Scowling Minerva

Chapter One: Meet Minerva

Disclaimer: Minerva and all the other delightful characters I have used in this story belong to J.K Rowling as do the places and inanimate objects and…etc. Its all hers and I take no responsibility.

For: G

A/N: I have resubmitted this so hopefully it's easier for you to read. Enjoy!

It's the fifties. World War Two is over. Elvis is about to make the world dance to a new type of music; rock and roll. Television will soon replace the good old radio. The likes of Audrey Hepburn and Alfred Hitchcock will dazzle viewers.

The term 'teenager' has just started being used. In a grand and old yet falling apart house, Minerva McGonagall is about to learn what being a teenager means.

Minerva McGonagall was born on the 16th of May, 1940. She was a scrawny, brown eyed baby with dark hair. For eleven years, she lived with her parents and sister. She was a scowling girl. She liked to read and hated getting dirty.

She didn't have that many friends seeing as how she was 'the bookish snob' at her school. She tended to hate people on sight and lots of people hated her. The other children bullied her quite a lot. She couldn't do anything about it so she let it happen. She'd rather be bullied than pretend to like people she didn't. It's called standing up for your beliefs.

It was a Friday afternoon when she got the letter. It was a cold day and there was smoke everywhere.

She had gotten home from school, her clothes dirty from being pushed into the mud. London was a very muddy place. It seemed like mud had rained on the city.

So when Minerva looked up to her house, she was surprised to see a blindingly white owl sitting on her roof. It looked down at her with its beady eyes. It seemed to be saying "I'm watching you."

Minerva scowled at it with angry brown eyes. Scowling was her specialty; it could make the other children at school run away in fear.

Minerva was annoyed to see that the owl had not flown away but was yawning. "What do you want? How can you be so white? Everything is dirty here!" Minerva yelled at the owl. She wasn't really sure why she was yelling at the owl, maybe she was jealous that it was clean as a whistle while she was covered in mud.

She glared at it one last time before running inside. The doorbell was fairly old and made a horrible clanging sound. Minerva didn't mind, her mother hated it and Minerva just about hated her mother. It seemed like a fairly good thing to annoy her with. "Minerva will you stop ringing that infernal bell!" Minerva's mother's voice rang out, getting closer until the door opened.

"There's a letter for you. I didn't open it, it looks weird," Minerva's mother said in an arrogant way. Minerva's mother, Agnes, was a proud woman. She showed little love and treated Minerva as an acquaintance rather than family. It stands to reason she wouldn't open anything weird looking, she might become weird herself.

Minerva picked the letter up off the table and looked at it. It was weird. She was surprised, when her mother said 'weird', it normally meant there was a tea stain on it or it was in some way colourful but this letter was what Minerva called weird. It had a crest of arms on the back in green and on the front was Minerva's address, down to the exact position of her bed. She opened it with shaky hands. What if someone was following her? She pulled out the thick piece of parchment and read.

Dear Minerva McGonagall,

As you are of muggle descent (i.e. you parents are not wizards), it is my duty to inform you that you are a witch. There, consider yourself informed. I imagine the idea is either a shock or ridiculous. If it seems like a ridiculous notion then let me assure you: THIS IS NO HOAX! You are indeed a witch and you have the ability to perform magic. I, Albus Dumbledore, will escort you to Diagon Alley where I will explain everything. Now, the real point of this letter is to tell you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I will meet you at your house at eleven o'clock tomorrow morning. Good day,

Albus Dumbledore, Deputy Headmaster.

To say Minerva was surprised would be an understatement. She was astonished but soon after the initial shock she was distressed. She dropped the letter and ran to her room, tears streaming down her face. How could anyone play a joke so cruel?

A/N: Tell me if it's worth continuing please. I think I may have gotten her age wrong. If you think it's alright I'll continue. Cheers, Diana.