(If life is a sea of worries, put on a swimsuit and swim.) I sometimes write fanfiction stories that feature the character Minerva McGonagall. https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReRe2024/pseuds/ReRe2024
yall ever start writing a fic in a certain mood and the next day youre not in that certain mood anymore so now you gotta wait until youre in that mood again so you can continue writing the fic ??
One of my favorite chapters, and one I think is good, in the story of the eighth child of the Weasley family.
The story is about Arthur Weasley's eighth child, the result of one night with Minerva McGonagall after the Battle of Hogwarts, and she remained hidden from him for eight years until he discovered it.
Part (2)
Minerva entered through the shop’s door.
She smiled as she looked at the many goods in the store, in all shapes, colors, and sizes, neatly displayed.
The shop had a fair number of customers, even at this early hour.
The employees, dressed in their purple uniforms, moved around actively, helping customers and presenting the newest and latest products.
Minerva felt a sense of joy she experienced every time she entered Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, as if she were a little girl. Though she had never admitted it, she believed that everyone needed fun and mischief from time to time, which was why she never banned all prank products in the school.
She began to remember the twins who founded the shop, and a wave of sadness passed through her when she remembered Fred Weasley. She always felt sorrow when recalling any of her former students who had died in the war against Voldemort and his followers.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a young man wearing a purple uniform, who spoke with a foreign accent. Minerva guessed from it that he was French.
“Hello, madam. How can I help you? Are you looking for something specific?”
Minerva said, “Hello. Actually, I would like to meet George Weasley or Ron Weasley—preferably both.”
Before the young man could speak, another young man arrived. Minerva recognized him as one of her former students.
“Welcome to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, Professor McGonagall.”
Minerva said, “Hello, Mr. Rudlis. I wanted to meet George or Ron. Is that possible?”
Rudlis became slightly nervous and signaled to the French employee to leave. Then he said apologetically, “Ah… I’m sorry, Professor. They both left a little while ago.”
Minerva raised an eyebrow.
“Both of them are not here?” She rarely found them in the shop whenever she needed them regarding school matters and their products. She added, “May I wait for them until they return?”
Rudlis swallowed and said, “I don’t know when they’ll come back, but I can deliver whatever you want to tell them, Professor.” He smiled nervously.
Minerva sighed. She wanted to settle this matter today, not through the mail.
Before she could move, someone came from behind her and said, “Hello, Jacob. Could you tell George to come immediately?”
It was Angelina Weasley, George’s wife.
Minerva looked at her. The young woman was holding a baby girl in her arms—Minerva guessed she was Roxanne—and beside her stood a small red-haired boy, whom Minerva assumed was little Fred.
Angelina said when she noticed Minerva, “Oh, Professor McGonagall! Welcome, Professor. What a lovely coincidence to see you here.” She smiled.
Minerva smiled back. “Hello, Mrs. Weasley.”
Angelina said, “It’s just Angelina, Professor. But what are you doing here at this time?” Then she added with a surprised smile, “Did you come to buy something?”
Minerva said with a smile, “No, I came to meet George and Ron, but unfortunately they are not here.”
Angelina was surprised. “How is George not here? He told me this morning that he would spend most of the morning at the shop because they have an urgent order to deliver.”
Rudlis was making unclear gestures to Angelina from behind Minerva.
Angelina said, “Oh, maybe they are in the hideout. It’s the place they go when they want some quiet to invent a new product away from the shop’s noise. Come with me, Professor—I’m sure they’re there.”
Rudlis widened his eyes and shook his head in refusal toward Angelina, but she didn’t notice. She walked, and Minerva followed her, along with little Fred, who was looking at Minerva with curiosity.
Fred suddenly said to Minerva while they were walking, “Hello! I’m Fred,” and he smiled, showing his small teeth.
Minerva smiled at him and said, “Hello, Fred. Nice to meet you.”
They reached a small door. Minerva might have thought it was an old cupboard door or an unused broom closet.
Angelina cast a spell on the door with her wand, and Minerva heard the sound of the lock opening.
At that moment, in a small room inside Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, George and Ron were sitting on two chairs with a small table between them.
George said, “Do you think she’s gone?”
Ron said, “I told Jacob to come here immediately after she leaves.”
George and Ron had quickly hidden in this room when they learned that Professor McGonagall was in the shop.
George sighed and said, “You know, Ron, we can’t keep hiding like this every time Professor McGonagall comes.”
Ron said, “I know, George, but she comes to scold us. I’m sure this time it’s because of Filch’s prank. That idiot Cironus will regret acting on his own.”
George narrowed his eyes at Ron. “Ron, I’ll ask you for the last time—did you know anything about this prank?”
Ron sighed. “I swear to you, George, I didn’t know anything about it. I was surprised just like you. Damn you, Cironus—you got us into trouble with Professor McGonagall.”
George said, “After we get out of here, we should send her an apology letter and promise to fix the matter.”
Ron said, “I agree with you, brother.”
The brothers were interrupted by the sound of the room door opening. At first, they thought it was Jacob Rudlis coming to tell them that Professor McGonagall had left—but they were shocked by who stood outside the door.
Angelina was standing there, holding baby Roxanne and gently rocking her. Little Fred stood beside her, and next to him was Professor Minerva McGonagall, looking at them with wide, astonished green eyes.
Angelina said, “Here they are, Professor! I told you they were here. Come on, George—I need you for something important. Don’t stand like a statue.”
George and Ron froze in shock.
George recovered and said, “Ah… Angelina, my dear, what brought you here? Did something happen?”
He stepped out of the small room, followed by Ron, until they stood in front of Angelina.
Angelina sighed. “Yes, something happened. You know our neighbor, Mrs. Smith—and you know that her daughter and grandchildren came to visit this week. And you also know that your dear son sometimes goes to play with them. Well… your son Fred managed to convince Mrs. Smith’s grandson to steal his father’s wand and—”
“I only borrowed it, Mama!” little Fred shouted in his childish voice, but Angelina silenced him with an angry look.
She continued,
“Then Fred and Mrs. Smith’s grandson started playing with the wand, until Fred decided to try one of the spells on him. And of course, I don’t need to tell you that the result was very bad—and that the poor child is now at St. Mungo’s receiving treatment to reverse your son’s spell.”
George’s mouth hung open in shock, opening and closing before he finally said,
“Oh… that is really bad.”
Angelina looked at him angrily.
“That’s all you have to say, George Weasley? But what can I expect—you are the reason for all of this in the end.”
George said,
“Wait a minute, Angelina—why am I the reason? I didn’t tell him to do that. Why do you always blame me?”
Angelina replied,
“It’s your genes, George. You passed on to my son the love of pranks and mischief—even at this young age.”
George said,
“He’s a child, my dear. This is normal for children.”
Trying to calm his wife, George smiled lovingly and winked at her.
“But you too, my beautiful wife, are quite mischievous—and last night is the best proof of that.”
