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Disclaimer: Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, Ton Riddle, and all other Harry Potter characters belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. I own nothing. All I own are the original characters. Sue me, and you get nothing.
Prologue ~Present Day~
Minerva McGonagall picked up her glass of firewhiskey and took a small sip, studying the woman before her carefully behind her small spectacles. Many people had asked her the same question before. Can you tell me about your life before Harry Potter? Maybe it was time. Maybe Minerva needed to get it out of the way before it became to persistent.
"Tell me," Minerva said to Rita Skeeter. "Why is the Wizarding World so interested in what I have to say? From what I recall, half of them were led to believe that it was I who burned down Gringotts in attempt to destroy the Goblins." Rita smiled and adjusted her glasses. Minerva gave them a sharp look. They made Rita look like a beetle, and it was fairly annoying to sit and look at them.
"The public has demanded life stories of all who have been in the war and survived. I was most enthusiastic to take your story, Miss McGonagall," Rita said. Minerva raised an eyebrow. No she did not just call her 'Miss McGonagall.'
Minerva finished her glass of firewhiskey and stood up. "If you will excuse me for a moment, Miss Skeeter?" she said. Rita nodded and Minerva made her way towards the bar of the Three Broomsticks. She had no idea if she should give her story, entrusting the press with a long line of work that she cherished deeply that they were likely to mess up entirely. But it would be nice to get the real story out at last...
Minerva reached the bar and set her glass down. Rosemerta wandered over. "Good evening, Minerva," she said, disapperating Minerva's glass and apparating a new one filled with firewhiskey. "Good evening, Rosemerta," Minerva replied. Bo, the assistant bartender Rosemerta decided to hire, wandered by, nodding to Minerva. Minerva nodded back curtly. "What brings you here?" Rosemerta asked. "I thought you were preparing for the start of term, two weeks is it?" Minerva nodded.
"Rita Skeeter has asked me for my biography," Minerva replied. "I am debating whether to share my story or not." Rosemerta blinked. "You should tell it, Minerva," she said. "It'll be nice to hear the right version for once." Minerva picked up her glass. "Yes, well, this is Rita Skeeter we are speaking of dear," she said. "She has that wretched Quick Quotes Quill." And with a swish of emerald green robes, Minerva turned and walked back to the table Rita was seated at, waiting patiently.
Minerva sat and studied Rita once more. After another sip of firewhiskey, she came to her decision. "Alright, Miss Skeeter," she said. "You may have my biography." Rita smiled pleasantly at Minerva. Minerva was not fooled. She had seen that fake smile so many times she was starting to find it quite amusing. Rita picked up her alligator bag. "Thank you, Miss-"
"If you call me Miss McGonagall again, you will surely regret it. Minerva will do fine," Minerva said. Rita huffed slightly and opened her bag. She pulled out parchment and her Quick Quotes Quill. Minerva glared at the quill. "Miss Skeeter-"
"It has been charmed to record the accurate quotes," Rita cut off. Minerva shut her mouth and set her glass down. Folding her hands, she sat back in the chair. The corner they were seated in was quiet, so they would not be interrupted.
"Where would you like me to begin?" Minerva asked. Rita set her quill at the ready. "Just start at the beginning, dear," she said. Minerva snorted. That was the most annoying thing she had ever heard Rita say. But where was the beginning? Eventually, Minerva refolded her hands and sat forward.
"Upon my graduation from Hogwarts in 1943..."