Summary: Following the death of Sirius Black, Minerva McGonagall is determined to keep Harry safe – but nothing is ever quite as it seems.

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise and probably nothing else, either.

Dedication: To Minniequill.

LOVE MAGNIFICENCE

It was a moonless night – the darkness sweeping across the grand expanse of the Hogwart’s grounds – and the only light that broke the endless horizon was a dim glow from Hagrid’s hut, the lake shimmering below.

The light from the hut seemed to stretch forever – glistening across the lake, and catching the whites of the eyes of a lone figure who stood at the waters edge.

A thestral called into the cold night yet the boy seemed hardly to notice – staring haplessly against the night sky, palms pressed together and fingers entwined. And even though he knew the castle behind him was full of students and professors, Harry Potter felt entirely alone as his eyes searched the darkness.

He could not think of a reason to return to the throes of the Great Hall, nor to the end of year celebrations he was sure would follow. He could not even bring himself to return to his friends – to Ron, to Hermione – who he was sure would be waiting for him, waiting to talk, waiting to listen...

He did not want to talk nor listen.

And so, wanting to be alone, he had disappeared under his Invisibility Cloak and made his way onto the grounds – hoping to find some sort of peace in the silence.

From the head master’s window, Minerva McGonagall watched his every move – and as she did so, she felt older than she ever had done before.

“Come away from the window, Minerva” Albus Dumbledore’s words seemed to neither surprise her, nor cause her to move in the slightest. Instead she stood, resolute, gazing out through the glass panes.

“He is hurting, Albus” She whispered, crossing her arms over her chest, her tartan robe sweeping gently across the floor as she did so. She could think of nothing more to say, and the headmaster could think of nothing to say to the contrary – so instead, they stood in silence.

It was only minutes later that Minerva felt the familiar touch of Albus’ arms around her waist as he turned her back to the darkened sky, their eyes meeting.

“Albus, I think Harry must stay with us this summer”

Albus, his eyes shining with a plethora of emotions, immediately took a step back and turned, pacing the length of his office.

“That is out of the question” No sooner had he spoken the words than he already knew what her answer would be – and he was not wrong.

“Indeed it is not! I told you, Albus Dumbledore, I said that when you left the boy at that awful home sixteen years ago – ”

“ – Minerva, I have asked you not to doubt my decisions”

“I do not doubt them, my husband,” She whispered, her hands falling loosely by her side as she desperately seeked for the right words, “But perhaps I doubt the events which follow. I do not doubt your reasoning, but I do doubt Harry’s safety”

“I have thought of nothing but his safety since that night” His voice was laden with emotion, his heart heavy as he thought of Harry standing alone in the night without reason to continue. Albus knew what Sirius’s death would do to the boy, but he had never assumed Minerva’s own reaction.

“Last summer... the dementors, Albus. And this summer he will not have Sirius. I do not trust him to be alone”

“You do not trust him, or you do not trust Voldemort?”

She tensed ever so slightly at hearing The Dark Lords name, and then turned – her silhouette standing out so perfectly against the light that streamed in through the window.

It was not the first time in their marriage that Albus Dumbledore found himself quite lost for breath at her sheer beauty – the strength of her character that he saw echoed in her eyes.

“I don’t trust anyone outside these walls for the moment” Her cheeks burned as she stepped away from the window, crossing the room to take his hands in her own, “I will not have you convince me otherwise. Harry would be safer with us – where we can keep an eye on him”

“No,” Albus disagreed, removing his hand from her grasp, “Minerva – that is not the case. Harry is safest at his aunt’s house, where he is under the protec – ”

“ – I know what he is under the protection of!” She cried out, her Scottish temper shining through, “I know very well why you left him there! But he is not safe, Albus – the dementors attacked him last year!”

“I assure you Minerva, that despite what you may think, my memory is in perfect order”

“OH!” Her fury was now in her eyes, and in that moment Albus realised it was an argument he would never win, “You are a foolish old man, Albus Dumbledore”

“Minerva” He sighed heavily, wanting desperately to reach for her hand.

