This is just a one-shot idea that came to me in the middle of doing my homework, and I'm not exactly sure why I felt the need to write it and share it. But here it is anyway. This isn't a pairing, obviously; it's just my take on how McGonagall and Snape could have met. I'm sorry if it sucks...I didn't really go back and re-edit it after I wrote it. But regardless, I hope you enjoy.

(Disclaimer - I don't own anything in this story, other than the story itself. Not the people, or the town. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.) :)

1968

She'd seen some interesting things in her thirty-three years of life so far, but nothing could have prepared her for what she saw that night.

Minerva McGonagall had long since gotten used to the routine that had been her reality for several years. She would teach her subject of choice-naturally, of course, it had to be Transfiguration-at Hogwarts during the fall, winter, and spring months; this was a practice that she enjoyed very much. Since she'd been at Hogwarts herself, over a decade before, it had been made perfectly clear to her classmates, her professors, and herself that she did possess an undeniable proclivity and talent for the subject of Transfiguration. And Albus Dumbledore, the newest Headmaster, had made the request that she move into the castle and begin teaching full-time long after her years of schooling had concluded. At first, she'd declined; it was always her ambition to become a Healer at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, just like her mother Isobel had been. But when Dumbledore asked her to stay on as a professor and educate the bright young witches and wizards of tomorrow, she simply couldn't refuse him.

The downside to that, though, was that with the job came some uneventful and tedious summers. Minerva had agreed to Dumbledore's employment proposal, but she hadn't accounted for the fact that she would be spending most of her summers traveling around Britain by broomstick, carriage, the Floo Network, or Apparition to seek out young wizards and witches to bring to Hogwarts. Dumbledore had assured her that there were many around the country who had yet to be discovered, but she had to admit that she had a fair bit of trouble finding them some of the time. It wasn't always easy to spot a young person who didn't have any knowledge of their magical abilities.

Now, she was trudging down a narrow sidewalk, the cold evening air chilling her even through her thick robes. The town was a large, but grubby one; it housed not much more than several thousand people, to her knowledge, but it looked dirty and neglected. The river nearby projected a particularly pungent odor, one that smelled of rotten plants and contaminated water. The town itself was suspiciously silent, almost like a tomb, making Minerva feel increasingly paranoid that someone was watching her. Nevertheless, she swallowed her fear and continued on, wrapping her cloak tightly around herself as a reprieve from the chilly evening air and wondering why on earth Dumbledore had sent her there in the first place.

As she reached the end of the block, her eyes fell on a tall, brick house. It didn't stand out amongst those around it. There was nothing particularly extravagant about it that she could see; it seemed just like all the others that she had passed on the street, if even more run-down. However, Minerva looked closer, and in an instant, she felt something strange, yet all too familiar. There was a barrier around this large, dilapidated house that she could only recognize as the one that surrounded a young witch or wizard of considerable strength and value. She'd come across those a few times before, but this time, it felt different. She'd not expected the presence of someone so powerful to be found in the dingy, disgusting, Muggle-occupied town of Cokeworth, England, of all possible places. It just wasn't natural.

Casting aside her thoughts, Minerva slowly approached the house. The windows were dusted over and the bricks were riddled with grime, but as she peered into the first-story window, squinting through the dirt, she spotted a young boy sitting in the hallway. He looked to be about eight years old or so, with messy black hair and creamy skin of a ghastly, almost white, hue. The boy sat against the wall with a very large pot and spoon in front of him and a considerably large grin on his face. He stirred the contents of the pot vigorously, and Minerva smirked. Whatever he trying to concoct, maybe some sort of potion, it was certainly getting him very excited.

As she watched, a woman that could only be assumed to be the boy's mother approached him. She knelt down at his side, smiling and talking to him. The boy spoke to her, seeming happy and pointing to his pot, and she ruffled his hair, looking very proud of whatever he'd managed to make. Minerva couldn't help but smile at the sight. The woman already seemed like a very loving person, and whether she was a Muggle or a witch, there was absolutely no doubt that she accepted her son's talents and encouraged them.

However, as she watched, Minerva was startled to see both the woman and the boy look up in fear as a loud, spine-chilling shout emanated from somewhere else in the house; it was so loud that Minerva could easily hear it herself, even from outside the window. The boy frantically covered the pot with a lid that sat nearby, as if to protect it, before a tall, burly man in ragged clothing came sauntering into the room. The woman stood up, addressing him directly, and to Minerva's horror, the man began to yell in her face before eventually shoving her to the ground. The boy's face contorted in pain as his mother fell, and he yelled at the man, who Minerva guessed was most likely his father. He shook his fist in anger, before the man turned on him and kicked the pot over. Its contents spilled out onto the floor, prompting the boy to jump to his feet and hit his father over and over.

