If you recognize it, I don't own it. :(


Of Toads and Brooms

Professor Dumbledore was not at the staff table the next morning, and Minerva had a sneaking suspicion that this was due to the newspaper article he had taken from Jeff the night before. When she asked Professor Merrythought before Defence Against the Dark Arts, the witch frowned and said, 'I'm sure it's none of your business what Professor Dumbledore leaves the school for, Miss McGonagall – he's a very busy man, and if he goes to the Ministry for a day, it's surely for some good reason that you should nevertheless not concern yourself with.'

But when Professor Dumbledore returned the next day, Minerva could not help but overhear him talking to Professor Slughorn the next day outside the staffroom.

'Most likely under the Imperius Curse; the article said he was rather reluctant to make the decision, but his son joined Hitler's cause too, I wouldn't be surprised if they both were Imperiused at some point or another,' Dumbledore was saying solemnly, the usual twinkle completely gone from his eyes. 'Hitler has appointed himself Führer und Reichkanzler of Germany now, and I have no doubt that more trouble lies ahead, especially when one considers the incident that led to the Japanese invasion of Manchuria…' He stopped when he spotted Minerva. 'What are you doing, Miss McGonagall?'

'Just writing down my Potions homework in my planner,' said Minerva innocently.

'How very organized of you!' chortled Slughorn, beaming at her. 'I always have said that the best kind of student is an organized student, and Minerva here certainly proves that point! By the way,' he added, winking, 'will you be coming to the Slug Club's next little get-together?'

Minerva could have sworn she saw Dumbledore's face tighten in displeasure for a moment, and she wondered if he knew how awkward the Slug Club made things between friends. 'Erm, sorry, Professor, but I told my friends I'd work with them on Charms homework, we have a rather long essay to finish,' she mumbled, improvising.

Slughorn gave an understanding smile and said, 'Oh, but surely you'll be able to drop in for a bit…?'

'I'll… I'll do my best to come by, as long as my friends are all right with their homework first,' sighed Minerva. As she turned to leave, she could have sworn that Professor Dumbledore gave her the slightest wink.

For fear that Slughorn would realise that Minerva was deliberately avoiding his parties (and Jeff too), she took it upon herself to organise the Charms study session that she had invented as an excuse. 'Goodness knows, I'll need it,' sighed Augusta, who was still doing abysmally in Charms. And so after dinner, the two heaved their school bags over their shoulders and marched down to the Library.

Pomona was waiting at a table, reading her Astrology textbook with a worried look on her face. She looked up and smiled when Minerva and Augusta sat down. 'Thank goodness you're here – I don't understand any of this!' she whispered.

'I'll help you with Astrology as long as you help me with Herbology,' said Minerva, 'and we'll both help Augusta with Charms – fair enough?'

'Hem, hem.'

All three girls turned around to find a plump little girl with a velvet bow in her hair and a smug expression on her face standing behind them. Minerva frowned slightly – she recognised the girl as a Slytherin from her Potions class, and was rather suspicious of the sickly sweet way she talked to everyone, as if she was trying to cover a foul odour with far too much perfume.

'Hello,' the girl simpered in a high-pitched, girlish voice. 'My name is Dolores Jane Umbridge. I don't think we've met?'

'Minerva McGonagall,' replied Minerva, deciding that a little courtesy couldn't hurt since she could be completely wrong about the girl (although she doubted it). Although Pomona and Augusta both introduced themselves as well, the squat Slytherin girl did not even spare a glance for them – Minerva was unpleasantly reminded of Slughorn's way of making everyone but his Slug Club students feel invisible.

'Splendid,' said Umbridge with a smile that more resembled a frog about to eat a fly. 'Now, I know I'm not in your Transfiguration class, Minerva (you don't mind if I call you Minerva, do you, now that we're friends?) but everyone says that you're the best student in the year.'

'Do they?' said Minerva roughly, not liking at all where this conversation appeared to be going.

