A loud knock on the door reverberated around the entrance hall. The oak door swung open, giving out a long squeak. Minerva stopped in her tracks, waiting in anticipation. Where she expected a group of children to show up, she found someone completely different. Sensing potential danger, the witch's hand instinctively reached for her wand, awaiting the stranger's next move.
A tall, well-built man walked through the doorway; his face lit from below by the lantern he held in his right hand. His menacing appearance caused Minerva to instinctively take a step back, to create a safe distance between her and the newcomer. Before she asked about his name, the man spoke in an unexpectedly cheerful tone.
"Oi, it's yeh! Couldn' believe me ears when Professor Dumbledore said yeh'd come back ter teach. And here yeh are!"
The wizard kids that Minerva had been waiting for sneaked into the hall, creating a half-circle behind the man's back. Meanwhile, he went on.
"Professor McGonagall – has a nice sound ter it, eh? It's so good ter see yeh…" Still getting no response, the man spread his arms in encouragement. "Oh, c'mon – it's me!"
With the lantern light out of the way, the witch was able to see his face more clearly. However, it still took her a moment or two to recognize the familiar features. No wonder – last time they saw each other, he was still a schoolboy.
"Hagrid," said Minerva, which earned her a lively nod. His heartfelt hug nearly crushed her ribs. "It is you, but – but you've grown!"
The witch looked him up from head to toe. There was no mistake that Hagrid wasn't the boy she remembered her graduation day. The man was now almost twice her hight. His shoulders widened to the point that there were muscle outlines visible from under his clothes. His dark hair covered his ears, and she could spot first facial hair on his reddish cheeks.
"Yup, all grown up now, all righ'. Tha's why Mr. Ogg let me bring the students all by meself!" Hagrid puffed his chest out in pride. His huge finger pointed at Minerva. "An' it's yer first time, too. Wha' are the odds, am I righ'?"
She leaned sideways to glance behind Hagrid's back. The first years were waiting for her, listening to the adults' exchange with decreasing attention. Some swayed on their feet, other talked in lowered voices.
"We'll catch up later," stated Minerva before Hagrid could speak another word. She addressed the students. "First years, this way!"
The young witches and wizards obediently followed. As they walked around Hagrid, some brushed the stone walls in the process. Minerva meant to comment on that but stopped herself at the last moment. Even back at school, the witch bitterly recalled, Hagrid was often seen as intimidating despite his cheerful demeanour. However, this was not the time to tell the kids to stop acting ridiculous.
"See yeh at the feast!"
Hagrid shouted after her, but Minerva didn't look back. She straightened her emerald robes, pushed open the double doors, and entered the Great Hall.
The bright candlelight partially blinded her. Regardless, she pushed forward in a swift step. While walking past the four long tables, the witch could feel everyone's eyes on her, watching her every step – every move. She forgot how it was, now used to the stealthy job of an Auror. Trying to deal with this new situation, Minerva pretended that she was on one of her missions. Her objectives were clear, with the first goal right in front of her.
Having made sure that the first years were right behind her, the witch made a sharp turn and came to a sudden halt. The group stopped, as well, forming a double row in front of the teachers' table. Wasting no time, she Accioed a four-legged stool, with the Sorting Hat on top of it.
"Careful!" whined the hat. Its crease resembled a scoff. Apparently, Minerva's catch wasn't gentle enough.
"Sorry," she whispered back, placing the Sorting Hat right before the students.
Without any preamble, it started to sing. Everyone waited patiently for it to finish. Minerva used this opportunity to glance up at the starry sky. She always loved that ceiling.
When the applause faded, the witch lifted the hat off the stool. She faced the first years, a long roll of parchment in her other hand.
"Listen up! I'm going to read your names in alphabetical order. When you're called, please sit on the stool, put on the hat, and wait. Wait until it tells you which of the four Hogwarts Houses you're sorted into." She unrolled the parchment and read out loud, "Alton, Shirley!"
A small boy reached for the Sorting Hat, his hands shaking with fear or nerves. Minerva shifted her weight from one foot to the other, waiting for the hat to shout out a name.
"SLYTHERIN!"
And then, it was her turn again.
"Birch, Drew!"
She noted how her voice was unnaturally high. The witch cleared her throat.
