Minerva missed her rivalry with Snape. She had taken for granted how competitive he was with Quidditch, although she now doubted the man had been very interested in sports. But he was interested in winning and gloating about it. They would talk every day leading up to a match, making snide remarks and loudly pretending to place bets with other professors. For the last several years, since Snape's house had won the cup, he would slowly walk by her study with the trophy tucked in his arms like an infant and would polish the gleaming metal with his sleeve.

Aurora, the new head of Slytherin house, did not have any interest in Quidditch and had not yet learned how to pretend to, as Severus had done. She had said nothing when McGonagall announced that Harry Potter, first year, would be the new Seeker and said nothing when her house team lost the match that afternoon.

Eldridge Sage, however, did seem interested. At least, she had overheard him discussing professional teams with Flitwick. And, though she would not admit to snooping, she had seen a pendant for the Yorkshire team in his office while passing by. It was for that reason that she found herself in the dungeons, to extend an olive branch of sorts.

After all, Severus Snape had been a confirmed former Death Eater and she considered him wonderful company. Surely the same might be true for his replacement.

As it was her turn to patrol the corridors at night for students out of bounds, she was silently rehearsing how to broach a friendship with Sage. In the dungeons, though, she realized he was likely still awake. Although it was much too late for office hours, considering the students were all in bed, the fact that there was light coming from his study.

All of Snape's carefully curated ingredients and frankly off-putting collection of weird things had been removed from his office. She knew they were locked in an expanding trunk in Dumbledore's office, but seeing the comparatively bare room made her feel as though they were gone forever.

Sage stood with his back to the door, pressing his wand against the stone wall in seemingly random places.

"Good evening?" Minerva said, not wanting to be caught snooping.

Sage spun around. He was still dressed in his day robes, despite the late hour.

"Oh, good evening. There's a draft down here," Sage complained, good-naturedly, as if this was the perfect time to investigate things. "It's been bothering me since the start of term."

It's a dungeon. It's always cold, thought Minerva. Instead, she said; "Professor Snape usually wore several layers to account for that. I believe the classroom also becomes rather hot with all the boiling cauldrons?"

Sage made a noise of confirmation, but did not elaborate or thank her for the advice about layers.

Perhaps all those interested in potions were not great at conversation. But, Minerva had practice.

"Did you enjoy watching your first Hogwarts Quidditch match of the season?"

"Oh." His dark eyes widened for a moment, clearly not expecting that topic of conversation. "Yes, it was quite exciting. Although it would have been quite different, if Harry Potter had fallen off his broom."

"He was much better during practice, I'm told," said Minerva softly.

"Yes, and that was strange. Did you buy him a faulty broom?"

Minerva's face went red. "I should say not!"

"He's just a poor flyer, then." Sage nodded as if this explained things, as if the entire situation had not been very, very odd. "Well, there's plenty of time to practice. The next game is not for several weeks, is that right?"

"He's a perfectly good flyer," Minerva insisted, "he caught the snitch, didn't he?"

"Caught it? I don't know about that."

Minerva, who had not been watching that exact moment because she had been wrangling Severus, frowned. "Didn't he?"

"He sort of…tumbled."

"Tumbled." Minerva repeated awkwardly.

"It fell right into his mouth. I've never seen a snitch caught like that before. It counts on a technicality. And I've seen quite a few games. Professional ones, of course."

"I did notice," she gestured to the pennant on the wall, one of the few decorations. The rest of the room was so sparse, she now wondered if he knew how silly it looked.

"If you came to discuss Quidditch, I'm afraid it is rather late," said Sage, as if he had not been prowling his own office in the middle of the night. Ignoring that, Minerva straightened her posture slightly.

"I do have a more selfish request as well."

"Is that so?"

"Do you have any vials of calming draught that you don't have use for?"

Poppy had been getting suspicious about the number of times Minerva had requested that specific potion, but it was hardly her fault. Severus still had a fit every single time she tried to bathe him and he would not listen to reason or bribery, both of which she had tried.

In truth, Sage had no idea when he was going to have his students attempt that. Was that a third year potion, or a sixth year? It was rather easy for him to brew, having done it hundreds of times before. But…

"Why do you need it? Madam Pomfrey hasn't mentioned replenishing her stores."

"Oh, no. I imagine she won't need to for a long while." Snape had seen to that, for all the options that had a decent shelf life. "But my nephew has been a bit restless lately."

"Your nephew," repeated Sage, "he's quite young to need those, isn't he?"

"He's…been through quite a lot." Minerva said vaguely. That was true, but it also wasn't the reason she needed the potions, as far as she knew. She still assumed it was simply a rather irritating quirk.

"Oh, yes. That's quite an unusual arrangement, isn't it? Are those exceptions usually allowed? I thought professors with families were expected to live elsewhere."

"The Headmaster is exceptionally kind," said the witch, matching the false pleasantry. "Considering the circumstances."

"And what are those circumstances? I believe I missed the conversation."

Minerva wanted to roll her eyes. What other possible explanation could there be? Other than the truth, of course. "The death of his parents."

The man leaned forward slightly and for the first time, he sounded genuinely interested in the conversation. "Did he witness it?"

