Child of Azkaban

Origin Story

A/N: This chapter alludes to child abuse and may be upsetting.

It was passed curfew when Minerva was finally able to head towards the infirmary. There had been the explanation finally and then the clean up. It took some effort to finally manage to drag the truth out of Potter and Weasley. How rude Weasley had been to poor Ms Granger. How cruel.

Minerva had hit the roof- twenty points from Gryffindor and a month of nightly detentions with Filch.

Weasleys from Charlie down had always been a handful. Bill was the dream student, Charlie though was always sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest, convinced there may be a dragon in there. Percy was a handful for the opposite reason. She tried to remain neutral at the least with students but he was a suck up and a sycophant.

The twins were something else entirely. But the youngest boy Ron- he concerned Minerva. Lazy. Arrogant. A bad influence on Potter and now speaking so cruelly to Ms Granger. Minerva knew she would have to speak to young Deimos about his assault on Weasley in retaliation but that was for another night.

She felt herself grow sad at the thought of Deimos. She cared for the boy, far quicker than the bonds she usually developed with her students. If she was being honest with herself it was probably in a way unbecoming of a teacher. She wanted to take him home in the term breaks, wrap him up and mother him in her warm cosy cottage.

Although she hadn't been blessed with motherhood, she had been far too dedicated to her career, she felt a maternal bond for the boy that was developing strongly. She cared for the boy. Deeply.

Albus had told her of his condition when he was discovered in Azkaban. Malnourished, filthy, caked in blood soaked baggy clothes. The poor child was severely traumatised and shrieked at any form of human contact after his initial 'rescue'. She could guess at the horrors that were inflicted on him but she didn't want to think about it.

She had watched him flourish the last two months, especially in his developing friendships. The way he took Longbottom, Parkinson and Granger under his wing, protected them, even though he had never been.

He may be the son of Wagnard Deimos and Bellatrix Lestrange but he was nothing like them. Minerva had taught both at Hogwarts and both had been cruel and sadistic, even as first years. She couldn't imagine the child being any further opposed to his progenitors.

At the same time she was greatly concerned. The boy had killed a mountain troll single handed. It seemed he had used the bludgeoning curse to slay the beast.

It was one of the darkest curses known to wizarding kind, not that far removed from an unforgivable. A boy his age should never have heard of such a curse, let alone have the ability or strength to cast it. The Daily Prophet had made much over the last two years about Bellatrix teaching and training the boy in the Dark Arts in Azkaban. There must be truth to the rumours. It was the only conclusion.

Minerva arrived at the hospital wing and pushed her concerns away as a conversation for the following day as she carefully opened the door, and closed it behind her silently, being aware of the late hour and sleeping students.

Poppy was sat in her office and looked up, smiling through the window and motioning Minerva over, who closed the office door behind her.

"Minerva, how are you?" Poppy asked smiling.

"Tired Poppy, it has been a long day" McGonagall smiled. "How are the young ladies?"

"Remarkably well considering their close encounter with a mountain troll. A few scrapes and scratches that were easily healed and I've administered both with calming draughts so they should sleep peacefully. But both were shaken by the ordeal. Particularly Miss Granger. Tell me, did Y/N really kill the troll?" Poppy finished by asking.