CHAPTER THREE: THE TERM BEGINS
Two weeks passed, and it was now September first, the start of the term. Minerva McGonagall thought she was going to explode with excitement as she made her way to the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. She had seen seven Sorting Ceremonies in her seven years at Hogwarts, but never from the perspective of a teacher. She wondered what it would be like, seeing the new first-years get sorted and then teaching them magic for the next seven years of their lives. She also wondered how many would get sorted into Gryffindor, her old house. No matter what the outcome was, though, it was sure to be exciting.
"Minerva? Minerva McGonagall?"
She stopped walking. That voice... it was so familiar... Minerva turned around, and saw short, slender, blonde girl about the age of seventeen walking toward her. The girl wore the robes of Gryffindor house, and also a badge with the letters HG on it. She recognized Tracy Keller, who started her first year when Minerva was in her fifth. "Tracy Keller?" she said. "You're - you're Head Girl!"
Tracy smiled. "I sure am. What are you doing here? You graduated four years ago."
"Professor McGonagall," came a voice from behind, "is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor."
Tracy and Minerva turned around and saw Armando Dippet standing behind them with a warm, friendly smile on his face. "How do you do, Miss Keller? Did you have a pleasant summer holiday?"
"I'm fine, Professor Dippet, and it was wonderful, thank you," Tracy said, blushing slightly. It was always an honor to receive attention from the headmaster, and even more so since last year, when she and four other sixth-year girls were going through some old newspapers and found a picture of Dippet at a younger age. All five of them unanimously agreed that Dippet bore a striking resemblance to the American film star Humphrey Bogart.
Tracy turned her attention back to Minerva and said, "You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor? But your specialty was always Transfiguration!"
"Professor Dumbledore still teaches that," Minerva said. "I was asked to join the staff when Professor Mahler retired."
Tracy blinked and scratched her head. "Wow. This is just... well, amazing. You're only four years older than I am, and now you're my teacher. I'm blown away."
Dippet pointed out that they needed to get inside the Great Hall so the Sorting Ceremony could begin, and he and Minerva excused themselves. The befuddled Tracy, still in shock over the fact that her former schoolmate was now her teacher, stood just outside the entrance watching them. She couldn't help noticing how Dippet gently touched Minerva's arm as he led her up to the staff table.
"Hi, Tracy," said Nina Brackett, a seventh-year Ravenclaw who was a good friend of her's. "Hurry up, or you'll miss the Sorting Ceremony!"
"Hey, Nina," Tracy said as her friend tugged her into the Great Hall, "have you ever noticed how much Professor Dippet looks like Humphrey Bogart?"
A few minutes after all the other students were seated at their tables, Quinn Grindelwald led the forty or so new first-years into the Great Hall and gave them instructions. "When I call your name, come up here so I can put the hat on your head," he said. "It will decide which house you should belong in."
Some students looked a little nervous; several others looked slightly relieved.
Grindelwald unrolled the large scroll in his hand and read the first name. "Abraham, Bridget!"
A short girl with big blue eyes and blonde hair in a neat braid stepped up to Grindelwald and sat down on the three-legged stool next to him. He lowered the dirty, ragged hat onto her head. The hat spent a few seconds mumbling to itself, and then shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"
The Ravenclaws cheered as Grindelwald removed the hat and Bridget Abraham joined their numbers. Grindelwald called the next name on the list. "Avante, Warren!"
Warren Avante was a stocky boy of medium height who was sent to Slytherin.
"Baker, Emmitt!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Bennett, Leslie!"
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Aside from the nearly three minutes the hat spent contemplating where to send "Keys, Bobby!"before finally deciding on Ravenclaw, the Sorting Ceremony was more or less routine. It ended when "Zion, Bella!" was sent to Gryffindor, and Grindelwald took the hat and the stool away. Dippet then rose and gave out several instructions, including reminding the students that the forest was strictly off-limits. He then took a moment to introduce "our new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, Professor Minerva McGonagall." All the students applauded, and several seventh-year boys were whistling until a reprimanding look from Professor Dumbledore silenced them.