Angelina’s cheeks turned very red, and she glanced around at her son, Professor McGonagall, and Ron after hearing her husband’s bold teasing.
Minerva and Ron both pretended to look elsewhere, though a faint blush spread across Minerva’s cheeks, and Ron’s ears turned completely red.
Angelina said,
“What are you saying, George, you idiot? We are in a public place, and Fred is here!”
George said casually,
“Don’t worry, Angelina. I’m sure he doesn’t understand what I mean.”
Angelina gave him a sharp look, and he quickly added,
“Sorry, my dear.”
After a few moments of silence, George said,
“But I still don’t understand why you came. I think Fred’s punishment could have waited until I got home, and then we could agree on a suitable punishment.”
Fred shouted,
“No, Papa! I don’t want to be punished, please!”
Angelina looked at him and said firmly,
“Of course you will be punished, Fred Weasley. Playing with a real wand is very dangerous, and I warned you more than once not to touch any real wand. Look what happened to that poor boy because of you.”
Fred looked down at his feet, his face showing signs of embarrassment, his cheeks flushed red.
Angelina sighed and said to George,
“I need to take Fred to St. Mungo’s to visit Mrs. Smith’s family, to apologize, and to wish the boy a speedy recovery. And I can’t take Roxanne with me.”
George immediately said, after understanding why she came,
“No, Angelina, I can’t take care of Roxanne right now—we have a lot of work today.”
Angelina said,
“You are their father, George. You must share the responsibility with me.”
She handed the bag containing extra clothes, diapers, and Roxanne’s milk bottles to Ron, who was standing beside George.
Then she handed baby Roxanne to her father and said,
“Don’t worry, I won’t be long. I’ll come back to take her as soon as Fred and I are done with the visit, alright?”
George sighed and said,
“Do I have another choice?”
Angelina, holding little Fred’s hand, said,
“Be careful not to let her put any of the toys or prank items from your office into her mouth. She likes to explore everything with her mouth.”
George replied,
“Don’t worry, my dear Angelina. I’ll take good care of her.”
Angelina looked at Minerva and smiled warmly.
“I wanted to talk with you a bit, Professor, but as you see, I have to go now. Goodbye, Professor.”
Minerva smiled.
“Goodbye, Angelina. Goodbye, Fred.”
Fred waved at his father, Uncle Ron, and Minerva.
“Byeee!”
Ron stood holding the baby bag, George holding Roxanne, and Minerva beside them.
Minerva said,
“So… you have been hiding from me all this time.”
Before anyone could respond, baby Roxanne began crying loudly after realizing her mother was gone.
George tried to calm her.
“Easy, my little one… what’s wrong? Look, we’re in the shop—we’ll play together and have fun until Mama comes back, my beautiful princess.”
But the baby continued crying and squirming in her father’s arms.
George looked at his brother for help. Ron stepped forward, gently wiping the baby’s tears with a handkerchief.
“What’s wrong, Roxanne? Don’t you want to play with Daddy and Uncle Ron for a bit?”
The two brothers kept trying to quiet her and make her laugh, but she continued crying. Nearby employees and customers began looking at them—and at the baby.
Minerva’s heart softened at the sight. She stepped closer and said,
“Give her to me, George. I will try to calm her.”
George handed her over carefully.
Minerva took little Roxanne, gently rocking her.
“What is it, little lady? Everything is alright… shhh… shhh…”
Then she began singing in a soft, sweet voice—a lullaby she used to sing to her daughter Athena when she was little.
The baby’s crying stopped, and she looked at Minerva with curious eyes, listening to her voice.
When Minerva finished, she smiled and placed a gentle kiss on the baby’s tiny nose. She wiped away her tears and adjusted her position until Roxanne rested her head on Minerva’s shoulder, her small finger in her mouth.
Ron and George stood staring in shock for several moments.
Minerva looked at them and said,
“What is wrong with the two of you?”
Ron said,
“Wow… I didn’t know you had such a beautiful voice, Professor.”
George said,
“And the world still manages to surprise us.”
Minerva narrowed her eyes at him.
“What do you mean by that, George Weasley?”
George quickly said,
“I didn’t mean anything, Professor. What I meant is that your voice is beautiful, and your singing is wonderful.” He smiled.
Minerva sighed.
“Thank you.”
George said,
“I believe you came to us, Minerva, because of one of the pranks. Come, let’s talk in the office upstairs.”
He reached out to take Roxanne, but she buried her face into Minerva’s neck.
Minerva said,
“It’s alright, George. Leave her for a little while until she calms down. Let’s go to the office.”
Ron, George, and Minerva—carrying Roxanne—went to George’s office on the second floor.
During the short walk, Minerva noticed that Roxanne kept putting her hand in her mouth and sucking on it strongly. A thought crossed her mind about why the baby had been crying.
They arrived at the office, which was of medium size, filled with scattered toys, prank items, and designs.
George sat behind his desk and gestured for Minerva to sit.
Minerva sat in one of the chairs opposite the desk, while Ron sat beside her after handing the bag to George.
As she sat, Minerva noticed Roxanne opening her mouth and leaning toward her chest. Her suspicion was confirmed, and she smiled.
“I think Roxanne is upset because she’s hungry. George, look for her milk bottle in the bag.”
George searched the bag until he found it.
Minerva said,
“Do you know the warming charm, young man?”
George replied,
“Of course, Minerva. I’m a good father—I take care of my children.”
Minerva smiled apologetically.
“Alright, don’t be offended. Warm the bottle.”
George sighed, took out his wand, and cast the warming spell. After warming it slightly, he tested a drop on his hand to make sure it was warm—not hot.
He handed the bottle to Minerva.
“Should I feed her?”
Minerva said,
“I can feed her.” She smiled. “As you know, I have a child—I have experience.”
Ron asked,
“How is Athena, Professor? Why didn’t she come with you?”
Minerva replied, while looking at Roxanne now feeding peacefully,
“She’s at school. And I’m not here on a family visit—as I believe you already guessed. Which is why you were hiding.” She looked at both of them.
George sighed.
“This is about the prank targeting Filch, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Ron said quickly,
“I swear, Professor, we didn’t know anything about it. One of the shop workers thought it would be funny to make that prank and label it with Filch’s name.”
George added,
“Don’t worry, Professor. We’ll take care of it and resolve everything today. You have our word.”
Ron nodded.
“Yes, Professor. Don’t worry.”
Minerva sighed.
“Very well, boys. I will trust you.”
George said,
“Well then—it’s settled. Ah, Minerva… how rude of me. I forgot to ask—would you like a cup of tea?”
Minerva smiled.
“No, thank you, George. But that’s kind of you.”
Ron stood, opened a drawer, took out a small colorful box, and returned.
“Here, Professor—these are very good sweets. They haven’t been released yet. We only offer them to special guests.” He winked.
Minerva narrowed her eyes.
“Ron… this isn’t one of your tricks, is it?”
“No, no—of course not! Look.”