Although he tried to sound sympathetic, Minerva thought there was an edge of excitement to the man's voice.

"That's…rather private."

"It must have been very sudden and tragic," Sage went on, mostly to himself, "to lose both at once…he did, didn't he? And you're his closest living relative?"

Oh. So he had heard the cover story. Minerva could not imagine why he wanted to know more, unless he was trying to poke holes in the story. Minerva was determined not to give him any details, regardless of motive. "He's understandably upset. This is quite a big change for him."

"Yes," disappointed and deprived of juicy details, Sage returned to his previous, false demeanor. The smile did not falter. "Well, I believe you can purchase it in Hogsmeade, if Madame Pomfrey won't supply it."

The conversation ended quickly after that, as Minerva had honestly not expected her request to be rejected.

If Severus was still himself, she thought angrily, he would have agreed to it without question.

McGonagall turned the corner and nearly tripped over the crouching, and very clearly eavesdropping, form of Harry Potter.

This is where Professor McGonnagal lives, was Harry's first thought as he entered her study. The room was smaller than he expected, and barely decorated. It was so empty, that the stack of children's toys in the corner was particularly noticeable. Beside them was a pile of books, hastily organized, that all seemed to be related to magical creatures. He blinked at it slowly. His professor did not seem to notice as she crossed her arms and leaned against her desk.

"Mister Potter—"

"I wasn't spying or anything," said Harry quickly, which is not a good way to begin a conversation. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to follow Sage to the dungeons, and it was lucky that Ron and Hermione had held back far enough that McGonagall hadn't spotted them; no doubt they were back in the dormitories, fretting over Harry. "I didn't hear anything."

"Then what were you doing out of bed at this hour?" asked McGonagall, who was quite used to students lying to her face about such things. Her expression was stern and unyielding and Harry felt himself shrinking under it.

He was not going to admit to spying on a professor. Or that he was doing so because they thought he might be up to something.

"I—" he began, unsure of where the sentence was going, "I forgot my—"

He did not need to come up with the imaginary thing he had forgotten; Something in the other room crashed to the floor. Both of their heads whipped towards the door in the tense silence that followed. And then came the very distinct sound of crying.

"What's that?" Harry asked, although he was sure it sounded like a person.

"We will continue this conversation later. Return to your dormitory," Minerva said briskly and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder to lead him towards the door. Harry, small and light on his feet, ducked from under her hand.

"Is there a kid here?" he asked and before the woman could answer, someone was trying to turn the doorknob to what Harry could only assume was a bedroom. That felt…weird. Professor McGonagall didn't seem like the type of person who had a kid; she was old, first of all, and…strict. Was she even married? Harry couldn't picture it. She didn't wear a wedding ring. Did wizards wear wedding rings at all? Harry supposed they did. Then, he forgot all about marriage when something else clicked into place. "Is that who Professor Sage was talking about?"

"And what was that, about not eavesdropping?" Minerva said, still pushing him to the door.

Caught in his obvious lie, Harry gulped, "I might have heard some of it, accidentally. But—it was something about dying."

"Mister Potter—"

The person on the other end of the door had just figured out the doorknob. Minerva let out a sigh and Harry could tell she was trying very hard not to lose her temper.

"Sit there and wait, I will explain." She walked quickly to the door and stepped inside, speaking in a softer, more motherly tone than Harry would have expected to come out of her mouth. "Now, then, what's the matter?"

Harry was not where Minvera had left him. He was sitting a few inches to the left of his original seat on a small, overstuffed sofa, and she could only assume he had snooped around while she was gone. However, she would have to overlook it.

"You've got a kid," Harry said, stating the obvious. He had used the time alone to consider the limited facts he had gathered. "I didn't — well, I thought professors didn't have kids. I mean, since they live here and all."

"Not all professors live in the castle," Minvera corrected, though she could not fault a First Year for having such a silly thought. What young student didn't briefly consider that every teacher simply lived at school? "And he is not my son. He's a distant relative of mine, but I'm the only one who can take him. His parents..."

"Are dead." Harry mumbled. This felt all too familiar.

Minvera nodded.

"That's sad," said Harry, because that was the polite thing to say. McGonnagal nodded again.

"Yes. And you must understand, this is highly unusual. Dumbledore is being gratuitous to allow him to stay. The board of governors might disagree, and some students or professors may disagree with the decision as well. Families are not typically permitted to live in the castle. There is a reason he stays in my quarters."

"So it's a secret." Like keeping a boy under the stairs. "And he just stays in his room all day?"

"Yes," she did not seem pleased to be sharing the secret, but gave a resigned sigh, "I ask that you keep his presence here between us, Mister Potter. Moreover, he has been through a lot. It's…difficult for him to be here. The less who know about him, the better."

"I won't tell anyone," he promised. Harry felt he could relate. "If I was him, I would want to stay at Hogwarts too."

Upon returning to the dorms, Harry immediately told Ron.

A/N:Originally, this chapter was much longer because it also involved Quirrell babysitting, but that didn't match the tone of this chapter as well (he is going to be very bad at it, I'm sure you have already guessed)

That also means the next chapter will be posted very soon! Hopefully by this weekend.