Title: There Were No Regrets

Character: Minerva McGonagall

House: Ravenclaw

Name: lunalestrange4 or Jess

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing around with the characters.

A/N: For the Free As A Bird topic on Hogwarts Online II.

Eleven-year-old Minerva McGonagall hopped up the two steps to the Sorting Hat and sat down on the little stool as the professor, whose name she had not caught in the excitement and noise, set the Hat on her head. "Hmmm," it said to her. "You're a hard worker, certainly...but no, not Hufflepuff."

Minerva thought back, "You're a talking hat!"

"That I am. A good mind in you, certainly, perhaps Ravenclaw? But no, there's too much courage, too much determination to stand up for what you truly believe...I'm going to have to say GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat shouted the last word out into the hall for everyone to hear, and Minerva pulled the hat off her head, placing it back on the stool before walking off to the loudly cheering table full of Gryffindors. She slid into a seat at the end, next to the previous girl, who had also been Sorted into Gryffindor. She interestedly watched the rest of the Sorting and saw the various students each find a place at one of the four House tables.

It certainly seemed like she was going to enjoy this place.


Minerva enjoyed most of her classes (although with Professor Binns' that was nearly impossible) and became one of the better students, rising above the other Gryffindors. Her aptitude was for Transfiguration, something that the teacher, Professor Albus Dumbledore, quickly noticed. His class became her favorite, not only because she was talented at the subject but because she enjoyed having him as a teacher.

She wondered if, ever, she would get his job.


In her sixth year, there was a period of chaos and anxiety. A monster had been let loose from the Chamber of Secrets and was attacking students left and right, leaving them not dead but in a Petrified state that could only be fixed by Mandrakes. It was targeting Muggle-born students-obviously, then, it was doing the bidding of some blood purist student, which made most people's eyes go directly to the Slytherins, even more so than usual. The Chamber of Secrets was made by Salazar Slytherin himself.

The breaking point, Minerva could say, happened when a girl, Myrtle, died from the monster's attack. She was found in a bathroom-what a horrible place to die-and instantly, there was talk of closing the school. Everyone was horrified, by both the poor girl's death and the chance of not returning to Hogwarts.

It was soon after that the attacks stopped, and a third year, Rubeus Hagrid, was blamed and then expelled. A Slytherin prefect, Tom Riddle, had been the one to catch him. Minerva had always thought Riddle to be an odd sort, a little suspicious, and this only escalated what she thought, but she did not say anything, as nobody would ever believe her.


There had never been a more bittersweet moment in her life than her graduation from Hogwarts. On one hand, it was exciting to be leaving and to go out into the world, but on the other hand, she knew that she would miss the school so much. Like it had been for many students before, and like it would for many students after, Hogwarts had become like a home to Minerva. Not that her home life was bad, but that with so much time away, and more time spent at the school than with her family, it seemed as though the school was more of a home than her 'real' home.

She would miss it, but somewhere in her she knew that she would someday return.


Two years after her graduation she did return, and applied for the position of Transfiguration professor. It was Albus Dumbledore who trained her, and during this time, they became good friends. He was a mentor to Minerva, who was barely out of her teens, and she provided a fresh new outlook to him. He ascended to Headmaster of Hogwarts soon after, and she became the full-time Transfiguration professor, and their friendship continued.


She had never been so overworked as when the Marauders were at Hogwarts. The first time she saw the four boys-James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew-she thought of them just as four normal boys, probably going to get up to a bit of mischief as boys do. They soon proved that they were anything but normal. James was an expert Quidditch player, Sirius was the first Gryffindor in his family, Remus was a werewolf, and Peter, well, Peter was their fanboy, or so it seemed from the outside. On top of all this they had a rather annoying habit of constantly ending up in detention, and getting points deducted from Gryffindor.

There was a reason why Gryffindor lost the House Cup their first six years of schooling. It was only in their seventh year, when the Marauders, as they came to be known, straightened out a little, that Gryffindor scraped out a win (by two points, but who's counting?).


The Weasley twins weren't very different from the Marauders, it seemed, the only difference being that there were two twins and four Marauders. The twins managed to cause as much trouble as the Marauders had, despite their lesser numbers, but more than once during their time Gryffindor managed to win the House Cup (something that Slytherin head Severus Snape found extremely irritating) because of Harry Potter, who was two years below the troublesome Weasleys, Fred and George.

The fact that Harry Potter, the Savior of the Wizarding World, was Sorted into her house was a source of pride for Minerva, although she tried not to show it.


Minerva vaguely remembered Dolores Umbridge from when the latter had been a Hogwarts student, in the earlier years of Minerva's teaching. She had been a rather...unique child even then, and she had 'blossomed' (well, that certainly wasn't the right word, Minerva thought) into a plump, toadlike woman who had become instantly unpopular among everyone apart from the Slytherins, who liked her mainly because her views matched up with theirs.