Grindelwald made his way back inside and took his seat at the staff table between Minerva and Dippet. On Dippet's other side sat Albus Dumbledore, who had been looking rather pleased with the ceremony up until the boys whistled.
"Excited about teaching, Professor?" Grindelwald asked.
It took Minerva a moment to realize that he was talking to her, but when she did, nodded and said, "Yes, very much. Any students I should look out for?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't have a lot of problems with behavior."
She smiled. "I'm not surprised." Most of the students in her year had been terrified of Grindelwald. She had been a little scared of him, too, but it was more out of admiration than fear. She, along with a few others, knew Grindelwald was far more powerful than he let on.
"What group do you have first?" the deputy headmaster inquired. When Minerva gave him a mildly surprised look, he explained, "I'm making conversation. You know, I ask you a question, you respond, I make a comment about your response, and then you make a comment about a comment in my response, and so on and so forth."
She was bordering on laughter as she answered his question. "The third-year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs."
"Interesting," Grindelwald said thoughtfully. "I have that same group after your class. I'm sure they'll just be bursting with stories to tell about their first day of Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor McGonagall."
Minerva grinned and said, "We'll find out."
Grindelwald's prediction was partly correct. The students were indeed bursting with stories to tell about their first day of Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor McGonagall, but they seemed to be more interested in their teacher than the subject, as he realized by their conversations as they filed into his room for the Charms lesson...
"She's so young."
"She's hot!"
"Shut up, Lyle."
"Can you believe they actually hired a teacher that young?"
"Hey, Conan, didn't your brother say she was Head Girl his first year?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Who was Head Boy?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"I'm just curious."
"Some wacko named Alastor Moody. Rory said he was paranoid."
"I guess history repeats itself. Professor McGonagall and Alastor Moody sound a lot like the Head Boy and Girl we have now."
"Barty Crouch isn't paranoid."
"Ha! You don't sleep in the same tower as him."
"Shut up, Lyle."
"Hey, does anyone know if it's true if she's an Animagus?"
"Of course it's true."
"How do you know?"
"My sister has Transfiguration first, and I saw her on the way over here. She said Professor Dumbledore told them Professor McGonagall is an Animagus."
"How would he know?"
"I'm sure she probably told him. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he helped her train to become one."
"Bet you didn't know Dumbledore's sweet on her."
"Shut up, Lyle."
"No, I'm serious! He is!"
"Who told you that?"
"Peeves."
"You mean you actually believe Peeves? Lyle, have you been getting enough sleep?"
"No, I haven't; Barty Crouch's paranoia keeps me up all night."
"Peeves was probably making it up."
"Probably, but you have to admit, he did spend a lot of time looking in her direction at the feast last night."
"Puh-lease. He was turning so he could talk to Professor Dippet."
"You know, now that you mention it, I think I did see them make eye contact one or two times..."
"See!"
"Shut up, Lyle."
"Dumbledore and McGonagall? Eww..."
"What's so gross about that? I think it's cute."
"Well, think about it. For starters, he's so old-"
"He looks good for his age."
"So does Professor Dippet! Have any of you seen the picture Tracy Keller and some other seventh-years found of him when he was younger? I thought I was looking at a picture of Humphrey Bogart!"
"Humphrey Bogart?"
"He's an American film star."
"I know who Humphrey Bogart is, and now that you mention it, Professor Dippet does look kind of like him... a little older, of course, but still..."
"Hey, maybe Professor Dippet IS Humphrey Bogart!"
"Lyle..."
"Shutting up."
Grindelwald felt that was enough conversation, and requested that the students take their seats. They did so without protest and no further discussion on the topic of Minerva McGonagall, and sat quietly and attentively all through his lesson. However, when the bell rang, the conversation picked up almost exactly where it left off. Grindelwald almost felt sorry for Dumbledore - the third-year Gryffindors had Transfiguration next.
