"GRYFFINDOR!"
An almost deafening roar of approval crashed over her as the hat was whipped from her head, and she felt her heart swell with excitement at the overwhelmingly enthusiastic response from her new house. Applause accompanied her all the way down to the Gryffindor table, where a space was instantly made on one of the long benches, and she slipped in between two older students. Words of welcome washed over her, and although her cheeks glowed red from the sheer extent of their fervour, she found herself smiling back with as much enthusiasm as the rest.
By the time the sorting was finished, her palms tingled from the force of her clapping, and her cheeks ached from the grin she could not help. Gryffindor had been, by far, the most enthused table, hollering and hooting in approval at each new arrival to their house, which had seemed to be quite a few. No matter that none of them knew each other, or had ever met before—they were all Gryffindors, now, and that made them family.
The feast that followed was far beyond any meal she had ever experienced at home, having come from the very outskirts of Caithness, where the only kind of living to be had was the simple kind. Between bites of pumpkin pie and chocolate mousse, she had chattered enthusiastically with her new house mates, who had been awed to hear that she had already mastered some spells. Upon realising this was not usual, she quickly made an effort to cover-up the extent of what she had learned, not wanting to be alienated from her fellow first years so soon, but entertained a couple of the other girls with a simple levitation charm. She floated strawberry truffles up and down the length of the table while they laughed, and tried in vain to catch them on their tongues. Even some of the older students seemed impressed by the ease with which she controlled her magic, and she felt elation blossom in her chest at finally being able to use her abilities, freely.
At home, magic had always been a source of tension. Her mother had tried to explain to her, once, that it was because her father was a Muggle, but she hadn't really understood. She loved magic, and to finally be amongst other Witches and Wizards filled her with a sense of belonging that she had never known she was missing.
When she finally sat back, stuffed past the point of being satisfied, she glanced around contentedly at her new home. Although a little sleepy, both from the food and the excitement of the day, she still felt a strong burst of enthusiasm as she thought of what was yet to come. Soon, they would be lead back to the Gryffindor common room, to the dorm she would share with all of the other Gryffindor girls, and then tomorrow they would have breakfast together… and begin classes.
This was what she was really looking forward to. This was what she had barely been able to sleep, for thinking about, ever since she had received her Hogwarts letter.
She would finally be able to begin learning magic. Real magic…
Not just the simple spells she had dabbled with, at home. Tiredness forgotten, she glanced around eagerly, in search of her new professors. Finding them all sitting at a long table at the head of the Great Hall, she looked along the benches, taking them in one at a time.
In the centre was a balding and rather frail looking old man, who she could only presume to be the headmaster, given his position and rather grand-looking chair. He appeared to be engaged in conversation with the man on his left, who she only lingered on briefly. Something about his expression seemed to ooze smugness, in a way that made her feel uneasy. Wondering absently what subject he was the professor for, she continued along the row, until someone caught her eye. A man of an indiscernible age was laughing easily with the woman beside him, and as he did his eyes seemed to light up with unrestrained mirth. Something about his smile, and the intelligent glint in his eye captured her attention, and for a moment she forgot both herself and her manners entirely. Staring at him openly, she watched as he leaned back in his chair, chest rising and falling as he recovered from a hearty bout of laughter.
Then he looked up.
He had somehow seemed to know exactly where to find her, as though he had felt her eyes on him, and suddenly his gaze was locked onto hers. She felt embarrassment at being caught rise, and her cheeks flared hotly, but somehow she couldn't look away. Intense blue pinned her in place, and for a moment the rest of the room seemed to drop away. The bustle and noise of the Great Hall became distant and muffled, as her breath caught in her throat.
Then someone spoke, and slowly the words made it through the haze, until they finally penetrated her mind.
"That's Professor Dumbledore."
"What?" she said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as everything came back in a rush, and she quickly spun round to face whoever had spoken. The older boy she had seated herself next to—Gerry, he had said he was called—nodded towards the teacher's table.
"The blond—or, well, I suppose more grey, now… The one in blue that you were watching. That's Professor Dumbledore."
She shrunk a little in her seat, having being called out for staring so noticeably at him, but the boy didn't seem to notice, and curiosity quickly overpowered her embarrassment.
"What does he teach?" she asked, trying to make her tone belie her sincere interest.
"Transfiguration," he replied, and something in her leapt at the word.
Transfiguration!
Turning back towards the teacher's table, her eyes instantly found him again, but he was no longer looking her way. Engaged, once more, in conversation with the woman beside him, his attention was preoccupied, and although she watched for a long moment, he did not look up, again.
Despite her best efforts, she could not help but glance back up at the blond-grey man with the twinkling eyes for the remainder of the evening—right up until the prefects arrived to usher the first year students from the Great Hall, and lead them to their respective common rooms. She yawned, tiredly, as exhaustion set in, and hardly registered the walk back to the Gryffindor tower, absently hoping she would be able to ask an older student to remind her, of the way, in the morning.
As she slipped into her impossibly comfortable four-poster, though, and sunk her head into the downy-soft feather pillows, letting her tired eyes slip shut… piercing blue still stared back at her from behind closed lids.
That night she dreamt of teacups turning into tigers, turning into trumpets, turning into tulips… each a brilliant shade of blue, and she woke in the morning full of eager anticipation.
Wednesday's classes could hardly come fast enough.
Written for: The 'New Triwizard Tournament'. Prompts: (character) Minerva McGonagall, cross-gen pairing, (genre) romance
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
CC cover image (entitled 'Feathers') courtesy of elston on Flickr.
A/N: Thanks for reading! This is the first chapter in my first proper multi-chap, written for the final round of the Twi-Wizard Tournament competition. Although I've missed the deadline, and so cannot win, I still intend to finish it.
I hope you enjoyed it so far, but as always, whether you did or didn't, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you thought :)
GG x