Professor Tofty (13 mentions.)

Tofty was one of the professors who conducted the O.. in Harry's fifth year. When the aurors launched four stunning spells at Mcgonagall, causing her to collapse, Tofty forgot the examination and shouted in anger at such a disgraceful assault.

For the purposes of this story I'm pretending he (once) taught Charms at Hogwarts.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. (If I did I'd have already seen Deathly Hallows part 2!)


She was almost exotic. Seventeen, and crisply graduated, she wore her hair in a tight bun.
(Unlike her peers, and their glistening curls.)

She spent no time with makeup. (Rouge, eye-shadow, or lipstick.)

And she was often found riding around town on her broom, (right leg dangling inches of the ground,) with her nose stuffed in a heavy book. (Everyone swore: She was going to crash.)

It was her summer after Hogwarts, and she'd finally returned home.

Professor Tofty was 9 years her senior, and he shouldn't have noticed her. (Or liked her, or thought of her.) He lived next door, (The neighborly neighbor.) And as the summer progressed, he spent more and more time out of doors: An excuse to stop her on her way out.

"Good day!" he called.

(That was how their conversations usually began.)

"Professor?" She asked, (innocently.)

(She'd started wearing rouge-eyeshadow-lipstick. He'd noticed.)

"Minerva, How are you?" He asked kindly.

"I'm fine," She said, (rather formally,) "Thanks."

"How's the job search going?"

"Great, the job opportunities for a seventeen-year-old are never ending" Her eyes pierced him. "That was joke," She explained after a moments hesitation.

Tofty tilted his head back and laughed like a child, (far longer than he should have.)

"-Yes," He finally said, blinking back tears from his eyes. "Have you thought about an internship?"

Minerva stared bluntly at the man, her neighborly neighbor, (who laughed too hard, and smiled too much.)

He was a walking caricature, (but the handsomest man in her small, gaited town.)

"I suppose," Minerva said, a thought forming in her eyes. "I'm interested in becoming a professor. But I've had no luck, finding someone-"

(Someone who noticed her, or liked her, or thought of her.)

"Oho! I'm a professor." He said. (Her breath caught.)

Really now?

That year she helped him teach Charms. (She preferred Transfiguration.)

Years later, as she collapsed, he remembered her;

(Letting her hair down.)

She grew up fast.


I like unicorns, do you like unicorns?