Disclaimer: I own everything you don't recognize. I don't own everything you do recognize.
A/N: I thought this little thing up in the shower. It's a one shot (for now). Please review my other story. I don't need anything for this. Please! I'm begging for anything over here. I'll accept flames!
***************************************
The orphanage was a cruel looking place. Albus Dumbledore had received an invitation to a formal dinner a week ago, and had accepted. Now, standing at the rusted iron gates and looking at the shabby building, he wished he had refused.
Hesitantly, he pushed the gates open with a creak that could have been heard all the way back at Hogwarts, and walked toward the old building.
Inside, Albus was pleased to see that it was actually a much warmer place than it had appeared. Many people were gathered around talking merrily and helping themselves to anything that had been laid out on the table. At once, he spotted the orphanage's owner, Joseph Basill.
Long ago, the two men had been good friends, but Basill had not been in touch with wizarding kind since long before the rise of Grindlewald. When Albus had heard of the orphanage, he had been extremely surprised. Joseph had never been the family type.
"Ah, Albus Dumbledore! Such a pleasure to see you again! It has been far to long!" Basill exclaimed when he saw the aging wizard.
"Indeed it has, Joseph." Albus replied calmly. After a brotherly hug, Basill led all the guests into a large, spectacular dining hall that, apart from the ordinary ceiling, might have rivaled the Great Hall itself.
Food was already set on the table. Turkey, dressing, potatoes, steamed arrays of vegetables, gravy boats, every seasoning imaginable, large salads, and enormous amounts of puddings aligned the table. Joseph showed everyone their chairs, and Albus found himself near the head of the table, facing a plate filled with cornbread muffins.
Albus found the dinner surprisingly enjoyable, though his eyes continually wandered off. They seemed to enjoy the scenery, more than the people next to him. Occasionally, he believed himself to have seen a figure moving around in the shadows, but dismissed it as a trick of the light after a tiring day.
After three helpings, countless conversations, and a supreme dessert, Albus, along with the other guests, made his way to leave.
"It has been splendid talking with you again, Joseph," Albus said, reaching for his glasses, only to find that they were not in his pocket. "Oh dear!" He exclaimed, "I seem to have left my glasses, may I retrieve them? I'll be needing them for the return trip."
"But of course," Basill replied, "but the orphans should be asleep, please try not to wake them."
"Thank you," Albus said quickly. He looked at his watch. 7:30. Those orphans went to bed quite early! He hadn't spotted a single one all night!
Albus found his way back to the dining hall with surprising ease. As he opened the door, though, he was shocked to find a small girl there, no older than five, cleaning the dishes and carrying the platters into the kitchen silently.
"Hello," Albus said pleasantly. The girl whipped around terrified. When she saw Albus at the door, her eyes widened in horror, and she dropped some of the larger plates with an ear splitting crash. Albus covered his ears, but the girl didn't even flinch at the sound.
"Please," she whimpered, "please, don't tell him you saw me! I'll be punished. He told me not to let anyone see me, and this is my last chance before another turn in the lasher! Please don't tell him! Please! Please!"
The girl was sobbing desperately. Albus had no idea what was going on. She was definitely one of the orphans, but who was the "he" who told her not to be seen? Surely not Joseph. And what on earth was "the lasher". Albus didn't like the sound of any of it.
"Who is 'he' so I won't tell him?" Albus asked carefully
"Master Basill" The girl whispered.
'Master Basill'? What was Joseph thinking? Was he running a slave-hold or an orphanage? The girl was a scrawny type. She looked like a good meal had been on of a few things that had evaded her. Some others were a pair of Barber's scissors, a hairbrush, a decent set of clothes, a bar of soap, and medicine.
"I was only coming for my glasses, have you seen them?" Albus asked her kindly. She smiled and pulled them out of her own hand-stitched pocket.
"These?" She asked
"Yes," Albus said, taking them from her, " Thank you, my dear." She blushed
Unfortunately, Joseph chose that precise moment to walk into the room. When he saw the poor child talking to Professor Dumbledore, his face reddened in anger, and he let out an unfathomable rage.
"What are you doing, girl?" He roared. The girl crouched down in fear as though he were brandishing a rod at her. "I though I told you to clean up and stay out of sight! What orders do you not disobey? You are to meet me at the lasher tomorrow morning at six o'clock sharp! Am I understood? Don't you dare disobey!"
Joseph turned away from her and seemed to notice Albus for the first time.
"Al-Albus!" he stammered, "How- how are you? Did you find your glasses?"
"Yes, Joseph," Albus said calmly, " This charming young lady had them ready for me." Joseph glared at the girl, but continued speaking to Albus.
"Don't mind Miss McGonagall, Albus" Basill managed through gritted teeth, spitting out McGonagall as though it was a synonym to dirt. Albus promptly replied.
