A/N: The first chapter since the great lady's passing, and a chapter centred around her character is fitting. RIP Dame Maggie Smith, and thank you for the memories.

Minerva was overjoyed at Y/N's acceptance of her offer. More though she was overjoyed at his happiness. She stood and smiled at the first year as he followed her lead and pulled his rolling suitcase behind him, the two of them leaving the station.

Y/N walked with Minerva, his mood lifting dramatically as he looked around the magical village. It was a truly beautiful sight, the village being snow covered and decorated with Christmas decorations. Minerva looked down at the first year and wanted to cry, seeing the wonder in his eyes at the all magical village. It took about ten minutes to reach her comfy little cottage, and she turned to Y/N with a smile.

"Here we are, your home away from home for the next fortnight."

She opened the door to the cosy looking cottage, and Y/N couldn't help but smile again as his eyes widened in wonder and took in the home in front of him. It was a double storied house, like most abodes in the all magical village, but Y/N was drawn to a large perch stand that stood in the far corner of the living room.

"Swoop" he said happily as the Roc flew over and landed on his shoulder, nestling and rubbing against Y/N's head and neck.

"Were you in on this, Swoop?" Y/N asked with a chuckle. Minerva smiled at the sight, Y/N's genuine and heartfelt affection for the bird, a feeling the Roc returned in spades. She smiled as she spoke:

"I did discuss the matter with Swoop, and he did seem fond of the idea. He has formed a solid friendship, I think, with my owl, Eilwen."

Y/N looked across at the large Eurasian Eagle Owl. She sat proudly on her perch, spreading her wings momentarily, which easily stretched to six feet. She was much bigger than Hedwig, Harry's owl, and where Hedwig was a beautiful white colour, Eilwen had a mosaic of black and white down her chest, the rest of her body covered in speckled brown feathers.

In truth she was similar in colour to Swoop, whereas his mosaic was a dark hood that covered his head and thinned out to a point down his back, the rest of his feathers being a tawny brown colour in appearance.

Y/N smiled, patting his beloved companion who trilled in his ear before flying back to the perch he was sharing with Eilwen.

"Please come in, make yourself at home" Minerva smiled as she closed the front door, shutting out the cold and Y/N stepped further into the cottage's lounge room. Y/N looked around at the cosy setting, enraptured by what he saw.

The main feature of the living room was the large inlaid stone fireplace, which currently housed a roaring fire. To the left was an L shaped bookshelf housing many thick and aged tomes, and which stood snugly against the corner of the room. Following to its left was an arched open doorway, leading to what looked like a small kitchen and dining area.

Directly across from the fireplace, apart from a comfy armchair and a two person couch that sat in the lounge proper, was a spiral staircase that led upstairs. Finally, on the right side of the fireplace was an etagere, housing various magical ornaments and moving photos of, presumably, Professor McGonagall and her late husband. To the right of this was a six foot Christmas tree, happily standing in the corner and decked to the nines with ornaments. To its right was the large front window of the cottage, decorated in mistletoe and Christmas flashing lights.

Y/N's eyes widened, Minerva delighted to see something akin to childlike glee as he smiled in wonderment at the moving ornaments on the tree, and the miniature Hogwarts Express that was circling it's base.

"It's not much, but it's home" Minerva said with a smile as she removed her coat and her gloves, hanging them on the coatstand near the front door.

"Its brilliant" Y/N replied, still looking around in awe. He'd never experienced a family home, not being in one, not like this. The Leaky Cauldron never felt like home, it was just a place to hang his hat, keep his belongings and sleep. To be truthful it was akin to a prison after Rita Skeeter had outed his identity.

The hospital before that was barren and sterile, and as for Azkaban...

"Are you ok, Mr Deimos?" Minerva asked, noticing him shiver involuntarily as the thought of Azkaban flashed in his mind's eye.

"I am, I've just never seen a place like this, a home. Thank you for inviting me to stay, Professor. But please call me Y/N, not Mr Deimos" Y/N chuckled.

Minerva smiled, and replied:

"As I said, it's your home for the next fortnight. If you would like to follow me upstairs I'll show you your room, and likewise, when it is just the two of us, please call me Minnie. All my closest friends do."

To her delight Y/N couldn't help but hide his smile, as he nodded, saying quietly:

"Thank you, Minnie."

He followed the Professor up a squeaky staircase to a single hallway with three rooms off it.

"I am on the left, you're on the right and the facilities are at the end. Please feel free to make the room your own" Minerva smiled, as she opened Y/N's bedroom door.

