Post by nemi on Jan 28, 2006 20:04:53 GMT -5
A/N: This is my first fanfic on here, although not my first fanfic altogether... Some of you may have read this; it's here for those of you who haven't, and perhaps for people to read again! My writing's changed a lot since I wrote this, so if you haven't read any of my fics, take into account that this was published about a year and a half ago ^^" Please read and review!
Title: Summer with a Twist
Summary: When Harry is sent to stay with Minerva for the summer, he finds it hard to believe that his hostess is his Transfiguration professor. Will Harry succeed in making the rest of Hogwarts think the same - and will Minerva find love on the way?
Set in the summer after Harry's fifth year.
Rating: PG13/12A/T
Chapter One: A Summer Like No Other
"Really, Professor, does he have to stay with those wretched Muggles? He can't stay with us – we're going to Egypt, and Hermione and her family are going to France. If it's about this 'protection' thing you keep waffling on about then why can't he stay with one of us? One of the people in the Order? We can't be that bad! After all, most of us are unmarried with no children! Remus is… Tonks is… Snape is – not that you can put him with Snape. Please, Professor Dumbledore, don't put him through that hell again. They hate him!"
"Alright, Molly, alright," Albus Dumbledore sighed. "I'll see what we can do."
Molly Weasley grinned and grabbed her luggage. "Make sure you do."
"Have a nice time in Egypt."
"Thank you, Professor."
Molly left and joined her husband and children in the waiting Ministry cars outside, and Dumbledore sighed. What was he going to do? He'd have to organise a conference with the Order of the Phoenix, to see who could take Harry in for the summer. He had to agree that Molly had a point. Living with the Dursleys was hell for Harry and would be for anyone. They hated witches and wizards and treated Harry like dirt. He sighed. Molly was right. He'd have to find another summer residence for him.
"Right, please stand up if you are single and childless."
Everyone in the Order stood.
"If you have any objections to Harry staying with you, please say so," Albus continued.
"He can't stay with me, for obvious reasons," Remus said automatically.
"You can sit down."
"He's not staying with me," Snape snarled.
"You can sit down." He wasn't going to make Harry stay with Snape.
"I live close to the Dursleys," Arabella Figg pointed out. "And their son often passes my house. Besides, I don't think he likes the cats."
"You can sit down."
"He can't stay with me or Mad-eye; we do too much Order work," said Tonks.
"You two can sit down." He nodded to her, as well as Mad-eye Moody. "Mundungus and Kingsley, that applies for you as well." He looked around. "That leaves only you and I, Minerva."
"I don't think he'd have much fun staying with me," Minerva said quietly.
"He'd have more fun than with those Muggles," Tonks interjected.
"What about you?" Minerva asked. "Wouldn't he be able to stay with you?"
"I'm sure he'd prefer to stay with you than he would me, even if you think he wouldn't have any fun. After last term's events, I don't think he trusts me enough." He raised his eyebrows.
I suppose I can't really deny him that, she thought, after all he's been through. And Nymphadora – Tonks – is right. Anything's better than the Dursleys. Anything. Minerva sighed. "Alright. I'll do it, but if he comes back bored stiff, I warned you."
---------------
"Holidays now," Dumbledore said cheerfully to Harry.
"Good for you," Harry grumbled. "You and everyone else get to stay here while I'm stuck with the Dursleys. I should be the one knowing these things, if anyone. You know I hate the Dursleys."
"You're not staying with your aunt and uncle this year, Harry."
Harry raised one eyebrow. "Oh?"
"You'll be staying with Professor McGonagall."
Harry's jaw dropped as far as it could go. "Professor McGonagall?"
"You will enjoy yourself," Dumbledore assured him.
"Yeah, right," Harry muttered when Dumbledore looked away.
----------------
"Well, this is it," Minerva said to Harry as she stopped in front of her house.
"It's huge!" Harry gasped. It was. The ancestral home of the McGonagalls was a huge castle, just a little smaller than Hogwarts.
Minerva smiled. "It's even bigger inside." She led him into the castle. "The living room is there." She pointed. "And there is the kitchen, the dining room, and your room is up two flights of stairs and the first room on the right-hand side."
"Woah."
Minerva laughed, and Harry frowned lightly. He'd never heard her laugh before.
