Everyone else remembered it as the day Harry Potter came to Hogwarts. Minerva McGonagall, however, remembered it as the that Neville Longbottom arrived in her school and in her House.
They all talked of Harry’s eyes, and how like his mother’s they were. They forgot to mention how Neville’s eyes were the same as his grandmother’s.
They all mentioned the great things that Potter was supposed to do, to live up to his parents’ names. They neglected to say that Augusta Longbottom had been the clumsiest girl of her year and that Neville seemed to be living up to her name.
But Minerva remembered. She knew. It ached like a bottomless pit in her heart, these reminders of things she should have forgotten by now.
The first time she was forced to Floo call Augusta about Neville, Minerva busied her mind instead with thoughts of the famous one under her care—could Harry’s family really ignore him so completely? It was better than thinking about how fierce and caring Augusta was, and how hard this meeting was going to be.
Despite the fact it had been fifty years, and that they were both much aged and worn, the moment Augusta walked in the office it was like that first day Minerva had met her, when they’d fallen down a flight of stairs. The sight of her kicked Minerva in the stomach, reminding her of all her impossible wishes and even more impossible dreams in years past.
“Professor McGonagall.” The greeting was clipped, the voice stilted. The woman’s carriage was stiff, and there was barely a glimmer of the girl Minerva had fallen in love with so very long ago.
“Madame Longbottom,” Minerva replied softly, her heartbreak braided up into her tightbun, where only Augusta could ever find it, if she ever dared to look. Her wishes stayed on her tongue, and her desires in the secret place in her heart.
You knew better, Minerva told herself as Augusta sat, than to wish impossible things.
But as she rose to leave, Augusta paused at the door. “Perhaps you would like to visit and catch up sometime?” she proposed in the same stiff voice as earlier.
“Revisit old times?” Minerva said.
“Perhaps let our hair down a little,” Augusta replied.
But sometimes, maybe, impossible wishes might come true.
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timeasmymeasure
To Wish Impossible -- Minerva McGonagall/Augusta Longbottom
Date: 2010-11-25 11:24 pm (UTC)Everyone else remembered it as the day Harry Potter came to Hogwarts. Minerva McGonagall, however, remembered it as the that Neville Longbottom arrived in her school and in her House.
They all talked of Harry’s eyes, and how like his mother’s they were. They forgot to mention how Neville’s eyes were the same as his grandmother’s.
They all mentioned the great things that Potter was supposed to do, to live up to his parents’ names. They neglected to say that Augusta Longbottom had been the clumsiest girl of her year and that Neville seemed to be living up to her name.
But Minerva remembered. She knew. It ached like a bottomless pit in her heart, these reminders of things she should have forgotten by now.
The first time she was forced to Floo call Augusta about Neville, Minerva busied her mind instead with thoughts of the famous one under her care—could Harry’s family really ignore him so completely? It was better than thinking about how fierce and caring Augusta was, and how hard this meeting was going to be.
Despite the fact it had been fifty years, and that they were both much aged and worn, the moment Augusta walked in the office it was like that first day Minerva had met her, when they’d fallen down a flight of stairs. The sight of her kicked Minerva in the stomach, reminding her of all her impossible wishes and even more impossible dreams in years past.
“Professor McGonagall.” The greeting was clipped, the voice stilted. The woman’s carriage was stiff, and there was barely a glimmer of the girl Minerva had fallen in love with so very long ago.
“Madame Longbottom,” Minerva replied softly, her heartbreak braided up into her tightbun, where only Augusta could ever find it, if she ever dared to look. Her wishes stayed on her tongue, and her desires in the secret place in her heart.
You knew better, Minerva told herself as Augusta sat, than to wish impossible things.
But as she rose to leave, Augusta paused at the door. “Perhaps you would like to visit and catch up sometime?” she proposed in the same stiff voice as earlier.
“Revisit old times?” Minerva said.
“Perhaps let our hair down a little,” Augusta replied.
But sometimes, maybe, impossible wishes might come true.