I was in love with two men.
I, Minerva McGonagall- serious, intelligent, boyfriend-less-and-not-caring Minerva McGonagall! It came as a shock to me, but I figured it would even be a greater shock to the people around me, so I did everything I possibly could to prevent them from finding out.
In public, I acted nothing less than rigidly towards Tom- one time, someone even slightly reproached me for being so unfriendly towards him… What a joke…
But when we were together alone- what a strange phrase, by the way, "together alone"...- it was magic. Fire.
I have never known such a strange, sudden and- but that I realized only later- fatal attraction as that between me and Tom. We didn't waste time pondering, thinking, because some part of us already realized, I believe, that it was not meant to be forever.
But whatever. As if we cared. We were young and we were overwhelmed by a feeling too big for us alone. It was so confusing.
I had always lead the life of an angel. I studied, I worked hard, I was serious and strict- even more for myself than for others. Teachers respected me, my fellow students too- though I felt I was sometimes observed as a somewhat… strange creature. My friends called me "exceptional", and that was perhaps meant to be a compliment, yet it does show I was not like the others.
Innocent, I was.
And then, Tom came, and feelings older than us, older than time, wiped my innocence away with the ease of a whirlwind. I still do not entirely understand. How it could happen. How I, intelligent, clear-headed, could fall for someone the way I did for him.
The only reason I can think of is just the one I have never wanted to believe in.
That it was meant to be.
And then there was Albus as well.
He became a friend. A true friend. Our relationship- though not yet a romantic one- went far beyond just teacher-student. We thought the same things, I and Albus, and seeing our age difference of more than forty years, that was in fact nothing short of a miracle.
We often played chess, and while we did so, we talked very much and discussed various things.
I told him of my youth. Of mother and father. Of Maia.
Maia, my sister whom I have never really known.
The story of my life is a sad one.
I was born the daughter of Malcolm and Teresa McGonagall-Wyattson on a cold, snowy December day, long ago. My mother gave birth to me at the McGonagall estate in Scotland- my dad's family was one of the more important Scottish wizarding families- and I spent my whole childhood there as well.
A very happy childhood indeed.
Yet that I really realized only when it already was too late. It usually goes that way, I believe. One can only realize the worth of something when it has been taken away.
My childhood was taken away from me.
But neither my parents nor I myself ever foresaw that. How could we, after all?
I have been an only child for very long indeed- which made me quite the exception in those days- but I never felt it that way. My mother had been just eighteen when she got me, little more than a child herself, and she enjoyed playing games with me as much as I did. Mom was a young, slender Scottish beauty, with, as people always said, emeralds in her eyes and roses on her cheeks… They also said I resembled her, but I never believed a single word of it.
I am not beautiful.
My dad was, though many years my mother's senior, still a tall, handsome man with reddish hair and always-blushing cheeks. He, too, nothing less than showered his only daughter with all attention and loving he could give her, despite the fact he, being an Auror, was often very busy.
I was a very happy child.
True- I hadn't got brothers nor sisters, but I had somehow never missed that as well.
Yet I remember as if it were yesterday when, just before I started my first year at Hogwarts, my mother told my she was pregnant with a little girl. I was absolutely delighted. A little sister… it would make my already complete world even more complete…
Maia would be the little girl's name, Mom and Dad had decided.
It was not meant to.
In March of the next year, the rising Lord Grindelwald paid my parents a visit.
Mom and the unborn baby were killed by one well-cast Avada Kedavra-curse. And somehow, it killed me as well. My dad survived, but within one year, he as well was buried next to mother. Death by grief.
I've read so many times about it, I thought it was impossible, but it isn't.
My Daddy died of grief, and left his little girl alone in this world. I've never blamed him, though. He loved my mother, and as soon as I was a lover myself, I realized I too would die with…
With Tom?
Or with Albus?
I, Minerva McGonagall- serious, intelligent, boyfriend-less-and-not-caring Minerva McGonagall! It came as a shock to me, but I figured it would even be a greater shock to the people around me, so I did everything I possibly could to prevent them from finding out.
In public, I acted nothing less than rigidly towards Tom- one time, someone even slightly reproached me for being so unfriendly towards him… What a joke…
But when we were together alone- what a strange phrase, by the way, "together alone"...- it was magic. Fire.
I have never known such a strange, sudden and- but that I realized only later- fatal attraction as that between me and Tom. We didn't waste time pondering, thinking, because some part of us already realized, I believe, that it was not meant to be forever.
But whatever. As if we cared. We were young and we were overwhelmed by a feeling too big for us alone. It was so confusing.
I had always lead the life of an angel. I studied, I worked hard, I was serious and strict- even more for myself than for others. Teachers respected me, my fellow students too- though I felt I was sometimes observed as a somewhat… strange creature. My friends called me "exceptional", and that was perhaps meant to be a compliment, yet it does show I was not like the others.
Innocent, I was.
And then, Tom came, and feelings older than us, older than time, wiped my innocence away with the ease of a whirlwind. I still do not entirely understand. How it could happen. How I, intelligent, clear-headed, could fall for someone the way I did for him.
The only reason I can think of is just the one I have never wanted to believe in.
That it was meant to be.
And then there was Albus as well.
He became a friend. A true friend. Our relationship- though not yet a romantic one- went far beyond just teacher-student. We thought the same things, I and Albus, and seeing our age difference of more than forty years, that was in fact nothing short of a miracle.
We often played chess, and while we did so, we talked very much and discussed various things.
I told him of my youth. Of mother and father. Of Maia.
Maia, my sister whom I have never really known.
The story of my life is a sad one.
I was born the daughter of Malcolm and Teresa McGonagall-Wyattson on a cold, snowy December day, long ago. My mother gave birth to me at the McGonagall estate in Scotland- my dad's family was one of the more important Scottish wizarding families- and I spent my whole childhood there as well.
A very happy childhood indeed.
Yet that I really realized only when it already was too late. It usually goes that way, I believe. One can only realize the worth of something when it has been taken away.
My childhood was taken away from me.
But neither my parents nor I myself ever foresaw that. How could we, after all?
I have been an only child for very long indeed- which made me quite the exception in those days- but I never felt it that way. My mother had been just eighteen when she got me, little more than a child herself, and she enjoyed playing games with me as much as I did. Mom was a young, slender Scottish beauty, with, as people always said, emeralds in her eyes and roses on her cheeks… They also said I resembled her, but I never believed a single word of it.
I am not beautiful.
My dad was, though many years my mother's senior, still a tall, handsome man with reddish hair and always-blushing cheeks. He, too, nothing less than showered his only daughter with all attention and loving he could give her, despite the fact he, being an Auror, was often very busy.
I was a very happy child.
True- I hadn't got brothers nor sisters, but I had somehow never missed that as well.
Yet I remember as if it were yesterday when, just before I started my first year at Hogwarts, my mother told my she was pregnant with a little girl. I was absolutely delighted. A little sister… it would make my already complete world even more complete…
Maia would be the little girl's name, Mom and Dad had decided.
It was not meant to.
In March of the next year, the rising Lord Grindelwald paid my parents a visit.
Mom and the unborn baby were killed by one well-cast Avada Kedavra-curse. And somehow, it killed me as well. My dad survived, but within one year, he as well was buried next to mother. Death by grief.
I've read so many times about it, I thought it was impossible, but it isn't.
My Daddy died of grief, and left his little girl alone in this world. I've never blamed him, though. He loved my mother, and as soon as I was a lover myself, I realized I too would die with…
With Tom?
Or with Albus?