/Act 1/
September 2nd 1992
Minerva looked at Denise's intense green eyes. She was a little disappointed that the girl had wound up in Slytherin, but Bridgette had already expressed it as a possibility. After all, it was in her father's blood.
The kids all looked very concerned as she stood there. She knew she was glaring, but the group of kids present were all interesting sorting cases. Ginevra was the first Weasley to be sorted into Slytherin in well over two-hundred years.
Harry was a little less of a surprise when it came to his sorting, he was the son of two very brilliant minds, and lived a good portion of his life having to figure a way to fend for himself. Naturally this would lead to a very cunning individual. It didn't matter how worried Dumbledore might get, so long as he had friends, which was obviously the case, Harry would most definitely be against the Dark Wizards.
"Ms. Tuttle, Ms. Weasley, Mr. Potter, good morning," she said politely. The trio hesitated before each responding with the day's greeting. Their nervousness was blatant and she decided to cut them a little bit of slack. "Professor Snape is inside the Great Hall handing the schedules for your House. I would most definitely recommend going in and getting those from him."
Harry briskly nodded and gave the girls a quick glance before they themselves nodded. They stood there for a moment before Minerva gave all of them a dirty look, urging them to get on with it, after which the children quickly filed into the Great Hall.
Reaching into her cloak, McGonagall noticed she did not have the schedules for the students in her house, so with an aura of confidence and purpose, she began her way to her office.
After crossing the Viaduct Bridge, she encountered Professor Vector frantically darting into her office. It was a little surprising, the short witch was normally very punctual in being in the Great Hall. The past week had been odd in preparation for the influx of students, so Minerva wasn't shocked, only mildly surprised.
She quickly continued through the courtyard, and into her class, and in the back where her office was. Right on the top of her desk sat a small pile of off-white papers that were about the size of muggle flashcards. On each of these was a student's name and their class schedule. All of her first and second year students shared all their classes with their year mates, and it was only 3rd year and above that all the schedules began to mix.
She'd stayed up late enough into the night writing them. Unlike the other three Heads of House, she wrote hers by hand, not using some charm to put it all in place. Granted she had all of 32 students to write a schedule for, so this wasn't that difficult.
Taking a deep breath, entirely for the reason to maintain her stoic expression, McGonagall began her way back to the Great Hall. On her way she noted the time with a quick tempus charm. It was still early enough that most of the students were either in bed or getting up, Harry and his pals were just early risers it seemed.
It was a rather short walk and Minerva had made it to the Great Hall without running into anybody. Inside she saw the Weasley twins giving their sister an odd look. Shuffling through her schedules she found theirs, and approached.
"I hope you aren't going to get angry with your sister for her sorting?" She asked them, coming from behind.
The two boys jumped before Fred responded, "No Professor. We were just contemplating what to say to her."
Minerva nodded, "Something like congratulating her would be a great idea. Remember your Great-Great-Grandmother, Andrea Prewett was a remarkably smart Slytherin, even made Head Girl."
The boys' complexion turned a little pale before George responded, "Sorry, I wasn't aware of that," and failed to elaborate further.
Minerva figured that would be the best she would get anytime in the near future. She handed them their schedules and walked to some of the other students, handing them their schedules as she found them.
Ron was one of the last to come into the Great Hall, and she handed him his schedule just before Hermione came rushing in. She wasn't usually this late to breakfast, but it was a new year and she was probably getting the back-to-school jitters.
"Good morning Miss Granger," said McGonagall as she handed the curly haired witch her schedule.
"Good Morning Professor McGonagall, how are you this morning?" She asked, as she took a quick peek at her schedule.
"I'm well, and I would presume you're somewhere along the same lines?" Minerva said.
Hermione looked up from her schedule with an anxious expression. "More nervous, but yes, excited most definitely." Her eyes darted to something behind McGonagall. "I'm sorry Professor, Sophie is furiously waving, I'd better get going if you wouldn't mind,"
"Don't wait on account of me," McGonagall stated, before waving her off. She made for the last student to get into the Great Hall, which conveniently was Percy Weasley.
