Author's Note:
This story takes place in 1986. Minerva's fifty going on fifty-one in this fic (I made her born in 1935 because her age is really inconsistent).
Minerva felt as if her eyelids get heavier with every essay she grades. It was almost one in the morning now, Sunday had silently come to replace Saturday, and Minerva had no idea. All she knew was that she had to finish grading assignments by Monday, a task that felt more impossible the longer she stayed awake.
"Only a hundred more..." she mumbled to herself, giving a poor grade to the most recent essay she had read. Minerva sighed, putting down her quill. The candles in her office were about to go out.
There was something so satisfying about grading by hand to Minerva that kept her from using any spells that could help relieve her workload. That satisfaction was long gone by the time she reached her fiftieth essay of the night.
The next thing she knew, Minerva was jolting her head off of her desk. She can never tell when she passes out, or how long she passes out for. Minerva repeated this cycle four more times until she gave up and took out a potion from her desk cabinet. Madam Pomfrey had made a potion that gave her hours of dreamless sleep for rough times, times that became common following the end of the war.
Minerva drank the potion in ten seconds and laid her head on her desk, not bothering to go into the bedroom next door to her office. She finally went to sleep but when Minerva woke up, she felt as if only seconds passed by. She was definitely going to get her potions from Snape from now on.
Forcing herself to go through her morning routine, Minerva made herself look presentable and marched down to the Great Hall. She did her best to not make eye contact with any of the other staff members; Dumbledore was away for a meeting with Cornelius Fudge, making it much easier for Minerva to go by undetected.
Once she sat down in her designated chair, Minerva immediately regretted coming down. The smell of the delicious-looking food began to give Minerva a migraine. She muttered a curse under her breath and forced herself to keep an eye out on all of the students who were eating, making sure none of them were preparing to cause an explosion.
Once the delivery owls began to come into the hall, Minerva finally let her eyes close. She felt her eyes become heavy again.
Then a letter landed near her stack of uneaten pancakes.
Making sure syrup hadn't gotten onto the letter, Minerva checked the envelope to see who sent it. She expected it to be from her mother, perhaps another three paragraphs telling her to try out a new, expensive potion to help with her sleeping problems.
4. Privet Drive, Little Whinging.
Minerva would have never expected to receive a letter from the Dursley family. It had been over five years since she, Dumbledore, and Hagrid delivered a young Harry Potter to their doorstep. Minerva regretted her inaction that day. She always degraded herself, thinking about all of the ways she could have begged Dumbledore to not leave Harry with them. Minerva sometimes thought about taking Harry away from that doorstep and raising him on his own in secrecy.
But she knew none of that mattered now. Minerva opened the letter and began to read its contents.
Meet with me.
~ Petunia Evans Dursley
Minerva appeared in Privet Drive an hour after she received her letter, changing into some clothes that would have been more appropriate to wear. Despite what Petunia would claim, Minerva felt as if deep down she didn't fully hate magic. She had seen the letters Petunia sent to Dumbledore when Lily was given her own letter. Even so, she knew better than to wear a witch's clothing.
Reaching Petunia's home, Minerva knocked on the door. She looked around the property and saw that Vernon Dursley's car wasn't in the driveway. Minerva breathed a sigh of relief knowing she wouldn't have to interact with him in any way.
The door opened a few seconds after Minerva knocked. Petunia appeared in front of her, a sullen expression on her face.
"Get in, now!" Petunia grabbed Minerva's arm and pulled inside quickly. Minerva stumbled coming inside but quickly caught her balance. "It took you long enough to finally come here."
Minerva adjusted the sleeve of her shirt. "The owl only got to me just now. Frankly, I'm surprised that you chose me to speak with. Or that you remembered my name."
Petunia's face started to develop into a scowl. "How could anyone forget when you danced into my childhood home, announcing to my family you were going to take her to buy things for her fancy school in a castle?"
"That's enough," said Minerva with a smidge of aggression in her tone. "What did you need from me that you could not get from Dumbledore?"