"You'd best be going to bed," Minerva told him. "I always get up early on Sundays, and unless you want to be here on your own while I'm outside, you'd better get a good night's sleep."
Bewildered, Harry nodded and climbed the stairs. Perhaps Dumbledore was right – perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all. He looked around the room. It had certainly been prepared well. His belongings were all neatly placed around the room, and his pyjamas were laid out on the bed. Normally he would have slept in his boxers, but he decided against it here. With a brief smile, he changed and opened the window to let Hedwig outside. With that, he climbed into bed and fell asleep instantly.
He awoke next morning feeling fresh and ready for anything. He changed into a white t-shirt and jeans, and pulled on his trainers. He picked up his glasses from the bedside table and tried unsuccessfully to flatten his hair. He then made his way down the first flight of stairs and then the second, before entering the kitchen, eager for breakfast. Professor McGonagall was no one in sight, but there was a woman sitting at the kitchen table. She had long black hair and was wearing a loose cotton t-shirt and cropped trousers. He had no idea who she was, but assumed she was a relative of Professor McGonagall's.
"Excuse me?" he asked nervously. "Is Professor McGonagall here?"
She stared at him blankly.
"Is Professor McGonagall here anywhere?" he asked again, wondering if she understood him or not.
She was silent for a moment, before bursting into laughter. "Oh, Potter, for goodness sake! Don't you recognise me?"
Harry gaped. "P-Professor McGonagall?" he breathed, embarrassed.
"It's alright, you've never seen me with my hair down so it's natural." She waved her hand and a plate of bacon and eggs appeared on the table. "Help yourself." Harry sat down as quietly as he could and started eating. "We'll be leaving in about half an hour."
"Where are we going?" Harry asked.
"I usually go hiking."
"Hiking? Where to?"
"Around and about. There are plenty fields and mountains around here." She looked outside. "I'd bring something to cool you down if I were you; it looks boiling outside."
Harry nodded briefly. He was sure that someone had tied Professor McGonagall up and stolen her voice. "How long are we going for?"
"We'll probably get back at around three o'clock in the afternoon," Minerva replied.
Harry looked at the clock. "It's only half five now!"
Minerva laughed. "Have you never been for a mountain hike before, Potter?"
"No," he responded. "Could you call me Harry?"
"If you wish," she smiled. She stood up and took Harry's empty plate, placing it in the sink. She reached into a cupboard and took out two bottles of water, handing one to Harry. "Here, it's endless. You'll need it." Harry nodded and watched her twist her hair up into a clamp. "Do you think we need anything else?"
Harry thought for a moment. "Not as far as I know."
Minerva smiled. "Come on then."
He followed her to the back of the house, where she opened a door and stepped out into the back garden. "We can reach the fields from here." She led him to the back of the garden, where there was a dyke. She climbed over and waited for him to follow. The field stretched out in all directions, but he could see another dyke in the distance. "So, what's your favourite subject?" Minerva asked as they walked across the field.
"Defence Against the Dark Arts," Harry replied instantly.
Minerva laughed. "I imagined so. What was this club you started called?"
"Dumbledore's Army. The DA."
"Dumbledore's Army?" Minerva chuckled. "How did you think of that one?"
"It was because of Umbridge and Fudge. Umbridge wasn't teaching us anything, so Hermione suggested we start a defence club to practise spells of our level. We called it Dumbledore's Army because Umbridge was against Dumbledore and we were against her."
"How did you find your exams?"
"They were okay," Harry admitted. "But I couldn't really concentrate on Astronomy, so I suppose I didn't do very well on that."
"Actually you did," she smiled. "You passed, anyway. Professor Sinistra takes people who got an A or above." She frowned. "Why couldn't you concentrate? Was it because of Umbridge stunning me?"
"No," Harry said quickly. "I stopped concentrating before that." He was telling the truth, although his main cause for lack of concentration was indeed the fact that 'McGonagall was being stunned to death right outside the window' as Ron had put it.
"What about your Defence Against the Dark Arts exam?" Minerva continued. "I take it you found that easy."
"Yeah." Harry laughed. "I remember the look on Umbridge's face when I took my exam. I think I did quite well in that, and she wasn't happy."
"She was a Slytherin at Hogwarts," Minerva informed him.
