A/N
Hi everybody, thanks for reading. This story explores the relationship between Dumbledore and McGonagall, stretching from her time as a student at Hogwarts to his death in HBP. I've tried to keep as canon as possible while still letting the MMAD ship sail. Your reviews and messages would greatly help me keep steering the story in the right direction, let me know when I hit and when I miss. This chapter is the beginning of 6th year.
Enjoy.
1951
"McGonagall!" a loud voice called out from the staircase opposite. "Oi! Minerva!" The broad shouldered boy pushed his way through a crowd of second years. His long fringe had flopped down into his eyes and he tried to push it back up into a careless quiff.
"I got Dumbledore to book the pitch for tryouts this Friday afternoon. We are a chaser and a beater short this year and I need you and Alaine there. 6 o'clock. No excuses."
Minerva was barely given the chance to blink before Sterling Barrett rushed off to a class he was obviously late for. She'd forgotten that Verity and Balthazar had finished school last year and she was not much excited at the prospect of having to adapt her style to a new chaser. By the time she sat beside Augusta in Ancient Runes she was in a thoroughly bad mood.
All through dinner she huffed into her shepherd's pie between passages of Trans-species Transfiguation. She didn't even notice when Ivy Jones came over from Ravenclaw's table.
"What's her problem?" She asked Augusta, loudly enough for Minerva to hear her.
"NEWTs … or Quidditch. Sterling posted for tryouts tomorrow."
Ivy sighed sympathetically, she was Ravenclaw's seeker. Their house tryouts would not be until next week though. Which gave her plenty of time to find a spare moment to brush the cobwebs off the proverbial broom. She looked up at the ceiling, there was still plenty of yellow amongst the creeping red. Minerva shouldn't be concerned about her place on the team. She was an excellent flier and the strongest chaser Gryffindor had over the last three years but there was not much a few laps around the pitch couldn't solve.
"Minerva." Ivy stated matter-of-factly. Taking the book from her hands and setting it down on the table. Minerva McGonagall gave her friend a pointed glare. "Go get your broom and come fly with me. I need to get back into practice before the season starts."
She began absentminded pushing peas around her plate instead.
"I don't much feel like flying today." She replied, curtly.
"Nonsense. I'll meet you down there." Ivy swung her legs over the bench and left the Gryffindor table, very much aware she had taken Minerva's book with her.
…
Minerva trudged down the path to the quidditch pitch with her broom over her shoulder, already feeling better in the fresh air. A figure much larger than Ivy was coming up from the opposite direction. She recognised him immediately.
"Good evening Miss McGonagall." Professor Dumbledore greeted pleasantly, "I was under the impression Mr Barrett had organised try outs for tomorrow night." He sounded concerned and she thought perhaps he was planning on watching.
"He has," she confirmed, "Ivy Jones asked if I'd fly with her and took my book with her for encouragement."
"That girl has a profound talent for pushing you in the right direction." Dumbledore observed cheerily, his eyes twinkling behind a pair of half-moon spectacles she had not noticed before. "I'll not keep you from her company any longer. Enjoy your evening."
"And you, professor."
When she reached the pitch Ivy was soaring some 20ft above her, speeding to catch a cricket ball she'd enchanted. Minerva straddled her own broom and kicked off, a little harder than necessary, to join her. She was immediately grateful to Ivy the moment her feet left the ground, the warm September breeze ruffled up her braided hair and lightened her loaded mind. She tumble rolled in elation before corkscrewing her way towards the goal posts.
"Glad to see you finally made it." Ivy called from across the pitch, lobbing the cricket ball as fast as she could. Minerva shot straight upwards and caught the ball before it could begin its downward arc. Flipping backwards in a measured semi-circle back to playing height.
"Show-off."
Minerva smiled sheepishly and threw Ivy her ball back.
"I'm not the one who pulled off that feint last year, that wasn't very fair to the Hufflepuff seeker."
Ivy sniffed indignantly. "Maybe not but Hufflepuff's keeper didn't pull a Starfish-with-no-Stick did they?"
Minerva winced at the memory.
They spent the rest of the evening speeding around the spectator towers, dive bombing and chasing each other, both stretching out the full extent of their arsenal of aerial manoeuvres. By the time they touched back down a cramp was forming under one of Minerva's shoulder blades and Ivy was walking strangely in an attempt to stretch out her hamstring. As they approached the castle Ivy reached into her bag.
