Mid-August, the Year 1989

Minerva McGonagall shifted back into her human form upon approaching the rather ratty looking muggle building she visited each year. Never had she actually entered the place, the woman merely kept a watchful eye for the child she had placed on its doorstep all those years ago.

"Wool's Orphanage," a mousy woman greeted her at the door, "I'm Evangeline Turner," she smiled kindly, "How may I help you?"

Minerva managed a small smile in return, "Mrs. McGonagall," she informed the employee, "I made an appointment."

"Oh, yes!" she recalled, "I received your letter just yesterday," Evangeline welcomed her inside. "I must admit this is rather odd, however."

"How so, Ms. Turner?" the professor inquired, politely refraining from covering her nose. The stench that overcame the place was overwhelming.

"Well," she brushed some invisible lint off from her apron, "It's just that lovelle hasn't had any visitors before," Evangeline let her know sadly. "Poor thing isn't very sociable," she went on, leading McGonagall up the stairs and towards the eleven year-old child's tiny bedroom, "She's only ever had one friend here at Wool's and that was nearly two years ago."

"What happened?" the animagus couldn't help prying.

"Little Maggie was adopted," she stated, bluntly. "And before you ask," Evangeline continued, "Miss black has been adopted once before."

"Miss black?" Minerva pressed, unsure as to whom the brunette was referring to.

"Lovelle," she answered, "I had no choice but to name her myself after nearly a year passed by without any takers."

"What is the child's full name?" McGonagall asked, for all she had originally known was the first.

"Lovelle rose black," Evangeline smiled proudly, despite the fact that it was a quite simple name, "She's a sweet child, truly," she explained. "But the Erikson's returned her for unknown reasons after just three months."

"How old was she, Ms. Turner?" she asked sadly. The 'unknown reasons' were undoubtedly magic related. Still, by the sounds of it, Lily's firstborn hadn't much luck with her life so far.

"Seven," the shorter woman replied, finally having reached the designated room. "Well, I'll leave you to it," Evangeline smiled at the professor once more before going back to work.

Minerva thanked her kindly, then reached for the rusty doorknob, turned it, and entered lovelle's quarters.

"Hi," the little girl greeted shyly. She had been expecting somebody to barge in at any moment. Miss Evangeline had told her just this morning that a woman would be stopping by for a visit. She never said why, though.

"Hello, dear," McGonagall carefully sat on the edge of lovelle's cot. Currently, the child was curled up in the very corner of it with her arms wrapped firmly around her legs.

While the professor had caught a few glimpses of her sitting alone outside amongst the playground, this was the first time since the girl's birth that Minerva was able to get a good look at her. Besides growing in height and hair length, she hadn't changed much. Yes, her complexion was a bit too pale despite her genetics, and no, her eyes weren't quite as bright as they once were, but all of that would be changing soon; which was the only thing keeping McGonagall from commenting on it.

"How are you?" she asked softly, not wanting to frighten the small girl.

"M'okay," lovelle responded almost inaudibly. She then bravely asked for the woman's name.

"Oh, how rude of me," she chuckled lightly, "I'm Professor McGonagall," she then held out a hand after introducing herself.

Lovelle  stared at the hand before reluctantly shaking it. She didn't trust easily. "Excuse me," she started once the lady had let go, "But do I know you?"

Minerva smiled sadly. She had discussed her planned visit with Albus beforehand. Both she and the headmaster had decided there was no harm in telling the child of her parentage. With Voldemort momentarily out of the way, danger was not an issue. Besides, the girl would need a guide upon entering this new world of magic and such. Although, whether or not her father would be that person was unknown. Lovelle would only be the fourth person to hear of her true identity. The day after she and Albus left little Harry upon the Dursley's doorstep, Minerva broke and told both him and Hagrid of Lily's secret. The shock dissipated over time, yet the headmaster still agreed that the girl was best off at the orphanage for the time being. Severus was in no shape to look after a child so soon after Lily's death and Dumbledore assumed lovelle had been picked up by another family, nevertheless. So, it had been decided. Yes, the three adults felt terrible for keeping such a large secret from the young man…but they knew it was for the best.