"That explains why she gave them permission to reform but not us."
"Hmm." Minerva's nostrils flared briefly. "Why did she ban you from Quidditch?"
"I had a fight with Malfoy."
"How did it start?"
"He kept saying bad things about the Weasley family and my mum and dad," Harry said quietly.
"I'm just disgusted that she didn't do anything to Mr Malfoy."
"Don't call him that. It's unsettling."
Minerva laughed. "Unsettling?"
"Yeah. Mr Malfoy. It makes him sound like something he's not. Not many people have been on the receiving end of an argument with Malfoy. He's like a spoilt child really, if that. He called Hermione a Mudblood in our second year."
"He did not!"
"He did, and he's done it other times as well," Harry responded dryly. "I always wonder what made him so conceited."
"His father was the same," Minerva said softly, hoping that that would lighten his mood.
"Off that subject. Malfoy's not worth talking about." He looked across at her – he was only a few centimetres shorter than her. "You're asking all these questions, but you're not answering any."
"You haven't asked me any," Minerva laughed.
"Why don't you wear your hair down in class?"
"Teachers don't wear their hair down in class."
"Professor Trelawney does."
Minerva laughed. "Yes, but – "
"So why don't you?"
"If it weren't for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues, there would be many things I could say about the differences between Professor Trelawney and I."
"We're not in school now," Harry grinned. "You can say what you like about her. I don't like her either. It's all about looking beyond, but she never does."
Minerva laughed. "Sybill Trelawney is nothing less than an idiot."
"What?" Harry exclaimed.
"She's an idiot. I never liked her. You're right – it was all about looking beyond, but according to Al – Professor Dumbledore, she's only ever made two real predictions. She always tried to find out about and predict my business. There was my love life – "
"Are you married?" Harry interjected.
"I'm not supposed to tell you, but no."
"Would you like to be married?"
"Five points from Gryffindor," she said teasingly, "I will not tolerate cheek."
"Answer my question."
"Potter!" she shrieked. "I'm not Hermione Granger, I'm your teacher!"
"It's Harry," Harry protested, "and so what if you're my teacher? It doesn't make you any different to Mrs Weasley."
"You're too inquisitive for your own good, Potter."
"Harry."
"What?"
"Call me Harry."
She cast a sideways glance at him. "Don't make me get into the habit of calling you Harry in class. They'll think I've gone mental."
"Maybe you are mental." He grinned at her expression. "I'm teasing, Professor."
"Don't."
"Why? I tease Hermione."
"Hermione is not your teacher."
"Neither are you, at the moment."
"Potter – Harry – you're just like your father."
"Everyone says that."
"Everyone tells the truth. Your father was exactly like you. I'm sure that if this was 1977 and you came back in time, I'd think you were your father."
Harry had hardly noticed that they had crossed two fields and were now trekking up a mountain path. Trees enveloped the track but sunlight beamed through the leaves, making it look as though there were no trees at all. He took a sip of the water that Minerva had given him, savouring its wetness in the heat of the summer. He walked a little faster to keep up with Minerva's self-confident stride. The path began to slope upwards. All he could see now was Minerva, the path and trees. Trees, trees and more trees, with the occasional shrubbery. He snapped back into reality as Minerva shoved a bush aside to get through the path.
"I've got my mother's eyes," Harry commented as he caught up with his professor.
"Excluding that," Minerva replied, shoving things aside. "You're supposed to stand on the nettles, not hold them by their leaves and bring them down."
Harry felt a blush creeping up his neck. "Oh… sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for. I was worse than you when I went for my first hike."
"Bet you anything you were younger than me."
"I'll give you that one."
Harry snorted. "I'm more than a crap Transfiguration essay, you know."
"I never said you weren't."
"You never said I am, either."
Defeated, Minerva fell silent. Lacking a muse, Harry also stopped speaking, and just followed Minerva through the now overgrown paths, making sure to stand on the nettles. Soon the twigs, vines and stalks began to clear, and Harry found himself staring at the sky.
One eyebrow arched. "What is it you want me to see?"
"Go and stand at the edge," Minerva instructed. Harry, frowning, did as she said, and nearly fell off the edge. She grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back. "Watch it! It's a big drop." It was a big drop. The cliff sloped down into a loch, with a little shore around the edge. Harry could see right to the bottom of the water, it was so clear. "What do you think?"
