2. The Morning After
When Minerva opened her eyes the next morning, she looked up at the ceiling of her four-poster bed in her Gryffindor dormitory and smiled. Augusta snored loudly in the bed right next to her. It was a little early for breakfast, but Minerva couldn't go back to sleep. She was too excited for her first day of school.
She used the time to start a letter to her parents. As embarrassing as the Sorting had been for her, she felt the need to tell someone (so that, hopefully, they could tell her that it no longer mattered now that she was in Gryffindor and about to start school). Just to be safe, Minerva asked her parents not to tell her brothers about it.
Unfortunately, she quickly discovered that sweeping the whole thing under the rug would be a lot more difficult than she had thought. On her way to breakfast several people greeted her by saying 'Morning, hatstall,' which Minerva supposed was meant as a joke, but then at her house table a couple of students asked her if she was sure that she was sitting at the right table. Minerva did not find that particularly funny.
"Just ignore them," Augusta advised her when she had joined her for breakfast.
It was sound advice. Only Minerva couldn't heed it.
A Gryffindor third-year asked her to pass the porridge, but when she did, he pulled back his hand. "Oh, wait, I think I changed my mind. I think I'll have toast instead."
Minerva narrowed her eyes at him, but put down the bowl of porridge and offered him the toast. He reached out to take one, but then jumped backwards.
"Oh no, I don't think that's right either. I'm so confused! Could you wait for five and a half minutes until I know what I want?"
"No, I couldn't!" Minerva dropped the plate back onto the table with a loud clang. "And if you're confused, you should go to Professor Dumbledore and tell him that you can't go to class today because someone put a Confundus Charm on you."
The boy gaped at her. "A what now?"
"You're a third-year, aren't you?"
"Yeah, so?"
"So if you don't know what a Confundus Charm is, maybe you're the one who's in the wrong house or perhaps the wrong school," Minerva snapped and turned her back on him.
Augusta only looked surprised for a moment and then gave her a broad grin. But the third-year turned to his friends and said quite loudly, "Now I know why the Sorting Hat took so long. It probably didn't want to let her in, but she annoyed the hat so much that it had to give in eventually."
Minerva gritted her teeth and forced herself not to rise to the bait. But then she heard how the boy began to gag and when she dared to look, she saw him spit out his pumpkin juice. "Ew, this tastes like crap!"
One of his friends reached for his goblet and took a sip. "Tastes okay to me."
"No, I'm telling you, it tasted like bogeys!"
"How do you even know what bogeys taste like?"
Minerva turned back around and snickered.
Augusta's eyes were wide when she leaned in closer. "Did you do that? Because if there's a Bogey Flavour Spell, you have to teach me!"
Minerva's smile dimmed. There was no such spell, but she had wished for something to make that boy shut up. She had used magic on a classmate without meaning to! If someone besides Augusta had noticed – a teacher or…
She hung her head and didn't look left or right until she was sitting in her very first class, which happened to be History of Magic. Their teacher entering the classroom through the blackboard shocked her out of her reverie. Professor Binns was a ghost and completely oblivious of that fact. Or perhaps he was so devoted to teaching that he had decided not to leave his chosen profession even after death. Minerva rather liked that explanation. Unfortunately, his lesson wasn't very lively. Professor Binns more or less ignored them completely and read from a parchment that detailed the foundation of Hogwarts.
Minerva took notes anyway.
Her classmates seemed rather disappointed that they hadn't got to do any magic in their first lesson. Minerva on the other hand was quite all right with that. While everyone else got even more excited for their next class, Minerva could hardly even remember her own excitement from this morning. They had Transfiguration with Dumbledore next. Surely they would learn loads from the man who had defeated Grindelwald.
Augusta was thrilled. Minerva was quite confused.
"Should be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, shouldn't he?" Augusta said as they were queuing outside the classroom.
"Who?" Minerva asked.
"Dumbledore, of course!"
"Oh, well, maybe Transfiguration is his favourite subject," Minerva suggested half-heartedly.
Augusta didn't look convinced. "I highly doubt he defeated Grindelwald by turning him into an alarm clock."
"But that's just it, isn't it?" Minerva said, perking up a bit. "Cursing someone is easy. Anyone can do that. But changing things or conjuring them out of thin air or even giving them life… that is really advanced magic."
"Couldn't have said it better myself."
Minerva jumped as once again Professor Dumbledore was standing right behind her. For a man who was so tall, he was quite good at sneaking up on people. Or maybe it was just her.
