At 6.50 o'clock, Minerva left her room, her long, flowing dark hair held back in a practical ponytail. She'd exchanged her school robes for the simple, dark red ones she wore in her spare time. She swallowed as she walked through the corridors, feeling way less brave than she looked. Tammy, Phelas and Pat had wished her all the luck- but Tams had made it quite clear that she really had to do her best to not be rude with her Professor again. In fact, it was usually Minerva who told Tammy such things. The world was upside down- but she'd deserved it.
Minerva knew very well she'd deserved it.
As she raised her hand to knock on her teacher's door, she felt herself shiver. She was nervous. She actually was nervous, and it was a totally new feeling for her. Maybe all this was good for her. Maybe all this would learn her something.
But she did not feel that way.
As she closed her eyes, she knocked softly on the dark brown, ebony wood.
Knock, knock.
"Come in, Miss McGonagall!" she heard her teacher say, as she slowly opened the door and came in.
"Hello, Professor." Minerva said, staring at her own feet. She felt guilty. She did feel guilty…
Albus Dumbledore stared at his student in surprise. Where was the rude, arrogant girl whom had constantly disturbed his lessons? Oh, this was definitely the same girl- the stubborn pride hadn't suddenly disappeared from her eyes- but how different she acted towards him. Maybe this would not be the total hell he'd imagined it to be.
"Welcome, Miss McGonagall."
She nodded and smiled faintly, still not daring to look into his eyes.
"My detentions," he continued. "usually are Transfigurations exercises, but because there hardly is a transfiguration you cannot perform, I have another task for you. There," He made a short gesture towards a little table in the corner of his room. "is the homework of my first years Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. I would want you to correct them. I am sure you will be capable to."
With another short nod, she sat down and took her quill.
"I'll try my best, Professor."
"I hope you will, Miss McGonagall."
She looked up quickly, with a bit of her former boldness, and said
"I have never tried anything less than my best for anything, Professor."
Albus almost smiled.
"So the little lady had not entirely faded." he thought. "The spirit still is alive, isn't it?"
Secretly, he was glad it was. He knew it was wrong, but he secretly admired that stubborn pride of hers, that "keeping her head up" and even the rudeness she displayed towards him. She wasn't one of those "normal" teenagers. She was someone special. Someone intriguing.
As she started to correct the parchments, he secretly watched her through his half-moon-sized spectacles. He smiled as he could so easily read the concentration on her face, watched her hand take her quill and correcting wrong answers, a slight frown above her eyes. He watched her hair fall in front of her face, saw her bite her lips as she almost smiled because of one particularly stupid answer. And then, after less than half an hour, she looked up and said
"Professor? Everything is corrected."
He, who'd started correcting some of the older students' homework, looked up in surprise and smiled.
"That is very quick, Miss McGonagall- my personal record was forty minutes. But you understand- it is only half past seven, I cannot let you leave already. But I have not got any…"
His eyes strayed off to the chessboard in the corner.
"Unless, of course, you would want to join me in a game of chess. Can you chess, Miss McGonagall?"
Minerva stared at her teacher in surprise. What kind of teacher wanted to play chess with the most rude… But she oppressed the thought and smiled faintly.
"Yes, I can, Professor, well I could. I used to play chess with… with my father." she added softly.
Albus Dumbledore nodded slowly.
"Yes, I know, Henry was an- exceptional chess player."
It struck him that she wasn't surprised to hear him speak about her father- did she remember him, then? Had she a really amazing memory… or had she just a great sense of self-control.
He did not know- did not know so far- that she had both.
"He was." she said, as he decided to not talk about her father again. She obviously still missed him very much- which was of course only natural. Maybe she had a great sense of self-control, but that did not mean that she could not be hurt.
He smiled and sat down behind the chessboard, making an inviting gesture towards her.
"Well sit down, then, Miss McGonagall, and may the best win."
Review Please… and a Merry Christmas an a Happy New Year to everybody!
Minerva knew very well she'd deserved it.
As she raised her hand to knock on her teacher's door, she felt herself shiver. She was nervous. She actually was nervous, and it was a totally new feeling for her. Maybe all this was good for her. Maybe all this would learn her something.
But she did not feel that way.
As she closed her eyes, she knocked softly on the dark brown, ebony wood.
Knock, knock.
"Come in, Miss McGonagall!" she heard her teacher say, as she slowly opened the door and came in.
"Hello, Professor." Minerva said, staring at her own feet. She felt guilty. She did feel guilty…
Albus Dumbledore stared at his student in surprise. Where was the rude, arrogant girl whom had constantly disturbed his lessons? Oh, this was definitely the same girl- the stubborn pride hadn't suddenly disappeared from her eyes- but how different she acted towards him. Maybe this would not be the total hell he'd imagined it to be.
"Welcome, Miss McGonagall."
She nodded and smiled faintly, still not daring to look into his eyes.
"My detentions," he continued. "usually are Transfigurations exercises, but because there hardly is a transfiguration you cannot perform, I have another task for you. There," He made a short gesture towards a little table in the corner of his room. "is the homework of my first years Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. I would want you to correct them. I am sure you will be capable to."
With another short nod, she sat down and took her quill.
"I'll try my best, Professor."
"I hope you will, Miss McGonagall."
She looked up quickly, with a bit of her former boldness, and said
"I have never tried anything less than my best for anything, Professor."
Albus almost smiled.
"So the little lady had not entirely faded." he thought. "The spirit still is alive, isn't it?"
Secretly, he was glad it was. He knew it was wrong, but he secretly admired that stubborn pride of hers, that "keeping her head up" and even the rudeness she displayed towards him. She wasn't one of those "normal" teenagers. She was someone special. Someone intriguing.
As she started to correct the parchments, he secretly watched her through his half-moon-sized spectacles. He smiled as he could so easily read the concentration on her face, watched her hand take her quill and correcting wrong answers, a slight frown above her eyes. He watched her hair fall in front of her face, saw her bite her lips as she almost smiled because of one particularly stupid answer. And then, after less than half an hour, she looked up and said
"Professor? Everything is corrected."
He, who'd started correcting some of the older students' homework, looked up in surprise and smiled.
"That is very quick, Miss McGonagall- my personal record was forty minutes. But you understand- it is only half past seven, I cannot let you leave already. But I have not got any…"
His eyes strayed off to the chessboard in the corner.
"Unless, of course, you would want to join me in a game of chess. Can you chess, Miss McGonagall?"
Minerva stared at her teacher in surprise. What kind of teacher wanted to play chess with the most rude… But she oppressed the thought and smiled faintly.
"Yes, I can, Professor, well I could. I used to play chess with… with my father." she added softly.
Albus Dumbledore nodded slowly.
"Yes, I know, Henry was an- exceptional chess player."
It struck him that she wasn't surprised to hear him speak about her father- did she remember him, then? Had she a really amazing memory… or had she just a great sense of self-control.
He did not know- did not know so far- that she had both.
"He was." she said, as he decided to not talk about her father again. She obviously still missed him very much- which was of course only natural. Maybe she had a great sense of self-control, but that did not mean that she could not be hurt.
He smiled and sat down behind the chessboard, making an inviting gesture towards her.
"Well sit down, then, Miss McGonagall, and may the best win."
Review Please… and a Merry Christmas an a Happy New Year to everybody!