Harry was speechless.
"You're impressed, then?"
Harry, still speechless, nodded.
"Come on then, we'd best get back."
"It's not three o'clock yet," Harry responded, finding his voice.
"Yes, but it took quite a while to get here and it will take the same amount of time to get back. We didn't bring any food, anyway."
Harry nodded again and they began to make their way back. "Professor?"
"Yes?"
"You still haven't answered my question."
"What question was that?" she asked suspiciously.
"Would you like to be married?"
She glared at him.
"Alright, let me rephrase it. Have you ever had a crush on someone?" he asked, fanning himself with his hand in the heat.
"A what?"
"A crush. Have you ever liked someone?"
"I've liked a lot of people," she said sarcastically.
"Romantically," Harry growled with gritted teeth.
Minerva laughed. "Once upon a time."
"Who?" he asked eagerly.
"That is none of your business."
"Please, Professor!"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
Harry sighed and gave up.
"At last, peace!" Minerva rejoiced.
"I haven't finished yet!"
Minerva sighed.
"So anyway. How come you're acting all nice with me now – "
"All nice with you?"
"Yeah. How come you're acting all nice with me now but you're always really strict in class?"
"I am a teacher, Potter – I mean Harry."
"So?"
"Teachers are not mumsy."
Harry burst out laughing.
"I wasn't joking. Besides, you asked."
"But… Professor Dumbledore is the headmaster."
"Harry, if there is one thing you should know about Professor Dumbledore, it's that he has always been and will always will be a child."
"He's not a child. Children like to spill secrets. He would have told me about the prophecy sooner."
Minerva frowned. "What prophecy?"
"He didn't tell you?" Harry exclaimed.
"Why should he?"
"I mean… you seem to be great friends."
Minerva laughed. "Carry on."
"The prophecy…" Harry cleared his throat. "The prophecy states that, basically, either Voldemort or me must die for the other one to live."
"What?"
Harry nodded.
"Oh…"
"You don't have to say anything, you know."
"Pardon?"
"Five years of being friends with Ron Weasley makes you just know when someone can't think of anything to say," Harry said quietly.
Minerva blushed.
"Did you just blush then, Professor?" Harry exclaimed.
Title: Summer with a Twist
Summary: When Harry is sent to stay with Minerva for the summer, he finds it hard to believe that his hostess is his Transfiguration professor. Will Harry succeed in making the rest of Hogwarts think the same - and will Minerva find love on the way?
Set in the summer after Harry's fifth year.
Rating: PG13/12A/T
Chapter One: A Summer Like No Other
"Really, Professor, does he have to stay with those wretched Muggles? He can't stay with us – we're going to Egypt, and Hermione and her family are going to France. If it's about this 'protection' thing you keep waffling on about then why can't he stay with one of us? One of the people in the Order? We can't be that bad! After all, most of us are unmarried with no children! Remus is… Tonks is… Snape is – not that you can put him with Snape. Please, Professor Dumbledore, don't put him through that hell again. They hate him!"
"Alright, Molly, alright," Albus Dumbledore sighed. "I'll see what we can do."
Molly Weasley grinned and grabbed her luggage. "Make sure you do."
"Have a nice time in Egypt."
"Thank you, Professor."
Molly left and joined her husband and children in the waiting Ministry cars outside, and Dumbledore sighed. What was he going to do? He'd have to organise a conference with the Order of the Phoenix, to see who could take Harry in for the summer. He had to agree that Molly had a point. Living with the Dursleys was hell for Harry and would be for anyone. They hated witches and wizards and treated Harry like dirt. He sighed. Molly was right. He'd have to find another summer residence for him.
"Right, please stand up if you are single and childless."
Everyone in the Order stood.
"If you have any objections to Harry staying with you, please say so," Albus continued.
"He can't stay with me, for obvious reasons," Remus said automatically.
"You can sit down."
"He's not staying with me," Snape snarled.
"You can sit down." He wasn't going to make Harry stay with Snape.
"I live close to the Dursleys," Arabella Figg pointed out. "And their son often passes my house. Besides, I don't think he likes the cats."
"You can sit down."
