A/N: Just an advanced warning: It'll all start out sweet and nice. But
don't expect it to stay that way you low-life freaks.
```The Prisoner
Minerva McGonagall pulled her dark purple cloak tighter around her tiny shoulders and she walked down the castle hallway, humming quietly to herself to chase away the silence that so many feared. She was in her early twenties, with long raven black curls and slightly childish looking in the face.
"Where are you going in such a good mood Miss McGonagall?" a good-natured voice from a classroom she had just passed on her left called.
"Home, Professor!" Minerva stopped abruptly in the doorway and looked in to see a man with long auburn hair to his shoulders staring up at her from his messy desk. He wore dark blue robes with a yellow star on the front.
"Now Minerva I've told you not to call me Professor. You've been teaching here all year and still you say that! And I'm now the headmaster anyways." The man's blue eyes twinkled, enough to make any one in a much better mood.
"That's right! Headmaster Dippit is retired now." Minerva shook her head and letting her curls bounce around her face. "I'm forgetting so much these days."
"I hope you haven't forgotten anything you had to pack." Albus said sincerely, with a hint of teasing in his voice. "Are you sure you have everything?" he asked, his eyes twinkling again.
"Yes Albus." Minerva answered in a mocking tone, smiling mischievously at him and clutching her carpet bag tighter in her hand so as not to drop it.
"Would you like a-" Albus started pulling something out of his desk drawer and offering a small yellow bag.
"NO!" Minerva cried. "No lemon drops!" she laughed and shook her head. "Home! I have to get home." She said, giving one last smile and a farewell before she was on her way.
"Farewell." Albus called softly, looking after her retreating form.
Usually she would have gladly stayed to chat with Albus, her hearts affection for many years, but she wanted to be home with her mother and father and receive her wonderful homecoming like she always got. Little did Minerva know her homecoming was going to be anything but special.
She arrived in front of the large mansion house two hours later. The house was old and it showed. A veranda stretched around the entire house. Ivy and Spanish moss hung off the trees lining the driveway and houses' balconies. Flowers were placed all around the house and on the balconies in any spare place they could find with out littering the lawn.
Minerva smiled and walked up to the large white front door and knocked quietly with the doorknocker. She clutched at her carpetbag in anticipation. After waiting a moment a look of worry crossed her face. She tried the silver door handle to find it locked.
"Da? Mum? Are you home?" Minerva called softly, going to a window near the front door. She knocked again harder. "Moosy?" she called the house elf. "Where is everyone?" she asked, going to the door and pulling out her wand. "Alohomora." She said and the lock clicked open.
She opened the door to a large room that led into many other rooms. In front of Minerva was a large slightly spiraling white stair case. Flowers littered the house and brightened the dark wood floor. Pictures on the wall displayed Minerva and another girl growing up through the ages.
Minerva set down her carpet bag near the door and took off her traveling cloak and placed it on the oak coat rack near the door way, glancing at herself in the mirror and pushing a stray curl behind her ear.
"Mum? Mum you knew I was coming today, where are you?" Minerva called in a rather accusing tone. "She always waits at the door." Minerva whispered to herself as she went into the room to her left, which turned out to be a dining room.
On the dining room table the Daily Prophet and some other letters lay on the tablecloth. Two of the five letters were opened.
'Something's wrong here.' Minerva thought to herself. 'Mum always gets through the mail early. And she always is waiting at the door for me.'
Minerva walked past the dining room and to the other joint room, the kitchen. The floor was tiled in a light blue and white and the small table and white counters were immaculate.
'Moosy is usually making my favorite meal by now.' Minerva thought to herself, gently running her fingers over the clean tabletop. Something was definitely wrong with the Scottish girls homecoming.
Minerva walked through the dining room and past the staircase to the right of the front door into a small lounge. She sat down on the couch, exhausted from her journey.
'I suppose I'm just not their little girl any more. Too old for a special homecoming.' Minerva thought to herself and felt a cold spot in her stomach. 'But I want to be their little girl.' She thought, picking up a small picture off the coffee table of herself at the age of five and another girl only a few years older than herself. Both of the children were wearing little Sunday dresses and laughing.
She lost herself for a moment in the memory of her quiet and gentle mother and her big yet docile father. She'd always had a loving child-hood, and though she had been a rebellious teenager her parents had dealt with her and stuck by her.
Minerva sighed and set down the picture and stood up. She went to the doorway again and looked at her carpetbag, then the stairs. The moment she set one foot on the first stair she heard the high-pitched scream of her mother.
It was just at the moment that the first sound wave of the scream reached Minerva's ear and her mind was able to process it that her subconscious told her that after she found her parents, nothing would ever be the same again.
