Prologue:
(November 1st 1981, Late Evening, Number Four Privet Drive)
When she had woken in the early hours of the morning that day, to an onslaught of rumors and crazy talk about Voldemort being mysteriously gone, that he had disappeared after supposedly killing Lily and James Potter, and then somehow failing to kill little Harry Potter, a mere baby, less than a year old, her first instinct had been plain incredulity. But the entire world was buzzing with it, people were celebrating and throwing caution to the wind, and people seemed to have completely forgotten they had been in a state of panic for nearly twelve years now. It was like the rumors, however far fetched, were true. But there was only one person she would trust, would believe, to tell her that this was so. And because of this, she immediately made her way up to the office of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, her longtime colleague, current employer, and friend. But she hadn't even made it halfway there, when she was stopped by Hagrid, who informed her that Albus was not in the castle, and that if she needed, she would be able to find him at Number Four Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, later on that day, in the evening.
Minerva knew immediately upon hearing the address, that with the rumors going around of Lily and James' deaths, that only one person could live in this random place in a muggle suburb, Lily's older sister, whom Minerva knew full well that Lily had not spoken to in years. She had no idea why Albus was going to this house of all places, though one horrifying suspicion did enter her mind as she thought about it more, and she only hoped she was wrong. But with the thoughts she was having, she decided to go there right then, and wait, in the disguise of her animagus form of a cat of course, and watch, until Albus finally arrived.
Can you imagine sitting in the exact same spot all day long, not moving once? No? Well suffice it to say that by the time Albus Dumbledore arrived on the corner of Privet Drive late into the evening on November 1st of 1981, Professor Minerva Mcgonagall was incredibly tense and stiff. And if that weren't bad enough, she had learned through her long day of watching and observing, that the family that she suspected her old friend and colleague was planning on leaving the son of two of their favorite pupils, who had in the end become more like friends, was more horrible than she had originally feared. And she had decided long before Albus had appeared silently, making his grand entrance, that she would not stand for it.
Which is why, as they sat on the wall in front of the offending family's home, and after first confirming that all the rumors were true, about the dark lord being gone, about the Potters being dead, about Harry shockingly surviving the killing curse somehow, which had never been done before, she began to brace herself for the worst. And it was at this point, that Albus finally voiced his intentions, confirming her suspicions and fears, that he planned on leaving the child with these insufferable people, his aunt and her husband, she jumped to her feet in outrage.
"You don't mean... you can't mean the people who live here," she cried, in horror, " Dumbledore, you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son... I saw him kicking his pregnant mother all the way up the street, screaming and demanding sweets. Harry Potter come and live here? It's absolutely proposterous!"
"It's the best place for him," Albus told her firmly, "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. About who he is, his past, his parents. I have written them a letter."
"A letter? Really Albus, are you mad?" she asked, before shaking her head, her mouth set in a grim determined line, "No."
"What do you mean no, Minerva?"
"Exactly what I said Albus. No." she replied, "No, I will not allow it. These people will treat Harry as nothing more than a burden. Lily and James' son deserves far better than that. I will not let you leave him here."
Albus stared at her then, silent and seemingly deep in thought, for a few moments after she spoke.
"What alternative would you suggest then, my old friend?" he finally asked.
That was where Minerva was stuck, at a slight loss. She had not thought about that, only about the certainty that she could not allow young Harry to be raised by these people. But after just moments of pondering, the answer was suddenly surprisingly clear.
"Give him to me. I will care for him, I will raise him."