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
It required surprisingly great effort to read the names in a clear, steady way.
"Brown, Candice!"
The witch smiled at the sound of a familiar name. This girl had to be her co-worker's niece; Minerva assumed.
A former co-worker's, she reminded herself.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Her eyes followed the newest addition to her house.
While Minerva watched the students one by one put on the Sorting Hat, she realized how boring the Sorting ceremony was from a teacher's perspective. Her thoughts began to wander.
The witch recalled the time from many years ago when she herself was an eleven-year-old girl without a house to call her own. She later learnt that she took exceptionally long to be Sorted into one. The hat's words still resonated in her mind.
You'll need a good mentor to guide you… You already like him, don't you?
She glanced over her glasses straight at Professor Dumbledore. In his festive sky-blue robes, he looked almost exactly as on her first day at Hogwarts. Maybe except for his beard, which he now seemed to trim shorter. The corners of her lips went up on their own.
It took her several long seconds to realize that her new boss was looking back at her, smiling encouragingly. Minerva quickly looked away, eyes back at her parchment. In her haste, she read the next name on the list before the previous kid left the stool.
"Dawlish, Glen!"
Albus watched Miss Dawlish step forward, confidence written all over her face. Once the girl's entire head disappeared under the oversized wizard's hat, he refocused his gaze on Minerva.
"It feels like just yesterday she played Quidditch for Gryffindor," stated Horace from his left, correctly guessing his train of thoughts. "But look at her now. She's one of us."
Albus couldn't agree more as he watched how this girl – no, this woman – handled the most important event of the day.
Once the Sorting had ended, Minerva was free to join the rest of the teachers.
Beaming, Hagrid waved at her, showing two thumbs up. He was even harder to miss now than in his school days. Minerva raised her hand in response, unable to hide an amused smirk. Despite Hagrid's goofiness and poor sense of time, he made her feel truly welcome.
She took the empty seat right next to the Headmaster's golden chair.
"How was it?" asked Professor Dumbledore the moment she joined him.
"I forgot to tell them about the houses," she admitted in a heavy voice, ready to face the consequences. "I mean, before we entered."
"And yet, they did alright."
His matter-of-fact tone threw her off. Again, the witch had to remind herself that nobody's life depended on her following the protocol. She produced a weak smile.
"Yes."
"You did a good job," said Professor Dumbledore reassuringly. "Now's my turn."
He stood up, arms open wide, beaming at the students. Everybody went silent, waiting for him to give his first speech as the new Headmaster.
"Welcome and welcome back to Hogwarts! Let the feast begin. Tuck in!"
When he sat back down, the golden plates were full of freshly-cooked dishes.
Oh, how Minerva missed the food! Roast beef, grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, salads, at least three types of cakes… Her plate seemed too small to contain everything she wished to taste.
She only took a few bites before being drawn into a conversation.
"It is so nice to see you, my dear," said the Potions Master in a raised voice. "Let me congratulate you on your new job."
"At last, a female professor!" stated Anthony Pebbel, the Arithmancy teacher. "No witch had joined us since Galatea retired."
"Welcome to the team." Silvanus Kettleburn tipped his glass towards Minerva. She was shocked to see that he was now missing a finger. "You have some big shoes to fill."
Not knowing how to reply, the witch focused entirely on her food. After the initial greetings were over, Minerva remained relatively quiet. Listening to the others' discussions rather than joining in herself. It was a novel experience, being able to see what her teachers were like when there were no students in earshot.
Not everything was meant for her to hear.
"What did Albus think, hiring an incompetent child?"
Minerva discretely looked up. The wizard's face was unfamiliar to her. She assumed him to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor hired right after her graduation. Even though they didn't know each other – and therefore she shouldn't care what he thought – the wizard's opinion wounded her.
Once again, Professor Dumbledore got to his feet.
"Now that we're all fed and watered, allow me to give you some important notices.
"This is my first time speaking to you as the Hogwarts Headmaster after Professor Dippet's untimely passing. For years, I had the privilege to manage the school under this great wizard. We might have not agreed in every detail, and I would never dream of replacing him. However, let me assure you that I will do everything in my might to be a headmaster you all could be proud of."
