The following Tuesday, Roger was completely in his element as he was teaching a particularly enthralling Defense lecture to his fourth-year students. "The Wendigo is a ferocious beast… it has the skull of a bison, the antlers of a caribou, and…" Knock! Knock! Knock!
Roger sighed, and bowed his head. "Excuse me for just a moment." He dashed toward the rear of the classroom and flung the heavy wooden door open. He practically jumped at seeing the sight of his old house head, clad in her trademark emerald green, but also carrying a large wicker basket with a small, sleeping child inside it.
"Professor McGonagall," Roger blurted, clearly taken by surprise. He looked at the wicker basket she held under her left arm, supported by her right. "I take it this must be little Harry?"
The only response Roger got from Minerva was a nod.
Roger sighed, and turned back to the class. "Class is dismissed," he grunted. "Read pages 180 through 196 before next lecture… there may be a quiz, so be sure to read everything carefully." Dozens of textbooks slammed shut, followed by the shuffling of students' feet. He addressed Minerva again. "I believe Professor Fontaine would like to see you. Would you like for me to escort you to his office?"
"Much obliged, Professor," replied Minerva. She then handed the basket to Roger. "My arms are aching after carrying wee Harry all morning; he's your responsibility now."
"Oof," grunted Roger as his arms slumped slightly at the unexpected weight… Harry certainly felt heavier than he looked. He looked inside the basket and saw the smiling face of Harry, and couldn't help but smile back at the lad. "You're the spitting image of your old man, Hare," he chuckled. "And I'll bet you've got your mum's fiery spirit. I hope I know what I'm doing with you."
Minerva placed a knowing hand on Roger's shoulder. "Part of being a parent is learning on the fly, Roger. Lily and James aren't expecting perfection… they just want you to love and protect Harry." She offered him a rare smile. "I'll be happy to provide what guidance I can, and perhaps even serve as an occasional baby-sitter – emphasis on occasional – as will Hagrid, and certainly your friends and associates on the Ilvermorny staff."
She sighed, and hung her head in shame. "I hate to be the bearer of more bad news, but your old friend Sirius Black…"
Roger's face went pallid. "He's not dead too, is he?"
Minerva's lips straightened into a thin, tense line. Roger couldn't help but wince – he'd seen her do that many a time during his time as a Hogwarts student. That was her signature look of disapproval, but this time he saw something more than mere disapproval… there was a certain fury in her countenance that he rarely saw before.
"No… his fate is perhaps worse than death. The night after Lily and James were killed, Sirius ostensibly went out to avenge their deaths. Bless his soul, his heart was in the right place, but he was always so brash… exceptionally so, even for a Gryffindor. He's been accused of murdering twelve Muggles, plus your old friend Peter Pettigrew by Godric's Hollow, and was taken to Azkaban just hours after the explosion."
Roger's face went even whiter. "No, that's not possible… Sirius would never murder anyone in cold blood. Especially innocent people… that's just not who he is." He cocked his head. "And you're telling me that he got thrown into a cell without due process? Even under martial law, the accused must stand trial before being sentenced…"
Minerva shook her head, the remorse on her face quite apparent. "Hagrid and I have come to the same conclusion. Black always marched to the beat of his own drum. While he's no saint, he would never condone the senseless slaughter of innocent bystanders – be they magical or Muggle. He was almost certainly set up; but we have yet to establish any suspects. All the evidence is pointed against him, so whoever masterminded this catastrophe planned this out quite carefully." She shrugged, her face showing additional wrinkles of worry. "For all we know, the actual perpetrator has already left Muggle Britain. I pray he or she has no plans to travel to North America."
"We've got to help Sirius," Roger said through gritted teeth. "Someone needs to question him… hear his side of the story." He sighed, and swept a lock of his dark blonde hair back . "You're right, Sirius has his flaws, but he's still a good person. He's neither a liar, nor a cold-blooded killer."
"We will help Black," Minerva agreed with a curt nod, "but the dust needs to settle first. What's more important is young Harry… you and Rhonda need to take care of him. And you and I both know that Sirius would agree with me. He'd rather die than see his godson come to any harm."
Several minutes later, after traversing several corridors and ascending multiple flights of stairs, a winded Minerva and Roger made their way to the iron-clad double doors that marked the entrance to the Headmaster's office.
"Xuanlong," Minerva trilled confidently. The large doors made a loud grinding sound before slowly creaking open. A dimly-lit pathway revealed itself, and the professors continued their march to the Headmaster's antechamber.
"How did you know that, Professor?" Roger asked quizzically. "I'm a member of the Ilvermorny faculty and not even I know the password… granted, only the seniormost staff get that privilege."
Minerva chuckled. "As second-in-command at Hogwarts, I'm privy to quite a bit of classified information. Albus and Agilbert do maintain a healthy, professional relationship, after all…"
"I'm surprised you haven't applied for the Headmaster position at Ilvermorny when it opened a couple of years ago," replied Roger. "You would have had a fair chance of getting it."
"That's very kind of you to say, but as it stands, I have little interest in becoming Headmistress at either Hogwarts or Ilvermorny," countered Minerva. "The opportunity may arise one day, but my time and talents are better served exactly as they are now."
At the end of the corridor, they stopped at an archway blocked by a large spherical boulder that looked like it weighed dozens of tons. Minerva and Roger both placed their left hands on the massive slab until it began to faintly glow. The stone cleanly parted, allowing the professors entry to the Headmaster's elliptical-shaped office.