"Professor?" Lovelle piped up, concerned as Minerva stared off, reminiscing, rather than answering her question.

"Sorry, dear," McGonagall apologized while lovelle noted that this was the second time she had been addressed as 'dear'.

"Yes, to answer your question Miss black, we have indeed met." Minerva watched the child's jaw drop at that and suppressed a laugh.

"How?" she asked, "I don't remember ever seeing you before," lovelle pointed out.

"I wouldn't have expected you to," the professor admitted, "You were but a few days old at the time," she looked into the large obsidian-specked eyes before her, so filled with hope.

"Are we related?"

Gryffindor's head of house considered it. Sure, she had always thought of Lily as a surrogate daughter of sorts, but what did that make this child…a pseudo-granddaughter?

Minerva looked at Miss black  thoughtfully, recalling the first time she'd held her. Instantly, the animagus had felt passionately for Lily's firstborn. And now, seeing the hope shining in lovelle's previously dull eyes, McGonagall couldn't find it in her heart to say no.

"In a way," she decided, causing the eleven year-old to smile. It was the first Minerva had ever seen upon this child's face. "I was very close to your mother," she explained. "Lily was like a daughter to me."

"You knew my mum?" Lovelle  made sure, "Lily?"

Minerva nodded, "Yes, I did."

"Is she-" she hesitated before mustering up the courage to ask, "Is she here?"

The grim look that crossed the professor's face was answer enough. Lovelle's heart sank. "She didn't want me, did she?" the girl asked pathetically, placing her head upon her knees.

"I can assure you that is not the truth, Miss black," McGonagall quickly corrected her. "Your mother loved you very much."

"Then why isn't she here?" Lovelle asked, feeling slightly frustrated, "All the other kid's say that we're given to Wool's because nobody wants us," she informed the woman still sitting on the edge of her cot, "That includes my parents."

"Oh, child," Minerva looked at her pitifully, "Your mother would've done anything to keep you with her," she informed the saddened girl, "But the circumstances wouldn't allow for it.

Lovelle's head shot up, "What circumstances?" she inquired, curiously.

"Well, let me start from the beginning," the professor suggested, "and we'll get there soon enough," she placed a reassuring hand on the child's knee, "How does that sound?"

Lovelle only nodded, wondering what else this woman could possibly have to say to her.

"Alright," she sighed, readjusting herself on the uncomfortable padding. "Do you believe in magic, dear?" she asked, surprising lovelle by being so random.

"Sure?" she said uncertainly, searching for the right answer. At McGonagall's raised eyebrow, however, she decided to come out with the truth, "No."

"Hmm," Minerva looked about the room, "What if I could convince you otherwise, Miss black?"

"Pardon?" she asked. Surely the professor wasn't serious. Although, she didn't look like the joking type, so the raven haired girl couldn't be certain.

Instead of replying, Minerva pulled out what lovelle thought was just a stick of wood, then flicked it at the trainers beside her cot and turned them into teacups.

"Hey!" she shrieked, ignoring the amazing display. "Those were my good shoes!" Lovelle panicked, picking up the small cups and staring at them depressingly.

McGonagall frowned at the lack of interest and transformed the pottery back into its original state, vying to better catch the child's attention.

"Whoa," she said, watching as the teacups within her hands turned back into the black shoes they had once been. "Was that magic?"

"Indeed," Minerva informed her. "A matter you shall learn more about at Hogwarts."

"Hog's warts?" her face scrunched up in both confusion and disgust. "What's that?"

"Hogwarts," the professor properly pronounced it, "is a school that young wizards and witches, such as yourself, attend from the age of eleven up until their seventh year in schooling."

"Such as myself?" the girl appeared lost, "I'm no witch," she protested as if it were some sort of insult.

"I assure you," Minerva locked eyes with her, "you are." She then proceeded before lovelle could argue again, "Being a witch is far from a horrid notion," she told the child sternly, "In fact, it is a privilege."