Minerva found Dolores to be incredibly annoying, and didn't hesitate to show this.


Dumbledore's death the next year, and by Severus Snape no less, was one of the saddest points of Minerva's life. Dumbledore had been her friend and mentor for dozens of years, and now...now that was all gone. All because of Snape. Dumbledore had placed his trust in the greasy-haired Slytherin, and had ended up dead because of that.

Never trust a Slytherin, Minerva thought to herself.


Minerva McGonagall slowly ascended the steps heading up to the Headmaster's office. Formerly Dumbledore's office, she reminded herself, but never, ever, would she think of it as Severus Snape's office. The murderer of Dumbledore, now the Headmaster of Hogwarts...the thought was preposterous. How could a person like that even be allowed near children, if he could kill someone who had trusted him so closely? Who was to say he wouldn't do such a thing to the children? Who knew what would happen, under his rule?

She knew that this was all because of the ascension of You-Know-alright, Voldemort-who had somehow appointed Snape as Head. Such a thing wouldn't have happened otherwise. Why, if Snape had killed Dumbledore at any other time, he would be sent to Azkaban, without a trial, and that would be if some Dumbledore-loving vigilante didn't reach him first. At this time, though, people were too scared to do anything that might be construed as rebellious. These were dark times they were living in, that much was certain.

The office hadn't changed much since Dumbledore, although she supposed that Snape had neither the time nor the inclination to change it. The main difference was the portrait of Dumbledore that now hung on the wall. The portrait was, unfortunately, sleeping, much to her disappointment. Minerva would have loved to talk to Albus one more time. They had been good friends and close colleagues, and she had not even been able to see him before he had been killed. By, she thought sourly, the person sitting right in front of her.

"Why did you call me here?" Minerva said, getting right to the point. She did not want to make small talk with this man, this Death Eater.

"I needed to know if you were...staying. There are already two spots I must fill, and I must know if it will be three."

"Oh yes," Minerva said. "Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies. I heard the Muggle Studies teacher vanished rather mysteriously. In these times...I worry for Charity."

A flicker of something crossed Snape's face, but it was gone in an instant. "Those are indeed the spots I need to fill. I have some potential applicants lined up."

More Death Eaters like you? she wanted to ask, but decided that was going a little too far. It was quite likely that was who they were, though. "Well, I hope you realize I am staying, for the children more than anything else."

He nodded. "I figured that would be the case."

She went back down the stairs, head held high.


She was the one who caught Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood spray-painting a message on a long, empty stretch of wall two months later. All the teachers had been assigned to patrol nights, at some time or other, and she had the misfortune to catch them. Or perhaps, it wasn't so unfortunate.

Both students looked stunned to see her. "Sorry, Professor," Longbottom said, trying, and failing, to hide the paint behind his back. So far the message, which was made up of three-foot-high letters, said, 'Support Harry Pot-'. "We were, just, um..."

"Going back to your dormitories," she said. "You don't want to be caught out of bed by Snape or those idiot Carrows." She held out her hand for the paint. "I'll take that."

Both Longbottom and Miss Lovegood looked rather disappointed, but obeyed, both pressing their cans of paint, which seemed to be from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, into the professor's hands. She watched them go, and then, doing a quick sweep of the area, finished their message so it read Support Harry Potter. She tried to convince herself that it was simply because Support Harry Pot looked absolutely ridiculous, and would not have the desired effect, but she knew that she just wanted to do something to fight back against the Carrows, something that, for now, had to be left to these mere children (although the older students would object to being called such).

Smiling to herself, while on the outside keeping her normal stern demeanor, she tucked the bottles inside her pocket and continued her rounds.


It was somewhat-no, a total relief when Harry, Ron, and Hermione showed up in May. The school had become more and more chaotic with each passing month, with students like Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood not coming back after break, not to mention that more people seemed to join the rebel group known as the D.A. each time a teacher's back was turned. By May almost all the members of said group were hiding in the Room of Requirement to avoid the Carrows, while the rest of the students scurried around school like frightened rodents.

It was also a relief when Minerva was able to duel with Snape, even if it was short (the coward fled out a window! A window, for Merlin's sake!). It was nice to release all the pent-up frustration that had built over the past school year, growing and growing with each Cruciated or injured student. Although she had never seen Snape himself raise a wand to the students, he had been the one to authorize the Carrows to run amok, the one who had appointed them in charge of all punishments.

It certainly seemed to be true that revenge was sweet.


She stayed on at Hogwarts after the Final Battle, becoming the Headmistress almost directly after. She was honored to have the position, the same position that Dumbledore once had. There were times in which she missed teaching the students Transfiguration, but being in charge of the school was nearly as satisfying. Even some of the Slytherins found her to be a decent Head, and, when she announced her retirement at the end of one school year, as she was getting on in age, all the students sat solemnly, not a single cheer from any of them.

She considered that an accomplishment.


When she looked back at her life, she decided that, on the whole, there were no regrets.