The birth-place of Valour
The first time he came to her was three months after the battle of Hogwarts. It was August, the summer was nearly over, and school was about to start. The castle was repaired as best as possible, and the students would be free to wander her halls once more. The repairs would continue during the school year, but it was possible to teach for now. She didn’t want to leave the students on their own for a whole year. Many parts of the castle were closed off for the public, and the students, but they would make do. They have to.
Minerva, as the new headmistress, had decided to open the school for the eighth years as well, giving everybody the chance to repeat their missed year and the seventh years a possibility to finish their education. She already knew that Miss Granger would come back to finish her seventh year, though she did wonder about the boys. Both of them, and Miss Granger too, had an open invitation to join the Aurors, without the need for any formal exams. Minerva wasn’t convinced that was a good idea. Oh, she knew why Kingsley did it. All three of them were war heroes and the ministry would need to show a good front after the war. The people wanted to see proof of the change that was supposedly happening. But they were just boys. They had seen too much for their young age and had done more than most others could ever imagine. Especially Potter. In the end it all fell on his shoulders, no matter how much his friends tried to help him. But they hadn’t even seen two decades on this earth.
Minerva looked up when she heard someone knock at her office door. She was headmistress now, so she had to move into the headmaster’s office. It felt wrong, and she had put everything but the books her predecessors left here in storage. She would work on making this office her own. Even if she didn’t know if it could feel like anything other than Albus’ office to her. He had inhabited it for nearly half a century and had left his impression not only in this office but the whole castle.
“Come in.”, she called, wondering who it could be. The term hadn’t started yet and the teachers who stayed over the summer were helping with the repairs of the castle. As should she, but she had to finish the administrative tasks that were needed for the beginning of a new year. Not that it took much of her concentration; she had been responsible for these tasks since she had become Albus’ deputy. Almost as long as she had been teaching at Hogwarts.
When she saw Harry walk in, she was surprised. She had seen him some in the past months, always helping with the repairs, but they hadn’t spoken much. Each of them had enough on their plate, she had to organize Hogwarts and Harry was sought after all over the place. He still wasn’t very comfortable with his fame and the attention he got everywhere he went. The way he went about any public affairs felt more like resignation than acceptance.
“Mr. Potter. What can I do for you? I wasn’t expecting you, to be honest.” Minerva had always been blunt, never interested in playing word games when it didn’t gain her anything, and she was genuinely interested in why Harry came to her. “Please, sit down”, she gestured towards the seat in front of her desk. Harry sat down and fidgeted with his hands, looking down towards his knees. Minerva wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to sit by the fireplace, without the big oak desk in between them.
“Hello Professor. Sorry to disturb you without notice.” He spoke timidly, as if he wasn’t sure if he was welcome here anymore. He had been going in and out here in the last year Albus was Headmaster, so Minerva thought it must be disconcerting for him to see the office without all its usual knickknacks. Merlin knows it still is for her.
“You will address the headmistress with her correct title, boy! Show some respect to your betters!” A portrait of one of the deceased headmasters shouted, causing Harry to flinch. He tried to hide it, straightening his shoulders, but Minerva had known him for seven years and had been teaching children for more years than she cared to remember.
“Oh, do shut up, would you?” Minerva snapped. She regretted it instantly when she saw Harry flinch again, shoulders hunching and sinking further into his chair. “Apologies Potter. Would you be amenable to a walk?” Minerva didn’t want to take a walk, but Harry would have something he would like to speak to her about, and that was better face to face. Apart from that, it was raining quite heavily, and while she grew up in Scotland and was used to the wet, she didn’t particularly like getting soaked for no reason. Harry, apparently eager to get out of the office, agreed instantly.
