A/N: Prompts listed at the bottom as always.

Decisions, Accidents and Motherhood.

November 2nd 1981

Minerva McGonagall did not think of herself as a sheep. She had never followed trends. Nor did she mindlessly align with a cause, unless she truly wanted to, and had done her research beforehand.

Unfortunately, that might have been the case the majority of the time, but there was one exception to her inner rule. That exception was Albus Dumbledore. Minerva and Albus had been close for many years. He had been her professor, her mentor, and then eventually, one of her closest friends. She had long trusted his judgement. But now, as she watched him place a blanket-wrapped Harry Potter in front of the navy blue door of Number Four Privet Drive, she felt let down.

Minerva had watched these relatives of Potter's all day, and they were the worst type of people imaginable. The large, wobbly man with a non-existent neck — Vernon Dursley — had tried to shoo her. She had been most perturbed by his actions and had simply stared at him, unmoving. Once he had gone to work, Minerva had been left to watch Petunia Dursley — Lily Potter's sister — be kicked, prodded, and punched by her rotund son, Dudley. In her opinion, the child needed a firm hand. On top of that, she firmly believed that Harry Potter did not belong here. She had, of course, recounted all of these details to Albus, but he simply insisted that he was right. Normally, when he did this, Minerva would sigh because deep in her heart, she knew that he was indeed correct.

This time, she was sure he was wrong.

When Albus stepped away from the door and strode back to join Minerva, she fixed him with a concerned look. 'Are you sure, Albus, that this is truly the best place for him?'

'Alas, these are his only relatives,' he responded. 'This is where he belongs.'

He drew his Put-Outer from the pocket of his robes and flicked the top upwards. The large orbs of light he'd stolen upon his arrival amongst the neatly-trimmed lawns of Privet Drive zoomed back to their original lamp posts. With it safely back in his pocket, he turned back to Minerva. 'Will you be joining a party on your way back to the castle, Minerva?'

'Quite frankly, I'm not really in the partying mood,' she retorted.

Minerva was almost tempted to suggest again that this might not be the best place for the young Potter, but Albus was nothing if not stubborn. This was the first time, however, she felt disappointed. She was hurt that he would not take her observations into account. Minerva had thought their trust had gone both ways, but clearly, it did not.

'In that case, my dear Professor McGonagall, I will see you on your return to the castle,' Albus said.

'Of course.'

Minerva shifted into her Animagus form on instinct. She would walk to a safe Apparation point as she needed some time to clear her thoughts. There was a faint pop behind her. Naturally, Headmaster Dumbledore could Apparate wherever he liked with no worries that the Ministry would rain hell on him. She had almost reached the end of the street when she felt a pang of guilt for agreeing to leave Harry on the doorstep. Actually, she hadn't agreed; she had just simply let Albus do whatever he thought best.

Minerva glanced back at Number Four, its bricks painted with the dull orange glow of the street light, and then crossed back over the road. The soft pads of her feet were cold against the damp pavement and she suddenly wished her Animagus was a long-haired cat, but she pushed her selfish thoughts away.

She couldn't leave Harry Potter with those people — she wouldn't betray James and Lily like that.

August 15th 1983

She was exhausted. Long nights of Harry waking up with nightmares and refusing to sleep alone were draining all of Minerva's energy. It had certainly not occurred to her when she took on the responsibility of looking after a toddler that it would be quite this difficult. Besides, she was not going to let another messy-haired Potter run circles around her.

Yawning widely, she waved her wand to heat the teapot, the same way her Mum always had. Over the past nine months, Minerva had found herself thinking more and more about her parents and how they'd raised her and her brothers. Now, it seemed that they must have had an inexhaustible amount of patience, something that she was struggling with.

She was in even worse spirits when the Prophet arrived, the front page emblazoned with a headline about the Defence Against the Dark Arts position which was open at Hogwarts once again.

Albus had not written back in response to her resignation — their relationship had become extremely strained. He had not even realised that Minerva had taken Harry for over three months after the fact. The thought still incensed her. He had clearly had no intent of checking up on Harry, on ensuring the Dursleys were good guardians. In Albus' mind, Harry had become a problem that he no longer had to think about and she could not stand that.

"Min!"

Harry beamed at her, with his hair falling into his eyes. He had needed a haircut for a few weeks now, his hair constantly reminding Minerva of James. The smile was so happy and innocent that she felt herself soften, reaching down to pick him up.

"Good morning Harry."

He giggled and hugged her around the neck, still obviously sleepy.

"Morn'in' Min."

So the daily routine began again.

Recently Harry had been particularly fussy about clothes and what he wanted to wear. Wishing to avoid that battle she propped him on her hip and decided to stay in the kitchen, a flick of her wand pulling a brass pan from the drawer.