"He can't stay with me or Mad-eye; we do too much Order work," said Tonks.
"You two can sit down." He nodded to her, as well as Mad-eye Moody. "Mundungus and Kingsley, that applies for you as well." He looked around. "That leaves only you and I, Minerva."
"I don't think he'd have much fun staying with me," Minerva said quietly.
"He'd have more fun than with those Muggles," Tonks interjected.
"What about you?" Minerva asked. "Wouldn't he be able to stay with you?"
"I'm sure he'd prefer to stay with you than he would me, even if you think he wouldn't have any fun. After last term's events, I don't think he trusts me enough." He raised his eyebrows.
I suppose I can't really deny him that, she thought, after all he's been through. And Nymphadora – Tonks – is right. Anything's better than the Dursleys. Anything. Minerva sighed. "Alright. I'll do it, but if he comes back bored stiff, I warned you."
---------------
"Holidays now," Dumbledore said cheerfully to Harry.
"Good for you," Harry grumbled. "You and everyone else get to stay here while I'm stuck with the Dursleys. I should be the one knowing these things, if anyone. You know I hate the Dursleys."
"You're not staying with your aunt and uncle this year, Harry."
Harry raised one eyebrow. "Oh?"
"You'll be staying with Professor McGonagall."
Harry's jaw dropped as far as it could go. "Professor McGonagall?"
"You will enjoy yourself," Dumbledore assured him.
"Yeah, right," Harry muttered when Dumbledore looked away.
----------------
"Well, this is it," Minerva said to Harry as she stopped in front of her house.
"It's huge!" Harry gasped. It was. The ancestral home of the McGonagalls was a huge castle, just a little smaller than Hogwarts.
Minerva smiled. "It's even bigger inside." She led him into the castle. "The living room is there." She pointed. "And there is the kitchen, the dining room, and your room is up two flights of stairs and the first room on the right-hand side."
"Woah."
Minerva laughed, and Harry frowned lightly. He'd never heard her laugh before.
"You'd best be going to bed," Minerva told him. "I always get up early on Sundays, and unless you want to be here on your own while I'm outside, you'd better get a good night's sleep."
Bewildered, Harry nodded and climbed the stairs. Perhaps Dumbledore was right – perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all. He looked around the room. It had certainly been prepared well. His belongings were all neatly placed around the room, and his pyjamas were laid out on the bed. Normally he would have slept in his boxers, but he decided against it here. With a brief smile, he changed and opened the window to let Hedwig outside. With that, he climbed into bed and fell asleep instantly.
He awoke next morning feeling fresh and ready for anything. He changed into a white t-shirt and jeans, and pulled on his trainers. He picked up his glasses from the bedside table and tried unsuccessfully to flatten his hair. He then made his way down the first flight of stairs and then the second, before entering the kitchen, eager for breakfast. Professor McGonagall was no one in sight, but there was a woman sitting at the kitchen table. She had long black hair and was wearing a loose cotton t-shirt and cropped trousers. He had no idea who she was, but assumed she was a relative of Professor McGonagall's.
"Excuse me?" he asked nervously. "Is Professor McGonagall here?"
She stared at him blankly.
"Is Professor McGonagall here anywhere?" he asked again, wondering if she understood him or not.
She was silent for a moment, before bursting into laughter. "Oh, Potter, for goodness sake! Don't you recognise me?"
Harry gaped. "P-Professor McGonagall?" he breathed, embarrassed.
"It's alright, you've never seen me with my hair down so it's natural." She waved her hand and a plate of bacon and eggs appeared on the table. "Help yourself." Harry sat down as quietly as he could and started eating. "We'll be leaving in about half an hour."
"Where are we going?" Harry asked.
"I usually go hiking."
"Hiking? Where to?"
"Around and about. There are plenty fields and mountains around here." She looked outside. "I'd bring something to cool you down if I were you; it looks boiling outside."
Harry nodded briefly. He was sure that someone had tied Professor McGonagall up and stolen her voice. "How long are we going for?"
"We'll probably get back at around three o'clock in the afternoon," Minerva replied.
Harry looked at the clock. "It's only half five now!"
Minerva laughed. "Have you never been for a mountain hike before, Potter?"
"No," he responded. "Could you call me Harry?"