"Perhaps you would like to start the lesson for me?" Dumbledore asked with a curious smile on his lips.
"No, sir. Sorry, sir," Minerva muttered quickly.
"No? Well, in you go then." He lazily waved his wand and the classroom door sprang open.
Everyone was eager to get inside. Augusta made sure that she and Minerva got seats in the front row by the window.
When everyone was seated, Dumbledore smiled at them warmly. "I'd like to once again welcome all of you. I trust you're having a good first day at Hogwarts," he began.
Minerva quickly averted her eyes.
"I hope you'll forgive me, but I don't know all of your names just yet, and I will need to check that you're all here on this very fine morning." He checked their names off a list. Thankfully, he did so without dwelling on her name any longer than on the others. "Now, I'm sure you're all very excited to start waving your wands, make your pets fly across the room and hex your fellow classmates," Dumbledore continued.
Minerva frowned. Should a teacher be encouraging them to do stuff like that? She was quite certain that Professor Dippet had told them that it was forbidden to do magic in the corridors in between classes and most certainly to use it on each other.
Dumbledore seemed quite unconcerned. "However, I must caution you that Transfiguration requires quite a bit more than quick wand waving, even if you do it with the best of intentions. It is a very complex and sophisticated branch of magic that will ask precision and dedication from both the wand and the witch or wizard wielding it. As some of you undoubtedly already know." He glanced Minerva's way and winked.
"But fear not, I shall do my very best to guide and introduce you to the wonderful art of Transfiguration. In the face of such daunting odds, I always find it best to start small, like how you would start with an appetiser before the main course. So today we will…"
Professor Dumbledore paused because a hand had gone up in the back row. Graciously overlooking the interruption, he asked, "A question already? Yes, Mr Bayfield?"
"Please, Professor, we were wondering if you could tell us more about how you defeated Grindelwald," a boy named Duncan Bayfield asked. Minerva hadn't spoken to him yet, which meant that he hadn't teased her about the hatstall incident. And so she had thought that he was quite all right. But she didn't like the way he said 'we,' as though they had all conspired to ask Professor Dumbledore nosy questions.
If Dumbledore was annoyed by the brazenness of the question, he didn't show it. "That, I'm afraid, is outside of what I'm being paid to teach you in this classroom." His words were kind but a clear dismissal all the same.
At least Minerva thought it had been quite clear. Another hand shot into the air, though. It belonged to one of the girls from Minerva's dormitory named Alison Quinn. All Minerva knew about her so far was that she had put a (stationary) picture of her family dog up over her bed. "But, sir, can't you use Transfiguration in a duel?" she asked.
Professor Dumbledore turned his blue, sombre eyes on her. "I most certainly can. You on the other hand are not to engage in duels until you're much older."
"So, some day you will teach us some of the spells you used against Grindelwald?" This time it was Augusta who had spoken without even waiting to be called upon.
At this point Minerva was sure she saw Dumbledore suppress a sigh. "What I will teach you – if you'll let me – are Transformation and Switching Spells, how to untransfigure objects and make them vanish; and if you'll join me for your N.E.W.T.s, we shall brave Human Transfigurations and even the art of Conjuration. What you will do with these spells is, of course, entirely up to you. Now may I proceed or are there any more questions?"
He hadn't raised his voice or even looked at any of them other than with that mild smile on his lips, and yet there was no mistaking the fact that whoever asked another question about Grindelwald would do so at his or her own peril.
No one said a word. No one even dared to move.
"Oh dear," Professor Dumbledore muttered under his breath, perhaps realising that the whole class looked slightly terrified. "Let us try this another way. Please pick up your wands."
Since this was the first time they had ever been told to use their wands, the class immediately came back to life. They all had their wands ready within seconds and looked expectantly at Professor Dumbledore. He in turn also raised his wand, which didn't look like a wand one could have bought at Ollivanders, Minerva noticed, and in front of each of them appeared a set of matches.
"Can anyone tell me what kind of magic I just used?" Dumbledore asked.
Those who had raised their hands earlier still seemed hesitant to do so again or maybe they didn't know the answer, though Minerva thought that it was quite obvious since Professor Dumbledore had already told them. And so she said, "A conjuring spell, sir."