Percy had spotted her first, and promptly greeted her. "Good Morning, Professor McGonagall. How are you today?"
"Oh just a bit excited, a new year, and new students to teach," she said as she handed him his schedule. "How did they do last night? I apologise for not being there waiting in the Common Room. Professor Dumbledore needed my input on something."
Percy's eyes showed an interest in what she was referring to but obviously changed his mind and answered her question. "They did pretty well, Ron was a bit upset that our sister wasn't in the group, but altogether there weren't any fights or issues."
Minerva had figured at least one of the Weasley's would have been unhappy with Ginevra's unorthodox sorting.
She gave him a slight nod, "I'd recommend talking to your brother about a bit of your family history, and let your sister inform your parents. The last thing this school needs is a family feud fueling the current House rivalries."
Percy looked confused at the mention of family history before a look of understanding took him, and a nod followed.
Taking this as an adequate answer, Minerva turned around and made her way to the Staff Table. She took her spot on the right hand side of Dumbledore's vacant chair, Severus Snape sitting to her right.
The dark haired wizard was attentively eating his food, a few hotcakes and some links of grilled sausage. He noticed Minerva's eyes and spoke, "I was fully expecting both Harry and Ginevra to be put into your house. Have a clue why they might have been thrown in mine?"
The staff always pretended to be surprised where a student was placed, but it was fairly predictable. "I'm less surprised about Harry, I got the impression he was suited for your house when I picked him up from his family." McGonagall responded, grabbing a few sausage links herself. "My biggest surprise was Ms. Tuttle."
"The opinionated red-haired lass?" Snape asked, "I'm not so sure, what surprises you about her?"
"Her mother was most definitely very Gryffindor, and her father was, too. A very rebellious one at that, you'd know him."
"I can only think of one rebel from my time as a student and I doubt he would have been so shrewd to betray Lily like that." Snape said, anger slipping its way into his voice.
"Oh most definitely not," McGonagall responded, "James was very loyal, and Ms. Tuttle is certainly not a bastard daughter."
Snape ran the list of possible Gryffindors that he went to school with, "Was it one of James' pack?" he asked. The girl looked nothing like any of them, but she was definitely the child of someone he knew well, he just couldn't place who. "Did Pettigrew have a kid?"
Minerva chuckled, which drew the eyes of a few students, before her severe expression returned. "Best not discuss this where we can be overheard, I'll tell you later."
/Act 2/
Unspeakable Ginnungagap sat in his office, feet propped on top of his desk. The mahogany table was devoid of any papers, pens, parchments or quills. He had finished his usual paperwork an hour ago, and was waiting for more to come in. His attention was more focused on his memories of schooling and the children attending Hogwarts. There wasn't a lot he regretted, but he knew he could have been a lot better of a subject and peer.
In his hands he held a novel, some muggle science fiction about an alien craft floating into the solar system. "Rendezvous With Rama," was the title. As he flipped the page a Feline Patronus bounded into the room, Unspeakable Brynhildar's voice coming from the shimmering phantasm.
"Conditions of living for Harry at his Muggle family need investigation, could he potentially be relocated with his year-mates? Worst case, I can take him in, although I feel you and Heimdall would rather house the boy."
Ginnungagap watched the Patronus dissipate into mist and put his book down, sliding a piece of parchment to hold his place. He'd have to speak with his wife. He needed to figure out she would be willing to take in an extra mouth. He would also have to await news regarding his daughter. If he was lucky she'd have made friends with Harry by now.
Wandlessly, he summoned a quill and a strip of parchment, scrawling a quick letter to his daughter, before packing it up and slipping it into his robes.
Standing up, he walked out of his office and summoned his Patronus. "Inform my wife that I'm coming up to discuss custodial matters." The canine patronus dissipated into the wall and he made his way for the elevator. Hitting the lobby button, he slid his mask off his face and put it into his cloak, next to the letter.
