Emergence of a Successor by Starry Wands
Summary: Read the account of Hogwarts through Minerva McGonagall's eyes, her friends, teachers, loves, hates, the awfully tiring but enjoyable prefectorial duties and of course, the frightful opening of the Chamber of Secrets. Who would have thought that the gawky teenager depicted in her journal would emerge as a wise and magnificent successor to the greatest headmaster ever? Slight AU in some chapters.
Categories: Historical Characters: None
Warnings: Book 7 Disregarded
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 3 Completed: No Word count: 4656 Read: 5997 Published: 06/04/07 Updated: 09/22/07

1. Chapter 1 by Starry Wands

2. Chapter 2 by Starry Wands

3. Chapter 3 by Starry Wands

Chapter 1 by Starry Wands
Author's Notes:
Note to the moderators: McGonagall may seem a little care-free in her teens, but that's the way most teens are, no matter how responsible they are. Also, she's supposed to be more studious and responsible than her friends in this. Thanks.
September 1st, 1940
10.00 pm


Fifteen is a very eventful age. At least, for my parents it is. That’s probably why I was forced into keeping a journal by them as they felt it was the ‘right’ age to record everything down.

Yes, this most definitely is me, Minerva Mildred McGonagall, inking down my very first journal entry. My name’s quite a mouthful, I know. But I’m most proud of it. Especially my middle name, because that was my grandmother’s name, and she was the first Healer in St. Mungo’s to discover a cure for the very annoying ‘scrubbled’ fingers we get sometimes when we fiddle with and wave our wands around too much, which can eventually result in loss of our fingers. Yes, Mildred McGonagall is my dear grandmother. Loved her, I did. It was of very bad luck that she passed away right before I turned eleven. Pity she didn’t even get to witness me boarding the Hogwarts Express for the first time in my life.

Ah well. I must try not to ramble, and concentrate more on the happenings, I guess.

My, was I mighty tired after the journey! Firstly, since I was the Gryffindor prefect along with Walter (Yes, a prefect! It’s been my dearest ambition since I first came to Hogwarts, which has thankfully been fulfilled), we went to the Prefects’ compartments. Evelyn, Emma and I chatted nineteen to dozen about our summer ‘adventures’, while Andy and Walter, bored to hear us girls’ incessant chatter, contented themselves by plugging their ears up and going to sleep. After they woke up (or rather, were forced awake), Emma and Walter played a game of chess while Andy slept and I challenged Evelyn to quiz me on ‘Hogwarts- A History’. I know, nobody in their right minds would have done that, but that was just the way I was.

Before I confuse you with the plethora of names, let me explain. Evelyn and I happen to be best of friends. We have known each other ever since we were born, and our families are even distantly related. Emma and Andy (that’s short for Andrew) are twins who really know no one here since they’re both Muggle-borns, so they usually are around us. It’s not that I mind or anything; their company can provide real light-hearted moments for all of us, especially their silly squabbles. But they do get annoying sometimes when Evelyn and I have our secret-sharing-sessions or the likes, which they often interrupt. It’s Walter who usually sticks to Andy like a piece of Drooble’s, but Andy doesn’t really seem to care. So that pretty much sums up why the five of us are like a close-knit group friends, all from Gryffindor.

On with the happenings again, I guess...

Hogwarts never felt so welcoming, drenched in the pale glow of the moonlight as I eagerly relished the warmth of the Great Hall. My friends and I filled the Gryffindor table with much enthusiasm and the chatting commenced.

Emma nudged me, smirking. “Prefect, eh? Must be tough coping up with the duties. But I can’t blame you, I guess. Being a prefect had always been your dream...”

“Oh, shut up,” I replied shortly. It was true; being a prefect had been my dream and my friends used to tease the skin out of me for that. I couldn’t understand. I mean, what was wrong with wanting to be a prefect? I have always admired people who took on responsibility without a single grumble (Dear old Dumbles). I hoped to be such a person, too, and being a Prefect was like a stepping stone for that).