"Porridge for breakfast I think," she said and Harry nodded.

"Hungry."

"Well, we won't have to wait long."

Harry fidgeted, his hands messing with Minerva's hair as she prepared breakfast for then both. Somehow Harry seemed to find knots she'd missed whilst brushing her hair this morning.

"I want hair," Harry said suddenly.

"Harry, you have hair," Minerva said, ruffling it as though to prove a point.

"No, like yours, like Min's."

She rolled her eyes and managed to distract him with selecting one of his favourite bowls from the cupboard. Harry selected a blue one with flowers and Minerva sat him at the table whilst she attended to the porridge. It was coming along nicely. Harry banged his spoon on the table and began chanting por—ridge por—ridge over and over again. Although, it sounded more like paw—widge than anything else.

Sighing she turned around and took a step towards the table. "Harry, it can't come any faster."

"PAW—WIDGE."

Suddenly something thick and gloopy hit Minerva from behind. Harry started giggling, a funny glint in his wide green eyes. She turned quickly just to be hit in the face with lukewarm porridge. Another ball of oats rose from the saucepan and Minerva quickly cast a shield. The porridge hit an invisible wall and slid slowly down. Harry was laughing hard as Minerva followed the drops of porridge dripping down her shield to the flood, astonished.

It wasn't the first time Harry had done magic but it certainly was one of the more powerful examples of childhood accidental magic that she'd ever seen.

"Harry —"

She stopped short as four more globs of porridge came flying out of the pan. This time they didn't zoom in Minerva's direction, instead each when to a different corner of the room, one splattering against the ceiling.

Harry was shrieking and clapping his hands.

The situation rapidly escalated until, as his grand finale, Harry caused a large porridge monster to swell from the pan, growing in size and reminding Minerva of an old horror movie she had seen in her youth involving a monster called 'The Blob'.

"Stop this nonsense immediately!"

Several spells led to a temper tantrum and then they were having toast for breakfast half an hour later. Minerva ran a hand through her hair, glancing again at the Daily Prophet that had porridge stains across it. Perhaps in a year or two, as Minerva had explained in her letter, she would return to teaching. Certainly when Harry was old enough, she might even look into him attending muggle primary school or something similar; it would be a way for him to learn about his mother's culture as well.

In the immediate time being however Minerva was committed to taking care of her new ward. The guardianship papers had been finalised thanks to the links she still had with various people at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Albus had been furious when he had found out that she had been caring for Harry, after appearing at her house unexpectedly for tea one afternoon and finding her preparing to put Harry down for a nap.

Minerva refused to be defeated. Albus clearly had realised that, now all she could hope was that he would see reason. He had not, as she had feared, taken Harry away and sent him back to the Dursleys. She would never let that happen. Nevertheless, when it became public knowledge that she was going to take a few years of leave from Hogwarts to care for the Boy — Who — Lived, well, Minerva wished to have her best friend at her side.

Maybe she should write to him again and extend an olive branch, invite him over to spend time with Harry and herself. Perhaps for breakfast… no, tea, Minerva thought to herself. Breakfast with a toddler discovering magic was proving to be an experience she would not wish on anyone.

May 27th 1988

Harry was spending his Saturday morning playing in a nearby park with a friend from his Muggle Primary School. Minerva decided, whilst she had the cottage to herself, that she would catch up on her marking in the kitchen whilst baking scones. Counteracting the laborious task of marking with one of her favourite pastimes had long been a tradition for Minerva.

It was oddly quiet without Harry in the house. His confidence, his laugh, made the house bright with colour, and she'd grown used to it — fond even.

Minerva's eyes flickered to the clock. It was seven minutes to twelve; seven minutes until she was suppose to pick Harry up. She was looking forward to picking him up; they'd planned to visit the nearby castle. Harry had made it his personal mission to make her take him on a castle outing as much as possible.

She finished up her marking, took a light scarf and jacket, and prepared to apparate to an area near the park where she wouldn't be seen.

She was immediately glad for her scarf as, despite it being May, there was still a nip in the damp air after several weeks of rain. Crossing the road and following the shrieks of children that were audible even behind the treeline, Minerva found herself nodding and smiling to the other parents gathered around in huddles on the fringes of the playground.

"Min!" Harry yelled at the sight of her. He was standing on the top of the jungle gym about to hurtle down a slide and even from this distance she could see a large grass — stain on the right leg of his trousers. She sighed, thinking to herself that it was getting to the point where she should be sponsored by 'Mrs Skower's All—Purpose Magical Mess Remover', the amount she had to buy to keep Harry's clothes and the house clean.

Minerva smiled but Harry did not look happy. Instead he threw himself down the slide, expression mutinous.

"It can't be time to go yet! We haven't finished our game Min!"

