#isobel mcgonagall

[fatecanberewritten-writer]

Déjà Vu | Chapter One: Father

Stars Series | Déjà Vu

Friday afternoons were always the calmest in that little Scottish village, especially in the church. He preferred it to any other day of the week, even Sunday, though he wouldn’t admit that out loud. He liked the simplicity of it, the feeling of an end, but a peaceful one. The whole village had the feeling of going home after a long day.

He stood with a broom on the steps of his beloved church, sweeping away the afternoon dust. Faces he had grown to know well in his few years of living here passed him by, faces that had once been hesitant to see an eighteen year old inland pastor replace their dearly beloved and recently deceased Reverend. But quickly, with an almost devilish charm, though no one would dare to make such a comparison, he won each and every one of them over, even the former Reverend’s bitter and stubborn old widow. Now, though he was many years from earning the title by church standards, the people of Keiss happily called him Reverend. It was a very small village even by his standards, one in which everyone knew everyone, and as he watched a group of children ride by on their bikes, children who he knew by name, whose parents and grandparents he knew by name, he felt a very familiar feeling of comfort. 

The sea breeze cast a strong but not uncomfortable chill throughout the village, reminding them all that autumn was here. It had been one of those summers that refused to end, but the cold was finally beginning to settle in. Even the leaves had held onto their last bits of life for as long as they could - it was the dawn of October, and he hadn’t seen an orange leaf on the church’s witch hazel tree until that morning. As the wind slowly stilled, one came to rest at his feet, and he bent down to grab it with a smile on his face. His wife would love it - it had come from the tree she had planted, anyway. He slipped it between the pages of the bible in his pocket.

“Reverend!”

The distant shout tore the young Reverend from his peaceful thinking very suddenly, his eyebrows furrowing at the sound of distress. Looking in the direction of the shout, he found his neighbor, Farmer McGregor, pedaling towards him as fast as he could on his rickety old bike. It was odd to see the man without his truck, but the vehicle, second in his heart only to his newborn son, had been out of commission for nearly a week now. The Reverend had spent the previous afternoon trying to help McGregor diagnose the issue with the truck’s engine, but both men had come up short.

The Reverend leaned his broom against the door frame and set off down the steps to meet the man halfway. “What is it, McGregor?” he asked as soon as the man was within earshot.

“It’s your wife!” McGregor answered, and the Reverend picked up his pace considerably.

“My wife?” he exasperated. “What happened? Is she alright?”

McGregor came flying up to him, and the Reverend had to take hold of the handles to help steady him. “She’s - ” he was breathing hard, having biked faster and farther than he had in a good fifteen years, and was struggling to get out more than a syllable - “she’s - ”

The Reverend was a notoriously patient man, but with his wife’s well being on the line, his patience was wearing thin fast. “For the love of God, man, spit it out!”

“She’s in labor!”

The Reverend’s face paled as though he had seen a ghost, and the feeling he felt in his chest wasn’t far off. She was early - nearly a month and a half early. The timing of it felt like a punishment from God, because that was almost exactly as early he had been born, and he had lived with the guilt of his mother’s death his entire life.

“Robert!” 

Robert figured McGregor had continued talking to him, but he had heard nothing at all until his neighbor addressed him by his first name. He looked up into McGregor’s wide blue eyes and finally came to his senses. “I - I have to go,” he said in a weak voice, and then, in a stronger one, “I must go to her!”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” explained McGregor, hopping off of his bicycle. “Take this. It’ll get you there much quicker.”

“Is anyone with her?” Robert asked as he mounted the bike.

“Just my Èibhlin, though Mrs. Barclay might be there by now.”

Robert was flustered beyond belief, but still his rational side took control. “She’ll need a doctor. Wallace, could you - ?”

“T’was was my next stop after you,” the farmer assured.

“Alright,” Robert said, as if consoling himself. He pushed off slightly on the bike, but stopped, turning to his neighbor earnestly. “Thank you Wallace, for everything.”

