Chapter Text
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter One – Minerva McGonagall
Embarrassment was not a look that Minerva McGonagall, a normally stern woman radiating no-nonsense authority, wore well. But, as she reminded herself as she was escorted through the halls of St. Brutus’s Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys, she was not a woman who hid from her mistakes – and a mistake there had definitely been.
Director Price of the Centre, a sallow and corpulent man, awaited her in an office in grave contrast to the off-white and metal industrial halls through which Minerva had passed. Minerva sat straight-backed and accepted the proffered tea. It was weak.
“Director Price,” she began, “while I am not certain of the precise circumstances leading to Harry Potter’s imprisonment here—"
Price interrupted immediately. “Not imprisonment. St. Brutus’s is an alternative educational system for adolescent boys who have run into behavioral difficulties of one kind or another, but who are not lost altogether. These boys have quick tempers and little self-restraint, but they rarely commit premeditated offenses – with a few exceptions, of course.” He paused here to chuckle, but continued at Minerva’s unchanging gaze. “We at St. Brutus’s pride ourselves on keeping our boys out of prison by teaching them the importance of obeying authority. By the time they reach eighteen, the boys have either learned this lesson or they haven’t, in which cases it is usually not long before they commit some petty crime or another and are returned to the prison system. But more often than not, St. Brutus’s graduates learn to live within the confines of the law before we allow them to interact in normal social environments. So you see, Mrs. McGonagall, we do not imprison the boys at all, but teach them how to avoid such an eventuality.”
Minerva waited until he was done. “Professor McGonagall, Director Price, professor of sciences and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts Academy in Scotland.”
“Yes, yes, of course Professor,” said Director Price, looking unnerved.
“As I mentioned to you on the telephone, I’m here about one Harry Potter.” She paused. “A mistake has been made. Mr Potter ought to have been sent to Hogwarts at age eleven, in 1991, but there was an – oversight – somewhere in our paperwork. His parents left him tuition for Hogwarts for seven years in their trust, and we were supposed to retrieve him from his guardians. We had some recent turnover in the staff, and when the oversight was discovered we contacted them – the Dursleys, I believe – and we were told Mr Potter had been sent here some time ago.” Minerva’s face reflected some distaste as she recalled this interview.
“Yes, young Mr Potter. I took the liberty of reviewing his files before you came.” Here Price puffed up considerably. “We call him young Potter because he was quite young when he arrived. In fact, Professor, even if there hadn’t been an ‘oversight’ in your paperwork, you might not have found him, for it was the summer of 1991 that Potter attacked his guardians and ran away, and by that September he was here.”
Minerva was silent for a moment. “Mr. Potter - attacked his guardians?” she said faintly.
Price smiled benevolently. “Yes, well, it’s actually quite a bit more common than you’d expect. Many of our boys here can be quite violent and are easily provoked. Now don’t get me wrong,” he said hastily, remembering that this woman might be taking one of his many charges off his hands, “Potter is usually quite well-behaved, though the boy does have a temper. But we’ve released him to his guardians for brief holidays a few times over the years, while the more high-risk boys really cannot be trusted. Potter’s not a bad ‘un. Eleven was younger than usual for us, but I like to think of it as having time to rehabilitate him.”
“What exactly—” she asked, clearing her throat, “what did Mr Potter do, exactly?”
“Well, the upshot is, Potter and the uncle had an argument and Potter took a knife to him. No real damage was done – but Potter took the opportunity to grab his uncle’s wallet and run off. The uncle called the police and they had quite a time tracking the boy down. A few weeks later they caught up with him and a few other boys trying to hold up a convenience store in London. Potter was young though, and didn’t have much to do with it. They got him on a few charges of pickpocketting and petty vandalism, and brought him back to his guardians straight away.”
Minerva waited, and Price leaned in conspiratorially. “The thing is, they couldn’t quite rule out self-defense. That, and he was so young. So juvenile prison was out, and St. Brutus’s was the compromise.”
“What do you mean – self-defense?”
Price leaned back. “Well – you know. The boy had some bruises and such, but nobody could be certain who they’d come from.”
“What did Mr. Potter say?”
“He said they were from boys in London, that nobody ever beat him up at home. His caseworker didn’t believe him, but what was she to do? Real soft-hearted, that one. But I’ll say this – maybe he got scuffed around, but that boy gives as good as gets. Many the time’s the guards’ve had to pull him off bigger boys. Claims he doesn’t start the fights, but so do they all. Who can tell?”
Minerva didn’t know what to say. This certainly wasn’t what she had expected of Lily and James’s boy! And far beyond the misbehaviors she dealt with at Hogwarts. Nonetheless, the tuition had been paid, and after what had happened to Lily and James… well, most of them at Hogwarts felt they should do their best by their son.
“Well,” she finally said. “Is he allowed to leave? To come to Hogwarts?”
Price nodded. “As I said, Potter’s pretty well-behaved. Of course, you’d have to make arrangements for the holidays. We’ve had a devil of a time getting his guardians to take him – they can’t stand the boy, but technically they are his guardians. He used to be sent home for Christmas and Easter and a few weeks in the summer, provided he wasn’t in trouble, but they’ve refused to see him at all since he turned fourteen. Claimed he’d gotten big, and they were worried for the safety of their own son. So you’d have to work out holiday arrangements with them.”
“I see.” Privately, Minerva considered she’d rather not send the boy somewhere he was obviously not wanted, and decided she’d put off thinking about what to do with him next summer holidays when the time came. “May I meet with him?”
“Of course.” Abruptly, Price pushed his chair back. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll bring him here.”