He unwrapped one and ate it.
“It’s completely safe.”
Minerva accepted the treat and thanked him.
They chatted for a while, including about Athena. During that time, Roxanne finished her milk and fell asleep peacefully in Minerva’s arms.
Minerva said,
“It’s time for me to return to Hogwarts, boys. Thank you for your hospitality—and don’t hide from me again.”
George and Ron said together,
“Yes, Professor… and we are sorry.”
Minerva gently kissed Roxanne’s cheek, then carefully handed her back to George so she wouldn’t wake.
George held his daughter carefully, kissed her, and smiled.
“Sweet dreams, Daddy’s princess.”
Minerva said goodbye to both Ron and George, who asked her to send their regards to Athena.
Minerva then left Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes after resolving the prank matter.
And afterward, she returned to Hogwarts.
NOTE: The chapter was written and published some time ago, but I made some minor adjustments to the translation because it was previously a literal translation.
One of my favorite chapters, and one I think is good, in the story of the eighth child of the Weasley family.
The story is about Arthur Weasley's eighth child, the result of one night with Minerva McGonagall after the Battle of Hogwarts, and she remained hidden from him for eight years until he discovered it.
PART (1)
One morning, in the middle of the following week,
Athena was sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs in her mother’s office at Hogwarts. She was reviewing some of her lessons before heading to school, but she soon lost focus and found herself listening in on the conversation taking place between her mother—the Headmistress—and the Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch.
Filch had knocked on the Headmistress’s door about an hour earlier, while Athena had been studying and her mother had been seated at her desk, occupied with school matters and correspondence.
His face was flushed red with anger because of a new trick the students had been using on him—especially since, after managing to confiscate one of them, he had found instructions attached to it stating that it was to be used on him—Argus Filch—which only made him angrier and angrier.
Filch was used to being the target of students’ pranks from time to time, but this was the first time a specific trick had been designed with him in mind, and he felt that its sole purpose was to harass him.
Of course, the trick had come from George and Ron’s shop—Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes—and that was what made Athena listen even more closely.
“You must put an end to this, Madam Headmistress,” Filch said. “This trick is designed solely to upset me—me in particular. Was it not enough what I endured when those troublemakers were students here? And now they want to make sure I continue to suffer from their tricks even after they’ve left.”
A small laugh slipped out of Athena without her intending to, as she imagined her brothers as students, playing tricks on Filch.
Both Filch and Minerva turned to look at her, and the moment Athena noticed, she quickly covered her mouth and murmured an apology.
Minerva narrowed her eyes slightly and said,
“You should be getting ready for school, Athena, and you must finish reviewing your lessons as well.”
“Alright, Mama,” Athena said quickly, lowering her face into her book—but she could not stop herself from continuing to listen.
Minerva sighed and turned back to Filch.
“Do not worry, Mr. Filch. I will try to meet with Messrs. Weasley today, and I will do my best to make them stop this particular trick meant for you. Though I do hope I can find them in their shop this time—as you know, whenever I try to meet them, they are rarely there.”
“Thank you, Madam Headmistress,” Filch said. “I am certain you will resolve this matter. But what about the students I caught using these tricks? Will they be punished?”
A smile spread across his face as he imagined the kinds of punishments they might receive.
“I will inform the Heads of Houses to warn the students that the use of this trick is forbidden within the school,” Minerva replied. “As for the students you caught, I will deduct ten points from each of them and issue a warning. If it happens again, they will face detention in addition to further point deductions.”
Filch sighed. He had been hoping for a harsher punishment than a mere loss of points—something like hanging them in chains or whipping them—but he knew very well that Headmistress Minerva McGonagall would never, under any circumstances, allow any student to be subjected to corporal punishment.
After the conversation ended, Filch left the office.
Athena looked up at once.
“Mama, can I come with you to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes? I want to visit George and Ron.”
“No, my child,” Minerva replied gently. “You cannot come with me. You have school and lessons to attend, and I am not going to visit them as family, but on official business in my capacity as Headmistress of Hogwarts.”
Athena sighed.
“Alright, Mother.”
Sensing the sadness in her voice, Minerva softened.
“Do not be sad, my kitty. You will see them all this weekend.”
Athena brightened slightly.
“Mama… were my siblings naughty when they were students at Hogwarts?”
Minerva laughed softly, remembering the Weasley family.
“Yes, some of them were quite naughty—especially the twins, Fred and George.”
Athena smiled.
“But Athena,” Minerva added quickly, “when you become a student at Hogwarts, I do not want you to be naughty. Do you understand?”
Athena smiled again.
“I will try, Mama.”
Minerva smiled back at her.
After a short while, she said,
“Come along, Athena. I will take you to your school on my way to Diagon Alley.”
And the two of them left the office, making their way toward Athena’s school.
Later
After dropping Athena off at her school in Hogsmeade, Minerva continued on her way to Diagon Alley to meet George and Ron Weasley.
It was still a little early, so she decided to stop first at Flourish and Blotts.
She wanted to ask about the latest book published in the field of Transfiguration and whether it was available yet, and she also intended to visit the section for young witches and wizards to buy some new books for Athena.
She approached the shop assistant and asked about the book, but he informed her that it had not arrived yet. Minerva therefore reserved a copy so that it would be set aside for her as soon as it arrived.
After that, she made her way deeper into the shop until she reached the section for young witches and wizards, where she began examining the books, considering which ones to buy.
But then she noticed a small girl standing beside her—a child with thick, fiery red hair—looking at the books on the lower shelves.
She was very young, perhaps no more than two or three years old.
The little girl was staring at the books with wide blue eyes.
Minerva glanced around, but there was no adult nearby. She crouched down to the child’s level and said gently,
“Hello there, little one. Where are your parents? Are you lost?”
The girl lifted her gaze to Minerva, then looked around nervously after realizing she was alone with a stranger.
Just then, Minerva heard approaching footsteps and a woman’s voice calling out,
“There you are, Rosy! Didn’t I tell you, my little girl, not to wander off and to stay close to me?”
The little girl immediately ran to her mother and hid behind her legs, clutching her skirt.
Minerva straightened and looked at the child’s mother—one of her favorite and most brilliant former students.
“Ah, Professor McGonagall! Hello—it’s so lovely to see you!” Hermione said with a warm smile.
She was carrying a basket filled with books and pushing a pram with a sleeping baby inside. Minerva assumed it was little Hugo.
“Hello, Hermione. It is very nice to see you as well, my dear,” Minerva replied.
She glanced at the little girl.
“So this is little Rose. Hello, Rosy.”
“Yes, that’s her, Professor,” Hermione said. “Come on, Rosy—say hello.”
But Rose did not move from behind her mother’s legs, though she peeked at Minerva with curious eyes.
“Oh, she’s just a bit shy, Professor,” Hermione added.
“That is quite all right,” Minerva said kindly. “Most children are.”
