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“Harry, where are you?” Minerva McGonagall called out from the kitchen. 6 years old Harry waddled in, wearing pyjamas that were two sizes too big and full of holes. “What are you wearing?” she looked over her thin glasses. She was wearing her favourite robe, the beige cotton was populated by bluejays, each with a flower in its beak.
“I got these from Dudley,” Harry mumbled without looking up. This was their first morning together. The day before she picked her up from the Dursleys. After months of spying on the rotten muggles, she had enough. The way they treated the poor boy was completely unacceptable. Finally, she marched into Albus’s office and fought with all her might until the old wizard gave in and let her take Harry in.
“You mean they gave you his trash,” Minerva shook her head. “We will fix that. Today we will buy you some nice, new clothes for you,” she started nodding to herself. “Something to show the handsome, young man you are. Although, if I learned anything all those years ago, there is no taming that hair of yours,” the thought of James made her sniffle.
“I don’t have any money,” he stared at his socks. Minerva added fluffy slippers to her mental shopping list.
“Oh, silly boy. You do have money, but you had better save that for your education. You live under my roof now, I will clothe you,” it was hard to believe how submissive and shy the boy was. All she wanted was to scratch out the eyes of that horrible woman, who dared call herself his aunt. Albus made a terrible mistake 6 years ago, but she would fix it. It was not too late. “Now, take a seat,” she pointed at the chair across from her. “It is quite rude to make someone wait for so long. The toast has gone all cold,” with a swish of her wand the slices flew back to the toaster.
“I am sorry,” he climbed up on the big chair. He was barely visible over the edge of the table. Minerva quickly picked up a pillow and put it under him. “I can only go into the kitchen when Dudley is done.”
“No need to apologise. And this is your kitchen too, so you can come in anytime you want,” his small mouth opened and closed as he tried to process. She knew that there would be so many other things like this, before he could relax and become his true self, for probably the first time ever. “How do you like your tea?” she fumbled with the teapot.
“I don’t know,” the green eyes looking back at her almost made her cry.
“Don’t tell me those bloody muggles are coffee people?” her knuckles went white around the delicate porcelain. Little Harry nodded shyly. She could take a lot, but this… “I will teach you. Bring me the kettle.”
-
It took Remus Lupin one year to work up the courage to visit the Potter-McGonagall Residence. That exact phrase was painted on the letterbox outside the tidy little cottage. For a moment longer he stood before the closed door. Then he knocked, swallowing hard.
“Come in,” he heard Minerva call out and the door opened by itself. One of the living room armchairs was occupied by a small boy. He was the exact copy of James. Slightly smaller than the first time he met him all those years ago, but no doubt a Potter.
“You must be Remus,” Harry went up to him and offered him his hand. “I have heard so much about you,” the eyes. Remus couldn’t take it and broke down crying. He sat down on the couch burying his face in his hands. He felt a little hand petting his arm. “Would you like a biscuit?” Harry was standing in front of him with a tin box of Christmas biscuits. No doubt he was living with Minerva. The sight of the familiar box made him smile through his tears.
“Thank you,” Remus took one and smiled. “You look so much like your father,” he dried up his tears before Minerva entered the room with a tray holding a tea set.
“But my eyes are my mum’s,” Harry said proudly. So was his smile, Remus noted and his heart clenched.
“Yes, dear,” Minerva placed everything on the coffee table. As a greeting, she squeezed Remus’s shoulder. The same way she did when he was 11. And it still worked wonders. “Harry, pour some tea for us please.”
“Yes, Minnie,” he picked up the teapot with ease and turned to her first.
“Nah, nah,” she covered her cup. “Who do we serve first?”
“Ah yes, the guest first,” he turned to Remus and poured him some tea. The grace of Lily was written all over him.
“Thank you,” he watched the steaming liquid in his cup.
“Minnie and I, we made a photo album of Mum and Dad,” Harry pointed at the book sitting on the table between them.
“I couldn’t put dates and locations for all the photos,” Minerva smiled and leaned back in her chair. “I thought you might enlighten us,” she offered. “If you are ready.”
“I don’t think I will ever be ready,” he sighed and reached out, hands shaking for the book. On the cover, someone, probably Harry, drew a dear and some blossoming lily flowers.
“That’s okay,” Harry grabbed the book and hopped onto the couch next to him. “Minnie said that just because something makes us sad, it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it,” he said, placing the album on Remus’s lap and looking up at him.
“Well, Minnie is quite smart, isn’t she,” Remus opened the album. The first photo was of him, James, Sirus and Peter, as in their first years, scarves flying and smiles wide. He bit his lip and felt the tears dwell in his eyes.
“She is the best,” Harry reached out and his small hand grabbed Remus’s, resting on the book.
“I will grab us some tissues,” Minerva shuffled out and Remus could hear her sniffling on the way.
A couple of hours later Minerva walked him to the door.
“I am so glad you finally came,” she smiled at Remus. “Harry was so excited to meet you. I think he has so many more questions about his parents only you can answer.”
“I am more than happy to,” he hesitated before apparating. “You are doing a great job. They would be so happy that he is with you.”
“Thank you,” she cupped his face in a wrinkled hand. It smelt like lavender and scrolls, just like it used to. “I missed you too, my little Marauder,” she whispered. All Remus could do was nod and hold in a sob. “See you soon?”
“Very soon,” Remus apparated away and the last thing he saw was Minerva wiping away a tear as she turned to go inside.