'Oh, yes, even Dumbledore is highly impressed… oh, I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore.' She gave a revolting little giggle. 'Well, as I was saying, everyone says you're quite good at Transfiguration, and I seem to have a slight problem in that I haven't finished my Transfiguration essay.'

'Oh?' Minerva raised an eyebrow. 'Then perhaps you'd like to come study with us?' She was very much hoping that the girl would say no, as her refusal to acknowledge Augusta and Pomona was not making the tense atmosphere any better.

The girl's smile widened. 'I don't think you're quite understanding the situation, Minerva,' she said sweetly. 'You see, I asked you with the intention of not having to do any work myself tonight.'

Minerva stared at her. 'So you want me to do your homework for you, is that it?' she said finally, disgusted.

'Why, yes, I suppose you could put it that way if you really wanted to…'

'No.'

Umbridge looked as though she had been slapped in the face. 'Excuse me?' she said, her voice losing some of its girlish giggle immediately.

'I'm sorry, Umbridge, but I wouldn't let even my closest friends copy my work, and that's my final word. Besides, do you really think that Professor Dumbledore wouldn't realise that I had done the work for you?' Minerva watched in satisfaction as the girl mouthed in wordless anger, the bow in her mousy hair shuddering. 'You have my answer, so if that's all, my friends and I have some homework to finish.'

Umbridge leaned forward, her simpering smile suddenly replaced by a very ugly look. 'Just you wait, Minerva McGonagall,' she whispered. 'My father's a friend of the Minister of Magic, and when I tell him that you bullied me…'

'Bullied you?' Minerva raised an eyebrow. 'Isn't that just a little bit hypocritical? And what's your father going to do, ask the Minister to have me expelled for following the rules? Faulty logic, there…' Augusta and Pomona laughed.

'You'll regret this day, McGonagall,' hissed Umbridge, pointing at Minerva and shaking in rage. 'One day I will make you regret that you ever refused to do what Dolores Umbridge told you to do!' And turning on her heel, she stalked out of the Library, nose in the air.

'All right, then,' said Augusta airily, pulling out her books and her wand. 'Do you think if I aimed carefully enough, I could hit her with a hex from here…?'

'Oh, don't even bother worrying about her,' snorted Pomona, 'I wouldn't say she's worth it. One of those power-hungry people who, fortunately enough, is about as bright as a Confunded goldfish, in my opinion.'

'I take it you meant it about not letting us copy your work?' asked Augusta cautiously. Minerva shot her an intimidating glare.

'Every word,' she said. Augusta scowled. 'Oh, come on, how else are you going to learn the material?'

'Your train of logic is infuriatingly clear, Minerva,' grumbled Augusta, flipping open her Charms book.

It was almost nine o'clock at night when the girls finally finished studying, each feeling somewhat more confident with her area of trouble. As Minerva hurried back up to Gryffindor Tower, she thought she heard something coming from the Transfiguration classroom. Telling Augusta that she would catch up with her in a minute, Minerva doubled back and crept down the corridor.

The door to the classroom was slightly ajar, and, practically holding her breath so as to be absolutely silent, Minerva leaned her eye up to the slit of light. Jeff was seated inside with a look of relaxed concentration on his face, his eyes bright and filled with life and energy as the reverberating cello sang at his touch. After weeks of animosity from the boy she had thought would be her friend, Minerva found it startling to see him so at ease. She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall next to the door, listening for a moment to the rich beauty of the music; then, feeling suddenly very awkward, as if she was overhearing a private conversation, she ran as quietly as she could down the corridor and back up the stairs.


The rest of Minerva's first year passed by without event. Meeting Augusta and Pomona in the Library after dinner to study became a nightly routine, though the three witches were soon in the habit of talking more than studying when they met in the evenings. More than once they were thrown out of the Library for too much giggling – Minerva was once even threatened with detention by the testy old librarian, Madam Creese, when she burst out laughing at a story Pomona had just told and could not stop. And, although Slughorn never stopped asking Minerva to attend his Slug Club parties, she always managed to find some excuse not to go – the thought of an elitist club to which her friends were not invited made her nostrils flare with anger.