“NO!” She snapped, turning furiously as soon as he attempted it, “Don’t you dare touch me” And then she left the office in a fury of tartan, slamming the door behind her.

From his perch, Fawkes let out a low, mournful cry and Albus sighed, sweeping across the length of his office to gaze out at the grounds below, his eyes searching.

Quite unaware of the argument occurring in the head master’s office, Harry sat beside the edge of the lake – alone with his thoughts, his hands clenched in his fists as the realisation that he would never hear from his godfather again caused his chest to constrict, an invisible chain wrapping around his heart and rendering him speechless.

He was so deep in thought that he did not notice the figure approaching from the castle moments later – the light from Hagrid’s hut catching on the distinct silver beard of the intruder.

“Harry” Dumbledore’s voice broke his silence and he looked up quickly, unclenching his fists and standing hurriedly.

“Professor, I’m sorry... about your office... I...” But he could not seem to find the right words, and instead he sighed – his eyes not daring to meet the Dumbledore’s out of his own shame.

“I quite understand” The headmaster promised, and came to a pause beside him – his eyes flickering into the darkness and beyond, “Harry... it seems to me that you would be safest with me this summer”

“With you, sir?” Harry looked up and, despite the lateness of the hour, his shock was still vastly apparent across his features.

“Yes” Dumbledore affirmed, but said no more – and Harry seemed to understand, “You will return to your aunts, of course, but only for a brief period of time. I will collect you after a fortnight. There are things I must attend to first”

“Yes, Professor” Harry nodded, and said no more as they continued to stare out across the lake – two figures against a world of change.

Watching from her own office’s window, Minerva McGonagall smiled in dawning realisation.

- - -

“And he wants you to stay with him? Blimey!” Ron looked thoroughly shocked to hear this news, though to Hermione it did not seem wholly unexpected.

“He must care about you an awful lot, Harry” She smiled, her Charms textbook lying quite forgotten on the rug before them.

Soon after his conversation with Dumbledore, Harry had returned to the common room to find both Hermione and Ron waiting for him, just as he had expected. Harry, who had been dreading talking about Sirius, was pleased to see that the news that he would be living with Dumbledore for the summer seemed to take precedence.

“But... what will you talk about?” Ron asked, now looking more than just a little confused, “I mean... he’s the head master!”

Hermione shook her head with laughter, “Not everybody finds it as difficult to converse with those they admire as you do, Ronald”

“That’s not true!” He was indignant as he crossed his arms across his chest, his forehead furrowing as Harry watched them both with a bemused expression.

“What about Phlegm?” Hermione giggled, and Harry laughed. It was infectious, and soon all three of them were laughing as the fire in the Gryffindor common room crackled and roared, “You must write, Harry. We will try to visit if we can” She promised fervently, and Ron nodded in agreeance.

“Thanks” Harry smiled, despite the hollowness he felt in his heart at the sight of the fire burning beyond. Suddenly, everything seemed to remind him of his loss – and he was more grateful than ever to have two such friends.

“We’re here for you mate,” Ron promised, seeming to understand – and Hermione cast a look in his direction, smiling as her hair fell across her face. Momentarily distracted, Ron quickly regained his thoughts and he returned his attention to Harry, “But... if you will be staying with Dumbledore, then wont you be staying at Hogwart’s for the summer?”

It was a thought that Harry hadn’t yet considered.

“Of course not. Dumbledore must have a home somewhere. He would not stay here for the whole summer. I suspect he will keep Harry as far away from Hogwart’s as possible” Hermione said with a touch of asperity.

“Oh, right then” Ron nodded seemingly knowingly as he reached for a Chocolate Frog from the packet on the common room table, “But... how would he have time to keep a home away from Hogwarts?”

“Well, perhaps he has a family” Hermione suggested, and Ron almost choked on the frog in his mouth, spluttering and spitting rather unattractively in his shock. Curling up her noise, Hermione wiped her robes dry with the back of her hand – though Ron seemed hardly to notice, and continued to gape.

“A family!”