"Oh, Minerva. I'd forgotten I had your book." Ivy grinned impishly and hurried off towards Ravenclaw Tower."
…
Friday morning saw Sterling Barret nodding off to sleep with his head in his hand at the breakfast table and Augusta Wallis jabbing him sharply in the ribs between bites of toast. Walter Longbottom was pouring coffee for him with a somewhat sympathetic expression.
"He was up all night planning drills." He explained, passing the coffee to Augusta. She hit his shoulder sharply and shoved the cup under is nose.
"Here, you dolt. Now wake up."
Sterling mumbled an unintelligible thanks and sank his face deep into his cup. Minerva let him stuff a few strips of bacon into his mouth before urging him to his feet.
"Come on," she advised, "We'll be late otherwise."
Walter consulted his own watch before clamping his toast between his teeth and shouldering his bag. He picked up the stack of Augusta's books she'd left on the table and started off after Minerva, pulling along Sterling with his free hand. As they reached the transfiguration corridor Sterling seemed to perk up immediately. Ivy was already waiting for them.
"What's wrong with him?" she mouth to Minerva as they filed inside. A handful of students were already inside.
"Quidditch." She mouthed back. Unpacking her books onto her desk, Ivy began to follow suit but looked over her shoulder towards Sterling, who was being propped up on either side by Walter and Augusta, with a queer look on her face. By the time they sat down Professor Dumbledore had strolled merrily into class as if he was pleasantly surprised they were already there.
"This morning you will require The Human Transformation by Madam Mim Dopple and your wands, please." He requested, starting to draw up what looked to be an intensely complex formula on the blackboard.
"Mr Longbottom did someone slip Mr Barrett a sleeping draught in his pumpkin juice this morning?" Looking over his peculiarly new spectacles at the two boys. Walter looked up from his paper, confused for a moment before realising Sterling had nodded off again.
"Oh… no sir."
"Give him a poke then." He winked, turning back to his equation.
"s'appened?" came a groggy exclamation from behind Minerva. Someone giggled.
"You are in transfiguration Mr Barrett," Dumbledore supplied kindly, "I'd enjoy Gryffindor's victory this year as much as you would but right now I need your attention here." The same giggle came again, softer this time, Minerva was appalled to find it sourced from the witch seated next to her.
It was halfway through their double period before Dumbledore had distributed hand mirrors amongst them and requested they alter the colour of their eyebrows.
It had taken Ivy half a dozen attempts before one of her eyebrows darkened marginally. Augusta had gone red in the face from concentration but that was all she had managed to change. Minerva was studying Dumbledore's equation carefully, dissecting it piece by piece and matching it against what Madam Dopple had written about the inconsistency of uniformity in human traits between individuals. There was a loud crack behind her and she turned in time to see Sterling clutching his face like someone had punched him in the mouth. He'd accidently given himself a rather impressive handle bar moustache.
Minerva dropped her eyes back to her books before she convinced herself she understood the theory behind the spell, examined her eyebrows critically in her mirror, moved her wand very quickly in one direction than the other and strongly enunciated the incantation. Almost immediately her dark brows turned a very similar colour to Professor Dumbledore's auburn hair. By the end of class Gryffindor was up 10 points and Ivy was wishing wistfully her blonde eyebrows would stay the light brown she'd managed to transfigure them to.
"Miss McGonagall stay behind please."
Minerva packed up her bag but walked up to the professor's desk rather than follow her classmates to Charms.
"Sir?"
Dumbledore removed his glasses, studied them briefly before tossing them across the desk and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"I was reviewing your timetable yesterday evening. Are you sure you are not asking too much of yourself?" There was deep concern in the blue eyes that searched her face.
"Quite sure," she raised her chin, "I'd like to have a range of options when I leave Hogwarts."
"Ah, still undecided then?" he asked, thinking back to their careers advice last year.
She shrugged non-committedly. "I don't like to be limited." She confessed.
"Very well, though take care not to burn the candle at both ends won't you?" he implored gently.
"I'll try, Professor."
"Good. Now go learn something." And he shooed her away.
Minerva McGonagall was an exceptionally bright and talented witch and if he were any kind of seer he was sure he would see a very bright and stimulating future for her. If any student could achieve 8 NEWTs she could.