Hello everyone!
I am still pretty new here, so I'm not familiar with the process of uploading stories, and this is also my first story ever to be written in English (which is not my first language as you may have realised by now). So please be kind and forgive me (or correct me, so that I won't make the same ones again) any major mistakes.
Other than that, you may already have figured out that I am not J. K. Rowling, meaning that I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters mentioned in this story published on a website called fanfic, which, I guess, is self-explanatory.
Anyways, have fun reading and tell me what you think of the story ;)
"Me, breaking the rules?", Minerva exclaimed heatedly. Then she added: „It is your bloody team that will be riding Nimbus 2001 only, won't it?"
"So?", Severus said in return, the usual sneer on his face. "May I remind you that it was you who broke-" "Bended!", she interjected. "No, broke the rules not once but twice last year by getting that Potter-brat onto your team?"
It was well known to all who were familiar with the fact that Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape were the Heads of the ever-rivalling Houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin that, whenever a Quittich game between the teams of aforementioned Houses was to take place, both professors became positively unbearable when they were in the same room. The school year of 1992/93 had started out no different from the previous ones: Weeks before the match, which was scheduled for Saturday, 7th of November, their arguments had become increasingly passionate each day. So naturally, two days before the match, they were at their worst.
Everyone who happened to be as unlucky as to find themselves trapped in the staff room during the morning break on that particular day was careful not to make a single sound. Everyone but Pomona Sprout and Septima Vector, that is, who stood near the window whispering and enjoying the show. "He mentioned Potter!", Septima said under her breath, a huge grin on her face. "Now, this is getting really good."
Pomona agreed cheerfully, a fact that Minerva was not aware of for she drew a sharp breath. "Don't you dare bring Potter into this again!", she warned her colleague while fortifying her statement with the notorious McGonagall-glare, a piercing gaze that only few could hold.
Severus, however, simply declined to look away; he seemed far too satisfied when he noted that this annoyed, surprised her even. "Does he have a death-wish?", Pomona whispered somewhat impressed into the silence that followed.
After a staring-contest of about two minutes, during which either one refused to look away, an alarming smirk appeared on the Potion Master's pale lips. For some reason he conjured up a hair tie with which he forced his greasy hair into a strict bun. Has he gone mad?, Minerva asked herself rather confused. Before she had a chance to prevent it, Severus had snatched not only Minerva's treasured tartan scarf, but also her pointy hat; having put on both, his face took on a stern look.
What in Merlin's name…? Minerva couldn't think it out, for Severus announced snootily: "I am Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor, Transfiguration Professor and about the fairest person who ever walked this castle, nay, this planet, save any matter concerning my Quidditch team. In that particular case I will do everything in my power to make them win, rather unsuccessfully I may add, for we have been on a losing streak for six years!" Snape put on a pitiful look. "Last year, Ravenclaw has brought our worst defeat in centuries on us, and the year before Slytherin flattened us…"
The witch snorted. A few teachers couldn't stop themselves from giggling, but Minerva, who had crossed her arms while watching the Potion Master, shot them a glance that put them to quiet. Then she shook her head. "That was the worst imitation I have ever seen", the witch stated drily.
"The stage is yours", Severus simply said, his left eyebrow raised in a rather smug way. "Impress me."
Now Minerva was the one to grin maliciously. After bewitching her robes to billow while she was pacing around menacingly, she opened her hair and cast a spell on it to make it look greasy. With her most indifferent facial expression, she mimicked Severus' sneering voice: "My name is Severus, but you can call me Snape. I do not approve of inferior people calling me by my given name, especially students and Goldilocks" -thereby referring to Gilderoy Lockhart, the maddening Defence teacher- "who I hate almost as much as everything that has to do with a Potter", she spit out the last word as if it were something utterly disgusting, "but for the record, I don't like any of you very much, either."
Quite a few staff members looked at her in astonishment. "Well, that was rather uncanny", Septima stated and Pomona agreed with her. Meanwhile, Minerva stared triumphantly at Severus. For a short second he seemed pretty shirty, and the witch couldn't help but wonder whether she had only been imagining it when he immediately went back to smiling sardonically.
"Not bad", he commented, still grinning. "But something is missing…" Taking out his wand in a split second, he fired a wordless spell at her. Minerva, too surprised to dodge it, got hit right in the chest where a huge, bright green Slytherin emblem appeared, the silvery snake slowly winding and hissing.
"How dare you…!", the Transfiguration teacher ranted, followed by a load of heavy and very Scottish swearwords that made the other teachers either stare at her in disbelieve or blush in a deep shade of cherry pink; or both. Solely Snape was gloating, so Minerva furiously drew her wand and hexed him: Severus was now sporting a bulky lion's mane instead of his regular greasy hairstyle.
She was still cackling at the livid Snape who once again raised his wand when the big oak door burst open. Gilderoy Lockhart, commonly referred to as Goldilocks by his fellow teachers, chose that very moment to make his big entrance.
Clad in forget-me-not blue from tip to toe, he beamed all too brightly at them while his eyes were curiously scrutinising Minerva and Severus, both frozen in the motion of blasting new spells at each other. "What in Merlin's name is going on here?", he inquired sounding far too amused for Minerva's liking.