"Indeed," Dumbledore nodded, smiling at her. "Conjuration is horribly complex and comes with its own set of limitations that shall not concern us today. Because all you will be doing today is a simple Transformation spell that should transform your matches into needles. If you would all please point your wands at your match and say 'Argentium!'"
The class hesitated, no one willing to go first, which Dumbledore acknowledged with a chuckle. "On the count of three then. One, two, three, Argentium!"
The entire class echoed the incantation, some joining in a bit late. Minerva barely even moved her lips.
"Can anyone see any change to their match? No? No need to be disappointed. You simply have no idea what you're doing yet. But it does feel good to hold your wands, does it not?" Professor Dumbledore asked brightly and several students now dared to nod and grin back at him.
"Transfiguration in short is the alteration of the form or appearance of an object via the alteration of said object's molecular structure. Any transformation is directly influenced by a couple of factors, namely body weight, viciousness, wand power and concentration. What that means for you is that transforming a match into a needle is one of the easiest Transfiguration spells you can attempt since both objects are very similar in size and form, and I am sure you can all easily picture a perfectly ordinary needle in your mind's eye."
Professor Dumbledore's explanations sounded pretty straightforward to Minerva, but next to her Augusta mouthed 'viciousness' with a slight frown on her face.
"As you attempt to transform your match and while transfiguring in general, be as firm and decisive in your wand movements as possible. Please do not try to impress anyone by twirling or wiggling your wand, as that might look very dashing but will most certainly distract from your Transfiguration. Any successful Transfiguration requires precision."
Dumbledore picked up a match from Duncan's table right in front of him, gave his wand the tiniest of flicks as he said the incantation, and in the blink of an eye he was holding a sparkling needle instead.
"You don't need to take only my word for it, however. You may open your Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration to page seven for further instructions. I'll be coming around the room to help. Please begin."
Minerva opened her book and scanned the corresponding page several times. Next to her, Augusta was already waving her wand very energetically, doing the exact opposite of what Professor Dumbledore had just told them about wand handling. But Minerva didn't point that out to her because she wasn't any better.
She only held her wand loosely in her right hand as she stared at her match. Then she lifted her head and looked out of the window at the beautiful castle grounds and the wild Scottish countryside.
It was all so very strange. She had tried so hard for so long not to do magic. Ever since she had been old enough to understand that it was not normal for bag pipes to start playing on their own to lull her to sleep, or for her favourite toys to simply appear right next to her in her bed when she was feeling lonely, or for her cat to bring them to her when she was too lazy to get up.
"Is there a problem, Miss McGonagall?"
Minerva quickly looked away from the window and met her teacher's gaze. "No, sir," she said automatically. But then she reconsidered. The teachers were here to help them, and Professor Dumbledore in particular seemed to be patiently waiting for her to explain herself. "It's just… you're sure it's okay to do magic in here?"
For the first time she thought she saw a frown on Dumbledore's face. "That is what you're here for if I'm not mistaken. And I rarely am, if you'll excuse my saying so." His eyes twinkled at her.
"I know. I mean… I know that that's why we're here, not whether you're often mistaken or not. Not that you are! I mean…" Minerva lost her train of thought and stopped in horror.
But Dumbledore merely chuckled. "What exactly is it that you're worried about?" he asked. "I can assure you there is no shame in failure."
Just as he had said that, Holter Furlong in the row behind Minerva raised a shaky hand. "Um, Professor…?"
Barely even bothering to look, Dumbledore waved his wand. Somehow Alison had managed to melt her and Holter's matches into one giant puddle of… something. Dumbledore easily replaced the thoroughly destroyed matches with perfectly new ones.
Emboldened, Minerva asked, "Are you quite sure that there are no Muggles around to see?"
When she saw the surprised look on Professor Dumbledore's face, she immediately felt stupid for asking. "Muggles in Hogwarts? What gave you that idea?"
There seemed to be no point in backpedalling now, so Minerva glanced at the window again. "We get a lot of hikers in the highlands. I know Hogwarts is protected, but is it really completely impossible for someone to discover the castle and come close enough to see us do magic? I don't want to get in trouble with the Ministry," she explained.
Dumbledore raised both eyebrows. "The Ministry of Magic?"
Minerva nodded. "You know, for breaking the International Statute of Secrecy?"
"Oh, I'm quite familiar with our laws. I helped tweak a few of them. Which is how I know that there is no law that says that a bright young witch like yourself is forbidden from doing magic in my classroom. So," Dumbledore nodded towards her untouched match, "feel free to do your worst."
