I own nothing but Minerva's mother and the plot line.

I know I'm terrible about starting new stories, but I can't seem to help myself. I'll get them all finished one day.

Please review and enjoy!

HARRY AND THE CRESENT SCAR

Night Talk

Woken from a nightmare, she padded down the old hall way. Being barefoot help her navigate without being heard as she gently opened a bedroom door and stared at the scar headed child sleeping peacefully. She entered fully and bent slightly by the bed her finger stroking over the scar and her spine tingled as she felt the black magic with in the wound. The little boy did not stir as he slept. She kissed his scared head and turned to leave stifling a gasp at seeing her daughter staring at her.

Minerva watched her mother leave the bedroom of her son quietly as both shut the door.

"What were you doing?"

"I had a fright and wanted to check on him."

"What about?"

"I'm an old woman I get frights occasionally."

"You are hardly old mother."

"I'm hardly young either. Come, tea downstairs."

Down in the kitchen the two women sipped chamomile tea staring at each other.

"Big day tomorrow."

Minerva nodded.

"Pity Albus called you back early."

Minerva just stared at her.

"Fine, I won't buy him a broom."

"Thank you."

"At what point did I become the child?"

"When you decided to over rule my every decision in my child's life."

"Don't get so uppity missy. Without me everyone would know you kidnapped the boy who lived."

"Mother..."

"Sorry evidently we are both snippy this early in the morning."

"Do you want to discuss the nightmare?"

"I am fine Minerva, honestly."

"Why is his glamor off?"

"I always lower my charms at night. It's a very draining spell Minerva."

"I know mother and I greatly appreciate you're willingness to perform such a powerful spell, but what if someone came at night?"

"The spell would be on him fast enough. I may be getting a bit senile, but I've not forgotten the dark spells of my youth."

Minerva reached over the table taking her mother's hand stroking a half moon scar on her inner left palm.

The old woman watched her daughter staring at the scar.

"It's time we get back to bed. We have a little boy waking as an eleven year old in a few short hours."

Minerva nodded sending the cups to the sink and the two women went back to their rooms.

Alone in her bedroom, Minerva lay in bed tears pooling and falling down her face. Before her eyes she could see as if it were yesterday her father murdered by Gellert himself and her beloved mother tortured for information on the very man they hid Harry Potter from, Albus Dumbledore.

The McGonagalls had once been loyal to the wizard, but that trust was shattered years ago.