"If you wish," she smiled. She stood up and took Harry's empty plate, placing it in the sink. She reached into a cupboard and took out two bottles of water, handing one to Harry. "Here, it's endless. You'll need it." Harry nodded and watched her twist her hair up into a clamp. "Do you think we need anything else?"
Harry thought for a moment. "Not as far as I know."
Minerva smiled. "Come on then."
He followed her to the back of the house, where she opened a door and stepped out into the back garden. "We can reach the fields from here." She led him to the back of the garden, where there was a dyke. She climbed over and waited for him to follow. The field stretched out in all directions, but he could see another dyke in the distance. "So, what's your favourite subject?" Minerva asked as they walked across the field.
"Defence Against the Dark Arts," Harry replied instantly.
Minerva laughed. "I imagined so. What was this club you started called?"
"Dumbledore's Army. The DA."
"Dumbledore's Army?" Minerva chuckled. "How did you think of that one?"
"It was because of Umbridge and Fudge. Umbridge wasn't teaching us anything, so Hermione suggested we start a defence club to practise spells of our level. We called it Dumbledore's Army because Umbridge was against Dumbledore and we were against her."
"How did you find your exams?"
"They were okay," Harry admitted. "But I couldn't really concentrate on Astronomy, so I suppose I didn't do very well on that."
"Actually you did," she smiled. "You passed, anyway. Professor Sinistra takes people who got an A or above." She frowned. "Why couldn't you concentrate? Was it because of Umbridge stunning me?"
"No," Harry said quickly. "I stopped concentrating before that." He was telling the truth, although his main cause for lack of concentration was indeed the fact that 'McGonagall was being stunned to death right outside the window' as Ron had put it.
"What about your Defence Against the Dark Arts exam?" Minerva continued. "I take it you found that easy."
"Yeah." Harry laughed. "I remember the look on Umbridge's face when I took my exam. I think I did quite well in that, and she wasn't happy."
"She was a Slytherin at Hogwarts," Minerva informed him.
"That explains why she gave them permission to reform but not us."
"Hmm." Minerva's nostrils flared briefly. "Why did she ban you from Quidditch?"
"I had a fight with Malfoy."
"How did it start?"
"He kept saying bad things about the Weasley family and my mum and dad," Harry said quietly.
"I'm just disgusted that she didn't do anything to Mr Malfoy."
"Don't call him that. It's unsettling."
Minerva laughed. "Unsettling?"
"Yeah. Mr Malfoy. It makes him sound like something he's not. Not many people have been on the receiving end of an argument with Malfoy. He's like a spoilt child really, if that. He called Hermione a Mudblood in our second year."
"He did not!"
"He did, and he's done it other times as well," Harry responded dryly. "I always wonder what made him so conceited."
"His father was the same," Minerva said softly, hoping that that would lighten his mood.
"Off that subject. Malfoy's not worth talking about." He looked across at her – he was only a few centimetres shorter than her. "You're asking all these questions, but you're not answering any."
"You haven't asked me any," Minerva laughed.
"Why don't you wear your hair down in class?"
"Teachers don't wear their hair down in class."
"Professor Trelawney does."
Minerva laughed. "Yes, but – "
"So why don't you?"
"If it weren't for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues, there would be many things I could say about the differences between Professor Trelawney and I."
"We're not in school now," Harry grinned. "You can say what you like about her. I don't like her either. It's all about looking beyond, but she never does."
Minerva laughed. "Sybill Trelawney is nothing less than an idiot."
"What?" Harry exclaimed.
"She's an idiot. I never liked her. You're right – it was all about looking beyond, but according to Al – Professor Dumbledore, she's only ever made two real predictions. She always tried to find out about and predict my business. There was my love life – "
"Are you married?" Harry interjected.
"I'm not supposed to tell you, but no."
"Would you like to be married?"
"Five points from Gryffindor," she said teasingly, "I will not tolerate cheek."
"Answer my question."
"Potter!" she shrieked. "I'm not Hermione Granger, I'm your teacher!"
"It's Harry," Harry protested, "and so what if you're my teacher? It doesn't make you any different to Mrs Weasley."
"You're too inquisitive for your own good, Potter."
"Harry."
"What?"
"Call me Harry."
She cast a sideways glance at him. "Don't make me get into the habit of calling you Harry in class. They'll think I've gone mental."