The two of them soon fell into conversation. Hermione explained that she had come for the new Transfiguration book as well, and when she did not find it, she had reserved a copy before heading to the children’s section to buy books for Rose.
Minerva smiled. She had always enjoyed speaking with Hermione—conversation with her was effortless and engaging.
“Ron hasn’t stopped talking about Athena since he saw her,” Hermione said. “I’m very excited to meet her this weekend.”
“That makes me very happy to hear, Hermione,” Minerva replied. “I hope the rest of the family feels the same way.”
“I’m sure they will,” Hermione said. “I already adore her, just from the way Ron speaks about her.”
Minerva smiled.
The two of them continued choosing books and talking, until at last Rose came out from behind her mother’s legs and began selecting books with them.
By the end of their visit, Minerva even managed to receive a small hug from the little girl.
Minerva then said her goodbyes to Hermione, Rose, and Hugo after they left Flourish and Blotts, and they agreed to keep in touch.
After that, Minerva made her way toward Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes to meet George and Ron Weasley, to reprimand them for the trick and ask them to remove Mr. Filch’s name from it.
When she reached the shop door, Minerva paused for a moment, let out a quiet sigh, then opened the door and stepped inside.
NOTE: The chapter was written and published some time ago, but I made some minor adjustments to the translation because it was previously a literal translation.
One of my favorite chapters, and one I think is good, in the story of the eighth child of the Weasley family.
The story is about Arthur Weasley's eighth child, the result of one night with Minerva McGonagall after the Battle of Hogwarts, and she remained hidden from him for eight years until he discovered it.
PART (1)
One morning, in the middle of the following week,
Athena was sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs in her mother’s office at Hogwarts. She was reviewing some of her lessons before heading to school, but she soon lost focus and found herself listening in on the conversation taking place between her mother—the Headmistress—and the Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch.
Filch had knocked on the Headmistress’s door about an hour earlier, while Athena had been studying and her mother had been seated at her desk, occupied with school matters and correspondence.
His face was flushed red with anger because of a new trick the students had been using on him—especially since, after managing to confiscate one of them, he had found instructions attached to it stating that it was to be used on him—Argus Filch—which only made him angrier and angrier.
Filch was used to being the target of students’ pranks from time to time, but this was the first time a specific trick had been designed with him in mind, and he felt that its sole purpose was to harass him.
Of course, the trick had come from George and Ron’s shop—Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes—and that was what made Athena listen even more closely.
“You must put an end to this, Madam Headmistress,” Filch said. “This trick is designed solely to upset me—me in particular. Was it not enough what I endured when those troublemakers were students here? And now they want to make sure I continue to suffer from their tricks even after they’ve left.”
A small laugh slipped out of Athena without her intending to, as she imagined her brothers as students, playing tricks on Filch.
Both Filch and Minerva turned to look at her, and the moment Athena noticed, she quickly covered her mouth and murmured an apology.
Minerva narrowed her eyes slightly and said,
“You should be getting ready for school, Athena, and you must finish reviewing your lessons as well.”
“Alright, Mama,” Athena said quickly, lowering her face into her book—but she could not stop herself from continuing to listen.
Minerva sighed and turned back to Filch.
“Do not worry, Mr. Filch. I will try to meet with Messrs. Weasley today, and I will do my best to make them stop this particular trick meant for you. Though I do hope I can find them in their shop this time—as you know, whenever I try to meet them, they are rarely there.”
“Thank you, Madam Headmistress,” Filch said. “I am certain you will resolve this matter. But what about the students I caught using these tricks? Will they be punished?”
A smile spread across his face as he imagined the kinds of punishments they might receive.
“I will inform the Heads of Houses to warn the students that the use of this trick is forbidden within the school,” Minerva replied. “As for the students you caught, I will deduct ten points from each of them and issue a warning. If it happens again, they will face detention in addition to further point deductions.”
Filch sighed. He had been hoping for a harsher punishment than a mere loss of points—something like hanging them in chains or whipping them—but he knew very well that Headmistress Minerva McGonagall would never, under any circumstances, allow any student to be subjected to corporal punishment.
After the conversation ended, Filch left the office.
Athena looked up at once.
“Mama, can I come with you to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes? I want to visit George and Ron.”
“No, my child,” Minerva replied gently. “You cannot come with me. You have school and lessons to attend, and I am not going to visit them as family, but on official business in my capacity as Headmistress of Hogwarts.”
Athena sighed.
“Alright, Mother.”
Sensing the sadness in her voice, Minerva softened.
“Do not be sad, my kitty. You will see them all this weekend.”
Athena brightened slightly.
“Mama… were my siblings naughty when they were students at Hogwarts?”
Minerva laughed softly, remembering the Weasley family.
“Yes, some of them were quite naughty—especially the twins, Fred and George.”
Athena smiled.
“But Athena,” Minerva added quickly, “when you become a student at Hogwarts, I do not want you to be naughty. Do you understand?”
Athena smiled again.
“I will try, Mama.”
Minerva smiled back at her.
After a short while, she said,
“Come along, Athena. I will take you to your school on my way to Diagon Alley.”
And the two of them left the office, making their way toward Athena’s school.
Later
After dropping Athena off at her school in Hogsmeade, Minerva continued on her way to Diagon Alley to meet George and Ron Weasley.
It was still a little early, so she decided to stop first at Flourish and Blotts.
She wanted to ask about the latest book published in the field of Transfiguration and whether it was available yet, and she also intended to visit the section for young witches and wizards to buy some new books for Athena.
She approached the shop assistant and asked about the book, but he informed her that it had not arrived yet. Minerva therefore reserved a copy so that it would be set aside for her as soon as it arrived.
After that, she made her way deeper into the shop until she reached the section for young witches and wizards, where she began examining the books, considering which ones to buy.
But then she noticed a small girl standing beside her—a child with thick, fiery red hair—looking at the books on the lower shelves.
She was very young, perhaps no more than two or three years old.
The little girl was staring at the books with wide blue eyes.
Minerva glanced around, but there was no adult nearby. She crouched down to the child’s level and said gently,
“Hello there, little one. Where are your parents? Are you lost?”
The girl lifted her gaze to Minerva, then looked around nervously after realizing she was alone with a stranger.
Just then, Minerva heard approaching footsteps and a woman’s voice calling out,
“There you are, Rosy! Didn’t I tell you, my little girl, not to wander off and to stay close to me?”
The little girl immediately ran to her mother and hid behind her legs, clutching her skirt.
Minerva straightened and looked at the child’s mother—one of her favorite and most brilliant former students.
“Ah, Professor McGonagall! Hello—it’s so lovely to see you!” Hermione said with a warm smile.
She was carrying a basket filled with books and pushing a pram with a sleeping baby inside. Minerva assumed it was little Hugo.
“Hello, Hermione. It is very nice to see you as well, my dear,” Minerva replied.
She glanced at the little girl.
“So this is little Rose. Hello, Rosy.”
“Yes, that’s her, Professor,” Hermione said. “Come on, Rosy—say hello.”
