A/N: I own a copy of Sorcerers (Philosophers) Stone, but none of the recognizable characters. Please read and review, as this is my first time posting a Minerva/Harry fanfic of any kind. WARNING: Mentions of abuse and character death. Don't like, don't read.
The first thing that Harry felt when he awoke was a cool cloth being gently wiped over his face. He also noticed that his glasses weren't on and he wasn't in the clothes he fell asleep in. He wasn't sure whether to open his eyes or to continue to feign sleep. But then teenage wizard heard a familiar voice and decided for the latter.
"Oh Harry……" the quiet voice of Minerva McGonagall reached his ears as he carefully kept his breathing pattern slow and deep. He realized that she was upset when he felt a tear land on his arm. It was probably the realization of everything that happened. Now that the war was over, people had time to grieve instead of worriedly watching over their shoulders. The usually calm professor sniffled and wiped the boy's arm before wiping away her fresh bout of tears. "I never told anyone this, but I was the first wizard to set foot on your relative's property. Albus had asked me to watch them for a day before letting you live there. I had seen the way they had acted and it disgusted me. Your uncle was overweight, and unfortunately passed that along to your cousin. Poor little boy never stood a chance." Harry heard her sigh softly before she continued.
"Your aunt however, was a different story. Always so skinny, like your grandfather. Problem was she had dealt with poor eating habits her whole life. Your mother told me about it once in her seventh year. She had been my teaching assistant for the last half of the school year. Being brilliant at charms, she chose to work with Professor Flitwick for the first half. She said that Petunia had developed an eating disorder after she left for her first year of Hogwarts. Also mentioned that your aunt had started dating a, and I quote, "nasty, shallow, and slightly large boy named Vernon" in her sixth year. Apparently your uncle had been who Petunia turned to when she came to the realization that she would never be a witch like her sister. Vernon lived two neighborhoods away from her childhood home, and they ran away together when they turned twenty. They got married at twenty six and had Dudley when they were thirty three. I had hope that Dudley grew out of the baby fat by now. He could be such a handsome young man if he only ate healthily." Minerva trailed off, lost in thoughts about the past.
"Your uncle abused her you know. Verbally and even physically sometimes. Lily would write to me about seeing some suspicious scrapes or bruises occasionally when she saw Petunia at the local market. Only twice did your aunt open up to her about it though. Unfortunately, Lily was planning to go with your father and rescue both her and her son right before they were forced into hiding. They never got the chance though, obviously. I wonder how things would have turned out if they had. You would have probably had a much easier childhood, Harry. I apologize for not being able to rescue you. I begged Albus not to leave you to them. I told him how nasty your uncle was and it didn't work. In a last desperate effort I made it sound as if Petunia was just as nasty. But he still didn't give in. I even tried to take you in myself, claiming that I was your godmother. Alas, he still forced me to stick to his plan. Looking back, I wish I had fought harder for you."
Minerva's voice was constricted with emotion by the end of her story. She looked down at the young man who gave of so much and received so little n comparison. She thought of the sacrifices given to ensure his destiny was fulfilled and began to weep. She shed tears for James, who protected his family right to the end. She cried for Lily, whose last moments were filled with fear for the fate of her son. For Sirius, whose name was never cleared even though he died a hero's death. She remembered Remis, always willing to help others and always loyal to his friends. He was the peacemaker and logical thinker. Nymphadora, or Tonks as she preferred to be called. Always ready to fight for what she believed in, always cracking jokes ad making people laugh, always loyal, and always kind. She never gave up on Remis, even when he gave up on himself.
Minerva cried for Teddy, who would never get to know the astounding people who gave him life. For Fred Weasley, whose full potential and talent for school and practical jokes was never fully realized. For Mad-Eye, whose constant vigilance wasn't enough to save him in the end. For Hedwig, who helped her on countless occasions keep track of Harry. She was fond of the snowy owl, who reminded her of her mother's animagus form. She wept for Albus, whose elaborate plans ended up leaving him in checkmate, and for Severus, who died in a similar light as Sirius. Minerva thought about the countless others from the war who also gave up their lives and wept for them as well. She even wept for the boy that she went to school with. A boy who had endless potential, but who's hate and prejudice left him blind to his fate and caused his own downfall. She shed tears for Tom Marvolo Riddle; because all he ever wanted was feel like he belonged somewhere, anywhere. But no matter how hard he tried, he never truly could.
Harry sensed the deep sense of grief that Minerva felt. He reckoned that it had been building up for years, but now the end of the war had caused the carefully constructed door to the elder witch's heart to burst. He felt ashamed that he had never taken the time to appreciate everything that Minerva had done for him over the years, and vowed at that moment to set it right. He opened his eyes to see her standing next to the bed and sobbing into her hands. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Without a word he pulled his teacher's arm until she sat down next to him. She then surprised him by suddenly looking up at him. One look at her tear-filled eyes was all it took for Harry's heart to break once more. He pulled her to his chest and allowed her to let out all of the pain. "It's okay Professor," he told her quietly, "Let it all out." He rested his cheek against the top of her head.
Twenty minutes later she had calmed down considerably and he suggested that she get some sleep. She put up a weak argument but the moment her head hit the pillow she drifted off into a deep slumber. Harry looked at the sleeping form of his teacher with the face of a guilty man. He had never tried to get to know her……just like he never had with Dumbledore…….Quickly shaking his head, he left the room. Thoughts of his former headmaster were for another day.
A/N: Not sure whether to leave this as a one-shot or continue. I'm highly disappointed with the lack of reviews for my other stories, so PLEASE review this one! If I have enough, I may continue it. It all depends solely on the response I get from you.
Thanks for reading,