Then dinner came, a scrumptious one by all means. I filled my whole tummy up with all sorts of goodies and made up for the burning hunger I felt back in Hogwarts Express due to lack of Galleons to buy sweets.

Dessert was a temptress in its own way, beckoning me alluringly with its rich, chocolaty look and aroma, so I gobbled it up too. You might have guessed that I’m quite fond of food by now

Rubbing my tummy contently after dinner, I kept silent till Professor Dippet (that’s our headmaster, by the way; a fine one, too) stood up and commanded silence.

He clapped his hands in a rather eager manner. “Well, well, well! A new year again! Welcome, the new ones, and to the old hands- I’m glad you’re back for yet another year of exciting journeys of knowledge! The...”

I listened keenly. I loved the way Professor Dippet spoke his welcome speech. It was meaningful, yet he spoke it without sounding like a lecture. Meanwhile, Emma and Evelyn seemed to be muttering under their breath about things which certainly had nothing to do with what Dippet was proclaiming.

“...and I am ever so pleased to announce that my close friend and great acquaintance, Albus Dumbledore, has readily agreed to resume his post as the Transfiguration Professor, from which he had previously thought of resigning...”

“Golly, old Dumbles is back!” Andy whispered in glee. I, on the other hand, frowned. I hated that nickname and I thought Professor Dumbledore certainly deserved much more respect than he was getting as the Head of Gryffindor House.

“...also, Professor Adeles will be unable to continue her post as the Herbology teacher, so she will be replaced...”

“Thank heavens she’s gone! I never liked her airs!” Evelyn muttered.

I frowned again.

“...will be immediately put in detention, and if repeated will account for expulsion of student from with the school premises...”

“That’s pretty cruel,” Walter breathed heatedly.

“Will you stop your blabbering and listen? It will do you good to know the rules and keep out of trouble for once!” I murmured crossly under my breath.

Evelyn looked at me mock-meekly. “Fine, prefect!” she crossed her arms over her chest and grinned at me. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“...and if you carry the afore-mentioned items with you, I can assure you of immediate expulsion...”

“What exactly does Lucrieta think she’ll gain if she does her hair up in this most hideous way?” Emma hissed, mainly to Evelyn.

And finally, the much-dragged, almost droning speech ended. Sadly, I did not get to listen to all of it due to the constant annoying interruptions made by my friends.

Sighing, I got up form the table. “First years, this way!” I called out heavily, dragging Walter up from his seat to help me with the prefect duties.

A bunch of fretful kids swarmed around us expectantly. I sighed again, looking at them. My first duty as a prefect in Hogwarts. I couldn’t be merrier!

Well, I guess I’m too drowsy for serious contemplations. My eyes are screaming for a break.

Good Night!

Love,
Minerva

Alright, I don’t exactly love you. That’s too strong a word. I will, though, probably after I’ve spilt all my secrets in you, That’s the only way to keep you quiet, then! For now, I prefer more subtle words like...’like’ or ‘prefer’...or ‘fancy’. But you’re not a person and it would be queer if I end my posts with ‘Prefer, Minerva’, or ‘Fancy, Minerva’. Anyway, I don’t think you really care. I could write ‘Loathe, Minerva’ and you’ll still be there, sitting shamelessly before me, flashing your leather cover and yellow parchments blatantly in my face. Because you’re not even alive. Are you?

Ah well, my bed is calling me in a most alluring way... So, once again,

Like,
Minerva.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

July 21st, 1997

Professor McGonagall leaned back into her couch and smiled, a touch of nostalgia engulfing her. Those were the good old Hogwarts days. How she missed them! Who would have thought that this gawky, ignorant teenager depicted in her journal would actually emerge to be the successor of the most powerful wizard in the planet? Had she ever imagined in her teens that she would have to stop her childhood rival from murdering those she loved? She fondly yearned for those days where the biggest worry in her mind were getting her grades up and fulfilling her duties as a prefect, and not battling the most evil soul on earth, and that too, without her mentor.

