If you could have dinner with anyone in all of history, who would it be, and why?
Minerva sat in her place next to the Headmaster watching the newly sorted Gyffindors starting to find their place in the heirarchy of Hogwarts. There were a number of stares at Harry Potter further down the table and whispers were exchanged, clearly about the excitement of being in the house of the "Boy Who Lived". Within a few minutes, though, Harry was forgotten, no doubt to his relief - Minerva could see some of the stiffness that always showed when Harry felt he was on display leave his body and the laughter he was exchanging with Ronald Weasley seemed more natural.
Her gaze drawn back to the First Years, she watched as the children with older brothers and sisters at the school, children with experience of the school, eagerly shared their knowledge with those less fortunate than themselves. There were many looks her way, some a little scared, some clearly a little awed when the word "cat" could be heard, some open and friendly. She acknowledged them all with a nod.
She started when Albus reached over and touched her hand.
"Satisfied?"
"One can never tell from first impressions, Headmaster, but they seem a happy lot," she replied, her gaze drawn once again to the newest of her children.
"Minerva, are *you* satisfied?"
She met the twinkling gaze squarely. "Albus, you know I'm where I want to be."
"My dear, I've learned to take nothing for granted, and certainly not my most trusted colleagues."
Minerva could feel a flush burning over her cheeks, and the Headmaster took pity on her.
He looked across the Great Hall and stood.
The Sorting Feast was over for another year.
Her gaze drawn back to the First Years, she watched as the children with older brothers and sisters at the school, children with experience of the school, eagerly shared their knowledge with those less fortunate than themselves. There were many looks her way, some a little scared, some clearly a little awed when the word "cat" could be heard, some open and friendly. She acknowledged them all with a nod.
She started when Albus reached over and touched her hand.
"Satisfied?"
"One can never tell from first impressions, Headmaster, but they seem a happy lot," she replied, her gaze drawn once again to the newest of her children.
"Minerva, are *you* satisfied?"
She met the twinkling gaze squarely. "Albus, you know I'm where I want to be."
"My dear, I've learned to take nothing for granted, and certainly not my most trusted colleagues."
Minerva could feel a flush burning over her cheeks, and the Headmaster took pity on her.
He looked across the Great Hall and stood.
The Sorting Feast was over for another year.