But Rose did not move from behind her mother’s legs, though she peeked at Minerva with curious eyes.
“Oh, she’s just a bit shy, Professor,” Hermione added.
“That is quite all right,” Minerva said kindly. “Most children are.”
The two of them soon fell into conversation. Hermione explained that she had come for the new Transfiguration book as well, and when she did not find it, she had reserved a copy before heading to the children’s section to buy books for Rose.
Minerva smiled. She had always enjoyed speaking with Hermione—conversation with her was effortless and engaging.
“Ron hasn’t stopped talking about Athena since he saw her,” Hermione said. “I’m very excited to meet her this weekend.”
“That makes me very happy to hear, Hermione,” Minerva replied. “I hope the rest of the family feels the same way.”
“I’m sure they will,” Hermione said. “I already adore her, just from the way Ron speaks about her.”
Minerva smiled.
The two of them continued choosing books and talking, until at last Rose came out from behind her mother’s legs and began selecting books with them.
By the end of their visit, Minerva even managed to receive a small hug from the little girl.
Minerva then said her goodbyes to Hermione, Rose, and Hugo after they left Flourish and Blotts, and they agreed to keep in touch.
After that, Minerva made her way toward Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes to meet George and Ron Weasley, to reprimand them for the trick and ask them to remove Mr. Filch’s name from it.
When she reached the shop door, Minerva paused for a moment, let out a quiet sigh, then opened the door and stepped inside.
NOTE: The chapter was written and published some time ago, but I made some minor adjustments to the translation because it was previously a literal translation.
In Minerva's last year at Hogwarts, she is involved in an accident that will change her life and the life of the Black family. In Alfred's last year, he commits a crime whose consequences will haunt him throughout his life. (Rated M for a mention of rape)
Set in June 1953, weeks before graduation. Minerva McGonagall is the brilliant, top-of-her-class Gryffindor. Alphard Black is the handsome, conflicted Slytherin prince. A cruel bet made in the Slytherin common room leads to a night that changes the course of their lives— This is a story of trauma, power, and a destiny forged in the shadows of Hogwarts.
Content Warning (CW): This story contains depictions of non-consensual encounters and sexual assault. Please proceed with caution. This is a dark reimagining of Minerva McGonagall’s history and her complex ties to the House of Black.
Characters:
Minerva McGonagall – Alphard Black
Alphard (pure-blood) is the youngest child of Pollux Black and Irma Black (née Crabbe). He has an older sister named Walburga Black (later the mother of Sirius and Regulus Black) and an older brother named Cygnus Black III.
Minerva (half-blood) is the eldest daughter of the Muggle Robert McGonagall and the witch Isobel McGonagall (née Ross), and the older sister of Malcolm and Robert Jr.
June 1953
Alphard was sitting in the Slytherin common room with his friends, talking and laughing. They had finished their studies, and only two weeks remained until graduation.
Like his fellow seventh-years, Alphard was completing his education at Hogwarts.
“Do you still like that half-blood girl, McGonagall?” Alphard’s first friend asked, smiling at the others.
“I don’t like her,” Alphard said, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “She just catches my attention. She’s top of our year and the most talented witch among us.” He added sarcastically, “She always draws attention because of her brilliance and knowledge. An arrogant girl.”
This description was far from true. Minerva was outstanding among her peers, brilliant and exceptionally intelligent, and all the teachers predicted a bright future for her—but she was not arrogant.
Alphard, however, genuinely liked her, though he was ashamed to admit it to his friends, since Minerva was a half-blood—her mother a witch, her father a Muggle.
“The year’s almost over,” his second friend said. “You don’t have much time. If you want to spend some time with her, you’ve got two weeks.”
“I bet she has a boyfriend,” his third friend added.
“I don’t think so,” replied the second friend. “She’s not interested in dating. Her main focus is studying.”
“I have an idea, Alphard,” his first friend said with a sly grin. “I heard she’s on duty today, monitoring the hallways as Head Girl. Why don’t we lock her in a classroom with you and see if she’ll kiss the handsome prince of the Black family—or if she won’t care?”
Alphard tensed. “That’s a ridiculous idea. Why would I do that?”
“Then you’re afraid, Alph,” his first friend replied. “Afraid of losing. Stop pretending you’re the most handsome among us.”
Alphard Black was indeed the most handsome young man among his peers.
“Accept the bet, Alphard. Prove him wrong. How about we wager on it?” his second friend suggested.
“I bet McGonagall won’t even look at him,” said the third.
“Agreed. Will you take the bet, Alph?” asked his first friend, standing and giving him a challenging look.
The voice of reason in Alphard’s mind told him this was a ridiculous act and he should refuse, but he feared appearing cowardly in front of his friends. He silenced that voice.
“I agree,” Alphard said. “But if I win, each of you gives me five galleons.”
“And if you lose, you give each of us five galleons. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Alphard replied.
***
Alphard walked cautiously through the corridors of Hogwarts, careful not to encounter any professors or student heads. He was looking for a certain Head Girl: Minerva McGonagall.
On the fifth floor, when he saw her, he quickly rehearsed his plan. He intended to lure her to an abandoned classroom on the third floor and make her kiss him. Once that was done, he would leave her and return to the Slytherin common room to report to his friends and collect his winnings. One of his friends had Veritaserum to ensure Alphard did not deceive them.
Alphard planned to take advantage of their friendly relationship—he was from Slytherin and had always treated her respectfully. Minerva appreciated this, and it could be said they were distant friends.
Seeing her, he ran up and said, “McGonagall, thank goodness I found someone. There’s a Gryffindor girl in a classroom on the third floor, crying. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I think she’ll trust you since you’re from the same house.”
“Black, what are you doing in the hallways after midnight? You know it’s forbidden,” Minerva said.
“I know. I was having trouble sleeping, so I decided to take a walk. I’m sorry, but the important thing now is the girl.”
Minerva looked skeptical. “Wouldn’t it be better to get a professor?”
“I’ll take you to her so she won’t be alone, and then I’ll find a professor,” Alphard replied.
Eventually, Minerva followed him to the third floor. They walked quickly, Alphard hoping not to encounter any professors along the way.
Upon entering the classroom, Minerva found it empty. Alphard whispered, “She’s in the closet. The poor girl looks so sad.”
Minerva went to the back of the room where the closet was, unaware that Alphard was behind her, locking the door and casting a silencing charm.
She opened the closet and found no one. Turning, she realized Alphard was right behind her and had cornered her against the wall.
“What do you think you’re doing, Black? Get away! Is this one of Slytherin’s tricks? I thought you were better than that!” she shouted, pushing him away and reaching for her wand in her skirt pocket, only to panic when she couldn’t find it.
Alphard had taken her wand while sneaking up behind her and cast a spell preventing her from transforming into a cat temporarily. She tried to take the wand from him, but he threw it to the other end of the room.
Grabbing her hands, he said, “One kiss and it’ll be over.”
