"But I thought we got sorted now?" a little first year asked Minerva, looking up at her with big wide eyes that were filled with confusion. He was wearing the basic plain uniform of Hogwarts with a backpack slung over his shoulder and a little Pikipek on his shoulder that kept bobbing its head at her. Around him the other 11 year olds were also milling about, unsure of what was going on. Some had brothers and sisters that went to Hogwarts and knew that this wasn't right, that there wasn't supposed to be a tour of the grounds with Hagrid and Professor Vector. Others were the first in their family to ever good to Hogwarts but could sense that something was off and were now worried. Minerva forced herself to keep a kind smile on her face even as the frustration she felt over the delay with the sorting bubbled in her heart.
"The Headmaster just needs to see me and a few of your professors for a short meeting," Minerva said, not mentioning that the meeting could have easily waiting until after the sorting if it hadn't been for their latest professor, the pink annoyance the Ministry had forced upon them, whining that they needed to deal with the Golem in the room right away. 'At least she won't be teaching Battling as she wanted,' Minerva once more silently thought. 'Even if she doesn't realize that yet.' While that would be an even worse fight Minerva couldn't wait to see Dolores Umbridge's reaction to Dumbledore thumbing his nose at Fudge's demand his undersecretary teach the Battle Class. "Rather than make you wall wait in this drafty hall I thought it might be a bit better to have Hagrid and Professor Vector take you outside so you could see more the island. Maybe have Hagrid show you some of his POkemon?"
"Only the small ones," Septima said, more to Hagrid than the kids.
The new students murmured at this, some excited and others just wanting to find out what house they would be in. Minerva smiled one more time and headed off to the headmaster's office, she smile dropping as she did so.
As she did so she let her mind wander. And when she let her mind wander it always seemed to settle upon her favorite student.
It was something that a teacher wasn't supposed to admit: that they had favorites. Everyone knew they had favorites of course, as such things were the worst kept secrets in the world of education, but professors were supposed to try and at least pretend, if only to themselves, that they viewed each and every student fairly. That they looked upon each bright little face and saw them through the same eyes. That they gazed upon each graduating class and felt pride in each and every student that had walked through their classrooms. One wasn't supposed to have favorites, even if what caused such feelings, passion and excitement, were also what made the greatest professors.
The Beech Paraodx, as it was called, named after the famous Pokémon Professor Ignis Beech. To need enough passion to continue making education exciting and magical while having enough restraint to not respond to the very same passion in certain students and thus lose focus on the rest of the class.
For Minerva McGonagall she'd always tried her best to never play favorites. She remembered well when she had started at Hogwarts there had been a horrid Hufflepuff Head who had shown 'loyalty' by always siding with her students and seeing everyone else as an invader. Nothing too malicious but enough that students knew that if two hands shot up it would be the Hufflepuffs that would get called upon… and the points that would come from that. Worst had been how the woman had allowed the Hufflepuffs of that time to close up ranks and protect each other. Like the Hoenn Mafia the Hufflepuffs of Minerva's time would always cover for each other and their Head would only punish one if there was absolute proof; even then the punishments tended to be less strict than they'd be for anyone else. Minerva had sworn to never be like that and could say with pride that she wasn't blind to the faults of her house. The number of points she'd taken from the Weasley Twins spoke the truth of that. She had tried to find the best in all her students; something to latch onto that would help her connect with them. Oh, sometimes it was a near impossible task, like Sisyphus trying to roll his Golem up the hill, but she did try. There was always at least one or two students that made it hard but she did manage. She never ignored a student.
But play favorites?
She was honest enough to admit that she'd done that.
It had been hard not to in 1971 when what many considered to be the Greatest of The Lost Generation had started Hogwarts. Of course, to be fair, 1971 had been a year of prodigees and future masters for all the regions. Cynthia Malfoy. Diantha Delaclour. Antonio Rodriggo. Max McCan. Migel Iglesias. Jack Kenway. Franklin Boyd. Lance Blackthorn. Just to name a few. It had seemed that 1971 was a year for so many future masters to start their education.
Avalon though seemed to have gotten the bulk of amazing students that year. Peter Petrigrew, who she was ashamed to admit she'd spent the last few years thinking so badly of him before the truth of his death had been revealed; he had beenone of the PokePuff makers she'd ever seen. When he had died the world had lost an amazing chef. Sirius Black, who had walked through life with a laugh and a smirk, who had managed to be both lazy and talented and make it somehow work. Remus Lupin, the brightest young man in his Generation, his Class' Head Boy and who could have graduated 2 years early if not for his loyalty to his friends.
