Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction using the characters of Harry Potter that are trademarked by J.K. Rowling.
A/N: This is a Fem!Harry story. It will encompass all her years at Hogwarts. I am aware that this particular thing has been done (a lot) but here we go again. Don't like it, don't read it.
It was a bitterly cold, dark November night when the feeble glow of the streetlights on Privett Drive began to flicker and surrendered to an oncoming darkness. The grass had a delicate layer of frost that coated the blades of grass, an indicator of the impending winter.
An elderly man wrapped in colourful robes that opposed the somber atmosphere, slowly walked along the sidewalk. His movements were deliberately slow and stilted as he moved along the sidewalk, the frigid temperatures wreaked havoc on his aging joints. As he ambled down the silent street he caused a cascade of extinguishing streetlights, and the quiet neighbourhood plummeted further into inky blackness and even the ambient sounds were muffled by an otherworldly hush.
The man slowed to a stop in front of a seemingly normal house, distinguished from the others by an ornate number four to the right of the door. This unassuming house, however, held within its walls the unsuspecting Dursley family.
The man stood in the numbing cold, his eyes fixated on the house. Within, the Dursleys enjoyed the oblivion of slumber, oblivious to the happenings of the world outside, unaware that their lives were about to change.
A sudden and resounding crash broke the silence of the night and caused the man to instinctively flinch. He swiveled his head towards the sound of the disturbance, his curiosity palpable. As his gaze landed on the origin of the sound, his lips subtly quirked into a knowing smile and his blue eyes twinkled merrily.
"I'm surprised to see you here, Professor McGonagall," the man said with a composed demeanor. His attention was fixed on a perfectly groomed, seemingly ordinary, tabby cat that was perched regally on a stone half-wall.
In response to the man's words, the cat shot him an unamused glare, her amber-green eyes betrayed a certain level of annoyance. In a graceful motion, the cat proceeded to jump from the wall and seamlessly transformed, mid-air, into an older, black-haired woman clad in dark blue robes and square glasses that had been mirrored in the colouring of the cat's fur.
"Are the rumors true, Albus?" she asked. Her voice held both hope and dread as she awaited his answer.
"I'm afraid so, Professor. The good, and the bad."
McGonagall's stern exterior crumbled as she lowered her gaze, her steely eyes now clouded with sorrow and disbelief. She fought back the tears, but a solitary tear traced down her cheek. The memories of the young couple that had once roamed the halls of Hogwarts now haunted her.
"And the girl?" she croaked, her voice laden with emotion. It was a question that weighed heavily on her concerned mind. She wondered what was to happen to the girl now that her parents were gone.
"She will be brought here," he motioned towards the house in front of them.
McGonagall's brief elation at finding out that the girl was alive was quickly dimmed, "Here?" she questioned with a tinge of disbelief and concern in her normally composed voice.
She had hoped that she was wrong. That Albus had no intention of leaving the girl in the dubious care of these muggles. She believed that the girl would be placed with a respectable magical family, ensuring her a proper upbringing within the magical community.
Her brief surveillance of the muggle household had already shown her they were some of the most reprehensible muggles she had encountered. They smiled at your face as they stabbed you in the back.
McGonagall's confidence in Albus wavered as the realization set in that the girl was now going to be exposed to potential mistreatment by this family.
"They are the only family she has left."
McGonagall scoffed. She found it hard to accept that there were no possible distant relatives in the magical community, she was sure that if they searched hard enough, they would be able to find family with blood ties to the Potter family. It would not be difficult since the Potters had married into multiple different lines.
"How can this be safe?" she challenged. The idea of a vulnerable girl, the last remnant of a one-prominent wizarding family, a savior of the magical world, left in a muggle community without the protective shield of a magical family, was deeply upsetting. The mere thought of a rogue death eater intent on revenge finding the defenseless girl sent a shiver down her spine and caused her stomach to churn with anxiety.
"There will be protections in place, Minerva. Do not fret," he assured her, his voice heavy with the weight of a solemn promise.
His eyes were filled with determination when they met hers, "She will be better off growing up away from the magical world. Her name will be known to everyone. That is not a childhood I would wish on anybody."
"She will be famous," McGonagall whispered, the word hung in the air like an unspoken prophecy. The realization of the hard life that the young girl would have to endure settled upon her.
"Where is she now?" McGonagall asked, breaking the uneasy silence that had descended upon them.
"She had to be examined to ensure that she was healthy and unharmed from the attack. Hagrid will bring her here."