"I'm afraid it is Harry. Come on, Peter's got to go home as well for lunch. I've made your favourite sandwiches with the cheese you like and I am looking forward to the castle we're going to visit —"

Harry cut her off, crossing his arms furiously.

"Peter doesn't have to go! We're still playing and I don't want to go to the castle now."

"Harry," Minerva lowered her voice, unimpressed with his attitude. He came with her very reluctantly, waving goodbye to his friend Peter. Minerva caught the eye of Peter's Mum who gave a knowing smile and nod. Thankful to avoid small talk she steered Harry back towards a quieter area of the park where she was going to apparate them to the castle.

"It's not fair!" Harry said suddenly, as they rounded a bend. "I don't want to go so why are you making me go!"

Taking a slow breath, Minerva gathered her patience.

"Once we get there I am sure you'll find something to enjoy about the experience. Furthermore, we made a commitment and agreement to go to the castle today, plans are something we should try and stick too."

She could tell it was going in one ear and out the other as Harry looked more and more mutinous. After all this time, Minerva recognised the look with ease and braced herself. Harry could be impressively stubborn.

He kept shouting about how she never listened to him, a typical tirade of tantrums and crocodile tears which she decided to remain impassive too, hoping he would soon tire himself.

"It's not fair!"

"Harry, look how you're acting. Can we please —"

"DON'T IGNORE ME! I SAID IT'S NOT FAIR!" Harry stamped his foot, truly making a scene now but that was not what was concerning Minerva. As he had shouted she felt his magic whip around and then the tree that was overhead cracked ominously. She barely had time to push her hand out, a spell grabbing Harry around the waist before the whole tree tipped forward. It toppled forward and Minerva did her best to transfigure it into something small, something harmless but several fragments fractured from the bark and left her with a cut on her cheek.

"Min…"

Harry's eyes were filling with tears — this time from fear, not anger.

"It's alright Harry," Minerva said immediately, more shaken than she would like to admit. "I'm fine."

"You're hurt. I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know, I know. Oh come now," She did her best to soothe him and quickly tapped her wand to her cheek, healing the small cut. "You see? It really is fine. I never lie to you, do I."

He shook his head, still looking worried.

"Although, this does remind me that we do need to practice some of the techniques Albus suggested, to curb your enthusiastic magic," Minerva mused to herself. Harry perked up slightly at the mention of the Headmaster who was by far his favourite babysitter. It hadn't taken long for Albus to realise that Minerva taking care of Harry was good for the pair of them. Harry needed someone who loved him and he, in turn, filled a hole that Minerva hadn't realised was in her life.

"Now, if you're quite finished," Minerva began, some of her habitual sternness creeping into her voice, "Perhaps we can go home for some lunch? I could rather do with a sandwich after all this drama and adventure."

Harry nodded but when he took her hand in preparation to apparate it was with an almost painfully tight grip. She waited patiently, watching his face. As well as being stubborn, for an eight year old boy Harry had a sharp mind and thought things over deeply.

"I'm sorry. Not just for the magic, for shouting and complaining," Harry explained, his voice subdued as he hung his head.

Minerva bent down to look him directly in the eye.

"Apology accepted Mr Potter. Now, let us move on. Remember not to let go."

"I know, you tell me every time," Harry muttered, shaking off his sombre airs as some of his attitude made a reappearance.

The kitchen table had their places set and soon Harry was busy biting into a ham and cheese sandwich, regaling Minerva with tales from the playground. She listened, content with the change in mood and small win. The strength of Harry's accidental magic would need further exploration and there would be more arguments, over what vegetables were appropriate for consumption and bedtimes stories needing 'just one more chapter'.

As she watched Harry dutifully eat his crusts she smiled slightly.

"So tell me what you're most looking forward to seeing this afternoon."

None of the trials or difficult periods in her life had prepared her to raise a child. It was still the most challenging job Minerva could ever imagine and yet she refused to contemplate life without Harry in it. Her friends liked to tease that she had it easy until he became a teenager, like being back at Hogwarts for the past few years had not reminded her of that. Nevertheless, for every spat, there were loud laughs and stick men drawings to decorate her office. Every day was yet another memory.

"Love you, Min," Harry said sleepily that evening, after a long day where Minerva had lost Harry only to find he'd gotten into a very intense discussion with a ghost in the castle dungeon.

She left the dragon night light glowing softly in the corner of the room and felt her heart swell. Whenever she doubted herself, hearing those three words always made everything worth it.

"I love you too, Harry."

A/N:

Written for Round 9 of the QLFC, I am a Beater for the Montrose Magpies. Also written for the One Character Competition

Prompts used include:

- A kitchen setting
- Navy Blue

- Disappointment
- Grass Stain

- Exhausted

- Defeated

Thank you to my amazing team and betas as always