I don't own Harry Potter or anything

One

Minerva McGonagall stood in front of number 4 Privet Drive warily, her sharp eyes taking in every inch of the street. As Deputy Headmistress, it was her duty to see to the muggle born students and make sure to give them a proper introduction of the wizarding world along with explanations to parents.

Today, she wasn't going to see a muggle born, however. Today, she would be seeing Harry Potter, raised by his muggle relatives after his parents were tortured to insanity and godfather killed ten years ago, to take him to Diagon Alley.

When Albus had insisted young Mr. Potter stay with his muggle relatives, Minerva had been very vocal in her disagreement. She'd watched these Dursley's for a whole day, and they were the worst sort of muggles…

Well, she simply hoped that they would be able to put their prejudices aside and that Mr. Potter was safe and happy.

Minerva pursed her lips in remembrance of the family and strode across the street purposefully. All of the houses on Privet Drive looked exactly alike- so alike, in fact, it seemed almost unnatural. Lacking a sort of warmth and home-y feel that many neighborhoods had. She shook her head and rapped sharply on the door thrice. There was a scramble inside and what sounded like: get the door, boy!

A moment later and the door parted a crack to reveal a small boy dressed in too large gray rags.

Minerva barely refrained from gasping softly as she found herself staring into the vibrant eyes of Lily Potter.

Harry Potter was a perfect combination of his parents: Lily's eyes and hair, James' darker complexion, her lips, his cheekbones and jaw.

But there was something there, lurking in the depths of his eyes that neither Lily nor James had when they were so young. A shrewdness, a wariness that shouldn't be there.

Harry brushed his hair out of his eyes- and Merlin, he even had the mess of curls James did- and Minerva felt her face soften slightly,

"I am assuming that you are Mr. Harry Potter?"

The young boy blinked slowly, "yes ma'am. How do you know my name?"

Minerva raised a brow, "my name is Minerva McGonagall and I'm the Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If I may come in, I will explain in more detail, away from prying eyes"

As she said it, she glanced over to the neighbor, who was subtly attempting to peer over the hedges at them.

Harry hesitated a second, eyes darting around the street, before he stepped out of the way and opened the door fully.

The house seemed to be in pristine condition- all the surfaces dusted and nothing left out where it didn't belong. Hanging on the walls were muggle pictures, mostly containing a large blonde boy doing different things or with a large man with a moustache and a skinny horse like woman, who must have been the boy's parents. There were no pictures or really any evidence at all that Harry Potter lived there.

Minerva pressed her lips together even tighter and followed Harry to the sitting room.

"Boy, what's taking so long?!" A loud voice demanded rudely just as they turned into the room. Sitting on there were the three from the pictures. A plate of biscuits were sitting atop a low table and a...television was on, its screen flashing colourfully.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?" The large man said face purpling in anger. Harry turned away, lips twisting into a grimace and Minerva but back the urge do the same. Instead, she fixed the large man- Harry's Uncle no doubt- a sharp stare and a disapproving downturn of her mouth,

"My name is Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Professor at Hogwarts, where Mr. Potter has been invited to attend to learn magic with the fellow witches and wizards his age"

At the Aunt's quickly paling face, the Uncle's steadily reddening one and Harry's mild surprise, Minerva smiled thinly, "I'll take your reactions to assume you have not informed Mr. Potter of his heritage, am I correct?"

The large man struggled to his feet, "STOP! I FORBID YOU FROM SAYING ANYTHING MORE"

"Vernon!" The woman gasped in a frightened voice.

Minerva refrained from sneering and turned to Harry, "Mr. Potter, you are a wizard as were your parents. Hogwarts is a school to teach you to control your magic"

Harry's brows pulled together, "so that's what I can do, Professor? Magic?"

His eyes sparked brightly and Minerva smiled,

"Yes, that is called accidental magic. Tell me, Mr. Potter, what have you been able to do?"

"I turned my teacher's wig blue once, and when I ended up on the roof of my school" at Minerva's encouraging nod, Harry continued, more enthusiastically, "I grew back my hair when I didn't like a hair cut-" here he sent an unreadable look at the Aunt, "I also vanished a tank at the zoo"

Minerva blinked. Vanishment? Perhaps the boy would find his calling in Transfiguration much like his father.