And of course there had been James Potter, the cheeky boy who always had a smart little comment waiting on his tongue. She'd never met someone who could be at once so utterly lazy and so utterly dedicated. When one found something he was passionate about he was the best student in the class... but if you bored him he had had no problem of letting one know just how disinterested he was. She remembered one time old Kettleburn had come to her ranting and raving over James giving him lip. When McGonagall had asked him if he'd docked her Little Growlithe points the man had admitted with a huff that he'd wanted to but James' points had been so spot on that he'd been unable to even muster a false defense. But that was how James had been... even when he was driving you made he somehow had managed to find a way to win you over. Even Team Nocturne had courted him long after he'd told them to piss off. The man had publically spat in Edwin Parkinson's face and the man still had tried to create a betrothal contract between baby Harry and Edwin's Pansy.
Not that it was merely Gryffindor who had seen prodigies within their walls. In Slytherin Sererus Snape had proven himself such an expert on Pokémon potions that research labs all over the world had sought out his talents before he'd even graduated; it had only been his desire to stay in Avalon, close to his sister and his sick father, that had seen him take the teaching position at Hogwarts a year later when Horace Slughorn had decided it was finally time for him to return and take the vacation to Alola he'd always wanted. The man's stern nature had made him a perfect fit for the Head of Slytherin, making him the youngest professor to have the title.
There had been others too. Greta Catchlove who had already written a book on proper Pokemon feeding a year after leaving Hogwarts. John Musgrave who had helped excavate the lost village of Lamorak. Dustin Dustin who was rumored to be Dr. Onasis' choice to take his place in the Elite 4.
But of all the students there had been one that had remained in Minvera's heart and despite all she had done she had become her favorite student... not just of the year, not just of her generation, but of all the students she had ever taught in her long career.
Lily Evans.
As Minerva smoothed her long dark labcoat (a deep red that was nearly black; she'd decided that she needed to add a bit of color to her life but still wanted to be professional, unlike the Headmaster who did white coats with Alolan shirts) and made her way towards the headmaster's office she couldn't help but smile, even all these years later, as she thought of Lily's first year at Hogwarts. Never before had Minerva seen a student so… hungry… to learn about Pokémon. In hindsight it made sense, what with Lily having decided to run away from home just so she could become a trainer, but back then, when she'd been in the middle of Hurricane Evans as some of her colleagues had dubbed the 11 year old, it had been merely a battle to stay ahead of the girl's questions and interests. A battle… of the most thrilling kind. Lily had been the type of student that teachers longed for. One whose enthusiasm would quickly spread to all around her. Lily had made one want to break away from the tired old lesson plans that they'd used for years and do something new and exciting. Horace had once called her a muse and McGonagall had come to agree with him. That girl could make even the most cynical professor want to branch out and try something new. To experiment. To push themselves. To find new avenues to explore and unexplored aspects of their chosen fields to examine.
As Lily had grown and matured her desire to learn more about the world around her there had been a fear that her youthful joy would dry up. But Lily still had desired to never stop learning. Merely she had learned how to contain herself… barely. At 17 one could still see the excited 11 year old just below her mature surface, bouncing with giddy delight. And for Minvera she had seen what had started as child-like glee over a world so many of them accepted as the norm not so much fade as transform into a more adult desire to explore. There was a restraint and patience there but that only served to guide her need to learn and not temper it and drive it away. All the professors had begun courting her during her 6th year to apprentice under them, with even the likes of Horace, who'd been planning to retire at long last, and Filius (who was famous for being an outgoing teacher but refusing to take on mentorships) heavily hinting at Lily that they were interested in her studying under them. Minerva had made her own pitch but had knew that no matter who Lily had ended up studying with she would eventually be headmistress of Hogwarts. The Head of Gryffindor had even suspected that, had Lily not settled down with James and decided to start a family and instead dedicated herself to a life of teaching much as herself in her younger years and Albus for his entire life, she would have managed to leapfrot Minerva herself and become Dumbledore's heir. And while Minerva would have been heartbroken if it had been anyone else… with Lily she would have been the first to pledge herself to her. Because Lily would have been the greatest of them all.
'And then that scunner Voldemort had to turn his focus on her,' Minerva mentally snarled before taking a moment to center herself. It would do no good to get herself worked up before this meeting. It would be stressful enough without added anger. Thinking about just how much the War had cost her… 'Not just Lily,' Minvera thought with a sad yet bitter sigh. 'So many promising minds gone because of that madman. So many good people killed to protect our dream… and here we are with it all starting over again. Wasted.'
It seemed as if life, sadly, constantly moved in cycles of pain. One that was beginning once more.
