'll not elaborate on that. She was there, with reddish hair with those piercing green eyes a copy of whose sit before me today. From her stance alone I knew she'd belong to my own house. Her first weeks in my class I was impressed. She was one of the few who had gone ahead and read the textbook as soon as she'd had it in her grasp. Transfiguration wasn't her strong point but nonetheless she excelled at an above average level. She didn't get the needle in that first class as your friend did but certainly not because a lack of trying. She was tenacious, ambitious, and righteous at every turn. She had an interesting group of friends. Naturally there were some from her own house but I was surprised she managed to retain her Slytherin connection until well into her later years. Potions was her forte, and Charms. She only ever got two detentions, and not surprisingly those came after meeting James. She was right-handed. She was intelligent but patient, that which spoke of maturity. She used up the entire period for exams, going over them repeatedly. She never was much a fan of flying or quidditch. She had her worrisome moments mostly due to her heritage. She also had to deal with the name calling but her group of friends were always there to protect her. Everyone who knew her, couldn't help but love her instantly. She had a soft heart for the underdog, often trying to help students who lagged behind. Her gifts weren't her own, it was shared. Naturally when the time came she was a Prefect, then eventually Head Girl."

Professor McGonagall looked over at Harry and hoped he didn't get the wrong impression about who his mother was. "I hope you don't get the impression that she was only a good student, she was so much more Harry. Kind to a fault at times but she also had a rarely tapped into temper. That which was usually directed at your father, she was a force to behold. She was all that Gryffindor stood for, loyalty, bravery, resourcefulness. Dumbledore told me of his first time meeting her and your grandparents. Their names were Margaret and Thomas Evans. I don't know much but from what he told me they were understanding when the time came to explain magic. He told me that much unlike you the revelation of magic didn't come a surprise to her. I gather that had to do with Severus's influence.

"Your father on the other hand was also memorable but for completely different reason's I'm afraid." Here Harry noticed her stance changed. Her kind eyes were now replaced by a patience worn smile. It was clear that James stance through Hogwarts had been no easy task for the staff at Hogwarts.

"From the moment he walked in, there was a definite air of mischief. From what I heard, he'd made friends on his first train ride into Hogwarts, those who would eventually become his best friends. He had a spirit about him, curious and like your mother, I'd wagered on him being in my house. Many of us were surprised that his friend Black joined him in my house table. There were many whispered things said when this was set. Many families like the Black's had a legacy for remaining within Slytherin but with time I realized the rebellious streak in Sirius. There they were, the four of them. Rambunctious he and Sirius, Remus more subdued and Pettigrew tagging along. There were the beginning of what would become the Marauders. It's strange that although their mischief managed was only rivaled by maybe the Weasley twins, I only learned the bulk of their true terror until they were outside these walls. Remus often indulged me when I was curious enough to ask. It is true that James and Sirius were always the closer of the four but they were all truly good friends. Even after what came to light after Hogwarts, whilst in school they were all close. His most common transgressions that I recall were out past curfew and misguided hexes towards fellow classmates. It's safe to say that you inherited much of your Hogwarts days disregard for rules from your father. Although it's safe to say that his adventures were in pure joy seeking and not burdened with saving the world as you often were. His fun was for pure enjoyment, he was a pureblood without the malice and prejudice but magic had always been a great part of him. He'd been told since he was young what awaited him at Hogwarts. In my time as his professor I'm sorry to say I didn't see much of him but when he had to report to me for some trouble making. What I can say is that he did mature over time. Yes, the first few years were filled with exuberance of youth. He had the untroubled and care free childhood he would have wished for you. Yes there was an excess of confidence but that diluted with the years. There was bravery in his actions, unafraid, and very loyal to his friends, much like yourself. He was righteous in his own way, he defended the wronged, a champion for good. Not adverse to throwing hexes but he had a good heart. As he matured these ideas solidified and I wasn't surprised to see him join the Order. He did it not because of your mother's heritage but because that's who he was, a champion of good. Many had suspected of his affections for your mother long before any relationship formed. It was difficult to see how they'd overcome their glaring differences but they did. With their relationship however that signaled the friendship with Severus and you've heard the rest." No matter how much she tried to describe who his parents were, she couldn't get over the fact that these mere words would never be enough to encompass the people they were. They couldn't tell him how they'd be as parents. These were just impressions of who they were as kids, they'd never tell Harry how much they'd loved him as he grew, how much they support, cheer, or console him when the time came. She moved on.

"Your grandparents, the Potter, Harold and Alice, were very indulgent towards him. He was an only child, no entirely uncommon for pure-blooded families. They spoiled him, yes, but they loved him very much. I have no doubt they would have adored you but they had passed soon after your father completed Hogwarts. I'm not familiar with your ancestors but I'm sure you can find further genealogy on them in the Ministry public records. I must say something else about your father because I'm realizing even with words I can't completely make justice of the people I knew. Even though they had a mischief streak about them in their youth, they were brilliant when they put their mind to it. I was truly astonished and fiercely proud when I learned that they had managed to became an animagus whilst in school and without any help."

