Authors Note: Please bear with me. This is my first story, and I know it is a short chapter, but I'm very tired.
Professor McGonagall stood outside the banquet hall, awaiting the arrival of the first years. How many years had she done this, she thought? Every year, she awaited the first years here at the door, watching them approach, their eyes alight with wonder and amazement. And every year she put on her sternest face, intended to make her appear unapproachable. This year, however, she felt, would be a little different. This year, she would get that which she had been waiting for. This year, brought eleven years of wondering, eleven years of anxiousness, to an end. This year, brought Harry Potter.
Professor McGonagall could hardly contain her excitement. The sweet baby boy she had watched Dumbledore lay on the porch of Number 4 Privet Drive, with nothing but a letter and a scar on his forehead, was here. She had often wondered how he would look after all these years. Would he have his father's appearance, his mother's hair? Would he have inherited James's cocky arrogance, or Lily's sweet disposition?
Lily. James. They had been a welcome relief from the monotony that sometimes accompanied teaching. Children fell in love all the time at Hogwarts, but rarely did she get to see something so fantastic, so utterly brilliant that it outshone everyone else. Theirs had been a love not seen everyday, something so powerful, you could feel the aura around them. She had watched Lily grow from an unsure, shy girl, to a confident, brave woman. And when Harry had been born, and McGonagall had seen how happy they were, she had felt content. She felt that if something that beautiful could come about, the world might not be so lost after all. Then, a dark cloud was cast over them all, and McGonagall shuddered at the memory. You-Know-Who had destroyed their beauty, and left nothing but a small scar as a memory. Ah well, that was all in the past. Now was a time to look to the future.
She saw the beginnings of tiny heads coming over the stairwell, and Professor McGonagall had to stop herself from craning her neck to see Harry. She drummed her nails slowly on the banister, slowly sliding her hand along it as she walked to the head of the stairs. Seeing the first head, she knew immediately who it was. Sleek, blonde hair, and a nose stuck so high in the air, she knew it had to be a Malfoy. He was walking with a sharp arrogance that came from knowing one's place. So odd to see in a boy so young. She quickly moved on, and then caught sight of what she had been waiting for. Harry Potter.
McGonagall felt as if she was looking at a ghost. A perfect replica of his father, complete with black spectacles and messy black hair. Harry reached and tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear, revealing his scar. Ah..not a perfect replica then. As Harry approached, he stopped in front of McGonagall, giving her a look of awe, and maybe some fear. His eyes. Exactly like his mothers. He was a perfect combination of James and Lily. Just as she had hoped.
Turning to the first years, she explained to them what to do, and as she led them into the Great Hall, she heard a small voice speak. "Its bewitched to look like the night sky. I read it in Hogwarts, A History." McGonagall inwardly chucked at the students awe of the ceiling, althoughshe had never heard of a first year reading the textbooks before the start of term. This was going to be a good year, she thought. A very good year. Stiffining her spine, she proceeded ahead, straight to an old and very raggedy hat.
Their first year had been a flurry of rule breaking and point winning. McGonagall had been thrilled when Hermione Granger had been accepted into her house, and even more excited when she had become friends with Harry, because, as wonderful a boy as he was, he could use a bit of intelligence now and then. Hermione was her best student, and she had a deep respect for the girl. Professor McGonagall couldn't even imagine the trouble Harry and Ron would have gotten into without her there.
The next year, the "Trio" as she was beginning to think of them, were constantly in trouble. She had known a moment of complete panic when she had found out Harry had gone into the Chamber of Secrets, and when he came out, she had to contain herself from hugging the boy. When he had finally woken up, he had a wisdom in his eyes, and a hardening in his jaw,that only came from being faced with death. As soon as Ron and Hermioneentered the room,only havinghugs and smiles for him,he brightened up considerably, and as McGonagall left the room, shecould hearthem talking animatedly.
It was around this time, that Professor McGonagall started noticingRons interest in Hermione. He seemed veryakward around her, always fumbling over himself whenshe was around. Hermione seemedthe same way.She was alwaysvery open withHarry, hugging him and holding his handconstantly. With Ron, however, she seemed hesitant, and didn't express the same open warmth to him thatshe did to Harry, and McGonagall felt afleetingfeeling of disappointment.
In the following years, the Trio had grown closer, and they did everything together. Ron continued his akwardness around Hermione, and McGonagall could sense their growing awareness of each other. As Hermione grew into a woman, Ron began expressing moments of jealousy, and hurt. They fought constantly, a result, she felt, of Ron being unable to appreciate a mind like the one Hermione possessed. Harry seemed a distant sideliner, having more than enough troubles to deal with.
He grew into a man far before his time, and McGonagall sensed a sadness in him, and as the Trio entered their fourth year, she felt he had troubles ahead of himhecould nevereven imagine.The fourth year brought the Triwizard Tournament, and Rita Skeeter, bringing along with her, the first mention of what could be between Harry and Hermione.