1 April 1951
Minerva walked down the corridors alongside Leo Davis the Head Boy, her Head Girl badge pinned to her chest.
"McGonagall," someone shouted, "Minerva wait!"
Minerva turned around to see the Gryffindor Quidditch Team Captain running up to her. Once he reached her, panting and clutching his chest, he put his free hand on her shoulder for support. "Minerva," he repeated, he gulped in the air deeply before continuing, "for the match today—we—we aren't playing against Ravenclaw but Slytherin instead… I—I just found out," he said breathing heavily.
Minerva frowned. "What do you mean we're playing Slytherin?"
"I mean we are playing again Slytherin," said Michael, slowly regaining his breath. "Professor Slughorn just told me."
"But the match is in less than an hour!" said Minerva, her temper rising. "Does he really expect us to get ready to play a completely different team in under an hour?"
"I know, I know…" Michael said, shaking his head, "But there's nothing we can do about it now." Seeing the still furious look on Minerva's face he continued. "Look, have some lunch, get ready and then meet me in the changing rooms as quickly as you can. Ten—fifteen minutes if you can make it. If you see any more of the team ask them to do the same. I need to make some new plans now and we'll discuss it as a team before the match," he finished, already starting to walk backwards. "Don't worry about it Minerva, we have one of the best teams and you've all been flying really well lately. Just eat quickly and meet me down on the pitch soon okay?"
Minerva nodded weakly but did not move. Leo still standing in the corridor beside her, looked unsure about whether he should have left or stayed.
"I can finish patrolling this corridor," he said. "If you want to get some lunch, now."
Minerva turned to look at him. "Are you sure?"
He smiled. "'Course," he insisted. "I want Gryffindor to win the cup just as much as you do."
Minerva smiled gratefully. "Thank you," she said sincerely.
He nodded and Minerva turned to go to the Great Hall. As she arrived, she briefly glanced at her watch and noticed that she only had 5 minutes left to eat and find a broom. She made an impatient sound as she rushed through the doors of the Great Hall and quickly found a seat at the Gryffindor table.
"Minerva slow down or you'll choke" cried Augusta as she watched her friend pile her plate with carrots and Shepard's pie a harried expression on her face. "What's happened?"
"No time to explain," said Minerva through rapid mouthfuls.
Augusta gave a concerned look at her boyfriend Albert who shrugged and shook his head. Hesitantly, Augusta picked up her copy of the Daily Prophet stealing a glance at Minerva every now and then.
It was only for another two minutes that Minerva was at the table before she abruptly stood up again and ran back down through the doors of the Great Hall. Her haste was so great that she didn't see Headmaster Dippet rounding the corner.
"Careful now McGonagall," called the Headmaster as Minerva dodged him mumbling her apologies as she ran.
Finally, she skidded to a halt outside the changing rooms and walked inside panting slightly. Nearly the whole team were gathered around the whiteboard where Michael had written the new plan and new tactics. Hurriedly Minerva found a seat and sat down with the rest of them, waiting for the other team members to arrive.
The sound of the crowd was deafening as the Gryffindor team walked out onto the pitch. Minerva walked with the rest of her team a school broom clutched in her hand.
The Slytherin team could be seen walking over from the opposite end of the pitch, arrogant smirks smeared across their faces. Minerva's fingers tightened around her broom. Breathing hard, the only thought she had in mind was to wipe their smiles off their faces by beating them in this match.
"Mount your broom!" yelled the referee after the two captains had shaken hands.
Minerva mounted her broom and when the whistle went, pushed her feet off the ground. Eyeing Michael, the second chaser, she zoomed towards the airborne Quaffle dodging some Bludgers as she went. Together they both pelted towards the goalposts passing the Quaffle to each other whenever a Slytherin got too close.
"And Minerva McGonagall has the Quaffle which she then passes to Michael Hornby who tries to shoot but is stopped by the Slytherin Keeper, Lena McLorny," shouted the commentator.
Minerva paid little attention to what they were saying, her mind entirely focused on the match; particularly the Slytherin chaser who had just taken the Quaffle. Narrowly dodging another Bludger she dove downwards heading straight for the Quaffle wedged in the Slytherin's arm. Clearly sensing Minerva's presence, the Slytherin tried to pass the Quaffle to their partner however Minerva was too quick. In one fluid movement, she seized the Quaffle and drew up from her dive.
Wind whistling through her ears, Minerva felt her hair flap wildly across her face as she sped towards the goalposts.
"And Gryffindor SCORES – " but the rest of the commentator's words were drowned by the roaring of the crowd.
Minerva grinned as she continued to dash from one end of the pitch to the other, Gryffindor scoring more and more points.
"Gryffindor 70 – Slytherin 20."
Minerva looked at Michael who gave her the thumbs up. Quickly she turned to face him ready to catch the Quaffle when suddenly the whistle blew and it was shouted from the stands that Alexander Moore the Gryffindor Seeker had caught the snitch.
Beaming Minerva whirled around to meet the rest of the team when suddenly a Bludger collided directly into her side. A huge gasp of horror erupted throughout the stadium as Minerva felt her vision cloud with black and yellow spots before she slid off her broom.
"Minerva, are you ok? Minerva, please wake up!" pleaded a voice.
"Malcolm?" she muttered and gingerly she opened her eyes to see both of her brothers standing next to her. She blinked again and saw the rest of her teammates gathered around the other half of her bed.
"I—what are you all doing here?" she asked, her voice raspy and painful in her throat.
"Well seeing as you nearly died on the pitch we thought it might be kind to see if you were all right," said Michael, smirking slightly.
"We also thought that you might like to see this," said Alexander Moore. As he spoke the team broke apart to reveal a huge silver cup.
"We won!" said Minerva, weakly.
"Yes, we—"
But Michael was interrupted by the Hogwarts matron, Elizabeth, who had bustled through with several potions clutched in her hands.
"Everybody out! McGonagall has just broken 3 ribs and cracked her skull! She needs peace, quiet and bed rest!" the matron exclaimed shoving the team, Robert and Malcolm out of the room.
"We'll come back Minerva!" shouted Robert from across the room.
"Yes don't worry!" yelled Malcolm who waved at her before disappearing behind the large oak doors.
Minerva chuckled however, she stopped quite abruptly due to the pain in her chest.
"Drink this," chided the matron, however her face creased into a more kindly expression.
Minerva did as she was told and, after setting down the empty potion bottles, she lay back down in the bed and closed her eyes.