Nice to Meet You

The McGonagalls and the Hooches were both old, prestigious Scottish wizarding families. Every year they would meet up on one of the family's estates, and they would have the annual McGonagall-Hooch get together. The adults would mill around and mingle, making friendly conversation with each other, and the children would 'run along and play' somewhere. This was Minerva McGonagall's very first reunion, and in all honesty, she wasn't quite sure that she was enjoying it.

It's not all it's cracked up to be, she thought. Minerva was leaning against a large oak tree, and clutching a book to her chest. She loved books; they were her friends. She didn't have that any real friends, because her mother and father preferred to have her inside, in the library, reading.

"Feed your mind, Minerva, and you will not regret it!" her father had said.

And so she did. She read, and read, and read until she had absorbed the entire contents of the book and could recite it. She heard a twig crack somewhere to her left, and she whipped her head around, her long black braid whipping her in the face. She looked curiously at a new girl, who was standing in front of her, bouncing back and forth on her heels. She looked fit to burst with joy, and she was smiling broadly.

"Excuse me, girl, who are you?" Minerva asked politely.

The girl looked positively ecstatic at being addressed by a potential friend.

"I'm Xiomara! Who are you?" She had a bubbly sounding, high pitched sort of voice, that Minerva thought may become slightly annoying.

"I'm Minerva. Xiomara...that sure is an odd name!"

"Well...you have spectacles, and you're only...what? Twelve years old?" Xiomara said triumphantly.

Minerva seemed to blush a little, but stuck out her chin in a proud way.

"I'm only ten. I'm just tall for my age."

Xiomara furrowed her brow and took a few steps closer, as if contemplating something.

"Wait a moment. You're ten, and this is only your first time? The age that children usually get invited to these things is nine! Why did you wait a year?"

Xiomara, Minerva could tell, had no subtlety whatsoever. With a sigh, she recited what she usually had to at family gatherings. For the family always asked,

"Minerva dear! You're nine years old! Why don't you come to the reunions?"

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and said,

"I didn't come when I was nine, because my mother felt that I was too...delicate to come. She preferred that I stay in the house, particularly, the library."

Xiomara wore a look of one resisting the urge to burst out in a fit of giggles.

"Your mum thought you'd be too delicate? She seems the coddling type, doesn't she?"

Xiomara gave in to her gales of annoyingly giggly laughter, which made Minerva want to slap her upside the head. This was quite unusual, as Minerva was not a violent child. When her giggles subsided, Xiomara flopped down heavily at the base of the tree, paying no mind to her new (and no doubt expensive) dandelion yellow dress robes.

"Well, it's a better excuse than mine, anyway," she said with a shrug.

Minerva sat down gracefully, tucking her deep scarlet robes around her carefully. She raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Well, what's your excuse?"

Xiomara turned to face Minerva, laughter evident in her startlingly golden colored eyes.

"Well, I'm actually eleven, but I didn't get to come, because my parents thought I was too hyper. I don't deny it. I am too hyper."

Minerva couldn't quite deny it either. Nor, she realized, could she hold in her laughter anymore. It started out as polite little titters, but slowly grew louder, until she was outright laughing. Xiomara looked a little startled at first, but abruptly began laughing too, and they sat there laughing for a few minutes, until Minerva had calmed down enough to speak.

"I'm so sorry," she said, wiping tears of laughter from her face. "That was so rude of me!"

Far from saying, 'that's alright' or 'don't be', Xiomara frowned in a displeased sort of way.

"You can have fun, you know. You are allowed."

Minerva looked slightly offended, but made no move to retaliate. Instead, she changed the subject.

"Do you like books, Xiomara?"

She turned to the girl beside her who was actively pursuing a caterpillar on a fallen branch. Her head snapped around so fast, that Minerva was concerned she may have cracked something in her neck.

"Dear Lord, no! Books are for teachers, grown ups, and boring people." She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought of being one of the previously listed.

Minerva jumped up, morally offended.

"Excuse me! Reading is wonderful, books are fantastic, and anyone who thinks otherwise has never truly lived!"

Xiomara jumped up too, but without Minerva's grace. She made a face halfway between a sneer and a scowl.

"Ooh, big words for such a little girl! Just remember that I am a whole year older than you, and I can use big words too!"

Minerva snorted derisively.

"I'm afraid, Xio-Moron, that you wouldn't know a 'big word' if it came up and bit you on the nose!"

Xiomara's jaw dropped and her eyes narrowed menacingly.

"How dare you make fun of my name! Yours isn't that great, either! Minerva? What is that, goddess of war or something weird like that? You reign over a bunch of idiots in metal, who like to kill each other! Bravo! What an accomplishment!"

"It's goddess of wisdom, you imbecile! But you wouldn't know that, because you've never read a book on it!"

Xiomara made a furious move towards her, but noticing that Minerva was a good inch or two taller, thought better of it.

"Further more, you have no tact, no subtlety, and I've only known you for ten minutes, and already I resent you!"

"Ooh, more big fancy words! I'm so scared." she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "I hope you get an award for being a stuck up, prissy, snotty, little B..."