"Maybe you are mental." He grinned at her expression. "I'm teasing, Professor."
"Don't."
"Why? I tease Hermione."
"Hermione is not your teacher."
"Neither are you, at the moment."
"Potter – Harry – you're just like your father."
"Everyone says that."
"Everyone tells the truth. Your father was exactly like you. I'm sure that if this was 1977 and you came back in time, I'd think you were your father."
Harry had hardly noticed that they had crossed two fields and were now trekking up a mountain path. Trees enveloped the track but sunlight beamed through the leaves, making it look as though there were no trees at all. He took a sip of the water that Minerva had given him, savouring its wetness in the heat of the summer. He walked a little faster to keep up with Minerva's self-confident stride. The path began to slope upwards. All he could see now was Minerva, the path and trees. Trees, trees and more trees, with the occasional shrubbery. He snapped back into reality as Minerva shoved a bush aside to get through the path.
"I've got my mother's eyes," Harry commented as he caught up with his professor.
"Excluding that," Minerva replied, shoving things aside. "You're supposed to stand on the nettles, not hold them by their leaves and bring them down."
Harry felt a blush creeping up his neck. "Oh… sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for. I was worse than you when I went for my first hike."
"Bet you anything you were younger than me."
"I'll give you that one."
Harry snorted. "I'm more than a crap Transfiguration essay, you know."
"I never said you weren't."
"You never said I am, either."
Defeated, Minerva fell silent. Lacking a muse, Harry also stopped speaking, and just followed Minerva through the now overgrown paths, making sure to stand on the nettles. Soon the twigs, vines and stalks began to clear, and Harry found himself staring at the sky.
One eyebrow arched. "What is it you want me to see?"
"Go and stand at the edge," Minerva instructed. Harry, frowning, did as she said, and nearly fell off the edge. She grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back. "Watch it! It's a big drop." It was a big drop. The cliff sloped down into a loch, with a little shore around the edge. Harry could see right to the bottom of the water, it was so clear. "What do you think?"
Harry was speechless.
"You're impressed, then?"
Harry, still speechless, nodded.
"Come on then, we'd best get back."
"It's not three o'clock yet," Harry responded, finding his voice.
"Yes, but it took quite a while to get here and it will take the same amount of time to get back. We didn't bring any food, anyway."
Harry nodded again and they began to make their way back. "Professor?"
"Yes?"
"You still haven't answered my question."
"What question was that?" she asked suspiciously.
"Would you like to be married?"
She glared at him.
"Alright, let me rephrase it. Have you ever had a crush on someone?" he asked, fanning himself with his hand in the heat.
"A what?"
"A crush. Have you ever liked someone?"
"I've liked a lot of people," she said sarcastically.
"Romantically," Harry growled with gritted teeth.
Minerva laughed. "Once upon a time."
"Who?" he asked eagerly.
"That is none of your business."
"Please, Professor!"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
Harry sighed and gave up.
"At last, peace!" Minerva rejoiced.
"I haven't finished yet!"
Minerva sighed.
"So anyway. How come you're acting all nice with me now – "
"All nice with you?"
"Yeah. How come you're acting all nice with me now but you're always really strict in class?"
"I am a teacher, Potter – I mean Harry."
"So?"
"Teachers are not mumsy."
Harry burst out laughing.
"I wasn't joking. Besides, you asked."
"But… Professor Dumbledore is the headmaster."
"Harry, if there is one thing you should know about Professor Dumbledore, it's that he has always been and will always will be a child."
"He's not a child. Children like to spill secrets. He would have told me about the prophecy sooner."
Minerva frowned. "What prophecy?"
"He didn't tell you?" Harry exclaimed.
"Why should he?"
"I mean… you seem to be great friends."
Minerva laughed. "Carry on."
"The prophecy…" Harry cleared his throat. "The prophecy states that, basically, either Voldemort or me must die for the other one to live."
"What?"
Harry nodded.
"Oh…"
"You don't have to say anything, you know."
"Pardon?"
"Five years of being friends with Ron Weasley makes you just know when someone can't think of anything to say," Harry said quietly.
Minerva blushed.
"Did you just blush then, Professor?" Harry exclaimed.
keep up the great work, great story line 