Minerva freed one hand and slapped him hard across the face. Alphard felt a surge of anger—no girl had ever rejected him. How dare this half-blood defy him? He pressed her against the wall and kissed her roughly. Minerva was shocked and struggled to resist.
Alphard then groped her, violating her against her will. He did not want to, but a voice in his mind screamed at him to stop. What he was doing was wrong. Minerva did not deserve it, yet desire overpowered him like a beast. He felt a heat he could not distinguish—was it anger at her slap, or lust?
He threw her to the floor, bound her with magic, and sat on top of her, beginning to remove her clothes. Minerva wept, begging him to stop, resisting with all her strength. He was stronger, and she screamed, hoping someone would hear. Alphard’s spell muffled her voice. He also removed his own clothes and assaulted her.
When he finished, panic and shame consumed him. What had he done? He scrambled to dress and looked at her, guilt overwhelming him. Minerva stared at the ceiling, eyes wide, unable to comprehend what had happened.
He gave her one last look and ran from the classroom, continuing to the Slytherin dormitory, ignoring the shouts of his friends asking about the bet.
In his bedroom, disbelief overtook him. “You fool, what have you done? How could you do this to a girl—especially Minerva? How could you hurt the one you love so brutally?” Alphard heard the other boys muttering in their sleep and retreated to the bathroom, sitting on the floor and crying.
In the third-floor classroom, Minerva stared at the ceiling in shock. Alphard had fled half an hour earlier. The spell preventing her transformation into a cat wore off, and the bindings on her hands dissolved.
After regaining some control, Minerva rose, collected her clothes, and dressed, feeling the pain from the assault. She limped slightly, retrieved her wand from the floor, and approached the classroom door. One last glance at the space that had witnessed her trauma nearly an hour ago made her cover her mouth to keep from screaming. She had been assaulted by someone she trusted. Hogwarts, the place she had always felt safe, had betrayed her sense of security. She wiped her tears and left for the Gryffindor common room.
Reaching the bedroom she shared with other girls, she went straight to the bathroom and sat on the floor, crying as the events replayed relentlessly in her mind.
I wrote this pilot chapter a long time ago. I wanted to tell a story about Minerva McGonagall entering the Black family and whether her presence would change its fate.
The Final Scene (Suggested from Gemini)
In that abandoned classroom on the third floor, Minerva lay broken, staring at the vaulted ceiling in a state of paralysis.
Alphard had fled nearly half an hour ago, leaving nothing behind but the cold echo of his footsteps.
Slowly, the cruel weight of his spells began to dissolve; the magic that had stripped her of her Animagus form withered away, and the invisible bindings around her wrists finally vanished.
As she regained a fragile sense of control, Minerva forced herself to rise.
Her movements were jagged, haunted by the memory of the assault. She gathered her torn pride along with her clothes, dressing herself with trembling hands as the physical pain radiated through her body—a constant, sickening reminder of the betrayal.
She limped toward the front of the room, her silhouette ghost-like in the moonlight. Finding her wand discarded on the floor, she gripped it tightly, though it offered no comfort now. Before leaving, she stole one last glance at the shadows of the room—the place that had witnessed her violation by someone she had dared to trust.
The realization hit her like a physical blow; she pressed her hand against her mouth to stifle a scream that threatened to tear her apart.
Hogwarts, the only place where she had ever felt truly safe, truly free, had become the stage of her greatest trauma.
Wiping the bitter tears from her face, she slipped into the corridors, a shadow among shadows, until she reached the Gryffindor common room. She didn't stop until she was locked inside the bathroom of her dormitory. There, collapsed on the cold tiles, she finally let the sobs take her, while the horrific events of the night replayed in her mind like an endless, waking nightmare.
Alternative Path: What if Dumbledore found her?"
Alternative Scene: Albus Dumbledore’s Intervention
As Alphard fled through the corridors, consumed by shame, Minerva remained collapsed on the cold floor of the classroom.
She tried to move her hands, but the dark magic Alphard had used—magic likely plucked from the sinister depths of the Black family library—was far more potent than her strength could endure at that moment.
She felt as though her body had become a glass prison, her voice unable to rise beyond the confines of her throat.
Suddenly, the sound of calm, rhythmic footsteps echoed from the corridor outside. They stopped abruptly at the door.
It wasn't the hurried gait of a student, but a stride of such gravitas that it initially terrified her. Had Alphard returned? Or was it one of his friends?
The door swung open slowly, needing no key, as a faint luminescence dawned from the tip of a wand. It was Albus Dumbledore, the Transfiguration Professor, on his nightly rounds to secure the castle.
Dumbledore froze. Behind his half-moon spectacles, his usual twinkling warmth vanished; his eyes turned to chips of frozen ice as he beheld the Head Girl—his most brilliant pupil—in such a wretched state.
He rushed toward her with swift strides. With a graceful flick of his wand, the magical bindings shattered. He didn't utter a word at first; instead, he removed his long, purple cloak and draped it over her trembling form with the utmost care.
~~~~~~~~~~
I wrote this pilot chapter a long time ago. I wanted to write a story about Minerva McGonagall entering the Black family and whether the fate of this family would change because of her presence.
I’m looking for feedback on the character dynamics and the pacing. Any thoughts or advice would be greatly appreciated! Feel free to leave a comment or send an ask."
The film tells the story of Hassan, a man in his thirties who lives with his mother and his loyal dog, Rambo, in a working-class neighborhood in Cairo. The events take a dramatic turn when Hassan gets unintentionally involved in an incident where Rambo attacks their neighbor, Karem. This forces Hassan to seek a safe haven for his dog, escaping Karem’s revenge. During his journey, Hassan faces challenges that reveal new aspects of himself and the society around him.
Hello, this will be a slightly long post, containing three excerpts from a story. I would like your help in choosing the best of the three, please.
Which one moves you like the most? Read them all and let us know your choice!
Option 1 –
It was a sunny morning, one that made a person long to walk under the warm rays and leave the cold castle walls behind.
In the Great Hall at Hogwarts, sunlight streamed through the tall windows, spilling some of its warmth and vitality over the students and teachers… yet not everyone was enjoying the sun.
At the Gryffindor table, young Arthur Weasley sat, staring with sorrow at his classmate and lover—or the lover who might soon become a former one—while she laughed with her friend, oblivious to the heart her words had broken.
Minerva McGonagall lowered the book she had been reading during breakfast and looked at Arthur with a dry tone:
“Composure, Arthur. You look pathetic. Can’t you see she’s acting as if nothing happened?”
Minerva had opposed Arthur’s relationship with Molly from the start. Naturally, their enmity was one reason, but she also saw it as an unequal pairing; in her eyes, Molly was careless, narcissistic, and playful, even if she had never seen her with anyone other than Arthur. She never hesitated to praise or flirt with someone who caught her interest, and Minerva had never believed she deserved Arthur—her friend and her adopted son.