To her great annoyance, Dolores Jane Umbridge had also made it a point of leeching onto Minerva, talking to her as though they were best friends whenever they were around other people while meanwhile shooting her looks of evil satisfaction. Potions became a nightmare between Slughorn's constant invitations to Slug Club parties and Umbridge's insistence on staying within a three-foot diameter of Minerva through the whole class – Minerva suspected that Umbridge was acting this way not only to pay Minerva back, but also to try to get Slughorn's attention so she could join the Slug Club and meet the rich and famous that Slughorn knew.

Before she knew it, Minerva was back on the train home for the summer holidays. Leaning against the window as Pomona and Augusta traded Chocolate Frog cards, she caught a last glimpse of Hogwarts Castle before the train turned a corner and the view was obscured by a cloud of billowing smoke.

'I still can't believe I passed my Charms exam,' Augusta was saying when Minerva turned around to see what she had missed while looking out the window. 'It's all thanks to you, Minerva.'

'And Pomona, too,' added Minerva, but Pomona shook her head.

'Come on, Minerva, you know I'm not nearly as good at Charms as you,' she said candidly. 'Half the time when you were correcting Augusta, I realised that I had been doing the wand motion completely wrong.'

'Yes, well, I certainly would have failed Herbology without you,' sighed Minerva.

'Well,' snorted Augusta, 'I'm sure your Transfiguration scores would have more than made up for it – what did you get, 110 percent?'

Minerva blushed slightly in embarrassment – Professor Dumbledore had actually given her 120. Fortunately, neither of her friends noticed.

'Remember when we first met on this train, back at the start of the year?' sighed Pomona nostalgically.

'And Jeff was toting around that ridiculous cello…' Augusta stopped short. 'Sorry,' she muttered.

'What?' said Minerva.

'Just… well…'

'If it's about Jeff, I'm perfectly fine with you talking about him – it's obvious he's never going to speak to me again, so I've decided that I'll play his game and ignore his existence as well. In fact, I probably should have taken this attitude when he first started, except that I was foolish enough to hope for forgiveness for something I didn't even do.'

'Well, you might earn it yet, I think he's done being hurt that you've beaten him in every subject, except Herbology, of course,' said Pomona. 'By now, my guess is it's just a matter of pride – he doesn't want to have to come and apologise to you, not after he's spent so much time and energy being angry with you. I think he's hoping you'll approach him first.'

'Fat chance of that,' Minerva sniffed, trying not to feel too superior. She knew that she had scored above everyone else in Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts, but she also knew that she and Jeff were about even in every other subject, especially Potions (which Jeff was exceptionally good at), and she was certainly not about to go talk to him after he had been so rude to her for the entire year.

'So,' said Pomona after a long and somewhat awkward silence, 'are you still planning to try out for the Quidditch team next year, Minerva?'

Minerva leaned back in her seat and felt a genuine grin spread across her face. 'Oh, yes, if I can convince my mother to buy me a broom, that is – that'll be the hardest part.'

'I don't see how you can do it,' said Augusta with a shudder, 'it's so scary being way up there… if I ever have children, or even grandchildren, I won't let them anywhere near brooms for a long while…'

But Minerva was already reliving her first time on a broom. The Gryffindor first years had been joined by the Slytherins for their first lessons, and she had had to endure Abraxas Malfoy's boasts about how well he flew back at home on his expensive broomstick all the way down to the lawns. Although she had felt a little nervous, the second the broom had leapt into her hand at the command of 'UP!' she had felt a sudden urge to do something reckless, something dangerous – and when she kicked off into the air a moment later, the wind streaming through her hair and the people still on the ground shrinking into ant-sized specks, she felt something rise up within her, a sort of freedom that she had never felt before. With a whoop of delight, she had even dared a somersault in the air before zooming downwards at breakneck speed to race a bewildered Abraxas Malfoy back to the ground, and, to even her own surprise, winning.