"Well it's not like I asked to be one," lovelle huffed.

"Do you not want to be?" McGonagall asked seriously.

"I don't know," she looked torn, "Were my parents witches?"

The professor stifled a laugh at the mental image of Severus being called a witch then answered the child, "No, your mother was a witch, but your father is a wizard."

Lovelle thought about what she said for a moment before catching on, "Wait," she sat up, "So my mum isn't a witch anymore?"

Minerva shook her head, allowing this girl to ask the inescapable question.

"So, that means…" lovelle's eyes began to fill with tears, "She's dead, isn't she?"

"I'm afraid so," she responded, her Scottish brogue more prominent.

"How?" Lovelle choked out, wiping her face with her sleeve.

Minerva took a deep breath. "There was a terrible wizard who murdered both she and her husband on the Hallows eve of seven years past," she informed the teary eyed girl, feeling awful for having to tell her this. "He tried doing the same to their son, but failed."

Feeling bad that her mother had passed away so near her birthday, lovelle quickly let it go for now upon turning upset, "Why would he do that?" she asked angrily, "What did they ever do to him?"

Sighing, she could only say, "He was a very cruel creature, Miss black."

Curling back into herself, she wondered aloud, "So, my dad's dead too?"

Finally, Minerva had a reason to smile at the child again. "He is very much alive, quite actually. If you would agree to attend Hogwarts," she tried a different tactic for lovelle to accept her heritage, "the two of you could meet."

The girl's eyes gazed longingly for but brief second before going dark within the next, "If he's alive, why didn't he come for me? Why didn't he stay with my mum? And does that mean I have a brother? Where is he?" she asked all at once.

"I will be honest with you Miss black," McGonagall decided, "You're father is not aware of your existence."

Lovelle didn't believe that for a second. 'Probably just some lame excuse,' she told herself.

"I am not a liar, lovelle rose," the professor scolded, catching the girl off guard.

"And no, I am not capable of reading your mind," Minerva continued amusedly, "Like your mother; your expressions are enough to tell what you are thinking."

Lovelle blushed at that, but still pried, "How come he doesn't know?"

"Unfortunately, your mother kept it a secret."

"But why?"

"Well, your parents were very young and Lily knew that they wouldn't be able to support you as a normal couple," the professor stated, "So, she opted to let another family care for you in the hope that you would have a more stable life."

Lovelle scoffed, but refrained from commenting. "My dad works at this Hogwarts place, then?"

Minerva nodded, "Yes, you're father teaches as a potions professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Potions?" finally the girl seemed interested in the prospect of magic.

"Just as I teach Transfiguration, your father teaches Potions," McGonagall explained.

Lovelle looked deep in thought, "Was what you did to my shoes called Transfiguration?"

"It was."

"When do I get to see potions?" the now excited eleven year-old asked.

"Starting September first, you will attend Hogwarts and learn all about Potions and Transfiguration," Minerva then smiled knowingly and went on, "You will also learn Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Herbology, Flying, and much more."

Lovelle just stared at her in awe. "And you're sure I have magic like you?" she inquired, doubtfully, thinking this was all too good to be true.

"Have you ever made anything happen, dear?" McGonagall asked her, "Anything you could not explain?"

The girl with long, straight, black hair looked away as the memories engulfed her.

Flashback

"But I wanna go outside and play!" an eight year old lovelle complained.

Evangeline sighed, "Sweetheart, it's raining," she pointed out, directing her finger towards the window to their left. Beyond it, the skies were grey, leaving the small playground muddy and wet. "You'll catch a cold in this weather," the woman warned.

"No I won't," the girl argued, determined to get some fresh air.

"Why don't we go play in my room, Hay?" Maggie suggested, using her best friend's nickname kindly. She was the only one who could ever talk sense into the feisty raven-haired child whom was currently wearing the locks in a side-braid.

"Dolls are boring Mags," lovelle informed the blonde. "I'm not into that stupid girly stuff like you are."