She was all alone. And she had to face and fight it.

Sighing, she felt her eyes brim at the thought of Dumbledore. To think, he had been killed. Killed! And that too, by her colleague, the one person about whom she had cleared all her suspicions due to Dumbledore’s firm belief in him; Severus Snape! She shuddered even at the mere thought.

She picked up the journal which lay open-faced on her lap, and flipped to the next entry, trying not to think of the present torture she was undergoing, but to concentrate on more light-hearted things such as her life in Hogwarts as a student.

A student, and not a senior Professor and to-be headmistress with the huge burden of living up to her incomparable predecessor crushing down on her shoulders. The years of changes she underwent lay staring at her, in her lap. Pages of growing up, words getting wiser and wiser with age.

Shaking her head, a slight, nostalgic smile unfurled as her weary eyes scanned the page.
Chapter 2 by Starry Wands
September 8th 1940
1.25pm


I know I should be ruthlessly bashed for not bothering to write for a week. But you see, the teachers here have absolutely no mercy on us, and load us with homework even in the first week. Not that there is anything wrong with that, because of course, we should be fervently preparing for our OWLs from the very beginning, but seriously, can’t teachers here have a little pity on us and let us go scot-free in our first week? Apparently not. Even Professor Dumbledore loaded us with an essay a day, and he was supposed to have somewhat more empathy than the others. And talk of History of Magic! Professor Binns had us submit nearly three essays in a day. And, topping that, we have to submit four rolls of parchment filled with uses of Wolfsbane Potion by tomorrow! Oh, the injustice of it all!

But on the bright side, Hagrid has come back. Hagrid is a half-giant, which is a secret known only by me, Evelyn, Emma, Andy, Walter and himself. He was like one of our friends, except for the fact that it was pretty awkward to be strolling in corridors with your ‘friend’, who happened to be more than twice as big as you are, yet younger, and you kept having to look up to talk to him. But still, he was considered as the little brother we (Evelyn and I) never had. Though of course, our little ‘brother’ was almost thrice as huge as us.

Back to the bright side thing. Well, I had almost thought he would decide to stay at home because of all the misery and taunts he had to endure during his second year (which was last year). But I guess Evelyn and I successfully coaxed him during the summer holidays to come back. And come back he did!

The thing with his teasing is very sad. The head of all this was, of course, the Slytherin prefect Tom Riddle. Damn him, the supposed ‘god’ of Hogwarts. I mean, practically every girl in school was crazy about him, and every boy was in awe of him. All teachers (except old Dumbles. He never liked Tom. I could never understand that...) were prepared to practically lick his feet (talk about favouritism at its height!). Everyone other than us Gryffindors, that is. Even though most of us (excluding me) did find him irresistibly good-looking and unbelievably intelligent, there was something wrong about him. Very wrong. It was in the way he talked to people like Hagrid that I observed a mad glint in his eyes. It scared me beyond anything. His look was murderous when he taunted Hagrid of being ‘oversized’. It was not normal bullying. I sensed something far more dreadful in his tone. Far more deadly.

The mere idea makes me shudder.

But my friends lost no chance in teasing me, especially after I shared my ‘mad glint’ theory with them. Take this morning at breakfast, for example.

Breakfast is always the noisiest affair of the day with all the chatter of the. Or maybe coupled with the screeching of the mail owls, it just seems extra noisy to me. Who cares, anyway?

Well, I was seated with my usual group, of course, in the Great Hall. Evelyn and Hagrid were immersed in a serious debate whether spiders should be allowed as pets to school or not, while Emma was dreamily gazing at her untouched bacon, and Andy and I were discussing the Daily Prophet, which contained the news of Henry Kay on his latest book release, while Walter was practically dozing off due to lack of sleep (he keeps having these bad dreams...I suggested a dose of Hollister’s Potion but he was too scared to use it).

