Post by Sensiblyquirky on Sept 15, 2004 12:15:45 GMT -5
Ok, Ginger Newts and I came up with chatting one evening and though I wrote it she needs to be credited for some great ideas and her input! Thanks, meredith!!
And special thanks to woo-fish for giving us the nicknames at the end!!
Part One:
“Hold your arm out this way,” Minerva McGonagall instructed Harry during one of their weekly Auror training sessions.
“That’s what I’m doing…Professor,” Harry added quickly. The last couple of sessions had not gone so well and Harry was getting frustrated. Still angry about the prophecy and the whole of last year Harry had not yet learned to control his emotions, and they often came out in anger. Sensing he was a bit touchy tonight McGonagall decided to stop the session, “Sit, Potter.”
Doing as instructed Minerva pulled up a chair across from him, “What’s on your mind, Harry.”
Looking up he was shocked, Harry was sure that was the first time she had ever called him by his first name, “Nothing.”
“Your mind has not been on the task at hand this entire week, and that extends to the classroom. Now, you don’t have to tell me but I’m here to listen,” McGonagall replied in a gentle voice. Harry remembered only hearing that voice when she told him and Ron that Hermione had been petrified in their second year.
“Professor, how much has Professor Dumbledore told you,” he asked quietly.
Letting out a small sigh Minerva said, “Everything.”
“Even the prophecy,” Harry asked, a hint of anger reappearing in his voice.
“Yes, Harry.”
“So he told you, and who else? He told everybody but me when it was about me!” Harry shouted losing his temper.
“Sit back down, Mr. Potter! The Headmaster only informed me of the prophecy after he had informed you last year,” McGonagall replied her voice rising and firm once again.
Still huffing Harry sat back down mumbling under his breath.
“What was that, Harry? I couldn’t quite hear you,” McGonagall asked setting her piercing gaze on him.
“I said he never tells me anything, chose not too tell me, then just sat there as if Sirius’ death didn’t mean anything to him. He doesn’t care as long as we all fit into his little game. He doesn’t care if he kills people, slowly. Shutting Sirius up, and then he just lets Snape say and do whatever he wants. He doesn’t care as long as it fits into the web he’s created,” Harry said clearly looking her straight in the eye as if challenging her to disagree.
“That is not true, Harry. He cares for you more than you know, and he would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. He didn’t tell you, because he wanted you to be happy for a time. The burden you carry is not one many grown men could, Harry, and he wanted to give you time to make friends you could lean on when the time came for you to carry it. As to Sirius, his death did matter to Professor Dumbledore.”
“Then why didn’t he show it,” Harry asked in a strained voice as his neck muscles pulsed.
“Why don’t many people, Harry? Professor Dumbledore prefers to grieve in private, and he has the right to.”
That was evidently not the right thing to say, “So what? I’m weak for being upset when he could see me?” Harry bellowed.
“You are most certainly not weak, Harry. You had just lost your Godfather it is only natural that you would be upset, but Albus, also, knew he needed to tell you some things. He wanted to be clear of mind.”
“So I’m not clear of mind,” he asked fuming.
“Stop twisting everything I say, and to be honest no you are not. I don’t let many students yell at me, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall replied in a firm but still gentle voice.
Wanting to take his anger out on someone Harry turned on McGonagall, “You always defend him, don’t you?”
“I defend what I believe in, Harry.”
“Yea, sure, but it is always him.”
“Your point, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall asked coolly trying to keep her temper.
“My point, you want to know what my point is. I bet you’re in love with him. Blinded so you can’t see that he makes mistakes that he SCREWED UP!! How does it feel Professor, to love a man who doesn’t love you back? But then who could? You try to be all nice now, but the only reason you are down here is because you wanted to get at Umbitch, and you would feel bad if you didn’t keep your word. Want to know what everybody thinks of you? All your students see you as a lonely, old spinster. Always crabby; just want to make our lives as miserable as possible! You never have fun, and you don’t want us to either. Don’t try to act all nice to me. I’ve had enough of people pretending to be who they aren’t whenever the famous Harry Potter comes around,” Harry screamed at her kicking a desk as he paced around the room.
