Right so......do I put my comments here?.....is this thing on?.....well too bad...this is where they're going....anyways....so this is my first fic......porbably won't be writing too many...I'm not much of a fanfic writer....but it rained today, and so I was inspired....don't ask me why....oh yeah...I don't spell to good, but just pretend you know what I mean and we'll all be happy.....:)...oh yeah...all you highschool-aged guys out there....this is NOTHING DIRTY!....Harry is not fantasizing about Professer McGonagall so don't start with your creative minds kay?
Disclaimer-I own nothing.....please don't sue....
kay then.....ON WITH THE FICTION!:)
Harry slumped down in his seat and drummed his fingers absently on his desk as he watched the rain slideing down the window pane. Professer McGonagall's voice echoed through the class. It was Friday though, and Harry was tuned out. He stared out the window, his mind whirring miles away to his Godfather, Sirrus Black, as Hermione whispered something angerily at Ron who was twisting a scrap of parchment into a spit ball. Professer McGonagall's sharp voice rang out across the silent class.
"Mr. Potter! Are you paying attention?" Harry jsrked out of his daze, and his eyes snapped back to professer McGonagall.
"Yes professer." She frowned.
"Honestly! All my classes have been drifting off. I've barely been able to keep them focused. " She surveyed the class, most of whom were slumped over their notes in varrying states of conciousness. She sighed and moved to her desk.
"Well, I guess it has been a long day. I could give you a head start on your homework, provided you work. Answer the questions on page 465 and review your notes for a pop quiz next class. If you have any questions you can ask me." With that she sat down behind her desk and began shifting papers. The rest of the class hardley moved, with the exception of Hermione who bent over her book, quill in hand. Ron pulled his desk along hers and began pretending to work, but mainly he was just trying to catch her attention. Harry surveyed the class , and smiled inwardly at Ron and Hermione before he turned back to his window. He felt a trifle moody, which he suppposed was due to the sudden change in weather, but in anycase, he wasn't in a working mood. He tried to think about Quiddach, and the upcomeing match, but he wasn't able to keep his mind from wandering. It wandered a wide spectrums of subjects and finaly settled on his mother. He sat there quietly wondering what it would be like if she was still alive and waiting for him every summer when he steppped off the Hogwarts Express. He was thinking about how he would love to have homemade cookies from home every week, like Malfoy did when he jerked out of his daydream. He looked around to make sure he hadn't missed anything, and it caught on Professer McGonagall.
She looked different somehow. She too was stareing out the window, her arms proped on the desk infront of her, one hand was raised and was slowly running a quill in and out of the severe bun at the back of her head. A lock of her black hair pulled out and fell by her face. Harry was shocked at the transition. Before her face had been something familiar. It had been stern and unyeilding, but now it was soft, unmasked. Her mouth, normaly a harsh line of compressed lips, had relaxed and a new gentleness filled it. Her hand absently dropped the quill and deftly tucked the lock of hair behind her ear. Harry watched to his amazement as her hand went to a chain around her neck, barely visable underneath the neckline of her cloak, and she pulled out a ring. Harry's eyes almost popped. The last time he had seen that ring it had been on Sirrus Black. Professer McGonagall considered it for a moment, holding it in her hands so that it was not visable to the students, and as Harry watched she smiled slightly, her eyes unfocused with memory. Then Semus Finnagin let out a paticularly loud snore and she quickly tucked the ring away, her glance darting across the classroom as her face once again resumed it's normal appearance. Harry quickly looked down, not meeting her gaze. He felt her stareing around the class for a few minuets, and then she began shuffling papers again. Harry stared at his books, not seeing the words printed there, but instead seeing professer McGonagall's face, her dark eyes sparkling, her dark hair unclasped and falling across her shoulders, her cheeks blushing furiously, and her mouth curving in a smile as she raised her cheek to accept a kiss from an equally dark haired man.
Harry shook his head. It didn't make sense. Sirrus and McGanagall didn't know each other, unless, unless- Unless they attended school together along with Harry's parents. Harry froze. Sirrus and McGonagall? Never. Harry quickly shut the idea from his mind and began thinking about Quiddich.
Just then the bell rang and he scrambled to get his stuff together and catch up with Ron and Hermione who had wandered off arguing agian, oblivious to the fact that Harry was left behind. Harry raced out of the classroom, but he stopped in the doorway and watched them walk off still aruging. He kinda felt like being alone anyways. He turned and went the opposite direction.
He took a long time to get to the Commen room, and even then he just wandered through in a bit of a daze and stuffed his bookbag into his trunk and sat on it and watched the rain fall. Ron came in after a while, hot all over from the argument.