After a short ride to the atrium, Heimdall quickly applied his typical glamour charm, his blue eyes turned gree and his black hair paled into a dirty blond.
His identity concealed, he stepped out and saw his owl, Duchess, waiting for him on the little owl perch next to the entrance of the Department of Mysteries. He retrieved the letter from his robes and offered it to the bird, who took one look and took off, parchment grasped firmly in its talons.
The letter to his daughter now sent, Ginnungagap, now under his public identity, Archer, made his way into the atrium. He proceeded across it to the elevator connected to some of the more minor Ministry Departments. The Department of Potions, Herbs and Alchemy, and the Department of Spell Registration, to name a few. His destination was the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts where he would find his wife.
As the elevator climbed to the sixth floor from the atrium, Archer fiddled a bit with his blond hair, putting the long strands into a tight ponytail behind his head. Stroking his chin, the elevator came to a stop, a quick glance upwards to the dial showing the current floor. It was his stop, quick ride, he thought.
With a smirk, he stepped out of the elevator and waved to the secretary that raised her head to meet his eyes. "Oh Mr. Tuttle, your wife is in the meeting room with Mr. Weasley and Ms. Demosthenes."
"Thank you, Ms. Amery. I'll wait until they finish then." Ms. Demosthenes was his wife's new assistant and was on track to take her position when she finished her training to take assistant Head of the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artefacts. The current one was pushing their paperwork for transfer into a different department. Arthur was proving to be a good fit for Head of Department, and it was suspected that Mr. Hirion's transfer from his position was influenced by Weasley's zero tolerance for corruption.
Just as Ms. Amery focused her attention back to the papers she was previously looking over the door to the meeting room down the hall opened and his wife stepped out. Her brown eyes met his and she smiled. She waved her assistant over back towards their desk and whispered something to Arthur before she approached.
"Hey hun, it was a little weird getting a Patronus saying we needed to talk about custody in a meeting." She joked as she gave him a quick hug.
Archer winced, "Don't worry, it's not about ours." He quickly cast a silent and wandless privacy charm. His wife gave him a knowing look.
"I know you want him, but it's early, we have a plan we have to follow." Her voice was soft, trying to ease him out of the idea that was already in his head.
"We'll have to expedite it." Archer stated flatly, "it's an abusive household, the kid deserves way better. I got word from Brynhildr that living conditions were suspicious, we should have checked up more often."
Bridgette's eyes narrowed slightly before she gave a curt nod. "We'll do a memory investigation tomorrow. In the mean time, reach out to Loki. He needs to extend his investigation into Harry as well, in regards to his home. We got lucky, if he'd been sorted into Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw we'd be hurting right now."
"Thank you luv." Archer said, relief now settling on his back, at this point he'd be getting the kid. He paused though before asking the question on his mind. "Do I get to come out of hiding?"
Bridgette stood for a moment, her eyes unfocused slightly as she put extra thought into the subject. "Lets put it up to the will. I'm gonna have you head on over to Gringotts, tell 'em I sent you." She paused once more.
Archer knew that one way or another they were gonna have the kid. "Brynhildr said that she could take him too." He offered.
Bridgette shook her head. "I'm a godparent. Just gotta figure out a way to get that will unlocked. Might have to do it through Harry."
Archer stood for a moment, "I mean, we stick to the plan and I'm out when exactly? Peter decides he wants to show his face?"
Bridgette scowled, "let me think on this a day, I'm assuming you've already gone ahead and sent a letter to Denise?"
Archer winced and gave a nod. "Yeah. It didn't quite say much, just asking her what she got sorted as, since Brynhildr failed to mention it. Also asking if she's met the boy."
Bridgette's features softened slightly. "Ok, why don't you quickly run to Gringotts and see what you can do about the will." She paused before continuing. "I love you, by the way."
Archer gave her a quick hug before nodding. "I know, I love you too. I'll get on my way so you can get back to work."