Minerva opened her mouth to say something, but Dumbledore beat her to it. "I promise you if any officials from the Ministry of Magic show up here to take you in, they'll have to go through me first."
There was nothing she could say to an extraordinary promise like that, so Minerva nodded and Dumbledore smiled before he moved on to the next student.
Glad he hadn't stayed to watch her, Minerva read the instructions in her textbook one more time and thought of Dumbledore's demonstration. Then she tightened her grip on her wand and blocked out everything else, focusing solely on her match. It quivered for a moment and then morphed into a needle, albeit reluctantly, it seemed to Minerva.
Not at all convinced that this hadn't been just a stroke of luck, she moved on to the next match. It, too, transformed, a little faster this time. Minerva continued like that until she was out of matches.
She leaned back in her chair and released a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. As she was staring at a set of perfectly fine needles, holding her wand suddenly felt different than it had before. It was no longer just a piece of wood that promised her a future she couldn't actually picture. Now it seemed to hum with energy, and finally Minerva understood what Mr Ollivander had tried to tell her about the connection between a witch and her wand. She knew it was still only a piece of fir wood with a dragon heartstring inside, but all nine and a half inches of it now seemed pleased and eager for her to find out what else they could do together.
Slowly, a grin spread across her face and Minerva raised her hand into the air as high as it would go.
When Professor Dumbledore approached her table, she said, "I'll be needing more matches, Professor."
"Of course, you…" He broke off when he spotted the needles that Minerva had neatly arranged in the centre of her table. Quickly, almost calculating, his eyes darted from the needles to Minerva and back.
"Did I… did I do something wrong?" Minerva asked, unnerved by his silence.
The unreadable expression on Professor Dumbledore's face morphed into a smile. "Quite the opposite, Miss McGonagall, you most certainly did something very right. Take… let's see… five points for Gryffindor for every successful Transfiguration you did here today."
Minerva's eyes lit up when she realised how many points she had just earned for her house. "Can I have more matches then, Professor? I'm sure I could do more." Dumbledore was Head of Gryffindor House after all. He should be just as interested in her winning more points.
Dumbledore chortled. "I believe you. But I'd like you to read the rest of the first chapter now, paying special attention to the formula on page nine. Sum it up for me and explain how it is relevant to what you did here today. To be handed in as a short essay in our next lesson."
"Yes, sir," Minerva nodded. "But are you sure I can't also have more matches, Professor?"
He didn't get the chance to answer her because Duncan had accidentally turned Drew Carmel's hair silver and she was screaming her head off, even though it took Dumbledore all of two seconds to fix it. He then told everyone to keep practising and to read the chapter in the book. No one else was supposed to write an essay about it. Minerva decided that was a good thing. Especially when she noticed that none of her classmates had even come particularly close to a successful Transfiguration.
"Let me guess," Augusta said as they were packing up their things. "The other house the hat wanted to send you to was Ravenclaw?"
"Are you saying I should have gone there instead?" Minerva asked warily.
"No way! I'll need you to tell me exactly how you did that just now so I can do it, too," Augusta said and linked arms with her.
As they were leaving the classroom, Minerva thought that Professor Dumbledore had been right.
It really was a very fine morning.
When all students had left his classroom, Albus walked over to the table by the window and inspected the needles Miss McGonagall had left behind more closely.
He couldn't find fault with any of them. He even pricked his finger with one of them.
"My, my…" he muttered.
The only student he could remember to have ever done a similar feat in his very first lesson was currently standing right here with his bleeding finger pressed to his lips.
Actually, he wasn't completely sure if he had transformed his match completely or only most of it. He certainly couldn't remember doing a whole bunch of them. For a split second he wondered what the Daily Prophet would say to the great Albus Dumbledore being thoroughly outdone by an eleven-year-old student. Now that was a headline he would actually enjoy reading.
He had considered telling Miss McGonagall what she had achieved but had decided against it. High praise like that was a double-edged sword. No one knew that better than he did. He didn't think it wise to put so much pressure on the girl. She seemed quite capable of doing that all on her own.
A sharp knock on the window interrupted his musings. A large barn owl was impatiently waiting for him to let it in. Wary of another letter from the Ministry, Dumbledore took his time opening the window. When he freed the scroll of parchment from the owl's leg, he quickly recognised Nicholas' narrow handwriting and smiled.
Perhaps he would have something enjoyable to read tonight after all.