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[Scotland] Home

Kay, Active Player

#20433
Location: Minerva's Cottage • Date: November 1st, 1981
Time of Day: Early Morning • Weather: Overcast


Though it remained hidden behind thick grey clouds, the sun had been up for a few hours. The cold humid air clung around them pressing against her heavy chest. The loss they had suffered last night clawed at her in waves, some of them managing to spill over already swollen eyelids while some of them remained imprisoned in her chest, damaging every hopes and dream she carried for the young souls that passed through her classroom. Lily and James had been more than students to her, they had been her pride and joy, a purpose, a motivator for her draining yet rewarding vocation. They were gone now, leaving a hole in her soul, she could not imagine ever filling.

Except they had left legacies behind, one of inspiration and pride due to their immense courage, but also one in the flesh who was currently sleeping soundly in Minerva's arms. Albus had requested that she bring the child to his aunt's and uncle. An order she had considered reluctantly until she had seen the pair and had completely refused to leave the child with them. The sight of them had made her skin crawl, blood relation or not, Harry deserved to be in a home where he would be cherished and loved, not with the insensitive and rude muggles.

Entering the cottage barely made her feel better. While being in her space made her feel a tad safer, especially considering the multiple protective charms and spells Albus had added to her small home, there was a part of her that was nervous about the responsibility she was taking on. Minerva was a great witch, she would certainly keep Harry safe, but she had never been the most nurturing. It was only, temporary she reminded herself as she refused to consider what might have happened to Sirius when he had finally confronted Peter.

Unable to let the child leave her arms she tried to remain as still and as precise as possible as she used her wand to transfigure a few objects into the things she would need to take care of Harry. She was transfiguring her favorite chair into a cot when Harry blinked up at her.
Last edited by Kay on 18 Nov 2018, 09:37, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: [Scotland] Home

Lilly, Active Player

#20446
Harry stared up at the biscuit lady with wide emerald eyes, still dressed in his snitch patterned footie pajamas his father had put him in. “…Momma…” the one year old mumbled in confusion as he started to squirm restlessly in McGonagall’s tired arms. “Mumma!"

"Momma! Mmmmmmm” he babbled, his face screwing up as if he were about to start crying again after having been rather quiet despite recent events.

This lady was nice - she smelled of ginger biscuits and Harry loved ginger biscuits- but he wanted his mother.

Little Harry continued to wiggle and squirm in McGonagall’s arms, his whines of protest becoming louder with each second that passed with him not being in his parent’s arms. His bottom lip trembled. Not even his fluffy orange kitty was to be found. Daddy hated fluffy orange kitty. It was fun to watch Daddy get frustrated when fluffy orange kitty knocked stuff off the kitchen counter during breakfast.

The memory made him randomly giggle.

And then it made him sad…really…really…sad, though he didn’t fully understand why.

Harry suddenly stilled in McGonagall’s arms. She had funny looking things on her face too, like his dad, but hers were shinier. Little hands reached up to grab at the frames resting on McGonagall’s face.
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Re: [Scotland] Home

Kay, Active Player

#20547
If grief came in waves, hearing the young boy ask for his mother generated an influx that had the strength of a tidal wave. Feeling helpless in a way she had never experienced before she sat heavily in one of her patted chairs. Focused on the squirming toddler, Minerva barely registered her body's relief when she finally leaned against something other than her own strained muscles. At a loss for words, she merely hushed gently as she watched him fight the blanket that had been wrapped around him tightly.

He was fighting the blanket, fighting her hold on him. He was awake, she knew she should let go of him, allow him to stretch a little perhaps even walk, but she couldn't let go of him. Every time she considered lowering him, setting him down on her knees as a faint sense of panic tugged at her chest.

When she noticed the hand reaching for her glasses, it was already wrapped around one of her lenses. "Harry," she finally spoke his name, every syllable patted with his painful circumstances, making her verbal warning rather weak. She took his little hand and unclasped it from her glasses, pushed them back up her nose and used a simple cleaning charm to wipe the finger marks off of them.

"Are you hungry?" She asked him, as she dodged another one of his attempts to take her glasses.