He quickly dispelled the privacy charm and gave his wife a quick wink before turning around and heading back for the elevator. He hit the Ground Floor button and the cage shuttered closed, and he felt a dropping sensation in his gut.
It didn't take him long to get out of the Ministry and to the Streets of London. The freedom Archer felt in the London streets was slightly exhilarating, however he knew he had a job to do. Quickly he faced westward and began following the streets towards the Leaky Cauldron, entrance of Diagon Alley.
He knew he was dressed a bit odd, but the muggles paid little notice because it wasn't all too rare for a wizard to walk from the ministry to the entrance of Diagon Alley.
As he paced along the path Archer couldn't help but enjoy the crisp air that evening. 'I really didn't get out much' he thought.
As he approached the tavern, truly only a five minute walk, he slipped in, giving the tavern keep a slight nod. It didn't take him but a second to slip out the back door and tap the bricks with his black wand, granting him access to the magical equivalent of a strip mall.
His pace quickened as he fluttered through the Alley, none payed him any mind, he simply fit in.
As he Approached Gringotts he considered for a moment to remove the Charm concealing his true identity, but quickly decided against it. He'd deal with the Goblins bereavement later.
Entering the building, Archer made eye contact with Griphook, as he stood before his lead podium, he didn't have a customer, and the Goblin gave him a slight squint.
He knew they could see through the glamour charm, but he decided to push through and approach. Anxiety starting to build in his back.
"Evening Griphook, pardon the charm, it's for my protection in the streets." Gringotts was essentially an embassy and thus, he was not a wanted criminal on these grounds.
"I'm afraid I cannot allow you into your vault as according to the Treaty of 1718 you are a fugitive."
Archer gave a smile, "I'm here on Unspeakable Business, Here to retrieve the Potters will, on behalf of Unspeakable Heimdall, Denise Tuttle."
This was all stated at a low whisper, Archer himself almost unable to hear what was coming out of his mouth. And he was shuffling his mouth about as he spoke it, preventing any lip reading from others, the old fashioned way.
Griphook considered it for a moment before accepting it. "So be it, I will take you myself. Have you the key?"
Archer retrieved the key from within his robes and handed it to the goblin. Griphook eyed it carefully before leading him to the rackety cart that would Lead to the Potter Family Vault.
It was a quarter hour ride of jostling, violent turns, before they finally arrived. He stood up and left the cart, walked up to vault door and waited for Griphook to approach.
As the goblin did, he pulled a clipboard from within his suit and a quill. "State name, intention."
"Sirius Orion Black, proxy of Bridgette Ross Tuttle. Retrieving Last Will and Testament of James Fleamont Potter and Lily Hoel Potter nee Evans."
Griphook nodded, "you may proceed."
/Act 3/
8th November 1954
Minerva was reviewing her transcript, speculating the paths she could take in life. She was seated in her favourite recliner in her home. Her father was in his own eagerly reading the Quibbler, and an already read Daily Prophet sat on the coffee table beside him. Her mother was flicking through a cookbook her grandmother, and her namesake had left them.
"How's the negotiations with the Burmese and the Japanese sects?" Amalia asked her husband as she looked for the flour in the cupboards.
Edmund laughed lightly, causing Minerva to listen in on the conversation. "It concluded the 2nd, it's just been a matter of convincing the Muggle Governments to finally get around and finish declaring the war over. It's been 9 years since they lost occupation, and conflict has been over for at least 8."
"It's bureaucracy, it was only that they were legally at war, nobody acted like they still were." Minerva added in, earning a nod and grunt of agreement from her father.
"Did you figure out what you wanted to do yet?" Amalia asked as she mixed some eggs into the developing dough.
"The activism in me wants to try and make a difference through the ministry, but I doubt that's a good way to go about it." Minerva mused, moving her eyes back to her grades. "I have the grades, and Merlin knows we can afford for me to do whatever I want with my life."
Edmund looked at his daughter with sadness in his eyes. "You're a smart girl, you just need direction."