Minerva led the way out of her office and towards her living quarters. She wasn’t sure Harry knew where they were headed, but he followed silently. They stopped in front of a portrait that hid her door. Minerva wasn’t sure Harry had ever been here. The knight on the portrait eyed her speculatively. It wasn’t often she brought guests to her quarters, especially ones that hadn’t been there before. Minerva smiled, she was glad she had decided to keep her own quarters and hadn’t taken the ones attached to the headmaster’s office. These rooms had been her home for the last twenty years, she didn’t want to leave. It had the added bonus of being closer to the students. If she lived in the headmaster’s quarters she would not notice as much about her students, now that she was teaching less.
“Good day Sir Gregor. This is Harry Potter.” Minerva introduced Harry. Sir Gregor inclined his head. “Password?” He asked, giving no acknowledgement to Harry. “Sòlas os cionn dorchadas.” She repeated primly. If Harry was surprised by the strange language, he didn’t show it. He was very quiet, having not said a word since they left her office. Minerva thought that was better anyway, it wouldn’t do to spread gossip before the school year had even begun.
Reassured that Minerva was herself, Sir Gregor turned to Harry. “Good day, Mr. Potter. I have heard a lot about your many exploits over the last years. It is good to finally put a face to the one causing so much trouble.” He teased gently. Harry grinned wryly. He looked tired, even as his smile became more genuine.
“Well yes, I wouldn’t want Headmistress McGonagall to succumb to boredom.” Harry’s eyes twinkled a bit. Minerva was glad he had regained at least some of his spirit.
When they went inside, Minerva told Harry to sit down in the armchair by the fire and busied herself making tea. She could call a house elf, but it wasn’t like it took much skill or time to make the tea herself. She enjoyed the ritual of it. During the school year the elves weren’t fond of her making her own tea, but now it was still the holidays, and they deserved a break too. It was a truce between them, one that had been standing almost as long as she taught here. She probably would have to renegotiate with the house elves now that she was headmistress. Although that was a headache for another time.
When the tea was finished and Minerva sat down opposite Harry, she fixed his tea and hers, leaning back into her seat. Harry took his teacup with some surprise, clearly he didn’t think she would remember how he took his tea. He was her student, of course she remembered. Minerva looked at Harry, considering.
“Mr. Potter- Harry. My name is Minerva.” It was high time they called each other by their names. They had fought in a war together; it was hardly a leap to use their given names with each other.
“I know, Professor.” Harry spoke carefully, looking at her as if she had grown a second head. Or went barmy. She sighed. This would apparently take a bit of work.
“Don’t be daft, Potter. You haven’t been in school, so don’t start now. That was an invitation to call me by my first name.” Minerva said in a dry tone. “You finished school. You’re not my student anymore. And we fought in a war together. Surely you can find in in you to call me by my first name.”
“Yes, Professor.” Minerva would have let her head fall into her hands in frustration – if she were prone to such melodramatic gestures - when she saw the corners of Harry’s mouth twitch. She shook her head. The cheek of that boy. But it was better to see than his intimidated behaviour from before. “Thank you.” He sounded genuine. Then he outright grinned. “You may call me Mr. Potter then.”
“Cheeky sod!” Minerva laughed. “Ten points from Gryffindor.” Harry laughed too. It was good to see. That he hadn’t lost all levity in the war.
Sobering quickly, he turned his earnest gaze to Minerva. “About that. I was wondering if you could help me. I –” Harry rubbed his hand over his eyes. When he looked at her again, he looked truly exhausted. “Everybody expects me to start at the ministry, to become an Auror. And I know I told you I wanted to do that. But I was fourteen and I didn’t think I would live this long.” Minerva sucked in a sharp breath at that but didn’t interrupt. “I don’t want to fight bad people my whole life. I don’t want to fight anymore at all, even though I know that’s impossible. Just because the war is over doesn’t mean that everything is perfect. But that’s – different. That’s just the things I choose to fight for in life, not a job I have to do every day. But I don’t know what else I want to do either. I have been fighting since I was eleven and I - I’m just so tired. I don’t want to wonder if I’ll come back whole every time I leave for work. And it will be like that for years still. Just because Voldemort is dead doesn’t mean that all his supporters will just stop being bigoted idiots.” Harry looked up at her, his eyes so very tired and old, but his expression so young and out of his depth. “So I thought you could help me. You do the career advisement in school; you must know a lot about the jobs and all that. I want to help, but I don’t want to be an Auror, I can’t.”