"I can talk to snakes, too" Harry continued, "they like me"

"Snakes?" Minerva asked faintly, "are you certain?"

Harry faltered, eye's narrowing as he nodded slowly, "yes. Is that not normal for a wizard?"

She sighed, "it's a rare talent that not many have. I would...advise against unnecessarily telling people as Britain has had a bad experience with parselmouths- that is what we call those who can speak to snakes"

At seeing Harry's expression closing off, Minerva continued briskly, "that does not mean your gift is at all bad, Mr. Potter, merely that there is major prejudice against it. I would assume you got the talent from your father's line. The Potter's come from a long line of witches and wizard immigrants from places in the Middle East, Asia and Africa. I'd say parselmouths would be more common there so perhaps the talent resurfaced with you"

Harry nodded and he smiled slightly, "thank you, Professor. Professor...what do you teach?"

"I teach one of the core classes, which you will be taught for your whole Hogwarts career unless you decide to drop it after fifth year. It's a branch of magic called Transfiguration where, essentially, you turn one thing into another. There are four branches of Transfiguration: Transformation, Vanishment, Conjuration and Untransfiguration"

The eleven year old perked up, "would you do a demonstration, please?"

Minerva sent the Dursley's a small smirk and Mr. Dursley began blustering and protesting again. She pointed her wand at the plate of biscuits and transfigured it into a cat. The youngest Dursley jumped up with a shout of alarm and Mrs. Dursley let out a little scream. Mr. Dursley turned puce, "now see here-!"

Minerva turned the cat back into a biscuit and fixed the man a frigid look, "I will be taking you to Diagon Alley now to get his school supplies, if that is alright with you, Mr. Potter"

Harry grinned at her, eyes warming and crinkling, "yes, please, Professor...but I don't have much money"

"You shouldn't have any money you freak" Vernon Dursley snarled, lurching a step towards the green eyed boy.

Minerva directed her wand at the muggle, "I'd caution you from threatening my students, Mr. Dursley"

That stopped the man in his tracks and Harry shot her a thankful glance.

"As for you, Mr. Potter, you're parents left you a vault and have already paid for your tuition, so we only need to stop at Gringotts, our bank"

Harry's smile widened, "thank you Professor McGonagall"

Minerva nodded and withdrew the Hogwarts acceptance letter from her robes, "I should have given this to you at the beginning"

The boy opened it carefully with nimble fingers and he read through the list of required material. When he looked back up, he was practically glowing, "and I can get all of this, then?- Is there some sort of wizarding shopping district?"

"Yes, not too far from here in fact. If you take my arm, I will be apparating us to the Leaky Cauldron, which is the entrance to Diagon Alley"

Harry reaches for her arm tentatively and once she was sure his hand was firmly gripping her arm, Minerva spun on her heel and they were gone with a sharp crack.

-

"How did my parents die?"

Minerva and her charge of the day were currently seated in a private booth at the Leaky Cauldron for a light lunch. They had already done most of the shopping for school supplies and Harry only needed a wand now.

Minerva blinked, her mind blanking.

"I mean, Aunt Petunia always told me my dad was a drunk who got them killed in a car crash and-"

"Mr. Potter" Minerva cut him off softly, "Harry, your parents aren't dead"

She watched as he froze, his lips parted slightly and his eyes wide and uncertain. Her heart ached for him. After a moment, he visibly swallowed, "what- what do you mean, professor?"

Minerva sighed and closed her eyes briefly to collect herself. She wished to not tell the boy, but Harry deserved to know, "there was a war, as you know, Mr. Potter. Your parents fought against the Dark- a faction led by a Dark Lord. The Dark Lord thought pureblood wizards and witches- those who come from a long line of only witch and wizard ancestors- were superior to others. He thought muggles were inferior, that they were to be killed or worse and that muggleborn- wizards or witches who's parents are muggles like your mother- were meant for the same thing. Your parents fought against the Dark faction and when- when you were a year old- well, the Dark Lord was just defeated by Neville Longbottom, and two of the more notorious dark followers got to your house because a friend of your parents, Peter Pettigrew, betrayed them and they tortured James and Lily into- into insanity"

"Who were they?" Harry asked softly, but his voice was steady and there was a fury burning in his eyes.

"Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. Rodolphus was killed by Sirius Black- your godfather, who also took down Pettigrew when he died and the Aurors caught Bellatrix. She currently resides in Azkaban Prison with a life sentence"

Harry remained very still, his dark green eyes glazed slightly.

"Mr. Potter?" Minerva prodded softly, "I'm sure they are extremely proud of you"

His hands trembled slightly as he looked up at her, "where are they?"

"St Mungos, one of the best magical hospitals"

Harry nodded slowly, "can I go see them"

Minerva felt her chest clench at the large, pleading eyes and desperate voice, "of course. I'll take you after we've gotten your wand"

"Thank you" the eleven year old murmured, his face pinched slightly and his mouth set in a deep frown.

The rest of lunch was a very quiet affair. Minerva found herself reminiscing on the days where the Marauders roamed Hogwarts and a stubborn, brilliant and kind red haired girl yelled at them for their pranks.

After lunch, she took Harry to the Owl Emporium for a birthday present. The boy wouldn't stop babbling thank you for a whole minute and Minerva suspected he hadn't gotten a proper gift with his relatives before.

And then they were in front of Ollivander's.

The bell jingled a quiet melody somewhere in the back of the shop as they entered.

It looked much the same as the last time she'd come- granted, that was only a few weeks ago when she'd come with the last muggleborn she'd introduced to the wizarding world.

Little boxes stacked the room from floor to ceiling and there was a sort of ambient magic that seemed to saturate every inch of the shop which made the air charged and heavy. Not in a bad way, but the way Hogwarts felt.

"Good afternoon" came a whispery voice and Minerva shook her head in amusement as she heard Harry's sharp intake of breath of shock.

Ollivander did so love surprising his customers way too much.

"Hello" Harry said.

Mr. Ollivander's moon like eyes widened as he leaned forwards, "Ah, yes. I was wondering when I'd be seeing you here, Mr. Potter. I dare say you have quite a lot of your mother in you. Seems only yesterday that she was in here, buying her first wand- willow, ten and a quarter inches, swishy. A good wand for charm work" The man leaned forwards even more- Minerva was slightly worried he'd tip over, so far over like that to peer at her student.

"Your father, in the other hand, favored mahogany. Eleven inches, pliable and excellent for Transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it, but, of course, it's really the wand that chooses the wizard"

"Mr. Ollivander" Minerva called sharply, "if you would save your dramatics, we have another trip we must make after this"

Ollivander sobered quickly and took a step back, "yes- yes, of course. Now, Mr. Potter...let's see. What's your wand arm?"

"I'm right handed, sir" Harry told him, "are some wands made for right handed people and others specifically for the left handed?"

But Ollivander just hummed and muttered something about narrowing down choices.

Harry frowned but his attention was quickly preoccupied with the tape measure starting to measure the boy by itself. Minerva hid a smile behind a hand. The boy really was curious, having asked at least a hundred prudent questions earlier in the shopping trip. If he wasn't put in Ravenclaw(though there was a real possibility of Slytherin, she was beginning to realize), the sorting hat would definitely consider it heavily.

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use Phoenix feathers, Unicorn hairs and Heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are quite the same just as no two phoenixes, unicorns or dragons are the same. And you get as good results with another's wand, of course…that will do"

The tape measure fell to the floor in a heap.

"Right" Ollivander muttered, fingers trailing over the boxes before settling on one and pulling it out and handing the wand to the Potter, "here. Beechwood, dragon heartstring, nine inches, flexible. Give it a wave, go on"

Harry waved it a bit but Ollivander snatched it back, "no, no, afraid not- here-" he picked up another, "Maple, Phoenix feather- try—"

That too was snatched away.

Wand after wand was tried and the boxes of unfitting wands grew higher and higher. Minerva watched her student and the wand maker curiously.

"Tricky customer, eh?" The old, wispy man looked giddy, "not to worry, we'll find a match in here somewhere. Now, let's see…"

He marched back among the stacks of wands, humming a tune Minerva didn't recognize. Seconds later, he re-emerged, "we'll, let's see. Interesting combination- this wand has been rather picky and temperamental but I suppose it wouldn't hurt….well, give this one a try, Mr. Potter. Ebony, thirteen inches, dragon heartstring. Nice and supple"

The wand was very beautiful. Sleek and polished and a black so dark it almost looked like black glass if the light hit it a certain way.