Pointing to the living room, Petunia only said a single word. "That."
Minerva walked into the living room and saw a young boy sitting on a white sofa. He was staring deeply at a plate trembling in the air.
"My god…"
"I'm surprised you believe in God," snarled Petunia.
"My father was a minister. I was raised Presbyterian."
Petunia squinted her eyes at Minerva but said nothing to her. "Boy."
Harry seemed to snap out of his trance and, in an instant, the plate fell down on the coffee table.
"Get your things. Now."
Without a word, Harry walked past Petunia and Minerva. "I am not dealing with THAT in my life!"
Minerva finally understood what Petunia had wanted: Harry to be handed over to someone else. She always knew that living with his aunt wasn't the correct decision to make. But regardless, Petunia had accepted him into her house and therefore had upheld Lily's protection. Even so, Minerva couldn't help but feel some level of anger at Petunia, as well as some pity.
"...very well. I will take him. I am aware that what we asked of you was too much to bear, especially directly after Lily's-"
"Do not speak her name," said Petunia. There was no sort of emotion in her voice. "How could you people do such a thing? Bring me my dead sister's baby? The sister who- who I…!"
"But you took him in anyway," Minerva pointed out.
Petunia only scoffed. "You try and reject an orphan!"
"Like how you're currently doing?"
Both of them stayed silent until Harry returned with a trash bag containing his belongings. "I'm ready, Aunt Petunia," he said quietly.
Minerva turned to him. "Harry, can you wait for me outside for just a few more minutes? Your aunt and I have to discuss something else."
Harry's head turned to Petunia. "Now," she demanded. He turned around and left, closing the door behind him quietly.
"Why did you take Harry in just to get rid of him?" Minerva asked Petunia.
"He did nothing wrong as a toddler," began Petunia. "It was all the fault of my sister and the man who dragged her to her death. If she stayed behind, never learning that she was a freak, she would have lived. That boy would have been able to live as well if there was even a chance of him being ordinary, but he's marked for death now. Death will come for me and my family if I let him stay."
With not another word, Petunia passed Minerva and exited the living room. Minerva slowly followed after her.
"Petunia."
Hearing her name, she stopped in her tracks.
"I am truly sorry for what happened to her. You should know that she had confided in me for many years." Minerva began to walk towards the door. "She stayed after class and said that she regretted growing more and more distant from you every day in her life." Now she opened the door. "She had many feelings about you, but none were hateful."
And the door closed.
Minerva tried her best to not listen through the door. She walked off of the Dursley property and met Harry on the sidewalk.
"Um… Aunt Petunia said that you were going to take me somewhere," said Harry.
The reality of the situation came crashing down on Minerva. What was she going to do now? Petunia, regardless of her attitude, was correct. If Voldemort really wasn't dead, death would come after Harry and anyone who tried to protect him from it. Minerva realized that any sort of protection that came from Lily would have been shattered the moment Petunia rejected Harry because of his magic.
She tried her best to conceal her fear with a warm smile. "Yes. Yes, she did." Minerva extended her hand to Harry. "My name is Minerva McGonagall."
Harry shook her hand. "Meh… M-Minervuh? Like that?
"Yes, just like that."
As they held each other's hand, Minerva and Harry walked away from Privet Drive. Harry began to complain about his feet hurting until they arrived at a train station. After getting on a train, they started to speak to one another again.
"Where are we going?"
"I am taking you somewhere safe. It's quite far away from here."
Harry slumped in his seat next to Minerva. "More walking?" he bemoaned.
"Only a little bit more," she reassured. Minerva glimpsed at the trash bag Harry had with him; he had been gripping it tightly since he left his aunt and uncle's home. "You needn't worry about it being taken away from you. I promise, you will be safe where we will be."
"...are you my new mum?"
Minerva froze in her seat. Guiding Harry through his childhood she was ready for, but to be a mother for him was something she thought she wouldn't need to be. Even if it was for a small part of his current life, Lily and James were his parents. Minerva couldn't believe she could ever replace them.