Losing nearly all of the 'Marauders' save for Remus and Severus (for, while he would protest that he'd never been part of the group, by the time Lily and James had married Severus and been integrated into the group fully, with Severus even serving as one of James' groomsmen) had been a heavily blow… with Lily's death being the worst of all. Several students, such as Nymphadora Tonks, had confided in her later that their first few years with her as a teacher had been difficult because she'd seemed so dead inside. When Lily had died Minerva had fallen into a deep depression and it had taken half a decade to claw her way out of it. That was why Minvera had been so excited for Lily's son to come to Hogwarts. She had seen in him a chance to try again, to recapture some of the happiest moments of her life and, perhaps, make things even better.
But sadly the word that seemed to always come up with Harry Potter was 'disappointment'.
At first it had been seeing just what those horrible people, the Dursleys, had done to Lily's child. He was so small, so thin and worn… it had boiled her blood. While she would never admit it in public when the news had come of Kenway's rampage through Little Surrey she'd quietly poured herself a drink and saluted the man for, at the very least, removing those monsters from the world. It didn't mean she didn't see Kenway as a monster himself but at the very least Vernon and Petunia were gone. She could toast one monster for killing other monsters. It had been painful to see the boy like that and even more painful when she'd learned how little he knew about his parents. How he didn't have any comprehension of how important Lily and James had been… how special they were. How loved they had been.
After that things had gone well, with the only darkness being the horrible month during Harry's second year, when she'd stood by and allowed Lucius Malfoy to railroad Hermione Granger and interrogate her in the middle of the Great Hall.
'I should have fought for her,' Minerva thought as she moved down the hall, the portraits of professors of Hogwart's past staring at her with painted eyes, thinking of how she'd lost for a while the House of the Brave. She'd known the moment Hermione had proven herself innocent that her little Growlithes wouldn't be quick to forgive her for betraying one of their own. Yes, her hands had been tied dealing with a Gym Leader and one as powerful as Malfoy, but that hadn't mattered to her students. They had seen it as a betrayal, of her refusing to live up to the trait that defined their house, and bowing in cowardice to a man purely because his wealth let him demand anything and everything. A Slytherin at that (though few realized that Lucius hadn't attended Hogwarts, as much as he liked to pretend that he had). It had taken a long time to undo that damage and Minerva feared that for some she'd never be able to heal that wound. Miss Granger certainly didn't come to her for advice like she had when she first started at Hogwarts and others, like Mr. Longbottom, also stopped seeing her as often as he once had.
And then there was Harry.
As time had gone on and Minerva had spent more time with Harry in class and watching him in the tower a new disappointment had reared its ugly head: he was nothing like his mother. He was a good student, grasping the material well and rarely needing any further prodding to get him to the place he needed to go. He wasn't like Mr. Weasley, who skirted by with the bare minimum in most classes save for Pokeball making where he had Fillius singing that he'd found a savant. Nor was he like Mr. Longbottom or Miss Weasley and did average in most classes while finding one particular class or two (tracking and grass-type rearing for Mr. Longbottom and advance programming for Miss Weasley). And he certainly wasn't like Miss Lovegood, who seemed to go the opposite way than everyone else yet arrive at the same path.
No, Harry wasn't like any of them. And he certainly wasn't like his mother, devouring lessons and knowledge like a dying man in the desert seeking a drop of water. Miss Granger was more like Lily Evans than Harry was. In fact if one had shown Minerva Miss Granger's and Harry's papers, without any names or identifiers, and asked her to select which was written by Lily Evan's child she would select Hermione Granger's every time. It has been utterly devastating and Minerva could admit infuriating that Harry didn't seem to care at all about exploring the world of Pokémon. He would learn about a subject the same as everyone else but none of his papers ever showed a desire to learn more. Where his mother had done extra assignments and asked for help on private research Harry was happy to do his assignments (which were admittedly well done and always placing him in the top 10% of his year) and then move on. Where other students did this all the time it frustrated Minerva to see such potential going to waste and while she couldn't hate Harry Potter she had seen him as a waste of talent.
It had only been at the end of his third year that she'd finally mentioned it to Remus after final examines and he'd announced that he would not be joining the school for another year. She'd been trying to convince him to stay on and finally resorted to telling him her worries that without him there to keep an eye on Harry he would slip even further into mediocrity.
Remus had just laughed.
"Your problem is that you are so focused on him fitting Lily's mold that you fail to see that he is something else entirely. You are trying to make a Sandslash into a Golduck." She'd given Remus a dry look at that and he'd finally sighed and explained. "Lily was amazing, yes, but you're looking back now with rose-tinted glasses. You see only the good and don't remember the bad."