Wallace nearly chuckled at the sincerity of his thanks. “Don’t you be worrying about me, Reverend. You’ve got a wife and a child to be thinking about now!”

His parting sentiment gave Robert a sense of excitement on top of his anxiety, and though he felt tears stinging his eyes as he rode home, a smile more genuine than he had ever had graced his lips. It hit him all at once: he was going to be a father. He was actually going to be a father.

He rode the bike much faster and with much more ease than his neighbor had. While it had been a good fifteen years for McGregor, twenty-three year old Robert could remember his bike riding days clearly. It had been one of his favorite pastimes as a boy, in fact, riding alone along those Highland paths with the wind gently guiding him had been the closest Robert had ever felt to God. Now, as he rode along the cliffside with the setting sun, Robert once again felt an otherworldly presence, and he convinced himself it was his God.

In the orangish haze of the end of day, he finally caught sight of the McGregor farm, and there, just past it, sat the Keiss Manse, a place that had finally begun to feel like home to Robert and his wife. And it was about to be home to another. 

He pedaled the bike more fervently as he saw a plump figure step down from the porch and wave her arms at him. Mrs. Barclay was indeed there, and her arm waving led Robert to believe that the birth was very near. The sound of his wife’s screaming reached his ears as he rode past the McGregor farm, and he stood, pumping his legs even harder against the pedals.

A sudden flashing from his right nearly blinded him, and he regretfully lost control of the bicycle altogether, tumbling ungracefully onto the dirt road. With a feeling he could almost consider rage, Robert sat up from where he had fallen and looked in the direction that the light had come from. There he found, as unassuming as ever, McGregor’s out-of-commission truck, stalled in the grass beside his barn. He couldn’t make sense of it, not at all, and as he heard his wife’s screaming again, he stood and ran the rest of the way to the Manse, missing how the headlights of the out-of-commission truck flickered with the sound.

“Are you alright, Reverend?” Mrs. Barclay called out as Robert approached.

“I’m fine,” Robert responded, uncaring, if not unaware, of the bloody scrapes on his elbows and knees. His attention was elsewhere, his eyes fixed on the door. “How is she?”

Robert met the woman in wide strides, and she struggled to keep up with him as they made their way toward the door. “In the thick of it now, I reckon!”

He flung the door open as he reached it, regretting only slightly how hard it had hit the wall behind it. “Isobel!” he cried out, not knowing which room she was in.

“Robert!” Isobel responded, her response fading into yet another scream. The candles in the windows flickered, but no one took any notice. 

Robert bounded in the direction of her cries, finding Mrs. McGregor and his beloved wife on the floor of the library, his favorite room in the entire house. Almost as soon as he entered, an infant’s crying added to his wife’s. The Reverend rushed over, falling to his bloody knees to support his wife, and they watched together as their daughter took her first breath.

Mrs. McGregor, a new mother herself, guided the child fully into the world. Mrs. Barclay ran to her side with a blanket, cleaning and covering the child before handing her to her parents. The two women sat back together, smiling at the new family.

Robert was in tears, repeatedly kissing his wife’s temple. “Thanks for waiting for me,” he mused.

Still breathing hard, Isobel laughed. “Thanks for getting here when you did. Don’t think I could’ve held off much longer!”

The Reverend laughed alongside his wife, the excitement and anxiety of the day catching up to him all at once. He had made it, she had made it. Their daughter came a month and a half early, just as he did, but she was healthy, and Isobel was alright. He thanked his God, and leaned down to kiss the forehead of his daughter.

Outside, the world was getting dark, and no one took any notice of the tabby cat jumping down from the window of the McGonagall Manse.

[bowtomycoolscissors]

I cannot stop thinking about how Minerva McGonagall could have had cousins from her mom's side (considering her mother Isobel Ross, was a pure-blood. )

I'm getting Maimie McCoy vibes since....well, I have always headcanoned for Minerva to have been born in 1925 ( since it would make sense for her to be in her 70's during Harry's era and plus, the Fantastic Beasts addition makes no sense. )

Some parts of this may be canonical but majority are my own imagination.