"I'm simply someone who will take care of you," answered Minerva.
"So like Aunt Petunia," Harry mumbled. Minerva was pained to hear the defeat in his voice, but knew she couldn't make any promises she couldn't keep.
Once the train ride ended, Minerva and Harry got off and walked to a pub. Harry stopped in his tracks, "Am I allowed to go in there?"
Minerva put her thumb and index finger to her chin. "Not yet…" she took out her wand from her arm sleeve and, after making sure no one else was around, pointed it to the air. "Accio, cap!" In an instant, a red baseball cap flew into Minerva's hand from the sky, surprising Harry.
"How did you do that?!" he said in awe. Minerva handed him the cap and put it on his head.
"Magic," Minerva stated with pride. "Now make sure to cover up that scar."
"But Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon said it isn't real. They really meant it," said Harry as he adjusted the cap to cover his forehead.
Minerva raised an eyebrow. "There is a lot we have to explain to you. But first, follow me."
Harry followed Minerva by the hand into the pub. It had a small sign on its door stating its name: The Leaky Cauldron.
Inside, the pub was almost entirely empty. Harry's eyes darted around, feeling slightly anxious about The Leaky Cauldron's dark and dated looking interior. He noticed that the very few people who were drinking near the front didn't look like people at all, some of them with very pointy ears and others with skin so pale that it resembled a piece of paper. The few that did look human wore clothes that seemed like they were never washed.
Minerva approached the bartender, a man Harry heard she called Tom, and told that they needed a fireplace.
"And why's that, headmistress?" Tom asked. His eyes darted around the bar, his head not moving an inch, until he spotted Harry. Harry stepped back, preparing himself to run.
"We simply need a mode of transportation. Apparating with a boy so young could leave him harmed, after all."
Tom smiled. Harry saw his teeth seemed rather pointy and had a few gaps. "Who's the boy for?"
"Not that you need to know, but he is family. A nephew of mine," lied Minerva.
"I see," Tom moved his arm around the bottom of his counter and grabbed a key. He came around the counter and walked to a door on the other side of the pub.
"Why does he walk like that?" asked Harry.
"Some people walk that way. Nothing much else to say about it," explained Minerva. Harry nodded, feeling as though what he asked was rude.
After Tom unlocked a door to a backroom, Minerva and Harry walked inside. In it was only a fireplace, a couple of chairs, and a table. On the table was a bag that Minerva put her hand into. She grabbed a handful of powder and walked over to the fireplace. She motioned to Harry to come close to her, and they held hands.
"Do not be alarmed when flames appear."
"Flames?" asked Harry.
"HOGSMEADE!"
Minerva threw the Floo Powder onto the base of the fireplace, and she and Harry were immediately set aflame. Harry screamed as the flames consumed him and tried jumping away, only to land face first on the floor of a completely different room than where they used to be. The two of them had landed in a living room. Everything in the house seemed to be entirely unused for some time, with the wooden walls being slightly discolored, a few bunnies around the house, and furniture that hadn't been cleaned in months.
"Where are we?" Harry looked around for the nearest exit. He had felt as if Minerva had really kidnapped him.
"My apologies." Minerva waved her wand and immediately a broom and dustpan came flying out of a closet. A wet mop followed after it, and Minerva silently enchanted them to start cleaning them on their own.
"It will take a short amount of time for the rest of the house to be cleaned up. In the meantime, are you hungry, Harry?"
After almost an hour of cleanup and a short visit to buy food from a Hogsmeade store, Minerva was able to make a quick lunch for Harry. As he ravaged through his chicken legs like a hungry dog, sparking Minerva to make another mental note, she told Harry that she was going to be out for a few minutes.
It was then that Harry finally realized he really was away from his family. He tried recalling the past three days before Minerva took him away.
Harry hadn't been paying attention in his class, instead drawing his teacher, who had a very noticeable wig on, in his class notebook. The teacher confiscated it, and made a snide remark at the fact he colored her wig blue. The next thing anyone noticed was that the real teacher's hair started turning blue from the wig's scalp all the way to the hair's tips.