Coming to stop in front of her Harry was still seething, and Minerva waited for the next onslaught. No one had ever said something so mean to her before, and she was desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.
Seeing that he wasn’t going to say anything, McGonagall said, “I had no idea you had such a low opinion of me, Mr. Potter,” and getting up to move to the window she added, “You may go.”
Harry headed immediately for the door, and looked back at McGonagall one last time. He was surprised to see her shoulders slumped and her hand over her forehead, “Professor,” he asked quietly.
When she did not answer he quickly took his leave.
As the door clicked shut Minerva burst into tears. She knew she wasn’t the favorite teacher in the school, but she had no idea she was hated to such an extent. To think all these years she had wanted to hold Harry or take him with her during the summer and he hated her. Sitting down at her desk Minerva cried like she had not cried in a long time. Looking back she recalled how she slept at his bedside for two nights during his first year, holding his small hand. She remembered sneaking into the Dursley house as a cat to check up on him for the years he was not at Hogwarts. She did it again during his third year, before he left his relatives’ house. In his fourth year she snuck down to see him when everyone was asleep after the tournament. Placing a gentle kiss to his forehead, and sitting with him for awhile before Albus forced her to go back to bed; and this summer she had spent several nights as a cat lying with him as he slept knowing of the nightmares he would have. She always left before he awoke, and stayed up most of the night to keep watch.
Leaving her office Minerva hurried to her chambers hoping not to be seen by any Professors that could still be out in the corridors. ‘Oh, how I wish Albus was here,’ she thought to herself. ‘He would hold me and tell me he didn’t mean it, and he would rub my back and place sweet kisses on my face, and he would tell me over and over again how much he loved me.’ She needed him more than ever now, and he was away on business.
Slipping into bed she placed a quick kiss on the empty pillow beside of her where his head should have been, and whispered: “I love you, Albus. Be safe, and come home quickly; I need you.”
Harry didn’t sleep well that night. He kept thinking of what he had said to Professor McGonagall, and he knew he was over the line. He was just so mad, and he didn’t know how to go about apologizing to her. Harry decided to just wait and see how she reacted to being near him during the day. Harry watched her carefully during breakfast, and he noticed how she didn’t look liker her usual self, in fact she looked sad. She spoke to no one at breakfast, and was gone as quickly as she had come.
Transfigurations was much worse. McGonagall didn’t even look at the three of them, and she was off the whole lesson. All the students kept looking at one another as if someone would have known why their strict teacher was suddenly so sad, and much less brisk.
As they left the classroom Hermione looked distressed, “What is wrong with Professor McGonagall, she looked so sad. Do you think we should talk to her?”
“Heavens no, Hermione,” Ron said, “she would probably bite our heads off.”
“No she wouldn’t. I’ve talked to her outside of class, and she is very understanding and very nice. I think she would appreciate it that we cared!” Hermione said forcefully glaring at Ron.
“Harry, mate, help me out,” Ron pleaded but Harry wasn’t paying any attention.
“Harry! Harry! HARRY!” Ron and Hermione shouted. “What?!” Harry asked looking up.
“You weren’t paying attention we were talking about McGonagall, and if we should ask her what is wrong,” Hermione said looking worriedly at him.
“I wouldn’t ask,” was all he said. Ron grinned and looked at Hermione with an “Ah-ha!” expression on his face, but Hermione was looking at Harry.
“Harry, what is wrong? You know don’t you?”
“What are you talking about,” Harry asked trying to look innocent. He failed.
“Wait! Last night you had your training with her, what did you say?” Hermione asked looking very upset that her best friend could be mean to her favorite teacher.
“Um…well…it wasn’t…I mean…” Harry stammered.
“What did you say,” Hermione asked giving him a very “McGonagall” look at the moment. So Harry recounted exactly what had happened, and he swore at the end of it Hermione was going to slap him. “Apologize!”
“When,” Harry asked.
“Now, she is probably in her chambers. You know where they are. Now go, and don’t come back unless we have a happier Head of House. I mean it Harry, or I’ll hex you into the middle of next year,” Hermione threatened and he knew she meant it.