Dorothea Ross

> Youngest daughter of Allison Ross (neé Travers) and Alastair Ross (Isobel's youngest brother).

> Pure-blood.

> Born on 26 July, 1927 (Leo).

> Their aunt Isobel was not to be talked about in the household since she had married a muggle ( Robert McGonagall Sr, a Presbyterian minister. ) and had 'half-blood' children which was to be frowned upon by the Ross family.

> For some reason, she already had calculated that her cousins must be much older to her (Atleast Minerva) hence she had always been curious to meet her cousins.

> She was in the same year as Malcolm McGonagall: ( 1938 - 1945 ).

> She was sorted into Ravenclaw along with Malcolm. (Yes, I also believe that Malcolm was sorted into Ravenclaw unlike Minnie.)

During one of their talks in the common room, Malcolm mentioned his mother Isobel and that's how Dottie figured out the connection.

[dhr-ao3]

The Darkwood Wand

The Darkwood Wand https://ift.tt/pV09Tdw by oliwciastyle Draco Malfoy jest szorstki, zimny i znienawidzony w Hogwarcie. I nie ma z tym problemu. Znowu używa zaklęcia do uruchomienia Szafki Zniknięć, choć w znacznie mniej nikczemnym celu. Tym razem używa Harmonia Nectere Passus, aby połączyć swoje łóżko z łóżkiem chętnej wiedźmy. Ale coś idzie strasznie nie tak i zamiast ekscytującego flirtu z czarownicą, z którą Draco potajemnie się spotykał, w jego łóżku pojawia się wyjątkowo pozbawiona rozbawienia Hermiona Granger. Tak zaczyna się parodia ósmego roku w zawieszeniu, podczas którego nic nigdy nie idzie zgodnie z planem, a dobre uczynki NIGDY nie popłacają. Jego zajęcia z wróżbiarstwa to katastrofa, jego matka codziennie wysyła mu sowę z przepowiedniami zagłady, wściekła łasica prześladuje go po zamku, a jego szalony współlokator z Durmstrangu knuje, by pomścić Czarnego Pana. Każdy dzień wywołuje wewnętrzną bitwę pomiędzy wyrachowaną naturą Malfoya i jego lekkomyślną krwią Black'ów. Każda noc sprowadza Granger, siejąc spustoszenie w jego ciele i umyśle. Draco jest przekonany, że kieruje się prosto do Azkabanu i niemal nie może się doczekać tej podróży. Words: 3109, Chapters: 1/69, Language: Polski Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Romilda Vane, Thorfinn Rowle's Son, Sybill Trelawney, Isobel MacDougal, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Garrick Ollivander, Crookshanks (Harry Potter), Minerva McGonagall, Luna Lovegood, Cormac McLaggen, Astoria Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, Horace Slughorn, Poppy Pomfrey Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Divination, Slytherin Dungeons, Vanishing Cabinets (Harry Potter), Wandlore (Harry Potter), Humor, Polyjuice Potion, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, Poorly Executed Seduction Techniques, Ravenclaw Culture, Xylomancy, Astrology, Scrying Mirrors, Numerology, Tarot, Negotiation Table, Magical Research Surveys and Studies, Magical Pythons, Fire-Breathing Chickens, Post-It Notes of Doom, Cursed objects, Strange Tea Parties, magical mirrors, Bad Acronyms R Fun, Plants With Personalities, Snakes With Glasses, Slow Burn, Sexual Content, The Slug Club (Harry Potter) via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/DgZrcC5 July 25, 2024 at 10:10AM

[hogwartsbypictures]

Isobel "yes, my dear, give it one more twirl and it will be perfect" McGonagall & Minerva "thank you for teaching me, mamaidh" mMcGonagall

Taken by Robert "what are my two girls working on?" McGonagall in 1940

**Young Minerva McGonagall Spam**

[persialiu]

[aroacehogwarts]

Professor McGonagall - Pottermore

Childhood

Minerva McGonagall was the first child, and only daughter, of a Scottish Presbyterian minister and a Hogwarts-educated witch. She grew up in the Highlands of Scotland, and only gradually became aware that there was something strange, both about her own abilities, and her parents’ marriage.