He entered the room to see a double bed, an empty bookcase, a desk and a set of drawers. All the pieces matched and looked to be made from mahogany. Y/N lifted his suitcase up to the bed, and as he opened it and began to move his folded clothes to the chest of drawers. Minerva smiled and said:

"I'd like to introduce you to someone, a very close friend of mine, and someone who can help you with that. Dreek"

At the mention of the name a small house elf, in a smart miniature shirt and trousers with shiny shoes appeared in the room.

"Hello Minnie" the small elf smiled happily, bowing to his mistress and smiling.

"Hello Dreek, it is good to see you" Minerva smiled. She held her hand out towards where Y/N stood.

"Dreek, this is Y/N Deimos, a very dear student of mine. He will be staying with us over the festive holidays."

Minnie smiled, and Dreek was overwhelmingly happy when Y/N didn't hesitate to hold his hand out to shake the small house elf's one.

Dreek smiled happily, shaking Y/N's hand, as Minerva spoke again:

"Dreek was born to two of the Hogwarts House Elves. His father, Deek, was a close friend to my mentor, predecessor as Deputy Head and Transfiguration Professor, and dear, dear, friend Matilda Weasley. He and Dreek's mother, Zoory, passed away when Dreek was still in his adolescence. Thanks to the Headmaster I was able to purchase Dreek from Hogwarts and grant him his freedom. He has been with me ever since."

Minerva finished and she and the House Elf smiled at each other.

Y/N nodded and Minerva added:

"Dreek could you please help Y/N put his clothes away?"

The elf nodded and snapped his fingers. All the clothes flew up, out of the bag and were perfectly sorted into drawers, his suitcase shrinking and flying up to one of the shelves.

"Wow. Thanks" Y/N smiled.

Y/N and Minerva sat downstairs for an hour, having a cup of tea and Y/N just acclimatising to his new surroundings. After an hour was up, Minnie smiled and asked:

"Would you like to go to the Three Broomsticks? I've organised to meet a few friends for lunch."

"Oh, um, ok" Y/N nodded nervously, memories of his pre-Hogwarts abuse he suffered in Diagon Alley flooding back.

Minerva could see the trauma almost, as it flashed across Y/N's eyes. She reached out and gripped his hands gently, relieved when he didn't pull away.

"I was made aware during the last term, of your living conditions, of what happened to you in Diagon Alley. I promise you you'll be safe here in Hogsmeade. You won't need to worry, or be recognised, and if you are you'll be safe."

Y/N considered her words and nodded smiling and standing to get his coat.

It was a brisk ten minute walk to the local pub, several out and about locals greeting the pair and not giving Y/N a second look, much to his relief. They entered the pub, Y/N politely holding the door for Minerva, and were greeted at the bar by the owner of the establishment, Rosmerta. She was an attractive woman in early middle age, and smiled widely at the pair.

"Minnie, how good to see you" Rosmerta smiled, leaning across the bar to hug the witch. She smiled down at Y/N and said happily:

"So you must be young Y/N Deimos."

Y/N froze, not knowing how to respond. Fortunately the friendly barwitch continued:

"Heard a lot about you the last few months, all of it good mind you. Taking on older Slytherins, defending muggleborn students, defeating trolls, a Gryffindor through and through I believe you said, Minnie. Delighted you took up Minnie's offer, Y/N."

She continued to wipe her bar as she talked, Y/N struggling to keep up with her mile a minute speech pattern.

"Usual and a butterbeer for the young master?" Rosmerta asked, Minnie nodding. Y/N's hand went to his pocket to pull out his coin pouch, before Minnie stopped him, saying firmly "Don't you dare, Y/N. This is my treat."

The two walked across to the table that was reserved for their party, and Y/N was greatly relieved at the four people waiting there, mostly. Hagrid waved happily from where he sat next to the Headmaster, tapping the empty seat next to him for Y/N to sit at. Across from them sat Madam Pomfrey and a lady Y/N didn't recognise.

She was elderly, positively ancient to look at, not that it was uncommon in the wizarding world for someone to reach the age of ancient. She was small, and had sharp features, but a kind smile.

Minerva sat in the spare seat next to Poppy, absolutely beaming with happiness, and Y/N sat on the other side of her, next to Hagrid.

"Alrigh' there, Y/N. 'ow's your school 'olidays started out?" Hagrid asked happily.

"Hey Hagrid. Good. Really good. A lot better than I thought it would be" Y/N replied with a smile.

"Really? What were you expecting?" the Headmaster asked with a mischievous grin from the other side of the half-giant. Y/N answered honestly, immediately, without thinking:

"I thought I was being forced to stay with that sleazy prick of an uncle of mine. Blonde haired git."