Two weeks passed, and it was now September first, the start of the term. Minerva McGonagall thought she was going to explode with excitement as she made her way to the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. She had seen seven Sorting Ceremonies in her seven years at Hogwarts, but never from the perspective of a teacher. She wondered what it would be like, seeing the new first-years get sorted and then teaching them magic for the next seven years of their lives. She also wondered how many would get sorted into Gryffindor, her old house. No matter what the outcome was, though, it was sure to be exciting.
"Minerva? Minerva McGonagall?"
She stopped walking. That voice... it was so familiar... Minerva turned around, and saw short, slender, blonde girl about the age of seventeen walking toward her. The girl wore the robes of Gryffindor house, and also a badge with the letters HG on it. She recognized Tracy Keller, who started her first year when Minerva was in her fifth. "Tracy Keller?" she said. "You're - you're Head Girl!"
Tracy smiled. "I sure am. What are you doing here? You graduated four years ago."
"Professor McGonagall," came a voice from behind, "is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor."
Tracy and Minerva turned around and saw Armando Dippet standing behind them with a warm, friendly smile on his face. "How do you do, Miss Keller? Did you have a pleasant summer holiday?"
"I'm fine, Professor Dippet, and it was wonderful, thank you," Tracy said, blushing slightly. It was always an honor to receive attention from the headmaster, and even more so since last year, when she and four other sixth-year girls were going through some old newspapers and found a picture of Dippet at a younger age. All five of them unanimously agreed that Dippet bore a striking resemblance to the American film star Humphrey Bogart.
Tracy turned her attention back to Minerva and said, "You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor? But your specialty was always Transfiguration!"
"Professor Dumbledore still teaches that," Minerva said. "I was asked to join the staff when Professor Mahler retired."
Tracy blinked and scratched her head. "Wow. This is just... well, amazing. You're only four years older than I am, and now you're my teacher. I'm blown away."
Dippet pointed out that they needed to get inside the Great Hall so the Sorting Ceremony could begin, and he and Minerva excused themselves. The befuddled Tracy, still in shock over the fact that her former schoolmate was now her teacher, stood just outside the entrance watching them. She couldn't help noticing how Dippet gently touched Minerva's arm as he led her up to the staff table.
"Hi, Tracy," said Nina Brackett, a seventh-year Ravenclaw who was a good friend of her's. "Hurry up, or you'll miss the Sorting Ceremony!"
"Hey, Nina," Tracy said as her friend tugged her into the Great Hall, "have you ever noticed how much Professor Dippet looks like Humphrey Bogart?"
A few minutes after all the other students were seated at their tables, Quinn Grindelwald led the forty or so new first-years into the Great Hall and gave them instructions. "When I call your name, come up here so I can put the hat on your head," he said. "It will decide which house you should belong in."
Some students looked a little nervous; several others looked slightly relieved.
Grindelwald unrolled the large scroll in his hand and read the first name. "Abraham, Bridget!"
A short girl with big blue eyes and blonde hair in a neat braid stepped up to Grindelwald and sat down on the three-legged stool next to him. He lowered the dirty, ragged hat onto her head. The hat spent a few seconds mumbling to itself, and then shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"
The Ravenclaws cheered as Grindelwald removed the hat and Bridget Abraham joined their numbers. Grindelwald called the next name on the list. "Avante, Warren!"
Warren Avante was a stocky boy of medium height who was sent to Slytherin.
"Baker, Emmitt!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Bennett, Leslie!"
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Aside from the nearly three minutes the hat spent contemplating where to send "Keys, Bobby!"before finally deciding on Ravenclaw, the Sorting Ceremony was more or less routine. It ended when "Zion, Bella!" was sent to Gryffindor, and Grindelwald took the hat and the stool away. Dippet then rose and gave out several instructions, including reminding the students that the forest was strictly off-limits. He then took a moment to introduce "our new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, Professor Minerva McGonagall." All the students applauded, and several seventh-year boys were whistling until a reprimanding look from Professor Dumbledore silenced them.