Minerva’s father, the Reverend Robert McGonagall, had become captivated by the high-spirited Isobel Ross, who lived in the same village. Like his neighbours, Robert believed that Isobel attended a select ladies’ boarding school in England. In fact, when Isobel vanished from her home for months at a time, it was to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that she went.

Aware that her parents (a witch and wizard) would frown on a connection with the serious young Muggle, Isobel kept their burgeoning relationship a secret. By the time she was eighteen, she had fallen in love with Robert. Unfortunately, she had not found the courage to tell him what she was.

The couple eloped, to the fury of both sets of parents. Now estranged from her family, Isobel could not bring herself to mar the bliss of the honeymoon by telling her smitten new husband that she had graduated top of her class in Charms at Hogwarts, nor that she had been Captain of the school Quidditch team. Isobel and Robert moved into a manse (minister’s house) on the outskirts of Caithness, where the beautiful Isobel proved surprisingly adept at making the most of the minister’s tiny salary.

The birth of the young couple’s first child, Minerva, proved both a joy and a crisis. Missing her family, and the magical community she had given up for love, Isobel insisted on naming her newborn daughter after her own grandmother, an immensely talented witch. The outlandish name raised eyebrows in the community in which she lived, and the Reverend Robert McGonagall found it difficult to explain his wife’s choice to his parishioners. Furthermore, he was alarmed by his wife’s moodiness. Friends assured him that women were often emotional after the birth of a baby, and that Isobel would soon be herself again.

Isobel, however, became more and more withdrawn, often secluding herself with Minerva for days at a time. Isobel later told her daughter that she had displayed small, but unmistakable, signs of magic from her earliest hours. Toys that had been left on upper shelves were found in her cot. The family cat appeared to do her bidding before she could talk. Her father’s bagpipes were occasionally heard to play themselves from distant rooms, a phenomenon that made the infant Minerva chuckle.

Isobel was torn between pride and fear. She knew that she must confess the truth to Robert before he witnessed something that would alarm him. At last, in response to Robert’s patient questioning, Isobel burst into tears, retrieved her wand from the locked box under her bed and showed him what she was.

Although Minerva was too young to remember that night, its aftermath left her with a bitter understanding of the complications of growing up with magic in a Muggle world. Although Robert McGonagall loved his wife no less upon discovering that she was a witch, he was profoundly shocked by her revelation, and by the fact that she had kept such a secret from him for so long. What was more, he, who prided himself on being an upright and honest man, was now drawn into a life of secrecy that was quite foreign to his nature. Isobel explained, through her sobs, that she (and their daughter) were bound by the International Statute of Secrecy, and that they must conceal the truth about themselves, or face the fury of the Ministry of Magic. Robert also quailed at the thought of how the locals – in the main, an austere, straight-laced and conventional breed – would feel about having a witch as their minister’s wife.

Love endured, but trust had been broken between her parents, and Minerva, a clever and observant child, saw this with sadness. Two more children, both sons, were born to the McGonagalls, and both, in due course, revealed magical ability. Minerva helped her mother explain to Malcolm and Robert Junior that they must not flaunt their magic, and aided her mother in concealing from their father the accidents and embarrassments their magic sometimes caused.

Minerva was very close to her Muggle father, whom in temperament she resembled more than her mother. She saw with pain how much he struggled with the family’s strange situation. She sensed, too, how much of a strain it was for her mother to fit in with the all-Muggle village, and how much she missed the freedom of being with her kind, and of exercising her considerable talents. Minerva never forgot how much her mother cried, when the letter of admittance into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry arrived on Minerva’s eleventh birthday; she knew that Isobel was sobbing, not only out of pride, but also out of envy.

School Career

As is often the case where the young witch or wizard comes from a family who has struggled with its magical identity, Hogwarts was, for Minerva McGonagall, a place of joyful release and freedom.