And special thanks to woo-fish for giving us the nicknames at the end!!
Part One:
“Hold your arm out this way,” Minerva McGonagall instructed Harry during one of their weekly Auror training sessions.
“That’s what I’m doing…Professor,” Harry added quickly. The last couple of sessions had not gone so well and Harry was getting frustrated. Still angry about the prophecy and the whole of last year Harry had not yet learned to control his emotions, and they often came out in anger. Sensing he was a bit touchy tonight McGonagall decided to stop the session, “Sit, Potter.”
Doing as instructed Minerva pulled up a chair across from him, “What’s on your mind, Harry.”
Looking up he was shocked, Harry was sure that was the first time she had ever called him by his first name, “Nothing.”
“Your mind has not been on the task at hand this entire week, and that extends to the classroom. Now, you don’t have to tell me but I’m here to listen,” McGonagall replied in a gentle voice. Harry remembered only hearing that voice when she told him and Ron that Hermione had been petrified in their second year.
“Professor, how much has Professor Dumbledore told you,” he asked quietly.
Letting out a small sigh Minerva said, “Everything.”
“Even the prophecy,” Harry asked, a hint of anger reappearing in his voice.
“Yes, Harry.”
“So he told you, and who else? He told everybody but me when it was about me!” Harry shouted losing his temper.
“Sit back down, Mr. Potter! The Headmaster only informed me of the prophecy after he had informed you last year,” McGonagall replied her voice rising and firm once again.
Still huffing Harry sat back down mumbling under his breath.
“What was that, Harry? I couldn’t quite hear you,” McGonagall asked setting her piercing gaze on him.
“I said he never tells me anything, chose not too tell me, then just sat there as if Sirius’ death didn’t mean anything to him. He doesn’t care as long as we all fit into his little game. He doesn’t care if he kills people, slowly. Shutting Sirius up, and then he just lets Snape say and do whatever he wants. He doesn’t care as long as it fits into the web he’s created,” Harry said clearly looking her straight in the eye as if challenging her to disagree.
“That is not true, Harry. He cares for you more than you know, and he would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. He didn’t tell you, because he wanted you to be happy for a time. The burden you carry is not one many grown men could, Harry, and he wanted to give you time to make friends you could lean on when the time came for you to carry it. As to Sirius, his death did matter to Professor Dumbledore.”
“Then why didn’t he show it,” Harry asked in a strained voice as his neck muscles pulsed.
“Why don’t many people, Harry? Professor Dumbledore prefers to grieve in private, and he has the right to.”
That was evidently not the right thing to say, “So what? I’m weak for being upset when he could see me?” Harry bellowed.
“You are most certainly not weak, Harry. You had just lost your Godfather it is only natural that you would be upset, but Albus, also, knew he needed to tell you some things. He wanted to be clear of mind.”
“So I’m not clear of mind,” he asked fuming.
“Stop twisting everything I say, and to be honest no you are not. I don’t let many students yell at me, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall replied in a firm but still gentle voice.
Wanting to take his anger out on someone Harry turned on McGonagall, “You always defend him, don’t you?”
“I defend what I believe in, Harry.”
“Yea, sure, but it is always him.”
“Your point, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall asked coolly trying to keep her temper.
“My point, you want to know what my point is. I bet you’re in love with him. Blinded so you can’t see that he makes mistakes that he SCREWED UP!! How does it feel Professor, to love a man who doesn’t love you back? But then who could? You try to be all nice now, but the only reason you are down here is because you wanted to get at Umbitch, and you would feel bad if you didn’t keep your word. Want to know what everybody thinks of you? All your students see you as a lonely, old spinster. Always crabby; just want to make our lives as miserable as possible! You never have fun, and you don’t want us to either. Don’t try to act all nice to me. I’ve had enough of people pretending to be who they aren’t whenever the famous Harry Potter comes around,” Harry screamed at her kicking a desk as he paced around the room.
Coming to stop in front of her Harry was still seething, and Minerva waited for the next onslaught. No one had ever said something so mean to her before, and she was desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.