```The Prisoner
Minerva McGonagall pulled her dark purple cloak tighter around her tiny shoulders and she walked down the castle hallway, humming quietly to herself to chase away the silence that so many feared. She was in her early twenties, with long raven black curls and slightly childish looking in the face.
"Where are you going in such a good mood Miss McGonagall?" a good-natured voice from a classroom she had just passed on her left called.
"Home, Professor!" Minerva stopped abruptly in the doorway and looked in to see a man with long auburn hair to his shoulders staring up at her from his messy desk. He wore dark blue robes with a yellow star on the front.
"Now Minerva I've told you not to call me Professor. You've been teaching here all year and still you say that! And I'm now the headmaster anyways." The man's blue eyes twinkled, enough to make any one in a much better mood.
"That's right! Headmaster Dippit is retired now." Minerva shook her head and letting her curls bounce around her face. "I'm forgetting so much these days."
"I hope you haven't forgotten anything you had to pack." Albus said sincerely, with a hint of teasing in his voice. "Are you sure you have everything?" he asked, his eyes twinkling again.
"Yes Albus." Minerva answered in a mocking tone, smiling mischievously at him and clutching her carpet bag tighter in her hand so as not to drop it.
"Would you like a-" Albus started pulling something out of his desk drawer and offering a small yellow bag.
"NO!" Minerva cried. "No lemon drops!" she laughed and shook her head. "Home! I have to get home." She said, giving one last smile and a farewell before she was on her way.
"Farewell." Albus called softly, looking after her retreating form.
Usually she would have gladly stayed to chat with Albus, her hearts affection for many years, but she wanted to be home with her mother and father and receive her wonderful homecoming like she always got. Little did Minerva know her homecoming was going to be anything but special.
She arrived in front of the large mansion house two hours later. The house was old and it showed. A veranda stretched around the entire house. Ivy and Spanish moss hung off the trees lining the driveway and houses' balconies. Flowers were placed all around the house and on the balconies in any spare place they could find with out littering the lawn.
Minerva smiled and walked up to the large white front door and knocked quietly with the doorknocker. She clutched at her carpetbag in anticipation. After waiting a moment a look of worry crossed her face. She tried the silver door handle to find it locked.
"Da? Mum? Are you home?" Minerva called softly, going to a window near the front door. She knocked again harder. "Moosy?" she called the house elf. "Where is everyone?" she asked, going to the door and pulling out her wand. "Alohomora." She said and the lock clicked open.
She opened the door to a large room that led into many other rooms. In front of Minerva was a large slightly spiraling white stair case. Flowers littered the house and brightened the dark wood floor. Pictures on the wall displayed Minerva and another girl growing up through the ages.
Minerva set down her carpet bag near the door and took off her traveling cloak and placed it on the oak coat rack near the door way, glancing at herself in the mirror and pushing a stray curl behind her ear.
"Mum? Mum you knew I was coming today, where are you?" Minerva called in a rather accusing tone. "She always waits at the door." Minerva whispered to herself as she went into the room to her left, which turned out to be a dining room.
On the dining room table the Daily Prophet and some other letters lay on the tablecloth. Two of the five letters were opened.
'Something's wrong here.' Minerva thought to herself. 'Mum always gets through the mail early. And she always is waiting at the door for me.'
Minerva walked past the dining room and to the other joint room, the kitchen. The floor was tiled in a light blue and white and the small table and white counters were immaculate.
'Moosy is usually making my favorite meal by now.' Minerva thought to herself, gently running her fingers over the clean tabletop. Something was definitely wrong with the Scottish girls homecoming.
Minerva walked through the dining room and past the staircase to the right of the front door into a small lounge. She sat down on the couch, exhausted from her journey.
'I suppose I'm just not their little girl any more. Too old for a special homecoming.' Minerva thought to herself and felt a cold spot in her stomach. 'But I want to be their little girl.' She thought, picking up a small picture off the coffee table of herself at the age of five and another girl only a few years older than herself. Both of the children were wearing little Sunday dresses and laughing.
She lost herself for a moment in the memory of her quiet and gentle mother and her big yet docile father. She'd always had a loving child-hood, and though she had been a rebellious teenager her parents had dealt with her and stuck by her.
Minerva sighed and set down the picture and stood up. She went to the doorway again and looked at her carpetbag, then the stairs. The moment she set one foot on the first stair she heard the high-pitched scream of her mother.
It was just at the moment that the first sound wave of the scream reached Minerva's ear and her mind was able to process it that her subconscious told her that after she found her parents, nothing would ever be the same again.