His mother looked as if she was begging both her son and her husband to stop, but the boy's father just laughed and slapped him across the face, not bothering to listen to his wife. The boy dropped to the ground, with a red mark appearing on his cheek and tears streaming from his eyes, prompting Minerva clenched her fists in out of pure. As the violent man approached his son again, preparing to launch another blow, Minerva swiftly produced her wand from the folds of her emerald robes and whispered, "Protego."

A shield appeared directly above the boy, and his father's punch was easily deflected. He was forced backward, much to the shock of both the boy and his mother, before ambling angrily out of the room. His wife helped her son up off the floor, holding his face in her hands and examining him. Minerva breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that for the time being, the boy was safe from his father's rage. She flicked her wand gently, and watched the boy's reaction as the spilled contents on the floor returned to the pot in a matter of seconds, as if nothing had happened. He and his mother looked at each other, thoroughly confused, before she ushered him upstairs to treat his cheek, which now sported a big, purple bruise.

As the two departed, a thought worked its way into Minerva's head. That boy was skilled, there was no question about it. He would no doubt be a powerful wizard one day, and she was going to make sure that he made it to Hogwarts, away from his father, even if she had to escort him there herself.

1971

Three years later, Minerva walked down the same run-down street, which by that point, she had learned was called Spinner's End. It still looked the same as it had the last three summers that she'd visited maybe a bit more dirty, not that she would have expected anything more than that. This time, however, she strode along confidently and with purpose, rather than with apprehension and disgust. And this time around, she had a Hogwarts acceptance letter clutched tightly in her hand.

Minerva approached the front of the house at the tail end of the block, the same place where she'd sensed an undeniably powerful source of magic all those years before. The slick grass squished under her feet as she made her way up to the door and knocked loudly, with nerves of both excitement and terror coursing throughout her body.

After a few moments, the door opened. There stood the boy's mother, the same as she had looked the first time Minerva had visited Spinner's End; a mop of mud-colored hair sat atop her head, and her skin was extremely sallow, with heavy grey bags underneath her eyes. She appeared to be slightly more worn-down than she had before, a fact that didn't really surprise Minerva at all, but she still appeared to be quite miserable and gaunt nonetheless. The woman looked Minerva up and down, apparently confused by her attire for a brief moment. "Uh...hello. May I help you?"

Minerva took a deep breath. "Are you Eileen?" she asked cautiously.

The woman nodded slowly. "Yes, I am."

"And you do have a son of eleven years old, am I correct?"

Eileen raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I have a son...but may I inquire as to who's asking?"

Minerva stuck out her hand. "Minerva McGonagall. Order of Merlin, First Class, Former Senior Secretary of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Registered Animagus. Head of Transfiguration, Head of Gryffindor House, and Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At your service."

A stunned Eileen gently shook Minerva's hand. "You're-oh, my goodness! You've come for my son! You've come to bring him to Hogwarts, to teach him magic. Haven't you?"

"I have, madam," Minerva replied politely. "And I must inform you that I've observed your boy to be a particularly skilled wizard, indeed. He possesses immeasurable talent at the young age he is that most witches and wizards do not acquire until much, much later on. It's quite an undervalued trait, and a rare one to be sure, but there is no doubt in my mind as to his abilities. I must implore you to allow him to attend Hogwarts so that he can further develop his talent."

As she said these words, the boy appeared at his mother's side. "Mum? What's going on out here?" he asked.

Minerva smiled at him, noting that he'd grown at least three inches since the last time she'd seen him. "Hello there, young man," she said.

He just stared up at her curiously, opting not to answer.

Eileen patted her son's shoulder. "Love, this is Professor McGonagall," she said softly. "She teaches at Hogwarts, where I went to school when I was your age."

Minerva nodded, and handed the boy his letter. He opened it, skimming the words quickly. "'We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.' So, that means…"

"You're a wizard, dear," murmured Eileen, trying unsuccessfully to hide her excitement. "Just like I'm a witch."

The boy looked up at Minerva in wonder. "Are you here to bring me to Hogwarts?" he asked. "So I can learn how to do magic, just like my mum?"

"I am," Minerva replied. "In fact, I wanted to personally escort you."

He grinned, and Minerva's heart melted. After everything she'd witnessed over the past three years, from beatings to burnings to verbal abuse, it was a nice change to see a genuine smile of excitement and happiness on the young wizard's face. "Well, then...I'll go pack my things!" he said.

The boy turned to race off, when Minerva held up her hand. "There shall be no need for that." She gave her wand a flick, and within mere seconds, a trunk full of clothes appeared at the boy's side. "There you are."

"Extraordinary!" he exclaimed. "Mum, can I go? Please? I want to learn magic! Spells, levitation, seeing into the future-"

"Don't forget about Potions," Minerva interjected. "As I understand it, you have a particular knack for potion-making, don't you, young man?"

The gleeful expression on his face was unlike anything Minerva had seen before. "I do! I really do!" he cried. "Mum's seen me make them! You can even ask her!"