There was a loud round of applause. Both the students and the staff cheered for their new headmaster, leaving no place for doubt whether they approved. Only Minerva couldn't help the pang of guilt that hit her on the chest. She still didn't get over the fact that she couldn't attend Dippet's funeral.
When the commotion quietened down, Professor Dumbledore continued.
"I am pleased to introduce Professor Minerva McGonagall, our new Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor House. I am also delighted to inform you that Professor Herbert Beery is now Deputy Headmaster. Unfortunately, Professor Beery was unable to join us today, therefore Professor McGonagall is Acting Deputy until his return tomorrow morning. Let us congratulate them both on their new positions!"
Dumbledore's clapping echoed around the hall. However, the cheering wasn't nearly as enthusiastic.
After the wizard repeated the standard set of school rules, his official speech came to an end. Before long, the Welcoming Feast was over. The students began to leave, soon followed by the teachers.
"Want me to walk you to your chambers?"
Dumbledore's courteous proposition was met with Minerva's reserved expression.
"You don't need to bother," she replied. Only once she saw the smile disappear from his face, did she realize she might have been too harsh. In a gentler tone, she added, "I've been in your office more times than I can count."
Her forced smirk was supposed to let him know she'd be fine.
"It's yours now, the office," said the Headmaster with emphasis. "I hope you'll feel at home."
Minerva nodded her gratitude. Unwilling to continue the small talk, she turned to leave.
"See you at breakfast."
"Remember your first dream in a new place," said the wizard with a mischievous wink. "It might just come true."
The witch scoffed, having hoped that Dumbledore knew her better. She never believed in superstitions.
"Goodnight, Professor."
"Albus," he corrected her.
She hesitated but then repeated after him. Calling her former teachers by their first names would certainly take some time getting used to.
Albus's eyes twinkled. She forgot how blue they were.
"Goodnight, Minerva."
When she walked alone through the empty corridors, Minerva's thoughts resolved around her interactions with Albus. She was torn between being grateful for the job of her dreams and being angry with him for not having stayed in touch despite her efforts. She couldn't figure out how to act towards him. So much had changed between them over the years, and yet he acted as if nothing ever happened. Should she do the same?
Did she want to?
After entering her new office, she found it a little underwhelming. Nothing but empty walls and most necessary furniture. She ran her hand along the mahogany desk, scanning the dusty shelves. With all of Albus's personal belongings gone, the room felt strangely impersonal. Which was a shame, considering how many memories the witch associated with this place. She'd definitely have to think about her own decorations. For starters, maybe she could put her books here instead of the bedroom…?
Her eyes were drawn to a picture hanging above the fireplace. Good old Henerick was no longer there, his portrait replaced with an older witch snorting in the canvas. Minerva noted that she'd have to introduce herself in the morning. One more thing to add to the list.
Tomorrow. She'd do everything – tomorrow.
The witch unlocked the door to her private quarters. Her things were already in there, waiting to get unpacked. She moved further inside, not really knowing what to expect. When Albus lived there, he never invited her to his living space. Except for the living room, just this once – many years ago.
A knock on the windowsill alerted her of Hermes's arrival. The ashy-faced owl that had been her trusted pet since she received the acceptance letter. The witch opened the window and extended her arm, so that Hermes could jump on and climb all the way onto her shoulder.
"This is where we live now, bud," she whispered, scratching his feathers. "What do you think? Not bad?"
The owl grazed her ear and clicked his beak merrily.
She took it as a yes.
After a quick tour, she learned that there were three separate rooms: a living room with a couch facing the fireplace, a bedroom with a comfortable-looking bed, and finally a small bathroom. For a moment, the witch and her owl stood in the doorway, contemplating on how big and well-equipped their new place was. Especially compared to the tight apartment in London, the best she could afford with her junior Auror salary.
"That's it, I'm done for today. It's sleep time. Let me get your perch."
With a wave of her wand, the witch quickly unpacked the bare essentials, like Hermes's bed and a nightgown. After giving it a second thought, she also hovered the Transfiguration notes she got from Albus to the living room table. If they lied in a visible spot, there was a lower chance that she'd forget them in the morning.
After she woke up, Minerva had a vague feeling of having dreamt about something pleasant.