“Just because he is headmaster of Hogwarts doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a family” As Hermione spoke, Harry began to realise how very little he knew about Dumbledore, despite all the times they had been alone – all the events he had shared. Was it possible...?

But Harry was unable to answer even his own question, because soon after Fawkes burned in flames before him – causing Ron to call out in shock, while Hermione smiled, transfixed.

Seconds later, the Phoenix disappeared once more – and a role of parchment hovered where the flames had appeared, marked clearly with the words Harry Potter.

“That bird scared the – ” Ron began, before he was cut off.

“ – It’s for you, Harry” Hermione nodded encouragingly, though Harry suspected he already knew the contents of the letter. As his hands unrolled the parchment, he smiled.

Dear Harry,

If it is convenient to you, I shall call at number four, Privet Drive on Friday the...

And so the parchment continued in the distinctive cursive, purple handwriting – with Harry reading every word carefully, before rereading the entire thing again. Opposite him, Ron reached for another Chocolate Frog.

“Well?” Hermione asked, once he had rolled it up again and held it carefully in his hand.

“Dumbledore is going to collect me in a fortnight, just like he said. But we wont be travelling to Hogwarts” Giving a righteous smile, Hermione nodded.

“I told you so”

Ron rolled his eyes.

- - -

It was exactly a fortnight later when Dumbledore first arrived on the doorstep of Harry’s aunt and uncle – much to the horror of both Petunia and Vernon Dursley. Their only son, Dudley, had rushed upstairs in the horror of seeing such a strangely dressed man in their living room.

But to Harry, the headmaster of Hogwart’s arrival was not unexpected and it was with an awkward smile that he followed him down the Privet Drive – before Dumbledore offered him his arm. Moments later, he felt the distinct sensation of being out of breath as the air swirled around them.

When they arrived at their destination just seconds later, Harrywas faced with the magnificent sight of a grand mansion before them, forest surrounding the property.

“Professor... this is your home?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. Follow me Harry” Dumbledore nodded in the direction of the estate and they walked down the bricked path to the front of the house. It was then that Harry first saw the front door, with the letter ‘M’ engrained into the wood. Above it, the door was decorated with a stain glass windowpane that offered the first glimpse into the mansion, a staircase only just visible from behind the coloured glass.

With a flick of Dumbledore’s wand, the door opened to reveal Harry’s first proper look at the house beyond – the grand staircase disappearing above. In the lounge, a fire appeared in the fire place quite on it’s own accord – and some sort of dinner seemed to be cooking itself in the kitchen, the smell of chicken and pumpkin filling the air.

On the couch in the front of the fire, a tartan robe was thrown haphazardly over the cushions and another grand, cursive, golden ‘M’ rested on the wall beyond.

“You will find your room upstairs, Harry. Third floor – first door on your left. The house elves have already arranged your belongings”

Still feeling as though he ought not to be there, Harry looked around the lounge room once more before turning his gaze back to the wizard before him.

“Thank you, sir”

“I suspect you should be heading up to your room. Hedwig is waiting” Dumbledore offered by way of explanation, and Harry gave a small smile as he made his way up the staircase. The third step squeaked underneath his footing, and a house elf bustled past once he reached the second floor – and despite his feeling of being uncomfortable, he almost had to smile as he caught his first glance of the view from his window. A blue lake sparkled in the grounds, the expanse of forest grazing against the horizon of snow capped mountains.

He had never even imagined that Dumbledore would live in such peace – nor had he ever entertained the thought that his headmaster would live anywhere but Hogwarts. In fact, the whole situation was so new to him that he found himself quite at a loss and he would’ve continued to gather his surroundings had it not been for Hedwig hooting impatiently from her cage.

Half an hour later, after unpacking his belongings and letting Hedwig to fly the grounds, Harry returned downstairs – climbing down the three flights of stairs once more.

It wasn’t until he reached the first floor that he realised Dumbledore was not alone, and he heard a distinctively Scottish voice float from downstairs.

“You haven’t told him? Honestly, Albus...”