Minerva looked at Harry for a long moment. She wasn’t expecting Harry to come to her for advice. She hadn’t been sure what Harry could have wanted when he came to her, but she wasn’t expecting this. Still, she was a teacher so she would help him as best she could. Even if he wasn’t a student anymore. She had taught him for seven – well, six years, that must count for something. Six years. That gave her an epiphany. Harry had been at Hogwarts for six years; he hadn’t finished his education. Miss Granger would come back, so Harry wouldn’t be alone. She put her teacup back on the table slowly and looked at him consideringly.
“Have you thought about coming back here?” Minerva suggested.
“I- What?” Harry’s face was the picture of bewilderment following her question. Apparently not, Minerva thought drily.
“You could come back to Hogwarts to finish your education. It would give you time – just a year, but still time – to think about what you want to do with your life. And the press would have nothing to write about you. We have wards around the school, you would be safe from them. I imagine the general public would view it as very responsible if you finish your education before starting a job.” It would also mean that he wasn’t so bloody young anymore, when he started a job, Minerva thought, although she didn’t say it. Barely eighteen, just a child, really. Not that nineteen would be so much better. But still, a year in the familiarity of Hogwarts, without any pressure from the public to become an Auror would do him good.
“That’s – I could do that?” Harry asked. He seemed like he truly hadn’t considered coming back.
“Of course you can.” Minerva answered. “Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.” It was his home, she knew. However much she regretted leaving him with his despicable relatives, there wasn’t anything she could do about that now. What she could do was help him in any way possible, and that included giving him a place at Hogwarts.
Despite the tears that shone in his eyes at her easy admission, Harry seemed to ponder that possibility intensely. Minerva could understand. It was a totally new option presented to him. And it was about his life. He should treat this decision with the consideration necessary to the weight it held over his future.
“I don’t know if I want to come back here.” Harry admitted. “I mean sure, I loved it here. It was home. Still is. But coming here today was hard enough. It was home, but now all I can see is all the people that died here. Every place I look, I see ghosts that haunt me in my sleep.”
“I know.” Minerva said. She felt the same. Although Hogwarts had been her home longer than Harry had been alive. “Believe me, I know. It doesn’t stop. It never does. But it gets better. You make new memories, make new connections to the people and the places.” She sighed. It did get easier. That didn’t mean that it was bearable for Harry now.
“Does it really get better?” Harry asked. He looked at her, eyes full of pain and hope.
“It does.” Minerva told him. “That doesn’t mean that it’ll ever be easy. You won’t ever forget the people who died here, just like you won’t ever forget your loved ones who died. But you learn to live with it. Or you learn to live around it. And the ghosts will haunt you wherever you are, it doesn’t matter how far you run. It might be easier, at first, to be away. But they’ll always find you again. Sometimes it’s easier to let them find you where they knew you.” Minerva looked at him. Looked at the young man sitting opposite her, who had lost so much so early in live and continued to lose even more. Who had so much to live for too. His friends, his family, his godson. “Wherever you go, just don’t be alone. No one ever got better by being alone.”
Harry contemplated that.
“Can I think about it?”, he asked, taking a sip of his tea. “I would like to finish school, but I don’t know if I can bear it yet.”
“That’s fine.” Minerva smiled. Maybe she would have another cub return to her. “Just tell me by the end of August so I can tell the house elves whether to prepare a bed for you.”
“Thank you, Minerva.” Harry said.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Harry seemed lost in his head, although whether he was thinking about coming back to Hogwarts or something entirely different, Minerva couldn’t tell.
When he left that evening, after they had talked about happier subjects, Minerva imagined that his shoulders weren’t as tense as they had been when he arrived.