"Joseph, I must say, I was startled when I got news of this orphanage. You were never truly the type for children," here he turned to the girl, "You will not go to the lasher in the morning," he said firmly, "Joseph, get this girl's adoption papers."
Albus was acting purely on impulse, but he didn't really care. Talking with Nicolas Flamel had been impulse, and they had discovered the uses of dragons blood soon after. He was willing to take a chance. Joseph stared at the aging wizard, dumbfounded.
"You want this one, Albus?" He sputtered, "B-but she's s-so disobedient! If you want a sweet girl, we can get Louisa down here, or maybe Constance, but not this one. She has a stubborn streak longer than the Atlantic, and is nothing but trouble."
"Get the papers, Joseph," Albus said calmly though he could feel anger rushing through him. Then, slowly, hesitantly, Joseph turned and left the room. Albus looked back at the girl.
"You are the McGonagall child?" Albus asked. She nodded her response. The McGonagall were a well known clan, and this girl was the last of them. Her father had been poisoned a week or so before her birth, and her mother died in childbirth. They left their fortune to no one in particular, so the city took it until the young girl was of age for it. In other words, she was stuck here until she turned twenty, and was on her own. The old Scottish mansion had been torn down.
A sudden thought struck Albus hard. The McGonagalls had been a well known *muggle* family. What if this girl wasn't a witch? What would he do with her then? Frantically, Albus reached for her right hand, and began running his fingers across her wrist, looking for some sign of magical properties. Hoping, praying........
"Aha!" Albus exclaimed loudly. He sensed magic in her. Enough to be trained. He breathed a sigh of relief and just for good measures decided to test the strength of her abilities.
They were high. Much higher than Albus had expected from a muggle born girl. And the girl probably had no idea. She looked at Albus in confusion as Joseph reentered the room with a pile of parchment.
Ablus grabbed the sheets and skimmed through them quickly. After a minute, he signed his name harshly on the line. The only thing he had really taken in, was the fact that this girl had no name other than McGonagall. Did they simply call her 'girl' all the time? pushing these thoughts aside, Albus told her to grab her things quickly.
"What do you mean?" She asked. It was blatantly obvious that she had nothing to pack. With a final glare at Joseph Basill, Albus picked up the girl and carried her out of the orphanage.
As soon as Albus was outside on the street, he took out his wand and flagged down the Knight Bus. As usual, a tremendous BANG revealed the violently purple vehicle. The confused young girl in his arms gasped, another sign of magical powers.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus: helper of stranded witches or wizards everywhere..."
"Thank you, Ernie" Albus said, stepping forward. "Just a small private bed, if you please."
"O' course, Professor!" Ernie replied, helping him aboard. Ernie Prang was a smallish Irish wizard in his mid-twenties. Albus had lately become friends with him and knew he was married and just back from his honeymoon in the United States.
Ernie led Albus and the girl to a small compartment on the second deck. Ernie didn't seem to be able to take his eyes off of the young orphan.
"Ain't she cute!" He said, peering over Albus's shoulder. " 'Ow old are ya?
"Four." She said clearly. Ernie seemed to amuse her with his twinkling eyes and curly, wild hair.
"Ernie," Albus said, taking quick advantage of her liking to him, "We need your help. This young lady here needs a name. What do you suggest?" Ernie put on a look of disbelief.
"A name?" he asked, "Four years old and ya ain't got a name?" She shook her head, and Ernie scratched his head.
"A first name Ernie," Albus whispered to him "Something to go with McGonagall,"
"McGonagall" He said, surprised, "Naw, you're too swee' a girl to be Scottish, ain't ya?" She shook her head, "Well, at least, I gotta call ya Mickey, until you 'ave a firs' name, 'nyway. Now, I personally 'ave always enjoyed firs' and las' names tha' start with the same letter. An 'M' name." Ernie was definitely rambling now, fortunately, he still held the girl's attention. "Hmm, I've got it! Minnie! Minnie Mickey! What a name!"
Albus was stunned. Ernie had thought of a name after all, sort of.
"Perhaps that would make a wonderful nickname, Ernie. How about Minessa for a full name?" Albus received a strange look from the girl next to him on the bed, "Or maybe Mineta," another incredulous look, "Perhaps something like Minerva, or..." She never let him finish.
"Minerva is a beautiful name!" She squealed, "I love it!"
"Minerva it is then," Albus concluded, "Minerva McGonagall."
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Did ya guess who it was? FYI, I only intended this to be a one shot fic, I never planned to go on with it. You can give it a shot if you want, I won't sue you or report you. I'm happy for you to take my ideas. In fact, I'm practically giving them to you! Lord knows I need some reassurance that people aren't just reading this 'cause I ask them to!