Grindelwald made his way back inside and took his seat at the staff table between Minerva and Dippet. On Dippet's other side sat Albus Dumbledore, who had been looking rather pleased with the ceremony up until the boys whistled.
"Excited about teaching, Professor?" Grindelwald asked.
It took Minerva a moment to realize that he was talking to her, but when she did, nodded and said, "Yes, very much. Any students I should look out for?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't have a lot of problems with behavior."
She smiled. "I'm not surprised." Most of the students in her year had been terrified of Grindelwald. She had been a little scared of him, too, but it was more out of admiration than fear. She, along with a few others, knew Grindelwald was far more powerful than he let on.
"What group do you have first?" the deputy headmaster inquired. When Minerva gave him a mildly surprised look, he explained, "I'm making conversation. You know, I ask you a question, you respond, I make a comment about your response, and then you make a comment about a comment in my response, and so on and so forth."
She was bordering on laughter as she answered his question. "The third-year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs."
"Interesting," Grindelwald said thoughtfully. "I have that same group after your class. I'm sure they'll just be bursting with stories to tell about their first day of Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor McGonagall."
Minerva grinned and said, "We'll find out."
Grindelwald's prediction was partly correct. The students were indeed bursting with stories to tell about their first day of Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor McGonagall, but they seemed to be more interested in their teacher than the subject, as he realized by their conversations as they filed into his room for the Charms lesson...
"She's so young."
"She's hot!"
"Shut up, Lyle."
"Can you believe they actually hired a teacher that young?"
"Hey, Conan, didn't your brother say she was Head Girl his first year?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Who was Head Boy?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"I'm just curious."
"Some wacko named Alastor Moody. Rory said he was paranoid."
"I guess history repeats itself. Professor McGonagall and Alastor Moody sound a lot like the Head Boy and Girl we have now."
"Barty Crouch isn't paranoid."
"Ha! You don't sleep in the same tower as him."
"Shut up, Lyle."
"Hey, does anyone know if it's true if she's an Animagus?"
"Of course it's true."
"How do you know?"
"My sister has Transfiguration first, and I saw her on the way over here. She said Professor Dumbledore told them Professor McGonagall is an Animagus."
"How would he know?"
"I'm sure she probably told him. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he helped her train to become one."
"Bet you didn't know Dumbledore's sweet on her."
"Shut up, Lyle."
"No, I'm serious! He is!"
"Who told you that?"
"Peeves."
"You mean you actually believe Peeves? Lyle, have you been getting enough sleep?"
"No, I haven't; Barty Crouch's paranoia keeps me up all night."
"Peeves was probably making it up."
"Probably, but you have to admit, he did spend a lot of time looking in her direction at the feast last night."
"Puh-lease. He was turning so he could talk to Professor Dippet."
"You know, now that you mention it, I think I did see them make eye contact one or two times..."
"See!"
"Shut up, Lyle."
"Dumbledore and McGonagall? Eww..."
"What's so gross about that? I think it's cute."
"Well, think about it. For starters, he's so old-"
"He looks good for his age."
"So does Professor Dippet! Have any of you seen the picture Tracy Keller and some other seventh-years found of him when he was younger? I thought I was looking at a picture of Humphrey Bogart!"
"Humphrey Bogart?"
"He's an American film star."
"I know who Humphrey Bogart is, and now that you mention it, Professor Dippet does look kind of like him... a little older, of course, but still..."
"Hey, maybe Professor Dippet IS Humphrey Bogart!"
"Lyle..."
"Shutting up."
Grindelwald felt that was enough conversation, and requested that the students take their seats. They did so without protest and no further discussion on the topic of Minerva McGonagall, and sat quietly and attentively all through his lesson. However, when the bell rang, the conversation picked up almost exactly where it left off. Grindelwald almost felt sorry for Dumbledore - the third-year Gryffindors had Transfiguration next.