'You've honestly never flown before?' Augusta had croaked weakly as Minerva slid off her broom, panting slightly in exhilaration. 'My brother Algie has been flying all his life, and I've never seen him do stuff so reckless before in the air.'

Minerva had just shrugged and laughed, feeling for all the world like she had just broken out of a prison she had never known she lived in.


And so, after many good-byes on the platform at Kings Cross Station and a rather uncomfortable side-by-side Apparition back home, Minerva cautiously broached the subject with her parents.

'Dad?' she said after dinner her first night home, as her father sat by the fire reading the Daily Prophet with his glasses perched on the end of his bony nose. Aeneas McGonagall glanced up at his only child, sighed, and folded the paper.

'Yes, Minerva?' he said patiently in his deep voice. He could tell something was bothering his daughter by the way she was gnawing on her lower lip.

'Well…' Minerva thought carefully – she knew that her father would be more inclined to give her a broom than her mother ever would, but she still knew she would have to tread cautiously. 'I've already told you about my two best friends at Hogwarts, but, you know, I really would like to get the chance to meet more people, and I was thinking a good way to do so would be to…' She sighed, and threw caution to the winds. 'Look, Dad, we had a few flying lessons, and I really like it. And, I'll try not to boast, but I'm really good at it, even the stuck-up Slytherins didn't have anything to say after they saw me fly for the first time. So I want to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.'

There. She had said it. Minerva folded her arms stubbornly across her chest and waited for her father's verdict.

Aeneas sighed and ran his hand through his thick black hair. Placing the newspaper on the table beside his armchair, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and placing his hands together with just the fingertips touching.

'So,' he said after a long moment, glancing at his daughter, 'I suppose that means we'll have to get you a broom.' It was not a question. Minerva beamed and threw herself into her father's arms, laughing.

'What is going on?' Alexia McGonagall, Minerva's mother, had just appeared at the door, her arms akimbo and a very severe expression on her face.

'Minerva's going to try out for the Quidditch team,' said Aeneas, standing up and looking his wife straight in the eye. 'And I've just agreed to get her a broom.'

Alexia's jaw dropped slightly. 'She most certainly is not going to try out for the Quidditch team!' she said angrily, walking around her husband and placing one hand firmly on Minerva's shoulder. 'What happens if she gets hurt? What happens if practice and games bring her grades down?'

'Alexia, she got 120 percent on her Transfiguration exam,' sighed Aeneas. 'Transfiguration, which is probably the most difficult subject in the entire magical realm… and not only that, but do you know who her teacher was? Albus Dumbledore. Now there, if the greatest genius of our time thinks our girl is good enough at magic to get 120 percent on his exam, she must be doing all right studies-wise. So I honestly think…'

'No,' said Alexia again, glaring sternly at her husband and steering Minerva out of the room.

Despite her mother's obvious opposition, Minerva's father went out to Diagon Alley and got her a brand new Silver Arrow broomstick the next day. The two spent most of the summer up in the air, Aeneas coaching his daughter through the finer aspects of Chasing and tossing a Quaffle around for her to catch.

'You know, I really don't see why your mother never wanted you to play before, you do have quite a knack for the game,' said Aeneas proudly one day as they made their way on foot back to the manor.

Minerva only shrugged. 'Let's just hope I'm good enough,' she said realistically, adjusting her broomstick on her shoulder.

Aeneas put a hand on Minerva's shoulder to stop her and knelt down so that his face was level with hers. 'Now, listen here, lassie,' he said, his dark eyes warm but serious. 'If you put your heart into this and work as hard at it as you do everything else, I know you'll be able to make the team. And if you don't, you don't, and there's always next year. That's just the way things work out sometimes.' He smiled and kissed her lovingly on the forehead. 'Just make sure you keep your studies up too,' he added as he rose to his feet and they continued walking. 'Your mother will have my head if your grades drop because of Quidditch…'


Well, I hope you like it. I imagine Minerva's father to be a sort of Atticus Finch-like character, though I'm not quite sure I captured that, and her mother to be much more strict, and, well, Minerva-like. At any rate, please tell me what you think. :)