Against All Odds

Chapter One

"Minerva! Minerva!"

As the high-pitched, excited voice echoed through the halls of the large house that was her home, Minerva McGonagall's irritated, green eyes looked up from the letter she'd been writing. Dropping her quill atop of her desk, she raised herself and straightened her heavy, emerald robes.

"Megara?"

Indeed it was her younger sister and only sibling, a wiry fourteen-year old, who came running into her room at a dangerously high speed. Her long, black plait bobbed as came to a stop right in front of her sister, breathing rapidly, the brown eyes she'd inherited from her mother sparkling in excitement.

"Megara," her elder sister sternly began, hands on her hips.

"Has the world stopped turning? Is hell freezing over?"

Totally not gripping the sarcasm dripping off her sister's voice, Megara confusedly shook her head.

"No."

"Then I see no reason whatsoever for making such noise. Clear?"

Knowing her elder sister's temper and having been a victim of it innumerable times before, Megara lowered her eyes and muttered an apology.

"Now what did you want to tell me so urgently?"

All of a sudden, Megara regained somewhat of her former excitement and hopped from her one leg onto the other. Grabbing her elder sister's upper arms- they were about the same height- she dragged Minerva along towards the large window, looking out over the long lane leading to the gates of the estate. A small coach was standing in front of the house.

"Megara, who-"

"Guess who, Minerva! Guess who!"

Megara was now positively shaking with badly concealed enthusiasm, causing Minerva to impatiently roll her eyes.

"Poppy, probably. Or Rolanda? Is it Rolanda?"

Megara widely grinned and shook her dark-haired head.

"No! All wrong! It's..."

She shortly coughed, as if preparing to make the announcement of the century, then exclaimed, clapping her hands like a toddler

"It's Dumbledore, Min! It's Professor Dumbledore!"

"What?"

Minerva clenched her slim fingers tightly around the marble window-sill, narrowing her already hind-sighted eyes behind her square glasses.

"In a muggle coach, naturally..." was her first, mumbled remark.

"Naturally. Yes, who else than can this be than Mr. Pink 'n Purple himself..."

Her facial expression, along with the irritated sigh with which she ended her sentence, was enough to make her younger sister frown.

"It's a gorgeous coach- and I just got a glimpse of him downstairs- he himself looks rather gorgeous too! You never told me he was gorgeous!"

Minerva immediately turned towards her sister, a stern expression fixed on her delicate feautures.

"Megara, first of all; you can stop using the word "gorgeous" now. And second of all, young lady, believe me, Albus Dumbledore is not "gorgeous"."

The other girl shook her head, though- the sisters were each other's equals in stubbornness.

"He is! Oh Minerva, you should have seen him- he's wearing the most..."

Any further discussion between the siblings was cut off, though, by a soft, polite knock on the wooden door that formed the entrance to the elder McGonagall's daughter's quarters.

"Yes?" Minerva turned towards the door.

Immediately, the door opened and a small creature stepped in, bowing lowly, its big, yellowish eyes smiling at the sight of its two young mistresses.

"Yes, Mitzy?"

"A gentleman has come to see you, Mistress Minerva. Master Malcolm told me to get you as quick as possible."

Minerva sighed and rolled her eyes, then straightened her robes in a rather irritated fashion and followed Mitzy and Megara downstairs, casting an annoyed glance at her overjoyed little sister. She did love Megara, a lot- was very fond of her in fact- but sometimes, the eternal enthusiasm and lively excitement just were a tad bit too much for her already quick temper. At the foot of the broad stairs, her father, Sir Malcolm, stood waiting for her, his hands fumbling nervously at the edge of his long cloak. His emerald green eyes lit up with worry as they locked with the equally bright ones of his eldest daughter. Minerva simply nodded, trying to fix a reassuring smile on her thin lips, yet not entirely succeeding. As much as she irritated herself, she realized she did really wonder about the reason of this surprise visit of her ex-teacher.

She'd left Hogwarts and her Professor two years earlier, and she had always believed that her feelings of not exactly wanting to see him again had been entirely mutual. Yes, she had been a good student- his top student, even- and yes, he had been her Head of Hourse, but around her 6th year, he had started to irritate her. The way he joked. The way his eyes twinkled. The way his clothes were always exactly the wrong colour. The way he didn't seem to be able to take anything serious. And the way every single girl at Hogwarts pined for a simple glance of her handsome Professor. That was perhaps the thing she hated the most. And then the sickening way he smiled at them- in an almost "fatherly" fashion, and that while he was in fact such an absolute idiot.

True, during her first years at Hogwarts, Minerva, too, had always thought him to be rather handsome, and so nice.

How wrong she'd been. For now, merely two years after leaving the school, Minerva simply couldn't believe how she'd ever been able to be stupid enough to think him anything else than the joking, incapable-of-teaching idiot that he was.

It was with those sentiments that she entered her father's study, and it was with those sentiments that she, after Sir Malcolm had closed the door behind her back, greeted the wizard who'd been waiting for her with a stiff, rather formal bow of the head.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore."

"Good morning, Miss McGonagall!"

Albus Dumbledore, as the gentleman he undoubtedly was, had stood up and bowed as soon as the young lady had entered the room, and as Minerva looked up at him, she rather reluctantly had to admit that he indeed did look quite smart. The dark blue muggle suit which he wore made his eyes stand out even more- and Minerva admitted that, without that insane, absolutely idiotic twinkle in them, they would have formed a somewhat attractive feature. To some women.

Yet Minerva almost snorted as he, with a smile, remarked

"That's a fairly long time ago indeed, Miss McGonagall. I had almost forgotten you were quite the beauty!"

Now was there one more clichéd, fake and absolutely untrue remark he could ever have made? Minerva had to take pains in not allowing her polite smile to slide off her lips. She'd never considered herself so much as just commonly pretty- and she had never really cared either. If he wanted to flatter her by making insipid remarks about her outside appearance, then oh how mistaken he was. As the only female Auror-in-Training she was used to being judged on her looks alone- but she'd fought it from the very first day onwards and in a way, she had succeeded as well. Minerva McGonagall was the top student of the small group of seven young people, and she was proud of it as well.

"It is indeed quite a time ago, Professor. But- excuse me, without having any intention of appearing impolite or ungrateful- may I inquire about the reason of this sudden visit?"

It was a polite way of being impolite, Minerva knew, but she could hardly suppress her all of a sudden fiercer than ever curiosity. One glance at her ex-Professor told her what she had known all along- he had come here for a purpose, and she had to admit she did want to know it, despite every feeling of dislike towards her visitor.

It also did kind of take away the oh-so-attractive twinkles in his eyes. He sighed, falling back onto the chair that had probably been appointed to him by her father.

"I suggest you take a seat, Minerva- can I call you Minerva again, by the way?- because this will probably take some minutes..."

And Minerva sat down with a sigh, preparing for a very long couple of minutes...