Albus sighed and sat down, sipping from a large cup of hot cocoa. Before him stood the, well, one could easily call it a "data base" about all students he would teach this year. His predecessor had done his job very well and very diligently, so it seemed. Maybe even too well and too diligently… Still, he began to read through the pieces of parchment.
Nothing interesting. Well- okay, there were some kids he recognized. That Weasley, for example. Unmistakable, that fiery red hair and those big, green eyes. Must be a daughter- the youngest, probably- of Andrew. Well, she was quite clever, according to Professor Sermonem. Alll Weasley's were quite clever, actually.
And here- another quite interesting couple. Twins- ah, he always liked twins. Two golden-haired, mischievous-looking boys. He didn't recognize there last name, though…
Next couple of parchments- well, the usual stuff, quite normal students, nothing exceptionally.
And then, suddenly, there was another bit of parchment that attracted his attention. That absorbed his attention. The photograph was that of a- not of a juvenile-looking giggling creature- but of a personality. A girl with a pale, expressive face and delicate features, clear, blue eyes and a mass of ebony-brown, wavy hair. But it was not the beauty she obviously possessed that interested him. It was the expression- as if she was so damn sure of herself, as if everything was so bloody simple, and yet, not a slightly bit of arrogance. A personality. And a personality with brains, obviously.
"Has achieved top marks for all Transfigurations exams"
"Transfiguration genius"
"Youngest Animagus ever"
"Probably to be the greatest witch of her time"
Albus almost whistled through his teeth. Wow. This could become an interesting year.
And when he saw her name, he smiled.
"Minerva McGonagall. Well, well… Isn't that Henry's daughter- the oldest, if I am not mistaken."
He sighed. Henry McGonagall, an old friend of his, had died four years earlier, leaving his wife, a young, Scottish beauty, behind with two children. Minerva, this girl, who had been twelve years old at the time, and the youngest daughter- what had been her name again… Maia? Strange liking for names of Roman goddesses, Henry had had. She had been only two when her father had died. But the mother- Priscilla- had nicely taken care of the kids, and did now live with her youngest daughter with her family in Scotland.
Minerva McGonagall… Well, well.
It would surely become an interesting year.
Nothing interesting. Well- okay, there were some kids he recognized. That Weasley, for example. Unmistakable, that fiery red hair and those big, green eyes. Must be a daughter- the youngest, probably- of Andrew. Well, she was quite clever, according to Professor Sermonem. Alll Weasley's were quite clever, actually.
And here- another quite interesting couple. Twins- ah, he always liked twins. Two golden-haired, mischievous-looking boys. He didn't recognize there last name, though…
Next couple of parchments- well, the usual stuff, quite normal students, nothing exceptionally.
And then, suddenly, there was another bit of parchment that attracted his attention. That absorbed his attention. The photograph was that of a- not of a juvenile-looking giggling creature- but of a personality. A girl with a pale, expressive face and delicate features, clear, blue eyes and a mass of ebony-brown, wavy hair. But it was not the beauty she obviously possessed that interested him. It was the expression- as if she was so damn sure of herself, as if everything was so bloody simple, and yet, not a slightly bit of arrogance. A personality. And a personality with brains, obviously.
"Has achieved top marks for all Transfigurations exams"
"Transfiguration genius"
"Youngest Animagus ever"
"Probably to be the greatest witch of her time"
Albus almost whistled through his teeth. Wow. This could become an interesting year.
And when he saw her name, he smiled.
"Minerva McGonagall. Well, well… Isn't that Henry's daughter- the oldest, if I am not mistaken."
He sighed. Henry McGonagall, an old friend of his, had died four years earlier, leaving his wife, a young, Scottish beauty, behind with two children. Minerva, this girl, who had been twelve years old at the time, and the youngest daughter- what had been her name again… Maia? Strange liking for names of Roman goddesses, Henry had had. She had been only two when her father had died. But the mother- Priscilla- had nicely taken care of the kids, and did now live with her youngest daughter with her family in Scotland.
Minerva McGonagall… Well, well.
It would surely become an interesting year.