"Shut your mouth! Don't even finish that sentence! There's no need for crude words like that!"

"Make me!" Xiomara said, sticking out her tongue in a very juvenile way.

Ok. Ok, this isn't working. Minerva thought. If there was one thing she was good at, it was keeping her temper with childish people.

"Alright. Let's just sit down and talk about what you like, ok?" Xiomara shot her a look of contempt at being addressed like a misbehaving two year old, but nevertheless sat down heavily.

Minerva suppressed a self satisfied smirk. When her youngest brother, Malachy, was misbehaving, this tactic worked and it worked now, too.

Minerva sat down as well, as always, tucking her blood red robes around her gently.

"Well, what do you like? Besides teasing younger children, I mean." Minerva grinned wanly.

"I like Quidditch." said Xiomara immediately.

Minerva wrinkled her nose, causing her rectangular spectacles to fall askew. It's not that she didn't like Quidditch, on the contrary, she loved it. She just didn't like discussing it. It was one of those things that were great to do, but not that great to talk about.

"What's your team?" she asked dully.

"Chudly Cannons!" she said loudly, not without enthusiasm.

"I personally prefer the Montrose Magpies; they're a very good team. Nothing against the Cannons, of course," she said hastily, as she noticed Xiomara ready to rise to the defense. "But I'm not fond of their motto. 'We shall conquer.' It sounds like a battle cry, if you ask me. Not to mention their team has quite a few shoddy fliers. Not like the Magpies."

"Well, the Magpies are horrible. The Cannons will conquer, because they're the best team in the league!"

"They are not!" Minerva said indignantly.

"Uh huh! They are too!"

Instead of replying, Minerva thought for a few moments. Suddenly she smiled slyly.

"How about we settle this in a different way?"

Xiomara raised her eyebrows curiously.

"How?"

"Have you ever flown before, Xiomara?"

"Yep! I'm really good!"

"Ok then! We'll have a race. A flying race. Do you have a broom?"

Xiomara shook her head slowly.

"Not here. I didn't bring it."

Minerva nodded and stood up suddenly. Beckoning for Xiomara to follow, she tiptoed around the side of the manor, and past the back garden where most of the adults were gathered.

"Min! Min!" Xiomara hissed. "Where are we going?"

"Shh! And don't call me Min!" Minerva turned around and shushed her, her shiny black braid whipping around and nearly hitting her in the face.

She turned back around and continued to creep past the grown ups, milling around the many tables set out with food of every kind. If there was one thing Minerva hated, it was having her name shortened in any way. When Malachy was learning to speak, he would call her "'Erva". She'd nearly pulled her beautiful hair out. They reached their destination; a large log paneled shed hidden way in the back of the McGonagall's extensive property.

"A shed?" Xiomara said incredulously.

"Yes, the broom shed."

Minerva yanked the door open, and pulled out her own broom, a Silver Arrow, and another one, slightly older. She handed the older one to Xiomara, who scowled at being given the older broom, but took it without complaint.

"Ok, the rules. No short cuts. At all. And we have to go from...hmm...from here to...you see that really tall pine way down there? No, there...with the nest at the top. Yes, there. Ok from here, to that pine. Mount..."

Xiomara hitched up her yellow robes and straddled the broom, leaned forward and gripped the slim birch handle tightly. Minerva, however, had slightly more trouble. She side straddled the broom, but slipped off almost immediately. After trying this in many different positions, she finally gave up with an impatient sigh, and hitched her scarlet robes up, straddling the broom with it between her legs.

"Ready..."

"Set..."

"Go!"

Minerva shot ahead, diving and slipping between the branches of the trees. She dove and twisted, rejoicing at having the firm, cool handle in her hands once again, and having the warm breeze sift through her hair. Her braid came undone slowly, but she took no notice. Her free black locks whipped back as she streamed along. All too soon, she reached the home base for their race, and came to a smooth landing at the base of the tree. She flipped her hair out of her face and shouted out a triumphant call of,

"Ha! I won!"

But she realized that she wasn't the only one speaking. Turning her head, she saw on the other side of the wide tree, was Xiomara. Her short, white blonde hair was tousled, and her golden hawk like eyes shining with pride.

"I won! I won! I won I won I wwooonnn!"

Anger flared up inside of Minerva.

"You did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did..." Realizing where this was going, (nowhere), Minerva stopped herself short.

"Let's say that it was a tie."

"A tie?"

"Yes, a tie. It's when two people..."

"I know what a tie is, I'm not completely stupid, you know!" said Xiomara irritably.

"Then you'll agree. It's a tie then."

"Fine," she muttered. "A tie."

But the entire way back to the oak tree Minerva could hear her muttering, "I won, I won, I won." under her breath. It made her anger flare, but Minerva didn't rise.

She seems to make me so angry, but in away that I want to prove myself. She mused.

They reached their large oak tree panting slightly, and with a very disheveled took to them.

"My mother will wonder what I've been doing!" Minerva laughed.

"Yeah, and you'll have to tell her that I won," Xiomara said in a very gloating way.

Minerva just grinned. As annoying as this girl was, she made Minerva realize that there was more to life than books, and it was the greatest give she could ever receive.