"Hey Harry, what's the matter? Why didn't you wait for us after Transfiguration?" Harry smiled quietly.
"You seemed, engaged." Ron shrugged.
"but I'm not now. You want to do anything? Fred and George are planning to sneak out to Hogsmeade tonight. You wanna come?" Harry blinked and looked back at Ron.
"What?-No, no, you go on without me. I'm kinda tiered. I think I'll stay here." Ron frowned.
"Are you sure nothings the matter?" Harry smiled.
"No, nothings wrong. I just want to be alone for a while." Ron nodded understandingly.
"Sure. Just let me get a sweater and I'll be out of your hair." Harry nodded his thanks and lay back on his bed. He heard Ron cross the room and the door unclose and shut (A/N:OMG....I can't tell you how many times I have read *unclose* in Jane Erye...honestly...could they just NOT say OPEN?...oh well...so i decided to use it....I'll shut up now....the story's running away...COME BACK!)
Harry sat up and looked around his room. His Firebolt peeked at him from under his bed. He jumped up and grabbed it as well as his black hooded cloak. He clasped the silver fastenings over his shoulders and slipped out of the dorm. He managed to make it through the commen room and to the ground floor without being seen. He hurried out of the castle towards the Quiddach pitch, but stopped halfway. The air was refreshingly chill and the rain had slacked off to a light drizzle. The grey clouds muted the sunlight, and Harry smiled to himself. It was perfect. He mounted his broom and kicked off.
He swooped over the pitch, and starting at one end dove towards the ground, leveling off only when his toes dragged the slick grass. The wind whipped his face, making his nose burn, and he reached forward to touch the grass barely a foot from his broom. Then the pulled his broom up in a steep bank. He was about to level off when a large feathery object hooted in his ear. He laughed as Hedwig flitted aroundhim. She hooted and began to dive, twisting and turning. Harry followed. They played this game every once in a while. Hedwig would come and find him one day and nip at his ear until he gave up trying to do homework and came and flew his broom with her.
They chased eachother across the school grounds, and finaly, after a wild ride Hedwig hooted at him twice and swerved off towards the owlery. Harry watched her go, pause in midair. He was alone again, but happy now. He felt better, so he decided to take a lap around the lake for fun before heading back to the commen room where there was sure to be a party in full swing .
When he reached the lake he was surprised to see another figure standing at the edge. And there was only one person it could be, there was only one family on campus with red hair. He hung back, unwilling to disturb Ginny. She was idly walking along the lake. She paused a moment, and then she sighed and reached up and yanked out the fastening that held her hair in place and shook it out. It laid think across her shoulders and hid her face, not that Harry could make out her expression anyways (A/N:heehee:) I used makeout in connection with Harry and Ginny!:) Her hair color provided a sharp contrast between her hair and her dark cloak, like something had burst into flame atop her cloak. Harry watched as she stooped a picked up two stones. She slung one of them acorss the mirror still surface of the lake, making it skip. It skipped four times before it sank, and as she prepared her next stone and idea snuck up and tapped Harry on the shoulder. He turned around, but it wasn't behind him (A/N:please disregard that last sentence....my muse just finished watching Rocky and Bullwinkle...bring on the PUNS!...:) As Ginny released her next sone, Harry, who was not that far behind her dove into action. He skimmed the surface of the lake after the stone. Forchantly for Harry Ginny's second throw had much more power behind it, and he was able to catch it before it sank on the sixth skip. He pulled up and circled back to where Ginny was standing motionless on thebank of the lake. He hovered in the air by her. She stared at him, silently, blushing funriously. Harry smiled and held out the rock.
"Hello, Ginny." Something in her broke and she grinned suddenly, like a kindergartener shareing a secret with a friend. She took the rock
"Hello Harry." Harry grinned too, and suddenly he felt great. They stood there quietly for a while grinning like fools at each other, and then Harry's sneses pulled themselves out of a Ginny overload and kicked his firmly in the seat of the pants, and he spoke.
"I'm gona go in now. There's probably a party going on and I'll be required to keep Ron and Hermione from killing each other. " Ginny smiled and nodded, still blushing, and Harry nodded again and then peeled off towards the castle once again, his mind whirring with images of long red hair and soft quiet smiles and sparkling brown eyes.
As he landed he thought of the next letter her would write to Sirrus.
"Dear Sirrus, is there anything you would like to tell me about you and Professer McGonagall? Perhaphs anything you would like me to tell professer McGonagall?-" He smiled. It was a good day.