Harry took the wand and his eyes widened comically, a blissful smile curling his lips and an almost feverish glint in his eyes. Power bloomed across the room, warm but wary and protective. It lashed out as if tasting the air, before pulling back in and coiling around the boy again. The shop settled, the echo of Harry's magic only a whisper.

"Oh, bravo!" Mr. Ollivander cried, clapping his hands, "yes indeed, Mr. Potter. A unique wand for a unique wizard. Good wand for combative magic and Transfiguration" he fixed the young boy an intense look, "I think we can expect great things from you, Mr. Potter"

-

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky and cast everything in a warm glow as Minerva apparated then to St Mungos.

The witch at the front desk was extremely reluctant to let them visit the Potter's at the Janus Thickey Ward, stating that they'd already had a visitor today and it could be overwhelming with more- not only for the Potter's but for the others as well.

All it took was for Harry to peek his head up at the woman and fix her with his big eyes that so resembled Lily's, however, for her to change her mind.

Despite the circumstances, Minerva felt almost amused. She didn't know if the boy was being manipulative on purpose or not, but it succeeded very well. If only Harry would be sorted into Slytherin. Severus would have a heart attack.

They made their way up to the fourth floor. Harry seemed to quiet with each step forward until Minerva couldn't even hear his footsteps tapping against the polished floors.

St Mungos wasn't very crowded but there were still Healers and mediwixen bustling about and making rounds. A few, who seemed to recognize Harry, shot them pitying looks.

Minerva clenched her teeth to withhold a sigh as they stopped in front of the Janus Thickey Ward. An older, kind looking witch with curls of gray hair and a wizard with a stern visage but laugh lines around his eyes were exiting the ward as they came.

"Oh!" The witch gave a light exclamation, "I'm assuming you're escorting Mr. Potter, correct?"

At Minerva's decisive nod, she beamed, "right. Right through here. Lily's up"

Minerva pushed Harry through the door gently and then stepped through herself. The voices of the two Healers faded considerably with the separation but she could still make out the man's quiet,

"Are you sure they should be there-? The Potters- already had Mr. Lupin stop by-"

"Oh hush, Jason Brown, that's their son, the poor dear"

"Yes, I am aware, but-"

"If you think I'd refuse to-"

Their voices disappeared and Minerva assumed they'd turned a corner so she turned her attention back to the room.

The ward was nice, quiet with neatly arranged beds with privacy curtains and simple decorations.

Her gaze immediately settled on the red haired woman standing by a bed and clad in a shapeless gown. Her green eyes were a little unfocused as she paced a bit.

"Lily" Minerva cleared her throat and blinked several times, "Harry is here to see you. Your son"

She nudged Harry forwards but he was already approaching,

"Hello Mum"

It was so soft she barely heard it.

"Professor McGonagall's told me about you a little. I'm Harry- Harry Potter"

Lily blinked and Harry beamed,

"I just learnt about magic today. It's really fascinating. I'll be going to Hogwarts this year- September 1st. I'm really excited"

Slowly, Lily started digging around for something. She furrowed her brow and opened her palm out to Harry, who took whatever was offered.

"Green" she said simply.

Minerva peered at what was now clenched in Harry's fist. It was the dark green wrapper of a watermelon flavored drooble's gum.

"Thank you" Harry held the wrapper tighter.

He babbled to his mother for a few more minutes, uncaring that she didn't respond before he directed his attention to the bed to his other side.

Minerva exhaled shakily.

James Potter was reclined there, muttering to himself about something or another. Minerva distinctly heard "pranks- but Sirius said-" and "bottom of- but no- Moony would never-"

"Hi dad" Harry whispered.

Minerva turned away slightly to give her student more privacy.

It was horrid, what had happened to two of her former lions. She liked to visit them once in a while but sometimes it was hard to see what the Cruciatus had done to them. This was the first time she'd come in almost two months.

Minerva checked her watch before glancing outside. The sun was going down quickly, leaving a darkened, star speckled sky.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry turned quickly, lashes fluttering and Minerva felt her stomach twist at the slightly red rims of his eyes.