^-^ (meow!)
A/N: I thought this little thing up in the shower. It's a one shot (for now). Please review my other story. I don't need anything for this. Please! I'm begging for anything over here. I'll accept flames!
***************************************
The orphanage was a cruel looking place. Albus Dumbledore had received an invitation to a formal dinner a week ago, and had accepted. Now, standing at the rusted iron gates and looking at the shabby building, he wished he had refused.
Hesitantly, he pushed the gates open with a creak that could have been heard all the way back at Hogwarts, and walked toward the old building.
Inside, Albus was pleased to see that it was actually a much warmer place than it had appeared. Many people were gathered around talking merrily and helping themselves to anything that had been laid out on the table. At once, he spotted the orphanage's owner, Joseph Basill.
Long ago, the two men had been good friends, but Basill had not been in touch with wizarding kind since long before the rise of Grindlewald. When Albus had heard of the orphanage, he had been extremely surprised. Joseph had never been the family type.
"Ah, Albus Dumbledore! Such a pleasure to see you again! It has been far to long!" Basill exclaimed when he saw the aging wizard.
"Indeed it has, Joseph." Albus replied calmly. After a brotherly hug, Basill led all the guests into a large, spectacular dining hall that, apart from the ordinary ceiling, might have rivaled the Great Hall itself.
Food was already set on the table. Turkey, dressing, potatoes, steamed arrays of vegetables, gravy boats, every seasoning imaginable, large salads, and enormous amounts of puddings aligned the table. Joseph showed everyone their chairs, and Albus found himself near the head of the table, facing a plate filled with cornbread muffins.
Albus found the dinner surprisingly enjoyable, though his eyes continually wandered off. They seemed to enjoy the scenery, more than the people next to him. Occasionally, he believed himself to have seen a figure moving around in the shadows, but dismissed it as a trick of the light after a tiring day.
After three helpings, countless conversations, and a supreme dessert, Albus, along with the other guests, made his way to leave.
"It has been splendid talking with you again, Joseph," Albus said, reaching for his glasses, only to find that they were not in his pocket. "Oh dear!" He exclaimed, "I seem to have left my glasses, may I retrieve them? I'll be needing them for the return trip."
"But of course," Basill replied, "but the orphans should be asleep, please try not to wake them."
"Thank you," Albus said quickly. He looked at his watch. 7:30. Those orphans went to bed quite early! He hadn't spotted a single one all night!
Albus found his way back to the dining hall with surprising ease. As he opened the door, though, he was shocked to find a small girl there, no older than five, cleaning the dishes and carrying the platters into the kitchen silently.
"Hello," Albus said pleasantly. The girl whipped around terrified. When she saw Albus at the door, her eyes widened in horror, and she dropped some of the larger plates with an ear splitting crash. Albus covered his ears, but the girl didn't even flinch at the sound.
"Please," she whimpered, "please, don't tell him you saw me! I'll be punished. He told me not to let anyone see me, and this is my last chance before another turn in the lasher! Please don't tell him! Please! Please!"
The girl was sobbing desperately. Albus had no idea what was going on. She was definitely one of the orphans, but who was the "he" who told her not to be seen? Surely not Joseph. And what on earth was "the lasher". Albus didn't like the sound of any of it.
"Who is 'he' so I won't tell him?" Albus asked carefully
"Master Basill" The girl whispered.
'Master Basill'? What was Joseph thinking? Was he running a slave-hold or an orphanage? The girl was a scrawny type. She looked like a good meal had been on of a few things that had evaded her. Some others were a pair of Barber's scissors, a hairbrush, a decent set of clothes, a bar of soap, and medicine.
"I was only coming for my glasses, have you seen them?" Albus asked her kindly. She smiled and pulled them out of her own hand-stitched pocket.
"These?" She asked
"Yes," Albus said, taking them from her, " Thank you, my dear." She blushed
Unfortunately, Joseph chose that precise moment to walk into the room. When he saw the poor child talking to Professor Dumbledore, his face reddened in anger, and he let out an unfathomable rage.
"What are you doing, girl?" He roared. The girl crouched down in fear as though he were brandishing a rod at her. "I though I told you to clean up and stay out of sight! What orders do you not disobey? You are to meet me at the lasher tomorrow morning at six o'clock sharp! Am I understood? Don't you dare disobey!"
Joseph turned away from her and seemed to notice Albus for the first time.
"Al-Albus!" he stammered, "How- how are you? Did you find your glasses?"
"Yes, Joseph," Albus said calmly, " This charming young lady had them ready for me." Joseph glared at the girl, but continued speaking to Albus.
"Don't mind Miss McGonagall, Albus" Basill managed through gritted teeth, spitting out McGonagall as though it was a synonym to dirt. Albus promptly replied.
