#userfebe

Minnie didn’t have her heart set on anything. She was too sensible for that. Although Ravenclaw was looking far friendlier now that the boy who had the same thoughts on Quidditch as her was seated at their table….

“McGonagall, Minerva.”

She stepped forwards, heart thrumming. This was it. 

The hat was warm–possibly because it was sentient, possibly because it had been atop quite a few heads before hers. All of which were turned towards her, like she was on a funeral pyre, or in a casket, or–

She decided to close her eyes. It helped.

“Hmmmm,” whispered the Sorting Hat, as though it was like a cat curled right next to her brain. Minnie shivered involuntarily. “I see you are quite the responsible girl, Minerva.”

Her lips tugged downwards. She was sick of being the responsible girl, the girl who cleaned up everyone’s messes. It would be much better to be valiant, and brave–like her mother, when she stood up to the pastor’s wishes–or intelligent and wise, like the one girl in the village who found a way to get all her chores done in twice the time so she could study to become a nurse to better the world. 

Minnie was sick of being the older sister.

“Ah, so you tend towards Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, then?” the hat mused. 

Minnie pressed her lips together. “Yes,” she thought back. “I’d rather be a hero or a scholar than a stand in for Ma.”

“Why can’t you be both?”

Minnie thought about it, and sighed. The hat had a point, as strange as it sounded. “I can’t be both. How can knowledge be heroic? How can being a hero be smart?”

The hat chuckled, which screamed condescension. “You will find out.”

“Can you not be confusing?”

Another laugh. Minnie crossed her arms, putting on the expression that she used when her brothers were acting up and she was having none of it.

“You’re plenty wise enough to make this choice, and plenty brave enough to pick the right one for you.”

There it was: the truth. She thought about it long and hard, exchanging more words with the Sorting Hat before whispering what she wanted. 

Minerva McGonagall wasn’t always a legend, or a strong witch, or the best in her year. Once upon a time she had been a small little girl who was forced to grow up too soon with a penchant for magic and following her father’s advice. Once upon a time, she had just been “Minnie”.