Instantly, Harry knew whose voice it was. Trying to be quiet, he made his way down the last flight of stairs – only to have his presence betrayed by the squeaking of the third step.

Professor Minerva McGonagall came into view a mere second later, smiling at him warmly.

“Hello, Potter”

“Professor McGonagall” Harry managed to say in his surprise, finally appearing in the lounge room. Dumbledore stood behind the couch where Harry could not but notice that the tartan robe had disappeared from view.

“I trust you found your room alright?” Minerva enquired, though Dumbledore did not meet either of their eyes.

“Yes, thank you” Harry nodded, though he was not sure to whom he was meant to direct the thanks.

As he saw Dumbledore shift quite uncharacteristically in his place, Harry began to realise exactly whose home he had entered. The ‘M’ on the door, the photos in the hall, the tartan robe...

“I suspect you must be starving. Perhaps you’d like some afternoon tea?”

“That would be great, thanks” He smiled awkwardly at his Transfiguration professor as she offered him a seat in the kitchen, though Dumbledore still had not moved and instead continued to gaze into the fire.

“A cup of tea, perhaps?” Minerva suggested and a cup and saucer immediately appeared before him. A plate of biscuits that smelt distinctly like ginger followed, “Would you like some – ”

“ – I must be going” Dumbledore finally spoke; now facing both the occupants of the kitchen.

“So soon?” Minerva asked, her voice almost betraying her, and he nodded.

“I will return later on. Harry, Professor McGonagall will be here in my absence. I trust you enjoy the Ginger Newts”

With a crack, he disappeared.

An awkward silence followed, broken only by the kettle on the stove shrilling loudly – the water bowling over the hot plate. Sighing heavily, Minerva flicked her wand and cleaned the mess, hovering the kettle over Harry’s tea cup as the water poured itself.

“You must be hungry” She smiled at him encouragingly, sitting opposite him at the mahogany table as she offered him a ginger biscuit, “I’m sorry about Professor Dumbledore, Potter. With the order... there is alot to be seen to” She offered by way of explanation, and he nodded – his mouth full of biscuit, “Have another” She smiled again, and pushed the plate in his direction.

Silence ensued and Harry, who found it unbearable, reached hurriedly for another biscuit.

“Professor...” He began, not sure quite how to approach the subject he so desperately wished to talk about.

“Yes?” Minerva McGonagall looked at him over the rim of her glasses, and suddenly he was reminded of the stern Transfiguration professor he had always known. With a sigh, he shook his head.

“These biscuits are great”

- - -

It was not until much later that evening when Albus returned back to the mansion, sweeping through the front door in robes of purple and silver stars. He glanced about the room, but Harry was nowhere to be found.

The only occupant of the room was Minerva, who was sitting on the couch in front of the roaring fire with a book in her hands. Albus smiled once his eyes settled on her form, and he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead as she looked up at him.

“Welcome home” She whispered, keeping her voice low as she gestured upstairs, “Harry is in his room”

“Harry” Albus sighed, sitting down beside her. The fire before them crackled and glowed a majestic purple, before returning to it’s original red hue – though neither of them seemed hardly to notice.

“The boy looks up to you like you would not believe, Albus Dumbledore. At least have the decency to tell him the truth”

“The truth?” Albus regarded his wife briefly, as he began to massage his temples with his fore fingers.

She closed her book and gazed at him, resolute, “Don’t you think you owe him that much?”

“Perhaps” He agreed, and then sighed, staring into the dancing flames before them, though Minerva did not take her eyes off him, “He must surely have questions to ask”

“Yes” She nodded and took her hand in his, letting their fingers curl together as he returned his eyes to her own – those eyes that seemed to go on forever, that seemed to touch the very inner of her heart.

“I will be back soon” He whispered, bringing her hand to his lips before pressing a kiss against the palm of her hand.

And as he began to walk the three flights of stairs to the guest room, the sun flooded through the lounge room window – a myriad of red and orange hues, causing Minerva’s skin to glow in the magnificent sun set.

TO BE CONTINUED

A/N: Reviews very much appreciated.