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Minerva McGonagall was a stern woman. She held little regard for nonsense. That was why Dumbledore had appointed her deputy headmistress, he was confident that if anyone could lead the school in his stead it would be her. She was strict, yes, but she loved all of her students.
Her life had not been one of silver spoons and finer things. Her parents had been more than supportive of her, but they could not give her much. That was okay, she didn’t want for anything and that’s all that mattered. They had lived in a small muggle village with her two brothers and their parents.
She had been fourteen when she first met Michael. He had moved to her village following the end of what the muggles had called World War II. The wizarding world had known this time as the calm after the storm as this was just after the fall of Grindelwald. Michael’s father had been something called Jewish and was therefore hunted in their land, they had come from Poland.
Minerva had never understood why. How could you want to kill someone over something as trivial as a belief system, wasn’t all life precious? She had been young and naive, not yet understanding that a madman who was charming and manipulative could move mountains, he could bend whole nations to his will.
Michael had been so very handsome. He had tugged on her heartstrings from the very first time he introduced himself as her neighbor. His voice had forced butterflies into her stomach, his piercing hazel eyes had muted her voice before it had a chance to escape her throat.
They had spent her fourteenth summer in each other's arms whispering sweet nothings and exchanging soft kisses. Her parents had adored him, though her father was hesitant. He was a minister, after all. Her mother had giggled with her. She had complimented her daughters exquisite taste in men. Her brothers had become fast friends with him.
She was eighteen now. Freshly graduated from Hogwarts, she was an adult and she could make her own decisions. The international statute of secrecy was an important part of being a witch, her mother had warned her against the plans forming in her head.
She was young and rebellious, however. After all, they had spent every summer together since she was fourteen. They had written letter back and forth while she was away at boarding school. She trusted him, she had given him everything, had told him all of her secrets. One more couldn’t hurt, could it?
Oh, but she was so very wrong. That one more secret had broken everything. Most importantly, it had broken her heart. She had confessed her true nature to him that night in the barn. At first he had laughed.
“Oh, Minnie, how did you ever develop such a grand sense of humor? ” He had said. Tears were spilling from his eyes, he had laughed so hard. She had smiled and said
“No, Michael, I am not kidding. Watch this.” she had pulled her wand from the secret pocket in her skirt gave it a wave and a whispered “Lumos”. The tip lit up brilliantly.
She might have put a little too much force behind it because a second later there were about fifteen orbs hanging over their heads. For a second Michael sat just blankly staring at them. Minerva had smiled, thinking it was just him getting accustomed to seeing actual magic. She was wrong, as the trend seemed to be that night.
Michael sat, his mouth agape staring at the lights she had conjured. How could he have not known? How could he have been so blind. She was a witch! They were hunted in his previous village, they were dangerous. Whatever feelings he possessed for her, they were not enough to stop him from what he would do next. He whipped around to face her, his face had hardened, the vein in his forehead bulging.
“You conniving bitch! You have been using me all along! What evil things are you planning? What use do you have of me? No! I don’t want to know. Stay away from me! If I see you anywhere near me or my family I will alert the entire village and they will watch you burn.” He had stormed off and left her there with tears streaming down her face.
How could she have been so stupid, to think she could trust him. In that moment she had felt her heart splinter and break.
“Idiotic, naive, irresponsible… Stupid little girl!” she screamed into the air of the empty barn as she fell to her knees.
Her face was buried in her hands. She sobbed for hours until the tears had dried up. Until all that was left was a burning sensation behind her eyelids, and the thought that she had loved and lost all within the very short span of her life. That was when the anger flooded her veins.
How dare he?! She had given him everything including her innocence. He had spent five summers with her! He had laughed and cried and confided in her! They had grown up together, they knew each other inside and out. They whispered “I love you’s” to each other under the moon’s watchful eye. How could he possibly think her evil?
She was so angry that she didn’t notice the crackling coming from the tips of her fingers. Nor the sparks flying off of her long black hair. Her magic was burning in her veins unchecked, a steal glint had formed in her eyes. She needed to destroy, to cause pain to the very structure that had born witness to her very first heartbreak, in the vain hope that it would ease the pain in her chest.
She had destroyed the barn that night, reduced it to splinters and ash. She vowed to herself, standing in the aftermath, that no one would ever have the power to hurt her like that again. Her heart would be her own, that way she could ensure it stayed safe.
She had lied to herself that night. She would give her heart a thousand times over in the coming years, every time a new little boy or girl would walk into her classroom she would fall just a little bit in love. And when those same little boys and girls would leave men and women, her heart would break a little more. She wouldn’t trade it for the world, however. Most days she thanked Michael, for he had given her the strength to be who she was today, and who she was, was perfectly fine.