With a faint pop, Minerva McGonagall aparated in front of a large Manor house, somewhere in ...Scotland, in Scotland yes, judging by the wild surroundings, the tartan sofa and the bottles of scotch that were placed on the coffee table. The witch entered her living room and smirked. Indeed, her house didn't look like the place for a little child, and she, a stern, workaholic, and rather fond of drinking, old witch, didn't seem the person to take care of a child. But she sighed, she was the best for the job, rather her than a mad auror, a monster lover half giant, or an old lunatic whose house was littered with sweets of all kinds, and who, in spite of being the greatest wizard of all times, could hardly take care of himself, let alone a child. She smiled at the little boy in her arms. He smiled back and called her 'mommy' she couldn't let him call her mummy, she was not his mother, she couldn't have been, anyway, at her age; Lily was his mother. But...the words...in the mouth of the little child nearly made her cry, oh how she had longed to hear someone call her that, all her life...

She placed the child on the sofa and went to the kitchen to make something to eat. With a flick of her wand the food prepared itself. She took the bowl and went back to the living room. She sat down, with Harry on her lap, and started feeding him. Harry, rather hungry, was really helpful. After he finished, he cuddled in her lap.

'Mum said dad went to heaven, with angels...then mum went to heaven too?' asked Harry.

'Yes, Harry.' responded McGonagall, her eyes watery. Lily and James potter had been her students, great people, and she rather felt for them, she had never expected they'd die before her, leaving a 1year old son to have to understand something as sad and complex as death. But in these times... Oh, it was so unfair!

'Will you be my mummy?' asked the little boy looking up at her hopefully.
She sighed, wiped her tears and whispered 'Yes Harry, I will.' She bent down and kissed him on the forehead. He smiled and hugged her, he was not afraid anymore. He was safe in her arms; she was going to be his mummy.
Later after Harry had fallen asleep, she carried him upstairs, to one of the bedrooms, transfigured some things, and in a minute, she had a perfect bedroom for him. She placed him in the crib and then went back downstairs. She threw herself on the sofa and reached for a bottle of scotch. She was halfway through her first gulp, when she heard a loud pop, and Albus Dumbledore appeared in front of her.

'Good evening, Professor.' he said.
'Albus, It's 3 o'clock in the morning, what are you doing here?!'
'I may ask the same thing' he said nodding at the bottle in her hand. she blushed a little.
'Just having a little drink before going to bed.'
'Oh!' he said, his eyes twinkling.

'What are you doing in my house at 3 o'clock in the morning, Albus?'
'I just...came to see if you're ok.'

'... Lonely, Albus?'
'Yes well... don't look at me like that, as if you're not lonely!'
'I am not lonely!' she protested. 'I have books, strategy plans, papers, work..'
'And scotch' he continued amused.
'And now I have Harry.'
Oh, yes, but as books and papers don't interest me as much as they do with you, I don't see a sport in drinking until I get knocked out cold, and I don’t go off adopting children at my age, I sometimes feel a little lonely. '

She blushed furiously.

'Do you want some tea, then?'
'Erm...I prefer hot chocolate.'

Minerva flicked her wand and two cups of steaming liquid appeared. she gestured to him to sit down.

'How is Harry coming up?' asked Dumbledore
She remembered the boy's words. Mum and dad went to heaven with angels... Will you be my mommy...and how he had looked at her, a poor baby, alone in the world...

'He's fine. We're getting along really well' she answered.
'I'm happy to know that.' He looked at her with concern... no, she couldn't tell him, he was her best friend in the world, but she couldn't tell him the boy asked her to be his mother...no.

'...How's your work with Nicolas going?' she asked instead.
'Oh, good, but... slow.'
'But of corse, he has his time... at his age...'
Dumbledore smiled.

'What do you think about the idea of eternal life?' he asked looking at his Deputy.
'I never wished eternal life.' she said shortly. He was surprised, for there were very few people who had never dreamed to conquer death.

'What is the point in living for ever?' she said looking in his eyes. 'To see your friends dying before you, to know that whatever happens tomorrow would be the same as today. Life is more beautiful when you know that, no matter what, it will never be the same as it is today.'