Post by childminerva on Aug 16, 2006 15:39:40 GMT -5
Meant to Be
Summary:Minerva has been teaching at Hogwarts for a few years when she finds herself falling in love with the headmaster. A romance appears to be in her future when an accident brings an old flame back into her life and her heart.
Rated: 11+ for now.
I'm not sure about the title-let me know what you think about it. If you like it let me know; if not I'd welcome some suggestions before I post this fic on ff.net. Also, I've never written a drama like this esp. in the flashback format-so we'll see how this goes!
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Minerva McGonagall flew through the cool May air, her crimson and gold quidditch robes flapping behind her in the wind. The Gryffindor Seeker had just signaled to her that the snitch was in his sights. As the message was secretly passed to the entire team, Minerva took a moment to glance at the score. Slytherin two hundred and sixty, Gryffindor one hundred and ten.
They needed to score once more before taking the snitch or they would be tied with Slytherin. But they needed to do it quickly so that the snitch didn’t get away. She looked around at her team; they could do it.
Minerva heard someone fly up behind her; it was Alastor Moody, her co-captain, looking handsome in his crimson robes.
“Porskoff Ploy,” he whispered to her, his mouth mere centimeters from her ear, sending shivers down her spine, before flying away again.
Minerva wanted to tell him not to be stupid, that they’d never practiced this move with the team, but he was too far away to hear her without letting others know what he was planning.
With no time to lose, Minerva began to descend, careful to keep an eye on the players above.
As she flew below, Alastor gave his trademark yell, the one he gave before rushing the opposing Keeper and scoring a goal for his team. He took possession of the quaffle from a Slytherin Chaser and shot down the length of the quidditch pitch. The entire Slytherin team, save for the Seeker, converged upon Alastor, none of them noticing that twenty feet below Minerva had just caught the quaffle deliberately dropped by Alastor.
To the cheers of the spectators, Minerva swiftly made her way to the goal posts and scored her team ten points. On cue, the Gryffindor Seeker sped forward and grabbed the snitch from beneath the Slytherin stands.
The pitch erupted in sound as the Gryffindors won. Minerva laughed happily and yanked the ribbon from her hair, allowing her long black tresses to fall freely and flutter in the wind. She turned on her broom to see Alastor rushing towards her, arms outstretched.
They embraced as Alastor shouted, “We did it Min! We did it!”
Cupping her cheek with his hand he leaned forward to kiss her but she pushed him back.
“Not in front of the entire school you idiot,” she whispered furiously, glancing over at the box of professors.
“Why not?” he asked, his deep brown eyes dancing with excitement. “Everyone knows we’re together, besides, it’s our seventh year and I want everyone to know that I’m in love with the best looking quidditch player in the world.”
The stadium was again filled with cheers and whistling as Minerva gave in and promptly forgot all about the hundreds of people watching.
-
Twelve years later, Minerva was so absorbed in grading the essays before her that she did not hear the knock on her office door.
“Minerva.”
Startled, Minerva dropped her quill and looked up into the clear blue eyes of her boss and former professor. At the moment those blue eyes were twinkling with amusement and Minerva felt herself blush.
Secretly, Minerva feared this blush sprung from being so close to the headmaster than from the innocent reason of being caught so immersed in work that she didn’t hear him until he was right in front of her.
“Minerva,” said Albus Dumbledore softly, “breakfast will begin shortly, I wouldn’t want you to miss it again.”
“No, not again,” she said, laughing sheepishly, standing up and abandoning her grading. “I just get so caught up in my work.”
“Yes, you always did,” he replied, laughing now.
Minerva tensed and lost her smile, reminded that he had been, not so long ago, her professor and that the increasing enjoyment she found in his company was highly inappropriate. He was after all, so much older than her, not to mention her employer.
Minerva did not like to admit it, but she couldn’t lie to herself; she had developed a crush on Albus Dumbledore. She tried desperately but without success to stop her heart from rising as he offered her his arm and walked by her side down to the Great Hall.
-
Later that morning, Minerva found herself looking forward to the end of a sixth year Transfiguration lesson. She was trying to teach her students how to transfigure a fork into a raven, but none of the Hufflepuffs could seem to get it right.
“Professor!” the petite sixth year had to shout to make herself heard over the din caused by a room full of Hufflepuffs and semi-transfigured ravens.
“Yes, Miss Muir?” said Minerva, moving closer to better hear her student, deftly dodging the droppings of a bird whose feathers still resembled the tines of a fork.
Lucy Muir blushed shyly as the pretty Transfiguration teacher stood before her, wearing a quizzical look.
“There’s an owl at the window, Professor,” she said softly. She pointed to the window at her left where a large tawny owl was tapping its beak against the glass, unnoticed by anyone else in the busy classroom.
“Oh, I see! Thank you Miss Muir, and congratulations on your successful transfiguration.”
Lucy blushed again as Minerva unlatched the window and accepted the scroll of parchment from the owl who promptly flew away again once its burden was removed.
Minerva frowned; the seal on the parchment bore the crest of St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It was addressed to Professor Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts School. Above this was a single word, Urgent!
