Set in 1941. It's not brilliant, I know; and it severely lacks plot- but I simply put my own depression and feeling of self-worthlessness and dumped them on Minerva; to see how she'd react. A lot better than me, I might add. At the time of uploading this I can tell you that I've almost recovered entirely from my three-year long depression (and year long suicidal) bout- buuut, I wanna see Minerva squirm some more. :D
so here you go: 'Cold Hearts in Winter's Warmth'
Minerva McGonagall sighed.
Who was she kidding? All she was, and all she was ever destined to be was an insufferable know-it-all.
She shoved her hands in the warm pockets of her long black coat, and went outside.
The snow was falling hard, and after three long weeks of the cold white stuff, the attraction of it had disappeared for all the students who just wanted to be able to go outside without freezing their toes off.
Although, it made Care Of Magical Creatures much more fun.
Minerva was a fourth year, was fifteen in October just gone, and felt thoroughly useless.
She might not have been the worst student, but she sure wasn 't the best. OK- so it was only one or two students that were better than her- and they were complete weirdo 's- but it still meant that she wasn 't good enough.
She wasn 't bullied- but then again she wasnt exactly popular either.
She sighed again, and was sorely tempted to just sit down where she was, and let the cold snow and ice do its work.
The ground was covered in about ten inches of snow, soaking Minerva 'through and through. Her swede boots weren 't designed for rain, let alone snow.
She continued walking, seeing some idiots throwing snowballs coming into range.
The lake should be somewhere around here, she mused, seeing the familiar trees.
Or what was left of them. Winter had a funny way of killing everything.
Damn- Minerva thought. I 'd better not slip. That 'd just make my day. It really would.
She smiled dryly to herself. No. Slipping over and crashing through the ice would not be the way to go.
Standing still, and replaying that image through her head, Minerva realised she should be standing on it. Just in the middle.
Greeaaattt. Minerva shook her head. There really was no end to some people 's idiocy.
"Accio broomstick." She said, waving her wand in front of her.
Slowly, the old ratted thing came into view.
Mounting it side-saddle, as Minerva found great pleasure in being different, she flew around a bit.
The forbidden forest was almost unrecognisable, being all covered in snow.
A mounting plume of smoke announced the centaur 's were feasting on something or other, and the grand wrought iron gates to Hogwarts were wide open.
Minerva frowned to herself. The trips to Hogsmead weren 't for weeks yet. Where they?
Silently telling her broom to go forward, Minerva leant down, watching the small shadows of people talking beneath her.
She was much higher than she thought she 'd be, these old brooms had a tendency to drift.
"Heeeyy!" A shrill, high pitch voice interrupted her thoughts. "Heyyy! McG!" It was faint and quiet, albeit Minerva could tell they were yelling at the top of their voice.
Riddle 's voice did that when he shouted.
Tom Riddle was... odd.
She supposed it was what you might call a love-hate relationship.
She hated his damn guts, yet couldn 't stay away from him. He felt the same way, as far as she could tell.
Dropping to the ground in her favourite way; standing in the stirrups and bringing the broomstick down, vertically instead of horizontally, she jumped off into his open arms.
"Hey yourself." She said curtly.
"Wench." He replied.
Minerva frowned, and pursed her lips, turning her head to the side.
Then she smiled; after all, they were only teasing each other.
Neither meant anything to the other. After all, she couldn 't very well be a wench, whilst being a virgin could she? Not to mention she was more interested in women than men.
"So. What 's the scene on the weather front?" Tom asked, referring to the weather forecast he knew Minerva would have read in that morning 's 'Prophet '.
"Well, today- snow. Tomorrow- snow. And guess what on Thursday?" Minerva smiled.
"Snow?" Tom laughed.
"You didn 't tell me you 're a seer!" Minerva joked.
She honestly couldn 't tell why Tom didn 't read the paper more often at breakfast. But then he got all her needed to know from her anyway after so...
They walked together towards the castle.
A young Hufflepuff ran past, with a pile of books in his arms.
"One." Riddle smiled.
"Pardon?" Minerva looked at him.
"Two." His smile grew.
"What? Tom, I-?"
"Three." He stated proudly.
A loud scream and consequent thud announced that the Hufflepuff had found the Lake.
"OhmiGod!" Minerva ran towards him, unconsciously magically melting the snow as she went.
She transfigured her boots to ice-skates when she reached the lake, and glided over to the Hufflepuff boy, who was failing at picking himself up.
Minerva extended him a hand, and almost fell over herself, heaving him up.
"Are you OK?" She asked him, once they were both standing.
"Uhuh."The boy replied, flicking bits of snow and ice from his rather damp robes.
"Here. It won 't last long, but it will get you to the edge." Minerva said, and with a flick of her wand turned his Wellington boots to skates.
He thanked her, then went to pick up his books, only to fall over again.
From the side of the lake Minerva heard Tom laughing.
She sneered at him, then helped the boy back up.
"Charm them." She suggested, gesturing at the books.
"Charm them?" The boy repeated.
"Wingardium leviosa?" She prompted. "Then take them into your dorm and leave them by the fire for a few hours."
"But I have detention now." He moaned.
Minerva shrugged. "Whatever." She sighed, then glided to the edge; fed up of useless people thinking they know better.
A thud behind her made her jump, but she persisted on.
Tom watched as Minerva jumped off the ice, changing her skates back to shoes in the split-second she was air born.
He admired her, and wasn 't afraid to admit it.
She might annoy the hell out of him, and definitely cramp his style, but she was awesome in her own little way.
She walked over to him, hands once again hidden deep in her coat pockets, and smiled at him with tired eyes.
He went to encase her in a hug, but she turned away.
"I just need some time alone, 'kay?"She took her broomstick off him, and began to stride back out, into the snow.
She realised that whatever happiness, or contentedness she had found with Riddle in those few minutes had vanished, along with her patience.
Angrily grabbing her wand from it 's semi-permanent residence in her hair (she always kept it in a bun, and well. It sure beats keeping quills in her hair!), she vanished all the damn snow from the Grounds.
She slumped to the floor, drained.
"Urgh. Why?" She asked the empty grounds before her.
Smiling at the broomstick that was floating slightly before her, she picked it up; holding it vertically, stirrups and tail of the broom down, she stood on it and started to fly.
Almost lazily, she looped around the Grounds of Hogwarts, not caring that she missed lunch and lessons would be starting soon.
Wanting to be alone, she hopped off the broom onto the roof of the Astronomy Tower.
There she sat, and thought.
It vaguely started to snow again; Minerva blew at a snowflake that dared to land on her nose.
Just as she was reaching for her wand to cast a spell to warm her up, a deep, rich voice that rung through the open air made her jump.
"Miss McGonagall. We had rather begun to think that we had lost you!"
Minerva looked down, and saw no-one.
"Having fun up there?" The male voice asked again.
This time Minerva looked to the outside corridor that connected to the Viaduct.
Sure enough, there was the very man she feared it was; Professor Dumbledore was leaning over the rail, watching her like he had all the time in the world.
"Oh." She said sullenly. "Hello Professor."