Albus reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket watch on a chain. With a quick click, the cover snapped open, and he peered down at the watch face. The intricate gears within the watch moved with rhythmic precision as he checked the hands, his eyes narrowed in concentration.
"He is on his way now. Shouldn't be much longer," Albus announced.
The atmosphere was now thick with tension and concern that barely eased after Dumbledore spoke. The seconds ticked away, and Albus' gaze remained fixed on the intricate dance of the hands as if he could see Hagrid himself in the watch face.
McGonagall winced as she thought of the giant man being anything but conspicuous and wondered if Albus should have chosen someone stealthier to ensure the safety of the girl, "Do you think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?" she asked.
"Come now, Minerva. I would trust Hagrid with my life, and I trust that he will complete this task with the utmost respect and subtlety that it requires."
Albus' words were immediately contradicted when the sound of a loud motor roared in the sky. The two occupants of the street looked up into a starless sky and saw a small light that swayed back and forth. The light grew large, and the roaring engine grew louder as a flying motorcycle ridden by a behemoth man with a long unkempt beard came into focus.
The motorcycle descended with a thunderous roar, its headlight cut through the darkness with twin beams. Hagrid, astride the roaring beast, approached the two wizards with an exuberant grin that contradicted any notion of subtlety. The enormous man maneuvered the motorcycle with surprising agility.
McGonagall's eyebrows shot up in disbelief as the motorcycle skid across the asphalt before it came to a stop a foot away from the pair. Hagrid dismounted the old, rusted bike and pulled off his goggles. He took a step forward and stood towering over Albus and Minerva.
"Professor Dumbledore, Sir. Professor McGonagall," he said with a nod to each.
Albus cleared his throat and pointedly ignored the 'I told you so' look that McGonagall shot his way, "Hagrid, my friend. I knew I could count on you. No problems, I trust?"
"No, Sir. The little one fell asleep as we flew over Bristol. It tried not to wake the little tike. Here you go," Hagrid said and handed over the small bundle that was wrapped in a soft purple blanket.
Albus took the child into his arms and cradled the fragile child in his arms with utmost care. He looked down on the tiny innocent face that was marred by a red jagged scar on her forehead. Albus couldn't help the pang of sympathy for the little one.
The mark still looked painful, but Albus trusted that she had been given the appropriate potions and medical care to stave off the worst of the pain and allow to healing process to begin.
With a melancholic expression etched on his face, Albus turned towards the entrance of the house. McGonagall and the towering Hagrid followed closely behind, their presence a comfort.
"It's time," Albus said sadly. He stepped up onto the front stoop of number four. Albus could hear Hagrid's sniffles and muffled coughs that indicated that the giant was crying.
"It's not truly a goodbye, Hagrid. We will see her again," Albus promised with a reassuring tone in an attempt to ease the heavy sorrow that lingered in the air, and Hagrid nodded. He knew the words that Albus uttered were true, but he was still overcome with grief, and he hated the thought of this child being left with muggles.
With great care, Albus crouched down and tenderly placed the slumbering girl gently on the front step. His weathered hands moved with practiced grace as he reached into his robe pocket and produced a small, aged envelope, and securely tucked it into the girl's blanket. He ran the tip of his finger gently over the jagged cut and frowned when the baby instinctively flinched away from the contact in her sleep.
Albus stood up, winced at the creak and crack of his joints, and stepped back to stand beside McGonagall and Hagrid.
"Good luck⦠Laurel Potter," Albus whispered before he walked off, never once turning to look back.
Hagrid gave one last look at the little girl before he nodded to McGonagall and left Privet Drive atop his motorcycle, also without a single glance backward.
Minerva McGonagall was the last one left. The lone guardian in the bitter cold. She stood, unable to move. She just could not fathom abandoning the vulnerable girl to the uncertainties of the night.
Albus' apparent trust in the unseen forces of protection baffled her and she couldn't dismiss the gnawing concern that lingered. She withdrew her wand, its tip emitted a soft glow as she cast a silent warming charm. The frigid air was replaced by a comforting warmth that enveloped the child. A tender smile graced her lips when she saw the girl shift and snuggle down further into the warm blanket.
After the spell had taken effect, with an almost imperceptible transformation, McGonagall seamlessly shifted into her a tabby cat. She positioned herself by the child's head, her soft purring echoed in the silent night.
McGonagall settled down for a long night ready to stand guard over the innocent sleeper. She would keep vigil over the child until the house's occupants awoke, no further harm would befall the girl on her watch.
The night wore on, but the vigilant protector remained steadfast in the stillness of the night until the first rays of dawn illuminated the horizon and she heard movement inside the home.