And then, Riddle, damn him, had to saunter in amiably, with that ‘mad glint’ lurking dangerously in his eyes. He walked right up to Hagrid. “Spiders?” he smirked in a silky voice. “Wouldn’t be too sure if I were you...they can turn...dangerous...”

Hagrid looked up, confused. I don’t mean to be mean (no pun intended), but unintelligent is an understatement for him. He was pretty slow at getting things.

However, Evelyn, who had her temper at her nose, flared up at once. “Shut up, Riddle! I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re an unregistered Animagus, a spider does suit you!” she retorted ferociously.

Riddle was apparently taken aback at this outburst. But he got over it in a blink of an eye, and his astonishment could only be visible to keen observers like me (no blowing my own trumpet there!), and replied in a smooth voice, “Of course, Brown. But you should of course know that I prefer to...abide...by the rules?”

And then, stupid me I lost my temper and retorted as menacingly as I could, “No one gives a hoot whether you do or not, Riddle! So why don’t you go back to the Slytherin table and bask in your own glory?”

There was a slightly stunned silence. I had never spoken up against someone before, let alone this rudely. Riddle narrowed his eyes at me. “McGonagall, eh? Getting pretty bold, I see. I’d be careful if I were you.” With that, he abruptly turned back and stalked coolly to the Slytherin table.

Andy stared after him, perplexed. “What did he mean by that?”

I shook my head fervently. “I don’t know and I don’t want to, either,” I said heatedly. Riddle was getting on my nerves quite often.

Evelyn giggled. “Oh, you do, I can tell.”

I stared at her angrily. There she went again, linking me up with that...cruel...boy. “No I don’t. We all hate him. He’s evil,” I replied flatly.

“Much more than evil, if you ask me...it seems as though he was...worried. About you,” said Emma in a sly voice. Evelyn giggled again. I hated it. When were they going to learn that Riddle had no good intentions in his mind? I threw up my hands in exasperation.

“Well, I’ll leave you to think whatever you like. I, for one, am going to arrive early for Transfiguration. And you’re coming too.” Getting up, I dragged the nearest people, which happened to be Evelyn and Andy (actually it was Hagrid and Andy, but since Hagrid was too...well, heavy...I picked Evelyn), along with me. Emma and Walter immediately followed.

Transfiguration can easily pass the test and prove itself to be my very favourite subject. Especially since old Dumbles (yes, I guess I’m used to the nickname by now) was teaching. He has a way with students, you know. The way of him teaching somewhat assured us that Transfiguration was the easiest subject in the world (though some, like Emma, scorned this), and it was a very comforting feeling that no harm would befall us once we entered the classroom. Even though it’s hardly unlikely that Grindelwald would climb through the window of the classroom and kill everyone on the spot. But still. You get me.

Right?

Anyway, it’s not like you’re living, or anything, right? Because if you were, you’d be...I don’t know, what would you be doing? Probably dying of boredom due to excessive rants and grumbles and daily happenings in the life of someone you couldn’t care less about. Or maybe yelling out all my secrets into public (you BETTER not. My secrets are on their way...). Oh well.

Back to the happenings...again (I do tend to go a bit out of topic, but forgive me, I think I’m going awry).

Transfiguration went along pretty well, with me being the first one to successfully transform the bunny into a cushion. Dumbles, of course, merely smiled “ he had never congratulated a student too blatantly for fear of favouritism. Professor Slurghorn (or Sluggy, as Andy calls him) is into favouritism. Golly, he even has his ‘fan club’! The Slug Club, he calls it. Please! Makes me glad I’m not in it. Though Riddle is. Of course he is! He should be! He is, as I mentioned earlier, every teacher’s ‘dream’...Yuck! It makes me want to really vomit.

Of course I’m almost a woman so vomiting isn’t considered very lady-like.

But still. If I really feel the urge to vomit, then I can’t help it, can I?

That was very stupid of me. On with the happenings (again!)...

What happenings? Life is pretty much the same as it was last year. That is, if you don’t count the whole prefect and OWLs thing.