"Joseph, I must say, I was startled when I got news of this orphanage. You were never truly the type for children," here he turned to the girl, "You will not go to the lasher in the morning," he said firmly, "Joseph, get this girl's adoption papers."
Albus was acting purely on impulse, but he didn't really care. Talking with Nicolas Flamel had been impulse, and they had discovered the uses of dragons blood soon after. He was willing to take a chance. Joseph stared at the aging wizard, dumbfounded.
"You want this one, Albus?" He sputtered, "B-but she's s-so disobedient! If you want a sweet girl, we can get Louisa down here, or maybe Constance, but not this one. She has a stubborn streak longer than the Atlantic, and is nothing but trouble."
"Get the papers, Joseph," Albus said calmly though he could feel anger rushing through him. Then, slowly, hesitantly, Joseph turned and left the room. Albus looked back at the girl.
"You are the McGonagall child?" Albus asked. She nodded her response. The McGonagall were a well known clan, and this girl was the last of them. Her father had been poisoned a week or so before her birth, and her mother died in childbirth. They left their fortune to no one in particular, so the city took it until the young girl was of age for it. In other words, she was stuck here until she turned twenty, and was on her own. The old Scottish mansion had been torn down.
A sudden thought struck Albus hard. The McGonagalls had been a well known *muggle* family. What if this girl wasn't a witch? What would he do with her then? Frantically, Albus reached for her right hand, and began running his fingers across her wrist, looking for some sign of magical properties. Hoping, praying........
"Aha!" Albus exclaimed loudly. He sensed magic in her. Enough to be trained. He breathed a sigh of relief and just for good measures decided to test the strength of her abilities.
They were high. Much higher than Albus had expected from a muggle born girl. And the girl probably had no idea. She looked at Albus in confusion as Joseph reentered the room with a pile of parchment.
Ablus grabbed the sheets and skimmed through them quickly. After a minute, he signed his name harshly on the line. The only thing he had really taken in, was the fact that this girl had no name other than McGonagall. Did they simply call her 'girl' all the time? pushing these thoughts aside, Albus told her to grab her things quickly.
"What do you mean?" She asked. It was blatantly obvious that she had nothing to pack. With a final glare at Joseph Basill, Albus picked up the girl and carried her out of the orphanage.
As soon as Albus was outside on the street, he took out his wand and flagged down the Knight Bus. As usual, a tremendous BANG revealed the violently purple vehicle. The confused young girl in his arms gasped, another sign of magical powers.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus: helper of stranded witches or wizards everywhere..."
"Thank you, Ernie" Albus said, stepping forward. "Just a small private bed, if you please."
"O' course, Professor!" Ernie replied, helping him aboard. Ernie Prang was a smallish Irish wizard in his mid-twenties. Albus had lately become friends with him and knew he was married and just back from his honeymoon in the United States.
Ernie led Albus and the girl to a small compartment on the second deck. Ernie didn't seem to be able to take his eyes off of the young orphan.
"Ain't she cute!" He said, peering over Albus's shoulder. " 'Ow old are ya?
"Four." She said clearly. Ernie seemed to amuse her with his twinkling eyes and curly, wild hair.
"Ernie," Albus said, taking quick advantage of her liking to him, "We need your help. This young lady here needs a name. What do you suggest?" Ernie put on a look of disbelief.
"A name?" he asked, "Four years old and ya ain't got a name?" She shook her head, and Ernie scratched his head.
"A first name Ernie," Albus whispered to him "Something to go with McGonagall,"
"McGonagall" He said, surprised, "Naw, you're too swee' a girl to be Scottish, ain't ya?" She shook her head, "Well, at least, I gotta call ya Mickey, until you 'ave a firs' name, 'nyway. Now, I personally 'ave always enjoyed firs' and las' names tha' start with the same letter. An 'M' name." Ernie was definitely rambling now, fortunately, he still held the girl's attention. "Hmm, I've got it! Minnie! Minnie Mickey! What a name!"
Albus was stunned. Ernie had thought of a name after all, sort of.
"Perhaps that would make a wonderful nickname, Ernie. How about Minessa for a full name?" Albus received a strange look from the girl next to him on the bed, "Or maybe Mineta," another incredulous look, "Perhaps something like Minerva, or..." She never let him finish.
"Minerva is a beautiful name!" She squealed, "I love it!"
"Minerva it is then," Albus concluded, "Minerva McGonagall."
**********************************
Did ya guess who it was? FYI, I only intended this to be a one shot fic, I never planned to go on with it. You can give it a shot if you want, I won't sue you or report you. I'm happy for you to take my ideas. In fact, I'm practically giving them to you! Lord knows I need some reassurance that people aren't just reading this 'cause I ask them to!
^-^ (meow!)