The table was quiet for a moment before the unknown lady laughed loudly and looked at the others with a smirk, saying:

"What? We all know it's true."

The others laughed as well, Minerva introducing the pair:

"Y/N, this is Bathida Bagshot. Bathilda, this is Y/N Deimos."

The lunch went extremely well, with Bathilda asking if she could visit the following week, and Y/N rushing out to Tomes and Scrolls, bringing two books back to the pub.

--~--

Hermione had been worried all day, along with Pansy and Neville, about Y/N. She was shocked when her dad, Wendell, yelled out at 7:00pm there was a strange bird attacking the kitchen window.

Hermione ran into the kitchen and opened the back door, gasping happily as the 'strange bird' flew into the kitchen and landed on the kitchen table.

"Swoop" Hermione exclaimed happily, noticing three wrapped parcels with letters attached to the leg of the Roc.

"Did you fly all the way here to bring these to Pansy, Neville and I?" she asked, smiling when he squawked happily in response.

"Dad, could you please get a steak from the fridge? Swoop here has flown all the way from the Highlands."

Wendell did so, Hermione feeding the bird who gently took the meat and after a loving pat from the girl, squawked and flew out the open the door. Hermione quickly opened the letter as her mother entered the kitchen, smiling as her daughter's face lit up as she read.

Hermione,

Just wanted to send you a quick letter to let you know the note I received wasn't from Lucius. It was from Professor McGonagall. I'm not meant to tell anyone except you, Pansy and Nev, but just wanted you to know I am OK. The enclosed package is your Christmas present, please don't open it until Christmas morning, I hope you have a great break with your family.

All the best, Y/N.

--~--

Y/N and Minerva had enjoyed a lovely Christmas eve with Dreek, and Y/N woke early Christmas morning, as he did most mornings. He exited his room and yawned, heading down for a drink of water when he stopped, looking at the large mound of presents sat under the Christmas tree. Minerva was sat with Dreek, enjoying a cup of tea when she looked up and smiled at the shocked look on Y/N's face.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N. You seem to have a lot of presents."

Y/N was blown away by his Christmas, the first Christmas he had ever celebrated properly. He'd received a lot of books, a lot of Gryffindor themed clothes from Minerva. He had even received rock cakes from Hagrid, which Minerva had told him not to eat, but to tell Hagrid he had enjoyed them immensely.

He'd felt guilty when he only had a scarf for Minerva, and a hat for Dreek, both of which he had purchased the previous day, not knowing what to buy. Dreek had adored his hat, and Minerva her scarf, wearing it as they left to have their lunch at the Three Broomsticks, the trio invited to the private engagement Rosmerta had at the pub that day.

The rest of the holidays went quickly, Y/N thoroughly enjoying the time with his Professor, they spent their days exploring Hogsmeade together, looking at the various shops and attractions the village held. Other days were spent reading as Minerva worked, she had a vast library in a room on the other side of the kitchen, and Y/N would happily sit by the fire and devour text after text he hadn't previously read.

On the final day before the Express returned to Hogsmeade. Bathilda came to visit, stopping by at lunch time. She sat and had a meal with Y/N and Minerva, the trio enjoying the small talk before she raised the reason for her visit after lunch had finished. Y/N had thanked Bathilda again for the personalised greetings she had written into the copies of Hogwarts, A history, he had bought for Hermione and Pansy, the book being their favourite. Bathilda had smiled and replied she was happy to, before her next question caught Y/N off guard.

"Y/N, forgive me if this seems out of place, but what do you know of your father, of his family line?"

Y/N was shocked at the question, and after having composed himself, answered with obvious distain in his voice:

"He was a Death Eater, and a psychotic war criminal. I don't know more than that and I frankly don't want to."

Bathilda nodded in understanding, offering the boy an empathetic nod.

"I understand, but I feel I must press forward with my questioning. Have you ever felt angry, but more than just an anger, a rage that builds itself up to hatred, an urge to hurt the target of your anger?"

Y/N looked at the aged author puzzled, replying with the same tone:

"I have... frequently... I've often felt like I needed to pull myself back from the brink."

Minerva had a worried expression on her face. Bathilda nodded.

"You seem like a charming young man, so I felt it was only right to warn you. This book is from my private library. It isn't well known and dates to the middle of the last century. You can keep it, but promise me you will read it."

Y/N nodded to the elderly witch as he was given the book and looked down, reading the title:

Cursed Pure Blood Families of Europe and the British Isles.