Speaking of prefects, my life is quite hectic. I have innumerable prefectorial duties, and Walter is slightly on the lazy side, so I have to do almost everything by myself. Which includes ticking off screeching First Years in corridors, or aggravated Third Years trying to hex each other, or, most disgustedly, as it happened today, taking care of a Second Year for belching in the corridors (I had to remain with him long after he recovered!). Seriously, all of them make me sick. I am now half-regretting my dream. Who knew prefecting (or whatever you call it) would prove to be this tough? And Walter doesn’t lessen my worries, either. But I’m really too proud to let my friends know because they’ll probably smirk their skins out! As if I already didn’t have enough people teasing me.

Sadly, I’m actually one of the most-teased people in Gryffindor (not counting Hagrid). And I’m not exactly the prettiest, either. I have these unsightly glasses which are rectangle-shaped, and ridiculously frizzy dark hair that bounces about annoyingly all the time, so I prefer to hold them back into a tight bun (my friends say I should change my hairstyle; they say it makes me look old, but I prefer to go with what I’m comfortable with). And, as an added pain, I have pimples! Nasty ones, erupting out of the blue sometimes. I don’t have a lot of them, but a couple are more than enough to make anyone’s face look like a wreck.

Topping that, I’m probably the lankiest girl in the year. I’m skinny, extremely skinny (yet, judging by my love of food, that’s very unlikely!). And frail. So you see, I’m not the kind of a girl with whom people would want to talk (save my friends. My loyal, faithful friends!). If it helps, I love books and am often found with my nose buried in one (like now, for example. I just had my lunch and am now in the library, pretending to finish my Potions essay).

Ah, I bet you have had enough of grumbles for a day. And the bell’s about to ring; we have Charms next.

Bye!

Prefer,
Minerva

By the way, lunch was delicious! Or maybe it was because I was extremely hungry. But still. I wish they serve equally delicious lunch everyday, and not just on the first week back.
Chapter 3 by Starry Wands
September 11th 1940
9.35 pm


Life’s looking up for me. I got an O (that’s Outstanding) in my Potions essay as well as my Transfiguration assignment, and an E (that’s Exceeds Expectations) in Charms. Defense Against the Dark Arts is something I’ve never really scored well in, so I was pretty surprised with my E in it. History of Magic, I scraped an E too, and so did I for the rest of the subjects. Frankly (no blowing my own trumpet), the lowest I’ve ever got is an A (that’s Acceptable), and I only got it once or twice, for Defense Against the Dark Arts, which happens to be one subject I can’t quite grasp well.

And speak of Tom Riddle. We made our ‘mad glint’ theory official by forming a group- The Anti-Riddle. The idea was put forward predictably by Andy and Emma. Really, the Weasleys (that’s the twins) have such plotting brains! Of course, the group consisted of us five, and Charlus Potter and his best friend Harfang Longbottom, Walburga Black, Alberta Brook and a couple of fourth years. Later on, some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws got word of it, and together, around fifteen of us secretly formed a club which stood for non-favouritism and equality, and of course, against Riddle.

Mainly, our goal was to prove the ‘Mad Glint Theory’(yes, it’s now capitalized) correct. We strongly suspected there was something extremely mysterious indeed going on inside the mind of his, and we just wanted to know what it was. At least, Evelyn and I did.

We met in the library, near the Restricted Section (I said near, not in) where not many people come by. Actually, the first meeting went on pretty well, with all of us sharing our encounters with Riddle. But sadly, the second time on, the atmosphere lightened and everyone ended up cracking jokes about him.

Truly, I got annoyed. I told them off, you know, even though they were my friends. I mean, this club was formed in an effort to catch Riddle red-handed doing something he ought not do, for heavens’ sake!