From the corner of her eye she saw Severus' wand-hand twitch, almost as if he considered accidently firing his spell at Goldilocks instead of her. Now this would have been fun, although it was already too late for a surprised reaction. After giving Severus a short, admiring glance that she regretted the very second he caught it, Minerva lowered her wand and turned away from both men.
"Fine, so it's a tie", the Deputy Headmistress murmured grudgingly while removing the snake from her robes. Then she turned to face her colleagues again, snapping: "What are you still doing here? Shouldn't you all be teaching by now?" In fact, classes had begun about two minutes ago.
"No need to treat us like students", Pomona nagged, though she was smiling as always. "Come on, Silvanus, let's get going!", she then called out to the ancient Care of Magical Creatures Professor, who was heading, like her, to the Hogwarts Grounds.
Snape, however, seemed to have decided not to make a fuss at all, and when Minerva saw the loathing glare he shot at Goldilocks, she knew just about why. "Fine, I was just leaving anyways", he stated icily. With a few steps, he had come over to where the Transfiguration Professor was standing, putting her pointy hat back on her head where it belonged.
"Next time I won't be so easy on you", he sneered quietly. "Bring it on", she answered, looking him right in the eye with a challenging smile on her lips. He smirked one short, last time at her before recomposing his face to his usual mask of annoyance. Then he turned around energetically, his robes billowing behind him, walking right past Goldilocks who still stood in the doorframe.
"What are you staring at? Shouldn't you be reading your books to third-years?", she shooed Prince Charming away. Minerva had never been particularly fond of that clown when he was grinning like a Cheshire cat at her from books and posters, but ever since she had had to deal with him on a personal level, left alone work with him, she positively despised the man with the golden locks.
From the irritated look he shot her, the elderly witch concluded that he didn't like her that much either, or at least that he didn't understand how any human being could not be delighted with his presence.
Nevertheless, he did as she had told him to, and slowly the staff room emptied out.
Minerva stayed in the teacher's lounge though, for she didn't have another class until after lunch and she was awfully glad of it; Thursdays were always somewhat tiring. This might have something to do with her first class that day being a Fourth form of both Gryffindor and Slytherin. Apart from the fact that it was never a particularly good idea to combine those two Houses, Fred and George Weasley happened to be in that class. Although they usually respected her much more than any other teacher, the upcoming Quidditch match had gotten them excited, too, and the had played a few pranks on the Slytherins. The worst thing, however, was that Minerva couldn't even hold a grudge, for she had behaved equally childish merely a few minutes ago. She let out a sigh. What a great role model she was…
"Are you quite alright?", Filius Flitwick, who was just on his way to his classroom, enquired with his squeaking voice, a gentle smile on his face. The Head of Gryffindor answer with a short nod. "Yes, yes, don't you worry about me." She then took a seat at her usual place on the big, wooden table and with a rare, little smile in her colleague's direction she took out the staple of Sixth form essays that she had intended to grade during her free period.
Twenty minutes later she gave up on that idea. Minerva had a very hard time concentrating; her thoughts kept trailing off and so she finally gave in to them. Still staring on Penelope Clearwater's parchment, she found herself pondering Severus Snape.
Ever since he had started working as a Potion Master twelve years ago, the two of them had been rivals and they did never miss out on a single occasion to display their mutual hatred. Only… they didn't really despise each other. She didn't, at least. Although Severus could be a real pain in the neck from time to time, she rather enjoyed their teasing and their arguments like the one they had before. Not that she would ever dream of admitting it.
The elderly witch also thought that he had a wicked sense of humour and although she had been rather sceptical on his behalf when he first started at Hogwarts, she had come to respect, nay, even like her… friend? Was that what he was? A friend?
Minerva couldn't have told how long she had been sitting there, thinking, but suddenly she was rudely awoken from her musings when the door behind her clunk shut. The witch turned her head to see who had entered the room, only to be greeted by the animated chattering of Charity Burbage, the Professor of Muggle Studies who must have dismissed her class rather early, and Aurora Sinistra who, according to her still rather sleepy look, had just woken up.
Sometimes she envied the Astronomy Professor, for she could sleep in practically every day. But then again… Was staying up all night, teaching, really worth those few hours of undisturbed sleep? "Morning, Minerva", Aurora greeted her with a warm smile. "Some student's waiting for you out there. Guess he wants to talk to you 'bout something."
"Then why didn't he simply knock on the door?", the Deputy Headmistress asked a little confused while getting up and gathering the essays.
The other two women sniggered. "Apparently, he did", Charity answered, chuckling. "You must have overheard him."
Minerva put on her sternest expression. "That's ridiculous", she stated drily, but walking to the door nevertheless. Truth be told, it wasn't all that unlikely, she really had been lost in her reverie, but she would certainly not confess that. Minerva McGonagall did not daydream.
"Excuse me, Professor?", a small voice squeaked once she stepped into the Great Hall. She lowered her eyes just to discover the mousy brown head of Colin Creevy, a tiny first year Gryffindor. When she saw the twinge of panic in his face, her expression grew softer immediately.