Harry was sent home with a report describing this incident, and he could never forget the look on Aunt Petunia's face when she read the report. While Uncle Vernon shrugged off the incident as rubbish, Petunia immediately yelled at Harry, shouting at him to go into his room, which was the cupboard. It was the first real emotion that Petunia had ever shared with him. As long as Harry could remember, Petunia always seemed completely devoid of emotion when it came to anything in the house, even Dudley or Vernon, but he received absolutely nothing. Even the clothes he wore were once Dudley's.
But that anger…
He spent the rest of the day in that cupboard. It was his room, but he had never been forced to stay there, without eating dinner. The next day, Petunia couldn't bear to look at him. She sent him to take a shower, and then sent him to school without breakfast or lunch to take. When he came back from school, Petunia locked him away once more. The next day, Harry wasn't allowed to go back to school. Instead, Petunia yelled at him to shower and then to come back and pack a bag, for he'd have to live somewhere else.
Harry wondered what he did to break his aunt.
He would like to never speak about his family to anyone.
Harry's thoughts were interrupted by the front door opening.
"In here, Albus." Minerva had the same level of coldness in her voice as Aunt Petunia used to have.
As she entered the kitchen, an old man with a beard that reached his waist entered alongside Minerva. Minerva had changed into a pair of green robes, robes of the same style as the man Minerva referred to as Albus.
Dumbledore took one glance and immediately recognized Harry. Immediately he sank to the floor, only being held up by Minerva.
"I did not fall, Albus. Neither should you."
Dumbledore struggled to find words for how he felt. He had only returned to Hogwarts half an hour previously, and was immediately confronted by Minerva, demanding him to follow her. When he said he had something very important to work towards, Minerva slammed her hands onto his desk. Dumbledore then realized that something terrible has happened, something terrible he had committed.
And the result was sitting before him.
He didn't know if he should have fallen to Harry's feet and begged for forgiveness, or if he should have sat down with Harry and stared at him. Before he could do anything, Minerva spoke.
"I need only one thing from you, Albus. Protection."
Albus nodded his head. "Then… the burden I had forced onto Petunia…"
"Yes. It did not work. You were wrong to do such a thing. I was wrong to let it happen."
With not a single word, Albus moved closer to Harry. He took out his wand and moved it across Harry's forehead, concealing his scar with what Harry felt was actual skin.
"And of course. A place to stay," said Minerva.
"I could install a Fidelius Charm on this cottage. We are fortunate that it has been unused for months now," Dumbledore said.
"And what of the other villagers?"
"No one will ever find it, except for me. I will keep you safe, as long as I can. I have much to do now that Harry is here."
Harry stared into Dumbledore's eyes, which resembled moons. They began to be covered with what seemed to Harry were tears.
"Why are you crying?"
Dumbledore wiped his tears away. "There is… so much I want to apologize for, Harry. So many things I should have done differently."
"Now is not the time," said Minerva, putting her hand on Dumbledore's shoulder. "The Fidelius Charm, Albus."
"Right. And Minerva, if you require time to yourself, simply tell me. Your place in Hogwarts will not be replaced unless you ask me so."
"Thank you, Albus."
Dumbledore then left the cottage, closing the door gently behind him. Minerva sat down at the table next to Harry.
"He'll keep me safe, Miss Minerva?" he asked.
"Yes. We are close to where he lives. If anything were to happen to either of us, Dumbledore will be the quickest to arrive."
Harry stared at the bone left from his chicken leg. It sounded to him as if Dumbledore was the reason he was left with his family. He had no reason to trust him, if that were the case. As if reading his mind, Minerva laid her hand on Harry's. "It will take time for either of us to trust him. However, even if that time never comes, I promise, I will always protect you. It may not ever be as strong as what your aunt could have done, but I swear on my life, I will do my best.
Harry held Minerva's hand tightly. "Not like Aunt Petunia," he remarked happily.
Author's Note:
Thanks for reading. :)