Summary:Minerva has been teaching at Hogwarts for a few years when she finds herself falling in love with the headmaster. A romance appears to be in her future when an accident brings an old flame back into her life and her heart.
Rated: 11+ for now.
I'm not sure about the title-let me know what you think about it. If you like it let me know; if not I'd welcome some suggestions before I post this fic on ff.net. Also, I've never written a drama like this esp. in the flashback format-so we'll see how this goes!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Minerva McGonagall flew through the cool May air, her crimson and gold quidditch robes flapping behind her in the wind. The Gryffindor Seeker had just signaled to her that the snitch was in his sights. As the message was secretly passed to the entire team, Minerva took a moment to glance at the score. Slytherin two hundred and sixty, Gryffindor one hundred and ten.
They needed to score once more before taking the snitch or they would be tied with Slytherin. But they needed to do it quickly so that the snitch didn’t get away. She looked around at her team; they could do it.
Minerva heard someone fly up behind her; it was Alastor Moody, her co-captain, looking handsome in his crimson robes.
“Porskoff Ploy,” he whispered to her, his mouth mere centimeters from her ear, sending shivers down her spine, before flying away again.
Minerva wanted to tell him not to be stupid, that they’d never practiced this move with the team, but he was too far away to hear her without letting others know what he was planning.
With no time to lose, Minerva began to descend, careful to keep an eye on the players above.
As she flew below, Alastor gave his trademark yell, the one he gave before rushing the opposing Keeper and scoring a goal for his team. He took possession of the quaffle from a Slytherin Chaser and shot down the length of the quidditch pitch. The entire Slytherin team, save for the Seeker, converged upon Alastor, none of them noticing that twenty feet below Minerva had just caught the quaffle deliberately dropped by Alastor.
To the cheers of the spectators, Minerva swiftly made her way to the goal posts and scored her team ten points. On cue, the Gryffindor Seeker sped forward and grabbed the snitch from beneath the Slytherin stands.
The pitch erupted in sound as the Gryffindors won. Minerva laughed happily and yanked the ribbon from her hair, allowing her long black tresses to fall freely and flutter in the wind. She turned on her broom to see Alastor rushing towards her, arms outstretched.
They embraced as Alastor shouted, “We did it Min! We did it!”
Cupping her cheek with his hand he leaned forward to kiss her but she pushed him back.
“Not in front of the entire school you idiot,” she whispered furiously, glancing over at the box of professors.
“Why not?” he asked, his deep brown eyes dancing with excitement. “Everyone knows we’re together, besides, it’s our seventh year and I want everyone to know that I’m in love with the best looking quidditch player in the world.”
The stadium was again filled with cheers and whistling as Minerva gave in and promptly forgot all about the hundreds of people watching.
-
Twelve years later, Minerva was so absorbed in grading the essays before her that she did not hear the knock on her office door.
“Minerva.”
Startled, Minerva dropped her quill and looked up into the clear blue eyes of her boss and former professor. At the moment those blue eyes were twinkling with amusement and Minerva felt herself blush.
Secretly, Minerva feared this blush sprung from being so close to the headmaster than from the innocent reason of being caught so immersed in work that she didn’t hear him until he was right in front of her.
“Minerva,” said Albus Dumbledore softly, “breakfast will begin shortly, I wouldn’t want you to miss it again.”
“No, not again,” she said, laughing sheepishly, standing up and abandoning her grading. “I just get so caught up in my work.”
“Yes, you always did,” he replied, laughing now.
Minerva tensed and lost her smile, reminded that he had been, not so long ago, her professor and that the increasing enjoyment she found in his company was highly inappropriate. He was after all, so much older than her, not to mention her employer.
Minerva did not like to admit it, but she couldn’t lie to herself; she had developed a crush on Albus Dumbledore. She tried desperately but without success to stop her heart from rising as he offered her his arm and walked by her side down to the Great Hall.
-
Later that morning, Minerva found herself looking forward to the end of a sixth year Transfiguration lesson. She was trying to teach her students how to transfigure a fork into a raven, but none of the Hufflepuffs could seem to get it right.
“Professor!” the petite sixth year had to shout to make herself heard over the din caused by a room full of Hufflepuffs and semi-transfigured ravens.
“Yes, Miss Muir?” said Minerva, moving closer to better hear her student, deftly dodging the droppings of a bird whose feathers still resembled the tines of a fork.
Lucy Muir blushed shyly as the pretty Transfiguration teacher stood before her, wearing a quizzical look.
“There’s an owl at the window, Professor,” she said softly. She pointed to the window at her left where a large tawny owl was tapping its beak against the glass, unnoticed by anyone else in the busy classroom.
“Oh, I see! Thank you Miss Muir, and congratulations on your successful transfiguration.”
Lucy blushed again as Minerva unlatched the window and accepted the scroll of parchment from the owl who promptly flew away again once its burden was removed.
Minerva frowned; the seal on the parchment bore the crest of St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It was addressed to Professor Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts School. Above this was a single word, Urgent!
I can imagine her in the gold and scarlet uniform, nice Idea to give her the position of a chaser! 