"My dolls are not stupid!" Maggie huffed. At the age of three, her parents passed away in a terrible skiing accident and all she was left with were those two baby dolls to remember them by. Unfortunately, Caitlyn and Thomas (her mother and father) hadn't managed to compose a decent will before their untimely deaths. Then, as if things couldn't possibly get any worse for Maggie, she also had no other living relatives, leaving the officials no other choice but to drop her off at Wool's. The only upside to the whole mess was that she got to keep Elaina and Sara (her dolls) along with meeting lovelle, her sister for all intents and purposes. They had known one another for a little over five years now, afterall.

"I didn't say they were!" her friend stated truthfully. "Just pretending they can talk and walk is dumb! I mean, come on," lovelle crossed her arms, "They aren't real people."

"You don't know that!" Maggie protested. "How do you know what they do when you leave the room?" she asked defensively, "For all you know, Elaina and Sara could just be shy. That's why they don't talk with other people around."

"Oh, yeah that's why," lovelle drawled on sarcastically, "silly me."

"Miss black," Evangeline chided, "Be nice."

She rolled her eyes, "Can't I go outside?" Lovelle persisted in pleading, "Please?"

Maggie shook her head. Her friend was impossible.

"Maybe when it stops pouring," Ms. Turner considered.

"That could be days from now!" Lovelle whined, for it was always raining in England.

"Well," she began, her voice stern and authoritative, "I suppose you shall just have to be patient." Then, when the girl went to argue once more, Evangeline added, "Unless you wish to spend the afternoon scrubbing dishes, I suggest you take Miss Porter up on her offer and go play upstairs."

Lovelle pouted, having reached a dead end. 'I wish it would stop raining,' she mentally begged, over and over again, desperately wanting the sun to shine through.

Within moments, the orphanage was invaded with an incredibly bright light. Through all of the windows, extreme sunlight came in, nearly blinding them all.

"What on earth?" Evangeline peered outside after the brightness faded a bit. Much to her surprise, what had once been a stormy day was now sunny and quite warm. There was not a single cloud in the sky, nor was there any trace of water on the ground.

"Yes!" Lovelle cheered, not seeing the oddness in the situation. All she knew was that the rain had subsided, meaning she could finally go outside to play. She then took a very confused Maggie's hand and ran towards the swings.

Two years later, Flashback

"Give it back Edison!" a ten year old lovelle demanded, reaching for the toy that had been taken from her.

"Make me!" the brunette stuck out his tongue whilst his twin sister laughed away. Currently, all of the children were sitting in the mess hall for supper. It had been the first time in nearly two weeks that lovelle had decided to join the other kids in there. After Maggie was adopted, she hardly left her room, too depressed to eat or talk with anybody.

Suddenly Carol's cup exploded, causing the twins to scream in surprise. "What did you do?" Edison accused his sister.

"I didn't do anything!" Carol insisted. "I was just taking a drink when the plastic shattered out of nowhere."

"That's impossible," her brother said, "You must've been squeezing it too hard."

"No," she shook her head. "The cups here are just cheap," Carol looked at the broken container distastefully. Both she and Edison, at the ages of thirteen, had only been in Wool's for several months now. After their older brother, Sam, was murdered in a gang fight, the two had no place else to go.

"They aren't cheap," lovelle defended her home, "You just have meaty hands," she let the girl know.

"Take it back!" Edison rose to his sister's aid.

"Or what?" emerald eyes met hazel, standing up as well.

Just then, Carol took the doll from her brother's hand and wrapped her fingers about its neck.

"No, don't!" Lovelle shrieked, realizing that the other girl was about to tear its head off. Then, before anybody could react to her words, the doll flew from Carol's hands and floated into lovelle's.

"What the-?" Edison went to say, but was too shocked to finish.

"How did you-?" his sister tried going on with absolutely no luck.

"That was awesome!" someone shouted from behind.

It was then that lovelle noticed every kid inside the dining hall was gawking at her. Some looked amazed while others appeared completely terrified.