The two were then greeted boisterously by Fontaine. "Minerva! Roger! I've been expecting you two. Please, have a seat. Would either of you care for some tea and a light snack?"
"It's been ages, Agilbert," replied Minerva as she shook Fontaine's hand. "And some Earl Grey tea would be delightful, if you have it. Three sugars and a splash of milk, if you don't mind."
"Of course, Minerva," chuckled Fontaine. "And how about yourself, Roger?"
Roger smirked. "The usual, Headmaster. Hot Toddy ginger tea with extra cinnamon, please."
Fontaine nodded. "Certainly." He clapped his hands twice, and two saucers and two matching teacups instantly appeared on a mahogany table between Minerva and Roger's plush seats. "And as for young Harry here…" He snapped his fingers, and a medium-sized brown teddy bear appeared in Harry's wicker basket. Harry just stared at the new toy in wonder, before cooing in delight.
"Professor Fontaine, thank you for having me here today," said Minerva before clearing her throat. "I do have a few things I need to get off my chest, if you'll allow me…"
"Of course, Minerva," murmured Fontaine. "What can I help you with?"
Minerva paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. "As you already know, Roger here was asked to be Harry's primary caretaker. I take it you have no problem with that arrangement?"
Fontaine shook his head. "No, no problem at all. I have no doubt that he and Rhonda can provide Harry a stable and safe environment, one conducive for a happy and healthy childhood."
Minerva flattened her lips. "With all due respect, Professor, we may be on totally different wavelengths. You have had a professional relationship with Roger for only a few short months. I've known him for over ten years… and needless to say, I think he still has some growing up to do." She took a small sip from her teacup. "I don't doubt his capabilities as Defense professor, and I'm sure he'll be an attentive and loving surrogate father, but I'm… unsure if he has the maturity to handle being a father and a professor concurrently… those two occupations are demanding enough on their own…"
Fontaine stroked his beard in thought. "Well, Roger is what, twenty-two? He's legally an adult in both the wizarding and no-maj worlds…"
Minerva took another sip of her tea before elaborating. "You're right, he is an adult, Agilbert. But if you want my recommendation, he should step down as Defense professor, and become Harry's guardian, full-time."
"Step down? Rhonda can't support three people on just her salary… things are stretched thin enough as they are," interrupted Roger, who stood to his feet in protest.
Fontaine gestured for Roger to take his seat. "Roger, we can't force you to choose, but Minerva does have a point; one which I am inclined to agree with. Right now, being Harry's guardian should be your top priority… and if you do decide to step down from your post, I will ensure that MACUSA provides a stipend for your family until Harry becomes of legal age. You and your family will not go without food or shelter as long as you fulfill your parental duties."
"But what about the remainder of the term?" blurted Roger. "Someone has to teach those kids defense…"
Fontaine smiled. "Like I said before, I can handle it, even for the remainder of the term if need be. From what I've gathered, you're a more than capable instructor, and you're welcome to re-apply for the position in the future should you so choose. In fact, I'm sure little Harry would love nothing more than to have you teach one of his classes." He chuckled softly. "I hope you don't hand him house points for remembering to brush his teeth."
Roger's face flushed. "I'd treat him just like any other student, sir."
"Now listen to me, Roger," Minerva added. "You had the advantage of growing up in a magical family, but for Harry's safety, I want you to limit the magic used in your household. He should be enrolled in Muggle schools, have Muggle friends, and play Muggle games."
She paused again, as she wanted to make the next point as clear as possible. "There may come a time when Harry finds out he's different. Strange things may happen around him that he can't explain. To you and I, they're completely normal, but to Muggles, these happenings are nothing short of bizarre. And they'll be bizarre to Harry, at least initially, so of course he'll start to ask questions. Questions about why things happen the way they do. Questions about his real parents. I don't want you to lie to Harry, but I also want you to be very tactful and reveal only the absolute minimum amount of information, because say, a seven or even eleven year old boy will not be able to handle the truth, at least in its entirety. If you tell him too much too early, he may begin to poke around places he'll have no business poking around, and perhaps find himself in trouble that he can't get himself out of. He may be persistent with his questions, so I encourage you to be patient yet firm. You won't be denying him the truth; you're simply going to be delaying it."
Roger stared blankly at Minerva, then at Fontaine. "That's… that's a lot to take in." He took a sip of his Hot Toddy, and addressed Fontaine. "Will you need notification of my resignation in writing?"
Fontaine smiled. "No need, my boy. I'll cross all the T's and dot all the I's; your only responsibility is Harry." He looked at the enormous, ornate grandfather clock that was nestled in between two equally-towering bookshelves. "It looks like the NAMURS departs at three o'clock. If you leave now, you should have more than enough time to reach the Union Station and catch the train."
"NAMURS?" asked Minerva. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that."
Fontaine chuckled. "North American Underground Railway System… it's a lot more extensive than your Hogwarts Express; but that is to be expected. There's exponentially more territory to cover here than in Great Britain."
Minerva simply nodded. "Ahh." She turned toward Harry, and picked the little boy up and gave him a tender hug. "You be good for Uncle Roger and Aunt Rhonda, Harry. I promise they'll take good care of you." She held him more tightly. Her patrician façade began to falter, ever-so-slightly. "Your Auntie Minnie is going to miss you so, so much. I promise we'll see each other again sometime… until then, good luck, Harry Potter."