"Yes, how may I help you?", she asked in her most comforting voice. First years were always rather touchy, especially around this time of the year. They had never been away from their parents for so long, Christmas was not to far down the road and the youngest students were constantly on the verge of tears…
Creevy's eyes were still wide with fear facing the strict Professor, although he seemed to relax slightly. "Th-There is something like a… a fight going on a-and…" He swallowed, continuing so rapidly that she had trouble understanding him. "Courtyard… -easley 'nd -eek Slytherin… trouble… 's scared… -eir waaands out… nowhere! …ran to you."
"One of the Weasleys and a slick blonde Slytherin are making trouble, you were scared because they even had their wands out, there were no Prefects anywhere near so you came running to me?", Minerva repeated. After about 45 years of teaching, she had more or less learned to understand First-Year-ish. "Alright, I'm coming with you."
The boy who was running to keep up with her looked rather anxious again, but this time she didn't mind at all. Students fighting, in the courtyard, with their wands out! That was too much. Something like that was not to happen in her school, under her supervision. She would not tolerate suchlike behaviour.
Minerva gripped her wand tighter, which made her white knuckles stand out even more. White-hot fury must have been written all over her face, for every student she encountered made way for her or stood rooted to the ground with fear instead.
Still, she couldn't move as fast as she wanted to because by this time of the day, the halls were jam-packed with students on their way to the Great Hall where lunch would be served in a few minutes. It took her unnaturally long to arrive in the courtyard, but once she set foot on the grass, everything happen as quick as a flash.
"RONALD WEASLEY!", she heard herself roar at the youngest male member of the red-head clan at the top of her lungs. Though he stood with his back to her, he was easy to be recognised by his flaming ret hair and his gawky physique, clutching his wand clumsily while pointing it at...
"DRACO MALFOY!", another man bawled, his quavering voice much stronger than the Deputy Headmistress'. Severus glared at the 2nd year Slytherin who was paralysed by fear. Obviously, he must have provoked Weasley, not thinking the fool would actually take out his wand.
She saw the Head of Slytherin heading towards the students from the other side of the courtyard, beside himself with rage. Apparently, they had had the same idea: Much like herself, Snape gripped his wand tightly, pointed it at Ron and screamed: "Expelliarmus!" at the very same time Minerva did.
Weasley's broken wand, however, must have taken on a life of its own, for it didn't seem to obey his orders anymore. From both ends, it fired a strange purple beam of light at the attackers, hitting them both right in the chest.
Minerva was thrown back violently, landing in the greyish November grass. At first, she felt a sharp, stinging pain; then she was as light as air, not even feeling the burning sensation anymore. This didn't last for long, though, for shortly afterwards the weirdest feeling was flowing through her entire body, something between burning pain and a swirling sensation. Her head was spinning and she felt ten times worse than she had after the one and only time Albus had talked her into taking a ride on one of those Muggle death-machines. What had he called it? A Rollercoaster?
For about two seconds, she did not venture on getting up, for she was feeling far to nauseous and her head was pounding. Minerva did not want to fall back down again, not in front of the… students! Right, there was a fight going on!
She jumped up immediately with an agility that would make any other seventy-something years old go green with envy. How curious… Minerva felt as if she was bursting with energy all of a sudden. What kind of spell…? Never mind, there were more important matters to take care of first!
"RONALD WEASLEY!", she growled yet again, but all that she heard was the very same name shouted in Severus' voice, who must have spoken simultaneously. The odd thing was, however, that he was nowhere to be seen.
A crowd of students gazed at her, white-faced with anxiety. Said redhead stared at her, his eyes wide with terror. He looked more dreadful than all of the others combined. "I'm so sorry, Professor Snape! So very, very sorry!", he squeaked, his voice filled with fear.
"Snape?", she shot back. Had he lost his senses? …Or probably Severus had been standing right behind her all along, which would explain why she hadn't been able to see him before. Testing, Minerva turned her head, but all she saw were more frightened students.
When she faced Weasley again, a second emotion had spread over his face: Confusion. He blinked at her in bewilderment, as though she were the one who had gone mad. Looking at the other little faces, equally bemused, caused some really, really funny, no, bad misgivings of what was going on, making her feel nauseous yet again.
Nevertheless, Minerva desperately tried to suffocate that premonition. That couldn't possibly be true, she could not… "Are you quite alright, Professor Snape?", a Fourth year Hufflepuff girl enquired, eying Minerva curiously. This is impossible… I must have hit my head harder than I thought…!
Desperately, Minerva threw a glance at her wand-hand. In the faint November light, it looked much paler and rougher than usually… Quite frankly, it didn't look like her hand at all! More like a man's hand, half-hidden in a plain, black sleeve.
She opened her mouth, raised her glance to answer the Hufflepuff, but no sound came out. In that moment, Minerva saw a tall, dark-haired witch rise on the other side of the courtyard, holding her head as if she were in quite a lot of pain. When their eyes met, she stared back at her in disbelieve. The woman was no other than herself, Minerva McGonagall.
Now, as I said, this is my first story, so I'd be very happy if you told me what you think of it.
To be continued...