Seeing that he wasn’t going to say anything, McGonagall said, “I had no idea you had such a low opinion of me, Mr. Potter,” and getting up to move to the window she added, “You may go.”
Harry headed immediately for the door, and looked back at McGonagall one last time. He was surprised to see her shoulders slumped and her hand over her forehead, “Professor,” he asked quietly.
When she did not answer he quickly took his leave.
As the door clicked shut Minerva burst into tears. She knew she wasn’t the favorite teacher in the school, but she had no idea she was hated to such an extent. To think all these years she had wanted to hold Harry or take him with her during the summer and he hated her. Sitting down at her desk Minerva cried like she had not cried in a long time. Looking back she recalled how she slept at his bedside for two nights during his first year, holding his small hand. She remembered sneaking into the Dursley house as a cat to check up on him for the years he was not at Hogwarts. She did it again during his third year, before he left his relatives’ house. In his fourth year she snuck down to see him when everyone was asleep after the tournament. Placing a gentle kiss to his forehead, and sitting with him for awhile before Albus forced her to go back to bed; and this summer she had spent several nights as a cat lying with him as he slept knowing of the nightmares he would have. She always left before he awoke, and stayed up most of the night to keep watch.
Leaving her office Minerva hurried to her chambers hoping not to be seen by any Professors that could still be out in the corridors. ‘Oh, how I wish Albus was here,’ she thought to herself. ‘He would hold me and tell me he didn’t mean it, and he would rub my back and place sweet kisses on my face, and he would tell me over and over again how much he loved me.’ She needed him more than ever now, and he was away on business.
Slipping into bed she placed a quick kiss on the empty pillow beside of her where his head should have been, and whispered: “I love you, Albus. Be safe, and come home quickly; I need you.”
Harry didn’t sleep well that night. He kept thinking of what he had said to Professor McGonagall, and he knew he was over the line. He was just so mad, and he didn’t know how to go about apologizing to her. Harry decided to just wait and see how she reacted to being near him during the day. Harry watched her carefully during breakfast, and he noticed how she didn’t look liker her usual self, in fact she looked sad. She spoke to no one at breakfast, and was gone as quickly as she had come.
Transfigurations was much worse. McGonagall didn’t even look at the three of them, and she was off the whole lesson. All the students kept looking at one another as if someone would have known why their strict teacher was suddenly so sad, and much less brisk.
As they left the classroom Hermione looked distressed, “What is wrong with Professor McGonagall, she looked so sad. Do you think we should talk to her?”
“Heavens no, Hermione,” Ron said, “she would probably bite our heads off.”
“No she wouldn’t. I’ve talked to her outside of class, and she is very understanding and very nice. I think she would appreciate it that we cared!” Hermione said forcefully glaring at Ron.
“Harry, mate, help me out,” Ron pleaded but Harry wasn’t paying any attention.
“Harry! Harry! HARRY!” Ron and Hermione shouted. “What?!” Harry asked looking up.
“You weren’t paying attention we were talking about McGonagall, and if we should ask her what is wrong,” Hermione said looking worriedly at him.
“I wouldn’t ask,” was all he said. Ron grinned and looked at Hermione with an “Ah-ha!” expression on his face, but Hermione was looking at Harry.
“Harry, what is wrong? You know don’t you?”
“What are you talking about,” Harry asked trying to look innocent. He failed.
“Wait! Last night you had your training with her, what did you say?” Hermione asked looking very upset that her best friend could be mean to her favorite teacher.
“Um…well…it wasn’t…I mean…” Harry stammered.
“What did you say,” Hermione asked giving him a very “McGonagall” look at the moment. So Harry recounted exactly what had happened, and he swore at the end of it Hermione was going to slap him. “Apologize!”
“When,” Harry asked.
“Now, she is probably in her chambers. You know where they are. Now go, and don’t come back unless we have a happier Head of House. I mean it Harry, or I’ll hex you into the middle of next year,” Hermione threatened and he knew she meant it.
Why would Albus call Minny a word that means "whore?" And in front of Harry? I think this story is okay, but...not understanding here...hmm.
...
even though Ron and Harry probably envision her as one. 