"Thanks Dad," Minerva replies, putting her paper down. "I could ask Ollivander to let me learn wandmaking, but I doubt he would."
Edmund thought for a second, took a look at the prophet, and then started flipping through it. "Says there's openings for a Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts now."
Minerva scoffed, "There always is, that position has been open since Dumbledore was promoted to Headmaster."
Despite her antipathy toward the position, she did glance at her NEWT grade, an O. She was certainly qualified to push for the position, but the idea of teaching this early in her career wasn't exactly what she wanted in life.
"Have you seen any open jobs in the Ministry?" She asked, setting her transcript on the coffee table beside her. She could feel frustration building up as she desperately tried figuring out what direction to take her life.
"Auror Department and the Department of Spell Registration…" Edmund lowered the newspaper and looked through his spectacles at his young daughter. "DSR is a great stepping point, you'll make a lot of connections to researchers and professors."
Minerva threw her head back dramatically and groaned. "Am I really slated to become a Professor?"
Amalia chose that moment to step into the room, "perhaps one day you'll surpass even Dumbledore in your teaching, you have it in you." She then raised a hand, a letter was there with blue writing on the front. "In the mean time, Dougal has left you a letter."
Minerva's eyes shot up , her head snapping to face her mother, a smile on her face. This evoked a chuckle from her father. "That boy seems to be a perfect alternative, maybe you should get a muggle equivalency and just leave the wizard if world."
Minerva frowned and shook her head. "I have the feeling I need to stay, I'll put in the application for the Department of Spell Registration, but for now!" She leapt to her feet and snatched the letter from her mother, before darting up to her room. "Thank you!"
Letter in hand, she flung herself upon her bed and ripped the envelope open, and pored over the papers inside.
Dear Minnie,
I hope school went well, by now you should be back right? How were your marks? I'm sorry if you feel this is bombarding but it's been far too long since we've shared correspondence and I know a big portion of that is my fault, I've just been a bit busy between caring for my mum and my own schooling.
Speaking of, she's doing much better. The physician says she needs to keep taking the medication but she's able to get up and around now, and my father will be returning soon, so I'm gonna be looking for a new place to stay.
If you'd like to stop by in the meantime, I'd love to take you out somewhere to eat, my treat. I've been around scouting some restaurants and found a few good spots.
I know you didn't ask, but I guess I should answer the questions I asked you, since this letter feels close to over but it's still so short. I passed all my classes and am ready to attend a uni, but I'm feeling like a trade or internship might be better. I've gotten offers already and the most appealing is a investment firm over in London, they've got a paid internship they're offering and it's a bit better pay than anything I've seen before.
Although I'm not sure how dates will be if I move to London for this, we should discuss it more in person.
I feel like I'm rambling so the show really must go on,
Yours,
Dougal McGregor
Minerva quickly checked the calendar on her wall, she wasn't doing anything today or tomorrow, and if Dougal wanted a date, she definitely wasn't going to reject the idea.
She quickly rummaged through her wardrobe and retrieved some fitting muggle apparel. A shin length floral dress. It wasn't anything especially fancy, but it looked nice. Sh hid her wand in her waist and slipped back to the living room where her father sat reading yet another newspaper, The Guardian it seemed.
Her mother was the first to notice and tsk'ed. "Where are you going Minerva."
She proceeded to roll her eyes, "A date with Dougal, what else?"
"I know you're an adult now, but please do be back by 10 hun." Her father said behind the newspaper. He tilted it down and made eye contact. "I trust you to hex his bits off if he's disrespectful."
Minerva smirked, "of course, I'll be careful." With that she turned back around and was out the door leaving her two parents behind.
"She'll figure out a path," Edmund sighed, "I have a feeling she'll be in history somewhere."
Amalia smiled wistfuly, "she may, and so long as it's good, I will always be proud of how well she's turned out."
A/N: I lied, I haven't hardly started chapter 5, but here's 4 all nice and proofread by my wonderful partner, love her loads.