"She was an amazing student," Minerva had argued.
"She was a know-it-all that would interrupt class all the time because she couldn't stop herself from asking a question," Remus had retorted, startling Minerva. "She would take any study group and go at the lessons with such intensity that everyone was worn out before the end of the first page. She would send messages to people in the middle of the night and not understand why we might be cranky the next morning with so little sleep. I loved Lilyflower but there is a reason I never studied with her. She saw the pursuit of knowledge like a mountain, waiting to be conquered. Fun if you like rock climbing but painful if you don't. I saw learning like catching a wave on some warm beach... you took the small, you took the big, and you found joy in it all. James and Sirius saw it like a racetrack where you learned all you could about one particular track so you could win and that was enough to get you through the rest. Peter was more focused on the small details, like a man building a little ship in a bottle not seeing that the sea was closing in on his home. All different."
"And Harry?" Minerva had asked, wanting desperately to know where she had gotten it all so wrong.
Remus had smiled. "Harry sees learning like a forest trail. Sometimes he wants to follow the path and just enjoy the trip. Other times he wants to step off into the long grass and see what he can find. To discover something that was lost or learn the familiar all over again. Lily would take a book and dissect every word. Harry will learn a book, savor it, maybe reread it a few times... and then try out another that was right next to it. Lily would never let go... Harry will leave what doesn't interest him because he sees life as far too short and why waste seconds on things that won't be worth it in the end?"
After that, at the start of the Fourth Year, Minerva had tried to view Harry through this new perception and found that Remus was right. Where once she had seen his method of studying and his focus meandering she had begun to see it as someone sifting and searching through the material, seeking out that which he knew waited for him, whispering for him to find it and discover it. And so disappointment had turned to a flicker of excitement and Minerva had begun to look forward to how Harry would grow. She'd stopped seeing him as Lily's child and just as him. Harry. Someone who would not become an expert in a field but instead create one of his very own, the father of some new subject.
And then the tournament and Harry's decision to compete.
She'd been angered. Enraged. She'd seen it as Harry pulling some grand prank, like his father before him. She'd thought it was Sirius corrupting him and using him to embarrass Hogwarts and the Headmaster. And, though she hadn't admitted it to Harry when she honestly should have, she'd feared for him. And fear had led to anger and that, in turn, had led to her demeanor to turn frosty and cold towards him.
'To my eternal shame,' she thought as she finally came to stand in front of the Headmaster' office door. 'I should have been there for him, helped him and guided him. Been a kind ear when he was scared and a helpful voice when he faced those unknown challenges. But instead I treated him with aloofness. ANd he knew it.'
It hadn't truly struck her until the end of the First Task, when he'd faced down that madman Kenway and his Tyrantrum, that Harry hadn't done this as a prank or to take the mickey out of Hogwarts. He'd been thrust into the contest and he meant to win. But just because he was going to win didn't mean he was going to follow the script. What Minerva had seen as spitting on the traditions of the Tournament Harry had seen as a chance to place his mark on the world and let all know "I am here and I will not meekly do as you demand." He had refused to be cowed or to cower. He refused to be proven less than his fellow champions. Much like how he tackled his lessons Harry sought his own path.
And it had won him the respect of regions while his own Head of House stood isolated on the sidelines.
'Of course it's been a long time since I've been a true Head of House,' Minerva thought as she opened the door and made her way up the stairs to Albus' office. 'So focused on so many other things... losing sight of what should have been my first duty.' She shook her head in self loathing. 'I lost Harry long before his 4th Year but that sealed it.'
The proof of that was the young man himself who was waiting, along with the rest of the staff that were to be part of the meeting, for her to arrive. Harry was wearing a new jacket, cut a bit longer than his old one and with a hood attached to the back (though thankfully the garment was in Gryffindor red and gold and not a replica of the Sons of Johto's preferred outfit). He was lounging on the couch that Albus had set up for parents that needed a place of comfort while discussing their child's grades or the latest trouble they were in; Pomona had jokingly once called it the Weasley Couch with how many times Arthur and Molly had to be dragged into Hogwarts, both for good (Percy and Bill) and bad (the Twins). Harry had one arm slung over the back of the couch, his legs stretched out before him without a care and his head half lulled back; Minerva instantly saw Sirius in Harry's posture and wondered how much of this was truly Harry being Harry and how much of it was an act meant to hide just how serious the situation was.
Whatever the case Minerva had a feeling this would be a meeting she'd never forget.
A hour later she'd reflect that she hadn't been disappointed.