Since their first year, she had quietly decided to adopt him in her own way. She once told him she would care for him as a cat tends its fur, after learning he was an orphan and his aunt had been raising him. Arthur had laughed, thinking she was joking, but Minerva never joked.
Minerva’s gaze shifted to Molly, contemplating a way to get back at her for her friend. Molly felt the stare and returned a defiant look, yet Minerva immediately smiled widely and waved from afar.
Then she turned her head toward Arthur and their third companion, Matthew.
Matthew was Arthur’s “love mentor,” teaching him all the tactics that often failed—his lack of a girlfriend was proof enough.
Arthur didn’t like seeking Minerva’s advice; first, because she opposed his relationship with Molly and he knew well the depth of their animosity; second, because she was a girl—how could she understand a young man’s feelings, as Matthew often said?
“Give her some time, Arthur. She might genuinely need it,” Matthew said, eating nonchalantly.
“She’s playing him,” Minerva said sharply. “She treats him like a pet—someone who will wait for her no matter what. A whole month is more than enough.”
Arthur sighed. “Minerva, I’ve told you over and over: I don’t just love her. Love is too weak a word… I adore her. She’s all I want, and I’m sure she loves me too. But I don’t understand what happened.”
She looked at him firmly. “Love that humiliates its owner is not worth it.”
Arthur spoke wearily, “I don’t want to argue about this again. Let everyone keep their own definition of love. Will you help me or not?”
Minerva sighed. “Of course. Do I even have a choice?”
Arthur smiled faintly. “So… what’s the solution?”
“Of course,” she said confidently. “You need a new girlfriend.”
Matthew scoffed. “Wow, Minerva. Even I wouldn’t have come up with that brilliant plan.”
“Listen first,” she said coolly, moving closer so no one could overhear, lowering her voice: “Nothing awakens jealousy in a woman’s heart except another woman… and only one more beautiful can truly ignite it.”
They looked at her puzzled, so she explained: “Make her jealous. If she truly loves you, she will return and not abandon you. Spread a rumor that you have a beautiful new girlfriend—I know you’re good at that, Matthew—then wait for her to take the bait.”
Arthur frowned. “And what if she confronts me and ends it all?”
“Aren’t you on a break, as you call it?” Minerva said. “If you’re worried, you can tell her it’s just a rumor and has nothing to do with you.”
Arthur looked at her with doubt; she knew, as well as or better than him, Molly’s fiery temperament.
Minerva sipped her water and stood. “Listen to my advice. Have any of my tips ever failed?”
Arthur and Matthew shook their heads.
She beamed. “Excellent. Matthew, start spreading the rumor—and add whatever spices you like to ignite Molly Prewett’s heart.”
She grabbed her bag and book and left the Great Hall.
Matthew stood. “Good luck, my friend. I have a mission to accomplish before lessons begin.”
Arthur stayed behind, thinking about Minerva’s plan: would it bring Molly back to him, or would it be a fast track to his own heartbreak?
What neither Arthur nor Minerva knew was that Matthew’s spices would not only stir Molly’s jealousy… but would also set fire to the heart of one particular girl: Minerva herself.
Option 2 –
It was a provocatively sunny morning, the kind that tempts you to walk for hours under the warm rays and forget the cold stone walls of the castle, as if they had never been your only refuge.
In Hogwarts’ Great Hall, golden beams of sunlight slipped through the tall windows, quietly spilling over the long tables, infusing a touch of warmth and vitality into the students and teachers alike… yet not everyone could enjoy it.
At the Gryffindor table, Arthur Weasley sat, a young man in the bloom of youth, staring at a scene he knew all too well, one that hurt more than it should. His classmate and lover—or the lover soon to become a mere memory—was laughing with her friend, oblivious to the heart her words had crushed weeks ago. It was as if his presence—or absence—made no difference at all.
Minerva McGonagall slowly lowered her book. She had been observing Arthur for minutes, noting that glassy look in his eyes—the one she knew so well. She looked at him, her tone firm yet hiding genuine concern:
“Control your expression, Arthur. You look pathetic. Can’t you see? She’s acting as if nothing happened.”
From the start, Minerva had opposed Arthur’s relationship with Molly. Their old rivalry was an obvious reason, but not the only one. In Minerva’s eyes, Molly was a playful, slightly selfish girl, used to attracting attention without thinking of the consequences. Even if she had never openly betrayed Arthur, her words, actions, and passing laughter were enough to plant doubt.
What few knew was that Minerva did not see Arthur merely as a friend. Since their first year, after learning he was an orphan and his aunt cared for him, she had silently decided: he would be her responsibility. She once told him, in a joking tone concealing absolute seriousness, that she would care for him as a cat tends its fur. Arthur had laughed, not realizing Minerva had never been joking.
She cast a quick glance toward Molly, contemplating a way to vindicate her friend. As if sensing the stare, Molly lifted her head and looked at Minerva with clear defiance. Minerva responded with a wide smile and a playful wave before turning to Arthur and their third companion, Matthew.
According to Arthur, Matthew was a “love expert,” or at least he liked to think so. He offered advice confidently, despite his continuous romantic failures, which were clear proof of his limited expertise.
Arthur was uneasy about seeking Minerva’s counsel. She, first, made no secret of her disapproval of his relationship with Molly; second—Matthew often repeated—“How could a girl understand what a young man in love is feeling?”
“Give her some time, Arthur,” Matthew said, chewing indifferently. “Maybe she needs it.”
Minerva replied sharply: “She doesn’t need time. She holds him by an invisible thread, wants him close, obedient, waiting. A whole month is more than enough to decide what she wants.”
Arthur breathed deeply, as if the words weighed heavily on his chest: “I’ve told you many times, Minerva… I don’t just love her. I adore her. She’s all I want. I know she loves me, but… I don’t understand what changed.”
Minerva looked at him with unwavering eyes, her voice low but firm: “Love that humiliates its owner does not deserve the name.”
Arthur ran a hand over his face in exhaustion. “I don’t want to argue again. Keep your definition of love, and I’ll keep mine. Just tell me… will you help me?”
Minerva sighed, then said with a mix of resignation and determination: “Of course. Could I do otherwise?”
Arthur’s face brightened slightly. “So… what’s the plan?”
Minerva smiled faintly, confidently: “You need a new girlfriend.”
Matthew chuckled sarcastically: “Brilliant, Minerva. I almost missed this genius solution.”
She shot him a sharp look: “Listen first.”
She leaned closer, lowering her voice: “Nothing awakens jealousy in a woman’s heart except another woman… and only one more beautiful can truly ignite it.”
Their faces reflected confusion, so she explained: “Make her jealous. If she truly loves you, she will come back. Spread a rumor about a new girlfriend—and you’re skilled with rumors, Matthew—then wait.”
Arthur’s worry was clear: “And what if she confronts me? Ends everything?”
Minerva answered with measured calm: “Aren’t you on a break? And if things go wrong, tell her it’s just a rumor.”