Anyway. The thing is, did I mention something very strange happening in the library? Well, you see, after I shooed off everyone else, I stayed back in the library to clear the mess of scrunched “ up parchments on the table (because honestly, it’s that dirty, the way my friends behave! Babies, the lot are!). The reason I said we were near the Restricted Section, and not in was that there was only a wide stained glass pane separating both portions. But the glass was very thick, so we could not exactly see what was happening in there; it appeared to be a blur.

But yesterday, I think I saw movement in there. Yes, I really did. After everyone was out. It was just me and the librarian, Madam Pauletta (who is a very good friend of mine, by the way) there. And yet, there was someone lurking about in the restricted section?

I smelt a mystery then and there. I went closer to the glass, and pressed my ear against the cool, hard surface. Everything appeared to be silent there. Yet I saw two limbs move around. It was definitely not a teacher, as I could almost make out the black Hogwarts robes around the person. It was a student.

A male, too, for I heard a cough. It definitely sounded male to me.

But then, very suddenly, the figure turned his head towards the door. I think he might have seen me just like I had seen him, because the strangest thing happened. One moment, he was frantically digging into something (his school bag?) and taking out a piece of cloth, and the next, the figure had vanished. Vanished!

I froze for a while, stunned. There was a student in the Restricted Section? The Prefect in me thought of meting out detention at once, but I guess the rationale in me ran back to Madam Paulette.

Madam Paulette is a really sweet lady. Well, to me she is, anyway. Evelyn and Andy are staunch haters of her. They call her absolutely sickening names which disgusts me so much that I do not feel the need to write down in my diary. Back to Madam Pauletta “ she’s really skinny (like me!), and wears pince-nez spectacles on her nose. She’s a pretty knowledgeable person when it comes to books; she knows and has read each and every title available in the library. And I’m the most regular visitor there.

Anyway. Back to the happenings.

I ran to her, who was sitting on the front table, doing some calculations. She looked up in surprise when she saw me running, and got up.

“Minerva! What in the world got you so scared?” she asked, astonishment written all over her face. I could imagine how she felt. Here was the usually timid and quite girl, now running as though her robes were on fire.

“Madam Pauletta,” I gasped, almost breathless. “Madam Pauletta, there’s...there’s someone at the Restricted Section.”

Pause. Then, a frown replaced her surprised look. “Now...? But the only people here were you and your friends!”

I shook my head. This was not the time for explanations; we had to catch the student before he slipped away. “It was a boy, Madam Pauletta. I heard him cough, and he was wearing the school robes. It’s most definitely a student.”

Madam Pauletta started walking very fast towards the Restricted Section. “Well, in that case, Miss Prefect, we certainly need to punish the boy,” she said, a slow smile playing at her lips.

I got disappointed, trying to keep up with her fast strides. She was probably the only person who had respected my decision to become a Prefect, and now she too was mocking me? I said nothing.

As we reached the Restricted Section, she peeked in. “There’s no one in here, Minerva,” she said doubtfully.

“Madam Pauletta, “I said in despair, wondering how on earth I was going to explain this. “This may sound mad, but he disappeared.”

Madam Pauletta withdrew her head from the room and stared at me in disbelief. “Disappeared?” she asked incredulously. “Minerva, surely you know we can’t App-“

“He didn’t Apparate,” I cut in. “He...well...vanished.”

Madam Pauletta stared at me for a while, as though assessing the extent of my madness. “Vanish?” she asked skeptically. “Minerva, how possibly can a mere Hogwarts student vanish?”

“I don’t know!” I replied, exasperated. “I’m just telling you what I saw,” I mumbled, turning back and striding out of the library, ignoring her calling me.

For a sick suspicion just crept up in me. Was the person Riddle, trying to spy on our club?

Anyway. You must be thinking what an old crackpot I am, to go about suspecting Riddle for creeping about in the Restricted Section, right? The truth is, I’m pretty muddled up. I haven’t mentioned this to my friends either, in the fear that they too might agree with the librarian to get my head treated.

Oh, what do I do?

Confused,
Minerva
(I’m too gloomy to add in any last note now)
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