Professor Mother Lion

Reactions and Countermeasures

“Minnie, I’ve already said that it’s fine! I know what your students mean to you and the boy is no trouble at all” Elphinstone soothed away the persuasive tirade of his oldest friend and wife. They’d not been married long. Minerva’s consistent rejections and friendship having left them both elderly when they did marry, too old to have a child of their own. While her nieces and nephews were always a welcome sight at their Hogsmede cottage it wasn’t the same as having a little one running around on a permanent basis. Harry slept fitfully in the cot as he had done in Hagrid’s the few nights before Minerva had gotten her courage together to tell him her plan.

“It will put a lot on you though during my lessons or when the other professors are busy, and the healer said you were to take it easy.” She said in stern concern, not wanting to let her worries surface too much in front of the infant. He clearly missed James and Lily as much as they did; the toddler’s new toys shifting into a pair of stuffed deer, a scruffy dog, and a wolf whenever he was put down for a sleep was a dead give-away. It almost broke her heart to notice the stag’s tiny glasses and the doe's emerald eyes as he clutched at them. Elphinstone ran his hands down her arms gently as he pressed his forehead against hers.

“I’ll be fine,” She went to protest but he kissed her impulsively and whisked the words away with a grin. “Hagrid and Rosemerta have already offered to help. Honestly, this boy is going to the most loved child in Britain by the time he has a home away from home in every cottage in the village.” Minerva couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm and stroked Harry’s cheek when they looked down at their new charge. Her youngest student, youngest cub if she was being honest with herself. When they’d bought him new toys because the ones in his home had been destroyed save for Hagrid’s unusually robust blanket it sunk in what she’d just done. Not only had she’d agreed to be a mother, but she’d ticked off one of the world’s most influential wizard in the process and she couldn’t say she regretted it either. Her world had gotten all the more complicated since the war had ended and it wasn’t something she could envision changing making her all the more grateful for Phin’s impossibly caring streak that had attracted her in the first place.

“Did you find anything?” She asked finally.

“Nothing conclusive. As for the other thing I’m waiting to hear back, he’s disappeared for the most part after the sentencing. We’ll find him though Minnie.”

“Merlin, I hope so. It would be good for both of them. Can you make the wolfsbane potion?”

“With Rosie’s help definitely. It’s a good thing you have access to the Potions lab.”

Elsewhere, Sirius Black railed against the aurors who were attempting to through him into his cell as dementor bait once again. He hated them, he hated Wormtail treacherous, back stabbing, leeching fat rat bastard! He ranted internally as he realised he hated himself most of all for letting his self-loathing get the better of him when Moody had collared him. He knew what happened to suspects who confessed upon capture, he knew that no one would believe another word he said once they’d left his mouth, but he couldn’t help it. It was his fault, indirectly at least. He’d suggested the secret keeper change after his chat with Dumbledore about Red’s wards on Harry. He’d let them down, he’d lost Remus. Merlin, how could I have ever thought? And then the semi-permanent ice of Azkaban began to creep in, and he knew where this latest spiral was coming from. The dementors were here. The pack of soul-eating mood hoovers that always sent him back to that crazed loss of Wormtail’s escape and doubts and every fight he’d ever had with Moony over stupid petty things like toothpaste lids and clothing stains in their flat. He tried to shake it off, tried to ignore that he’d been sentenced without a trial and that no one had fought for him. Tried even harder to ignore the whiny part of his mind that was screaming for Remus to storm the prison even though he knew he would be killed on the spot as a werewolf. He was innocent. He killed no muggles, no wizards, and no witches and when he worked out how the hell he was going to get out of here, he was going to get that rat to confess and live happily ever after with his Moony. Trying his best to hold his goals as a mental Patronus, Sirius Black stared out the hole in the wall and waited for the wolves to descend. He was so focused that he failed to notice the pair of cheerless blue eyes watching his pain from the darkest corner of his cell.

Albus smirked ruefully at the plight of the reckless Gryffindor in the smug satisfaction that at least one of his schemes had paid off. The hurricane that was Sirius Black would wait in Azkaban until the time came when his presence would benefit the raising of his pet weapon most effectively all the more so as it would mean that Lupin would also have limited impact on the bigger picture. He had no doubt that Minerva would try to track him down and that the boy’s insecurities would stop him from playing a role in Harry’s life now he didn’t have a supply of Wolfsbane potion to hand. That potion had been a blessing in disguise when it came out the same year as the prophesy; it made the Marauders and the Order for that matter much easier to manage from a distance as they all did their best to help their kind, bookish friend. A small part of him regretted using them in this way, particularly Severus, the young man reminded him so much Ariana, but it was for the greater good. Voldemort wasn’t dead- there was no way that someone that powerful and deluded wouldn’t have guaranteed his immortality in some regard. Then there was the reflection of the Dark Lord in Harry’s scar that set Fawkes off whenever the boy was in his office. It was another thing on his to do list now that he would be in wizarding world. The power behind the mark would have dwindled in the Muggle world but he couldn’t really blame Minerva for interceding either. He’d let the ball slip when his parents had been his students, he’d had to there were all the early warning signs of another Grindelwald on the rise. Albus could protect the students most of the year and that had to be enough because he had enough things besides them giving him sleepless nights without caring about them out of his sights. No they were his students when they were his students and Harry…Harry would only be a boy until the time came when Albus needed him to be a weapon and in order to be that weapon he would need to be galvanised, strengthened and tested. The professor rubbed his eyes as he withdrew his link from Azkaban and downed a Wide-eye potion and stood up much to the protest of his aging joints. The twinkle came back as he saw a young Fawkes, newly regenerated from the flames, snore happily from his perch and he stroked the birds feathers on his way out the door.