Arthur looked at her hesitantly. She knew, perhaps more than he did, Molly’s fiery nature.
Minerva finished her last sip of water and stood. “Trust me. Have my tips ever failed you?”
Arthur and Matthew shook their heads together.
She smiled confidently: “Good. Matthew, start… and add as much spice as you like.”
She left the Great Hall, leaving behind a simple yet dangerous plan.
Matthew rose, patting Arthur on the shoulder: “Wish me luck. I have a rumor to craft.”
Arthur stayed behind, wondering if this plan would bring Molly back—or mark the start of a point of no return.
What neither knew, however, was that the rumor—once it spread—didn’t always choose its target. And this time, the fire of jealousy would not only be aimed at Arthur… but at Minerva herself.
Option 3 –
It was a morning so vividly sunny that it seemed to provoke the senses; the kind that invites you to walk for long stretches under warm sunlight, while wishing the cold stone walls of the castle could be forgotten behind you.
In Hogwarts’ Great Hall, golden rays filtered through the tall windows, spilling onto the long tables, spreading warmth and vitality over the students and teachers alike—but not everyone could enjoy it.
At the Gryffindor table sat Arthur Weasley, a young man in the prime of his youth, staring sorrowfully at his classmate and lover—or the lover who might soon become a mere memory—while she laughed with her friend, unconcerned with the heart her words had crushed. Pain weighed on his chest, yet he tried to hide it from everyone.
Minerva McGonagall slowly lowered her book, watching Arthur with eyes that read every expression of his heart. She spoke with a stern tone, veiled by a hint of care:
“Control your expression, Arthur. You look pathetic. Can’t you see? She’s acting as if nothing happened.”
Minerva had opposed Arthur’s relationship with Molly from the very beginning. Their old rivalry was a clear reason, but not the only one. In her eyes, Molly was a playful, slightly selfish girl, drawn to attention without considering the consequences. Even if she had never overtly betrayed Arthur, her words, actions, and fleeting laughter were enough to sow doubt.
What few knew was that Minerva did not see Arthur merely as a friend. From their first year, after learning he was an orphan and his aunt was his caretaker, she had quietly decided: he would be her responsibility. Once, in a joking tone masking complete seriousness, she told him she would care for him as a cat tends its fur. Arthur had laughed, unaware that Minerva had never been joking.
She cast a quick glance toward Molly, contemplating how to protect her friend. As if sensing the stare, Molly lifted her head and met Minerva’s gaze with clear defiance. Minerva responded with a wide smile and a playful wave before turning toward Arthur and their third companion, Matthew.
According to Arthur, Matthew was a “love expert,” giving advice confidently despite repeated failures. Arthur felt uneasy consulting Minerva. She, first, made no secret of her disapproval of his relationship with Molly; second—as Matthew often repeated—“How could a girl understand what a young man in love is going through?”
“Give her some time, Arthur,” Matthew said casually, chewing his food. “Maybe she needs it.”
Minerva retorted sharply: “She’s playing him. She treats him like a pet, someone who will wait for her no matter what. A whole month is more than enough to figure out what she wants.”
Arthur drew a deep breath, as if the words pressed heavily on his chest: “I’ve told you countless times… I don’t just love her. I adore her. She’s all I want. I know she loves me, but… I don’t understand what changed.”
Minerva fixed him with steady eyes, her voice low but resolute: “Love that humiliates its owner does not deserve the name.”
Arthur ran his hand over his face in exhaustion. “I don’t want to argue again. Keep your definition of love, and I’ll keep mine. Will you help me?”
Minerva sighed, then offered a faint, determined smile: “Of course. Could I do otherwise?”
Arthur’s face brightened slightly. “Then… what’s the plan?”
She smiled with quiet confidence: “You need a new girlfriend.”
Matthew chuckled sarcastically. “Brilliant, Minerva. I almost missed this genius solution.”
Minerva shot him a sharp look, then leaned closer, lowering her voice: “Nothing stirs jealousy in a woman’s heart except another woman… and only one more beautiful can truly ignite it.”
They looked confused, so she clarified: “Make her jealous. If she loves you, she will return. Spread a rumor about a new girlfriend—and you’re skilled at rumors, Matthew—then wait.”
Arthur frowned, worried: “And what if she confronts me? Ends everything?”
Minerva replied with measured calm: “Aren’t you on a break? If it goes wrong, tell her it’s just a rumor.”
Arthur looked at her hesitantly. She knew, perhaps better than he did, Molly’s fiery temperament.
Finishing the last sip from her cup, Minerva stood. “Trust me. Have my tips ever failed you?”
Arthur and Matthew shook their heads together.
She smiled, a mixture of confidence and subtle mystery: “Good. Matthew, start… and add whatever spice you like.”
She left the Great Hall, leaving behind a plan both simple and dangerous.
Matthew stood, patting Arthur’s shoulder: “Wish me luck. I have a rumor to craft.”
Arthur stayed behind, wondering whether this plan would bring Molly back—or mark the beginning of an irreversible end.
What neither of them knew was that once a rumor spreads, it doesn’t always choose its target. And this time, the fire of jealousy would not only aim at Arthur… but at Minerva herself.
A vast expanse of silent ice, remaining for thousands of years, with the hope that it will remain so for hundreds more.
A dark sky, spread with stars and celestial bodies, like a painting blending despair and hope; a rare sight no longer seen in the cities of Earth.
The colors of the aurora intertwine, dominated by green, like a cosmic curtain dancing without care.
The scent of snow fills the air, and people lift their eyes with contemplation and admiration, while the auroral curtain continues its dance, indifferent to its admirers, indifferent to anyone.
Despite the captivating view of the aurora, you choose to walk away, leaving the crowd behind.
You leap onto a floating piece of ice, and though you all gaze at the same scene, your ice drifts slowly into the dark depths of the ocean.
You continue on your journey alone.
And whenever you feel lonely, you lift your eyes to the sky,
remembering that it is the same sky that people gaze at from all corners of the Earth.
One sky… seen by all eyes, yet not experienced by everyone in the same way.
(Note: This was written in Arabic, and I had to use an AI translator to convert it to English.)
An eight-year-old girl with fiery red hair like the rest of the Weasley family, emerald green eyes like her mother, and childlike features similar to her mother's, with a few freckles from her father.
An intelligent girl for her age, she is quiet, kind, and brave. She loves reading, Quidditch, and playing chess with a picture of Severus Snape.
An eight-year-old girl with fiery red hair like the rest of the Weasley family, emerald green eyes like her mother, and childlike features similar to her mother's, with a few freckles from her father.
An intelligent girl for her age, she is quiet, kind, and brave. She loves reading, Quidditch, and playing chess with a picture of Severus Snape.
3 professors forced to share a hotel room during a travel to a wizard expo ... due to budget cut because Hogwarts have sustained yet another annual Voldemort-related disaster( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
origamiaround
areudirty
gummygunk
stormborns
dededos