*******
“I don’t think Ron will come back.” Harry was sitting in Minerva’s sitting room once again, drinking tea. He was still wary, and he still looks tired.
“No, I imagine he wouldn’t.” Minerva said and sipped her tea. She knew that Harry came here to tell her if he would come back to Hogwarts next year. She couldn’t guess what his decision would be, so she had to be patient and wait for him to tell her. That the decision of his best friend would weigh in his own decision was only natural. Even if Minerva preferred it didn’t. Harry had done so little just for himself. It should be his decision alone what he wanted to do with his life. In a fair world, it would be. But theirs wasn’t a fair world, as Minerva knew very well. If it was, Harry wouldn’t be in this position at all, and he definitely wouldn’t have lived through so much pain in his young life.
“Hermione will, though.” Harry said. “Not that that’s in any way surprising. She always liked to learn. The only reason I don’t ask myself why she isn’t in Ravenclaw is because I have seen her bravery time and time again.” His smile turned wistful, and Minerva could almost see him think of all the times Hermione had stood by his side in yet another adventure. Although she wasn’t sure if adventure was the right word for the cruel twists and turns they had taken with the years.
“Ravenclaw and Gryffindor lie closer together than many would think.” Minerva commented, thinking back to her own sorting, and her conversation with Filius some years after she had started teaching. Both of them had been on the line between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. In the end, the hat had sorted her into Gryffindor and Filius into Ravenclaw, although it could easily have been the other way around.
“I suppose.” Harry replied. “I was never book smart. And Ron and I didn’t really invest much time into the theoretical part of class.” He paused. “Although maybe that was just because we had so many other things to worry about.”
Minerva waited. He didn't really need her input for his decision. He just needed the options to be able to make a decision. By himself and for himself, likely for the first time in his life.
“I would like to come back. Even if it would be hard sometimes. I liked school.” Harry looked up at her and grinned wryly. “All the times where we didn’t have to solve mysteries or fight for our lives, anyway. And I know I wasn’t always a very good student, most of the time really. But I’d like to try, at least.”
“Then I’ll be happy to have you back at Hogwarts.” Minerva answered with a smile. And she would. As long as Harry was at Hogwarts, she could protect him and help him as much as he would let her. She didn’t like to pick favourite students, but sometimes it felt as if she didn’t have a choice.
“Great! Thank you, Minerva.” Harry’s smile was genuine, and it warmed her heart that he could smile again after everything that happened. As if her thoughts had reached him, his smile fell.
“I know we have Hogsmeade weekends, and we’ll have the whole weekend to ourselves – excepting schoolwork of course – but…” Harry sighed. “I don’t want to ask for special treatment, really, but I would like to see Teddy more often than once a month. Do you think I could maybe visit Andromeda and Teddy on some of the other weekends? Only, I said I would be there for him, and I promised Andromeda I would help her and…” Harry looked so desperate and sad that Minerva had to interrupt him.
“Of course, you can, Harry.” Minerva stated. It was clear to her that Harry cared very much for his godson and that he would make sure that Teddy knew he was loved. Andromeda would raise him, but Harry would always be there, too. “I am headmistress, so I can allow it without much difficulty. You only have to make sure your schoolwork doesn’t suffer. If it does, I’d have to defend my decision to allow you off school grounds to the board of governors, and I would like to avoid that.”
“I’ll do my best, I promise!” Harry was quick to assure.
“I know you will.” Minerva answered with a smile. “Speaking of your godson, how is little Teddy?”
The next hour was spent with Harry regaling her with tales of Teddys latest accomplishments, which weren’t very exciting, overall, seeing as he was just a few months old. Seeing Harry’s proud smile and shining eyes, Teddy might as well have been the most powerful sorcerer there is.
It was endearing and Minerva was glad that Harry had found a source of pure happiness in his godson.
And if her thoughts strayed to another proud godfather regaling her with tall tales about his little godson, about eighteen years ago, that was nobody’s business but her own.