Minerva smiled proudly. "I'll take your word for it. From what I've seen of your potion-making skills, Professor Slughorn will be most impressed with you, I'm sure of it. Now, why don't we head off? We still have to purchase your supplies for you before you leave, and believe me, there are a lot of them."

The boy opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a loud shout from the upstairs portion of the house. "What's going on down there?!" Minerva flinched at the sound, and Eileen pulled her son into a protective embrace as his unkempt father rumbled down the stairs. He looked rather agitated, but his expression darkened considerably at the sight of Minerva standing in the doorway. "And who are you? Some Ministry of Magic hag, I reckon?"

Minerva stood her ground. "Tobias, is it? Yes, that's it. You should know that I will not tolerate words of such a hateful nature being spoken in my presence," she said firmly, trying to hide how frightened she was.

Tobias wagged his finger at her. "You'll not be taking my boy away to that wretched school!" he spat furiously. "Nothing good ever comes out of there!"

"Father!" the boy shouted, horrified. "The most talented witches and wizards in history have come out of Hogwarts!"

"Shut up, boy!" the man bellowed, making his son recoil in terror. "They're nothing but a bunch of self-obsessed lunatics who deserve a good smacking!"

Despite his words, Minerva smirked. "Oh, quite the contrary, actually," she said. "I've been observing your son during these last few years, and it has become abundantly clear to me that he will be an immensely gifted wizard one day, as well as a well-developed citizen. The Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore himself, agrees with me on that. You wouldn't want to dispute the words of the most powerful and advanced wizard in the world, would you, Tobias?"

He narrowed his eyes. "You'll speak nothing of the sort in my house, witch! I'm not sending my boy away to that heathen school based on the words and misgivings of some crazy old man and whoever the devil you are! Now away with you, and don't ever let me catch you near my house again!"

Minerva, however didn't bother to move a single inch. Instead, she raised her wand and pointed it directly at his chest, her face taking on a hardened look. "You would do well not to insult Albus Dumbledore in my presence, you foolish Muggle," she said sternly. "That being said, I would advise you not to speak another word."

Tobias scoffed. "Monsters, you are. Your whole kind. You're all menaces to society, do you hear me? Menaces!"

To Eileen and her son's surprise, a jet of bright blue light burst out of the end of Minerva's wand, shooting toward the stairwell and hitting Tobias square in the chest. He gasped and fell to the ground, rendered unconscious, and Minerva smiled sheepishly. "I apologize for that. He was getting on my nerves. Oh, don't worry, he's just knocked out. Probably won't remember much, either."

"Thank goodness," Eileen murmured, shooting an angry glare at her husband as she bent down and faced her son. "Now listen to me, sweetheart. You must behave yourself while you're there, alright? Don't go getting yourself into any trouble, or I'll have Professor McGonagall here send you straight back here. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mum," he replied. She enveloped him in a warm hug, and the tears began to run full-force down her cheeks. Minerva had to work very hard to fight back tears herself...this was by far the worst part of the duty Dumbledore had assigned to her: watching parents and their young children having to part ways with one another.

At long last, Eileen let her son go. He heaved his trunk up by the handle and dragged it across the threshold, following Minerva down the steps and out onto the stone road. Eileen tearfully waved from the doorway, dabbing at her eyes with a cloth. She continued to wave to her son until he and Minerva were far enough down the street that they could no longer see the house anymore.

Minerva strode along quickly, approaching the enchanted carriage that had brought her to Cokeworth. She turned to the saddened boy next to her. "Keep your chin up, boy," she said softly. "You'll see your mother again, soon enough."

"I hope so," he mumbled. "I hope she'll be okay."

She patted his shoulder gently. "She will be just fine, I promise you that. And don't you worry yourself too much. You'll have the opportunity to come back and visit her. Now, tell me. What is your name? Your full name, I mean."

He looked up at her, and in that moment, she could see the unmistakable storm of turmoil and conflict looming in his dark, almond-shaped eyes. "My name is Severus. Severus Snape."

Minerva smiled. "Well, Severus Snape, I believe you have the ride of a lifetime ahead of you. Truly, the adventure starts here. Now come. We must be on our way."

A small smile spread over Severus' face, and after lugging his heavy trunk into the back of the carriage, they took off. As the two disappeared into the night, neither of them could have known how true Minerva's words had been; that night was the beginning of a lifelong adventure, indeed. It signified the start of the young wizard's training, as well as his introduction into the magical world that before, he'd barely gotten glimpses of. It was the start of an arduous but exciting future for both he and Minerva, as they would later go on to be much more than student and professor, but also colleagues and coworkers.

And that night marked the beginning of a friendship that would last them for the rest of their lives.

(A/N: Please feel free to review/pm me with your thoughts about this one, but gentleness would be appreciated. I know it's not one of my best, but I felt the overwhelming the need to share it for some reason. And yes, I did take a bit of inspiration from Hagrid's first meeting with Harry in The Philosopher's Stone, given that Snape and Harry were both abused in their respective households. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. ~BlackthornUnicorn98)