"More than anything, what I feel when I remember them is unyielding pride. Pride in who they were and who they eventually became. They were good people Harry, not perfect, but good in the only sense that matters. I don't know what else I can say but if you take nothing else of value from our conversation take away that, that they loved and were loved.

As he sat across the headmistress Harry continued looking into his hands. He'd turned his gaze down early in the conversation once the tears began to well up in his eyes. Some of the things he knew but the little things he treasured. He'd long accepted their absence in his life, not having much to remember them by but in those moments he felt a true agonizing hole where his parents should have been. He wasn't angry anymore but a small part of him always wondered what it'd be like with them around. He couldn't imagine it. When he finally found a semblance of inner peace he found his voice.

"Thank you professor, thank you for telling me these things."

"It's no trouble Mr. Potter. I really hope I've been some help for you today. Are there any other questions you had?"

Harry hesitated a moment not sure how his next question would be received.

"Actually I did. It's also something I've always had more questions than answers. It's about Dumbledore." Harry said trying his hardest to ignore the fact that his portrait was a few meters away and completely within hearing distance.

"Oh Harry, I'm not sure how much I can say that you don't already know." Her gaze looked over him with a doleful expression.

"I guess I want some closure on who he was as well. It was only after he died that it became glaringly obvious that I didn't even know the man who had helped me all those years. It felt like all we'd discuss was how to keep me safe in one capacity or other. It was always about me, I never even spared a second thought to the man who I owe my life to."

"I'm sure you've heard this before Harry but don't for a minute doubt it, he loved you."

"But was that only because of my destiny. Because I needed to live to save everyone else."

"He was there because you needed him to be. Harry you need to understand the circumstances of the times. We were truly in a desperate mood with the passing of your parents. You truly had nobody else and it was a fateful miracle that the magic that saved your life afforded you a home with your relatives."

"Did nobody realize what kind of life I was living before I turned 11?"

"Don't think he didn't care for your well being Harry. He never meant for that to happen but we'd agreed to let you live a completely ignorant life until it was time. We didn't anticipate the strong objections to magic your relatives exhibited. During those time your survival was key. We were up against some of the darkest forces that had been seen in a long time. You needed his help Harry. Even with the prophecy in place many people were still afraid. It's difficult to put your survival on the words spoken in a trance by some bespectacled woman in a bar. When Dumbledore really began to understand what he we were up against it nearly broke him. He never shared his findings and I think that knowledge alone belongs to you and your two friends. It happened in the summer after the Chamber of Secrets, I'd never seen Albus like that."

Harry wondered if it was the knowledge of the Horcruxes that had troubled his headmaster that summer.

"Harry you have to understand, Albus was a very private person in personal matters. I didn't know much about him myself outside his role as headmaster. What I can say is that from that year on he dedicated his time to the cause, to researching ways to help you out. He worried for your well being but more so than you imagined. He became extremely concerned during your sixth year, he feared that too many deaths would take a toll on you. He didn't know how you would take the mounting pressures. I know you were frustrated a times with us from withholding information but truly, we thought it was for the best." McGonagall took a small pause before asking a question of her own.

"Are you still angry at him."

At these words he looked up and met her gaze.

"I've never been angry at him, not once I learned the truth. I did go through boughs of frustration but those ebbed with time. I don't think I've truly been angry at him. I just wished I got the opportunity to thank him for everything he did to help me along the way. I never got to say thank you. I feel it was the least I could do for a man who gave his life, him and so many who I never got to give a proper leave to. It's part of the revolving theme around me, unpredicted deaths. I wanted him to know that I never took it for granted, the sacrifices, the wisdom he imparted, just everything. I wanted to say that."

"I'm sure he knew Harry."

"I hope so professor. While I'm at it, I'd like to address you now professor. I know I wasn't the easiest student to traverse these halls. I know I probably could have been a better student. I also know I probably could have broken less rules. I could have done many things differently but one thing that won't change is how grateful I was for having you there. Truly professor, you helped in more ways than I can voice. For all the times I didn't say it, I'll say it now, thank you."

"Harry, that's truly not necessary," she replied with evident tears in her gaze.

"I know you, like Albus have your secrets but if you ever need anyone to talk to Mr. Potter, my office door is always open. I mean that."

With those last words spoken by the headmistress he stood and after a quick goodbye he made his way outside. With vials of memories stored in a small box he reached the door and descended down the staircase, the days events weighing heavily on his mind.

As Harry finished his account of this conversation with McGonagall he noticed the inquiring looks in his friends gazes. Thinking back he spotted several things he hadn't ever mentioned to them. They'd be sure to pick up on the teaching job offer since it was something he never got around to doing. Now, however, wasn't the time to entertain questions. He would eventually but he had to move on to the longest conversations of all of them, the one with Draco Malfoy.