"They are the worst kind of muggles imaginable, Albus! I've been watching them all day." She snapped, her voice furious and more of a quiet scream rather than a harsh whisper. It was dark and silent, so it didn't matter if anyone heard, because they couldn't see, but it was still a dead giveaway to their location. "We are NOT leaving Harry here with- t-these people, regardless of how important you've gaslighted yourself to think. I refuse to let you drop him here, it would be torture."

Of course, McGonagall was persistent, and a few simple words were able to make Albus cave. Harry was not given to the Dursleys, and was to be raised in the Wizarding World, where he'd learn all he needed to. He'd be able to feel famous and yet, humbled by Minerva whenever need be.

{Time Skip ~ Please Note That McGonagall Was In Her Forties When He Was A Kid (Ages 1-10)}

Little baby Harry was now six, and much more happy living with McGonagall than he ever could've been with the Dursleys. He was well-fed, smart, and again, humbled whenever his ego got a little too big. He had a nice bedroom covered in all the books and toys he'd gotten from the Muggle world, and even if McGonagall only had a small cottage in Hogsmeade, the inside was much bigger. Although, with the hectic work schedule that Minerva had, she relied on someone else to help with Harry - you. And lovely, because it was dinnertime and, of course, since Minerva only was released in three hours, you had to feed him.