Not knowing what else to do, the girl held tightly onto Sara, the doll Maggie left behind for her, and ran from the room.

End Flashback

"I'll take that as a yes," Minerva placed a hand upon the child's knee, once more attempting to relax her. "This is called accidental magic," she went on, "it is common amongst young witches and wizards until they go to school and learn to better control it."

Lovelle inwardly sighed, relieved. 'Maybe I'm not nuts afterall,' she thought.

"No, Miss black, you are perfectly normal," the professor grinned and lovelle actually laughed.

After sobering up, she repeated her earlier question, "Do I have a brother?"

"A half-brother, yes," McGonagall informed her, "He lives with his aunt, uncle, and cousin in Surrey."

Feeling slightly jealous that while her brother got a real home, she was stuck in the orphanage, lovelle pushed it away and asked, "What's his name? How old is he?"

"Harry James Potter," she smiled, "And he's just turned nine."

Again, the child giggled, "That kinda sounds like my name except for the Potter part."

Minerva joined her and chuckled, "Well, enough chit chat," she stood, "How would you like to come with me for the rest of the summer?"

Lovelle's eyes widened, "You mean until school starts?"

"Assuming you wish to attend Hogwarts, then yes," the professor pushed.

"Of course I'll go to Hogwarts!" she agreed, watching the lady as if she were mad. 'I finally get to meet my dad!' she thought happily, 'And I'm getting out of here for good!' she inwardly cheered.

"I am glad to hear it," McGonagall smiled at the child's sheer joy. When she had entered the room, lovelle was the complete opposite of her current state.

"What about Harry?" She suddenly asked after her shoes were tied. "When do I get to meet him?"

Minerva thought about that, "I'd say most likely next summer or once he attends Hogwarts two years from now at the latest."

The elderly woman could tell that lovelle wasn't content with her answer, but noticed she was willing to let the matter drop for now.

…

"Bye Evangeline," she hugged the woman who raised her tightly, excited to be leaving the place, but sad that it meant leaving her surrogate-mother behind.

"I'm going to miss you, sweetheart," the woman replied, teary eyed. She was happy that lovelle was finally getting a real home, yet didn't want to give her away. Sure, it was selfish, but could you blame her?

"Don't cry," lovelle frowned, pulling back from the embrace. "I promise to write," she reassured her.

Evangeline laughed at the scenario. Here she was, a fully grown woman, being comforted by an eleven year old child. "I'd like that," she smiled sweetly.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Turner," Minerva spoke up, silently saying that it was time for them to go.

"You as well, Mrs. McGonagall," Evangeline got the point. She then planted a kiss upon lovelle's forehead and briskly walked back inside to avoid crying furthermore.

"Do you have everything?" the professor asked before the two took their leave.

Lovelle checked her small suitcase, making sure that Sara was inside it before nodding her head.

Satisfied, Minerva took the child's hand and led her away from Wool's.

…

"Am I going to get my own stick-thingy too?" she asked once the two had managed to distance themselves about a mile or two from the orphanage.

"A wand, you mean?" the professor corrected.

Lovelle blushed again, "Yeah…that."

"In time," McGonagall reassured her. "For now, we shall meet with the headmaster," she informed her after leading the young witch into an alley-way.

"What about my dad?" Lovelle asked, disappointedly whilst wondering why she had taken them to this stinky lot.

"You shall meet him once we speak with headmaster Dumbledore, alright?" she compromised, patiently.

'Dumbledore?' Lovelle thought, 'What's with the weird names?' she wondered.

"Okay," she finally agreed.

"Good," the professor smiled, "Now, if you would be so kind as to take my arm," she held it out for the small girl.

"Why?" Lovelle asked nervously.

"Do you trust me, Miss black?" she asked kindly, bending to meet green-black eyes with her own.

Thinking it over, so far this lady hadn't given her a reason not to be trusting. Lovelle slowly nodded.

Righting herself, she asked again for the child to take her arm. "Hold on tightly," she advised.

Doing as she said, lovelle tightened her grip before feeling her naval get sucked through a small tube.