"It's getting late, and I will have to bring you back to your relatives…" she hesitated for a moment before clearing her throat, "I or one of the other staff can take you here to visit over the winter holidays if you'd like"

Harry gave one last longing glance at the figures of his parents before turning to face her, cheeks flushing as he nodded.

Minerva took his elbow and led them out of the Ward. Harry was quiet but thoughtful the whole way down, only opening his mouth to ask a question once they were outside,

"How long- I mean...you said they were tortured but- how much does it take to- to- were they...were they weak?" He finished in a barely audible whisper.

Minerva twitched, "no, no they were not weak. They were- are some of the strongest people I knew. To your other question- well, only two minutes can be enough to cause some permanent damage. By the time the aurors got there, it had been longer than ten"

Harry stared at her, expression frozen and eyes unreadable for a long moment before it cleared, "Professor, I have two more questions before I have to go back to the Dursleys"

At her nod, he continued, "the letter said I have to owl back a response. Does that still apply? And the train ticket...what does it mean nine and three quarters?"

Minerva smirked, "I will take your acceptance directly, as such there is no need to send your owl. The platform nine and three quarters is between platforms nine and ten at Kings Cross. The wall is the barrier, so simply walk through it"

"Okay" he sounded a bit skeptical but nodded dutifully nonetheless.

"And one more thing" Minerva scowled briefly, "if those Dursley's start giving you any trouble, feel free to threaten them with me. Remember, using magic outside of Hogwarts is not permitted, however, if there really is a problem, you may send me a letter"

The glint in the boy's eyes positively radiated revenge, "thank you, Professor"

"It is not a problem, Mr. Potter. Come along now"

As Minerva left her charge with his relatives, she wished she could have done something so Harry didn't have to be back at that miserable place. But it was of no use wallowing in what if's and if onlys so she quickly pulled herself together and apparated to the edges of the anti-apparition wards surrounding Hogwarts. She strode up to the castle, nodding stiffly to Hagrid as she passed and made her way to the Headmaster's office.

"Fizzing Whizbees" she said to the Stone gargoyle guarding the entrance and it jumped aside. Minerva rolled her eyes. The Headmaster and his obsession with sweets was trying at the best of times.

"Ah, Professor McGonagall" the Headmaster greeted jovially, "how was Mr. Potter?"

"I still say you should not have left him with those muggles" Minerva grumbled irritably, "but Mr. Potter was perfectly polite.. if a bit distant and wary. Asked a lot of questions. I took him to see his parents"

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, "and he seemed alright?"

"As good as anyone in that situation" Minerva snapped before sighing, "I hate seeing them like that. They didn't deserve it and they were so young"

"I know" Dumbledore sighed, "another family torn apart"

She nodded with another heavy sigh. It was quiet for a few beats, in which the Headmaster popped a Lemon drop in his mouth and Minerva went over the last few hours in her mind.

"There was one other peculiar thing, however" she tapped her fingers on the desk, "Albus, was there any history of parselmouths in James' line?"

He sat up straight in his seat, blue eyes twinkling in curiosity, "parselmouth you say? I suppose- James' grandmother was a Black and they could possibly be connected to Slytherin in some way and the Potter's...I suppose it could have come from them too- the Potter's were immigrants were they not?"

Minerva agreed with a nod and Dumbledore thought for another moment before shrugging, "I suppose we may never know. Am I to take it young Harry's a parselmouth then?"

"Yes, he told me when I met him"

The old wizard stroked his beard in thought, "that is interesting. I'll have to watch him then"

"You will not be judging that boy because of that ability" Minerva shot to her feet, "honestly, Albus, I know that the last parselmouth turned out to become a dark wizard but that does not mean that Harry Potter will! Look at Pettigrew for goodness sake. Just because he became traitor, doesn't mean that now all of the Gryffindor's are evil. Gryffindor has just the same stereotype as it did before all of this"

"Of course, Minerva, I am all too aware. I meant nothing of that, except, perhaps, mere curiosity"

She deflated slightly but fixed the Headmaster a piercing look, "I should hope so"

But the widened old wizard had gone back to unsticking two lemon drops. Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose.

Honestly.