Minerva drew unusual attention to herself on her very first evening, when she was revealed to be a Hatstall. After five and a half minutes, the Sorting Hat, which had been vacillating between the houses of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, placed Minerva in the latter. (In later years, this circumstance was a subject of gentle humour between Minerva and her colleague Filius Flitwick, over whom the Sorting Hat suffered the same confusion, but reached the opposite conclusion. The two Heads of house were amused to think that they might, but for those crucial moments in their youths, have exchanged positions).

Minerva was quickly recognised as the most outstanding student of her year, with a particular talent for Transfiguration. As she progressed through the school, she demonstrated that she had inherited both her mother’s talents and her father’s cast-iron moral sense. Minerva’s school career overlapped by two years with that of Pomona Sprout, later Head of Hufflepuff House, and the two women enjoyed an excellent relationship both then, and in later years.

By the end of her education at Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall had achieved an impressive record: top grades in O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, Prefect, Head Girl, and winner of the Transfiguration Today Most Promising Newcomer award. Under the guidance of her inspirational Transfiguration teacher, Albus Dumbledore, she had managed to become an Animagus; her animal form, with its distinctive markings (tabby cat, square spectacles markings around eyes) were duly logged in the Ministry of Magic’s Animagus Registry. Minerva was also, like her mother, a gifted Quidditch player, although a nasty fall in her final year (a foul during the Gryffindor versus Slytherin game which would decide the Cup winner) left her with concussion, several broken ribs and a lifelong desire to see Slytherin crushed on the Quidditch pitch. Though she gave up Quidditch on leaving Hogwarts, the innately competitive Professor McGonagall later took a keen interest in the fortunes of her house team, and retained a keen eye for Quidditch talent.

Early Heartbreak

Upon graduation from Hogwarts, Minerva returned to the manse to enjoy one last summer with her family before setting out for London, where she had been offered a position at the Ministry of Magic (Department of Magical Law Enforcement). These months were to prove some of the most difficult of Minerva’s life, for it was then, aged only eighteen, that she proved herself truly her mother’s daughter, by falling head-over-heels in love with a Muggle boy.

It was the first and only time in Minerva McGonagall’s life that she might have been said to lose her head. Dougal McGregor was the handsome, clever and funny son of a local farmer. Though less beautiful than Isobel, Minerva was clever and witty. Dougal and Minerva shared a sense of humour, argued fiercely, and suspected mysterious depths in each other. Before either of them knew it, Dougal was on one knee in a ploughed field, proposing, and Minerva was accepting him.

She went home, intending to tell her parents of her engagement, yet found herself unable to do so. All that night she lay awake, thinking about her future. Dougal did not know what she, Minerva, truly was, any more than her father had known the truth about Isobel before they had married. Minerva had witnessed at close quarters the kind of marriage she might have if she wed Dougal. It would be the end of all her ambitions; it would mean a wand locked away, and children taught to lie, perhaps even to their own father. She did not fool herself that Dougal McGregor would accompany her to London, while she went to work every day at the Ministry. He was looking forward to inheriting his father’s farm.

Early next morning, Minerva slipped from her parents’ house and went to tell Dougal that she had changed her mind, and could not marry him. Mindful of the fact that if she broke the International Statute of Secrecy she would lose the job at the Ministry for which she was giving him up, she could give him no good reason for her change of heart. She left him devastated, and set out for London three days later.

Ministry Career

Though undoubtedly her feelings for the Ministry of Magic were coloured by the fact that she had recently suffered an emotional crisis, Minerva McGonagall did not much enjoy her new home and workplace. Some of her co-workers had an engrained anti-Muggle bias which, given her adoration of her Muggle father, and her continuing love for Dougal McGregor, she deplored. Though a most efficient and gifted employee, and fond of her much older boss, Elphinstone Urquart, Minerva was unhappy in London, and found that she missed Scotland. Finally, after two years at the Ministry, she was offered a prestigious promotion, yet found herself turning it down. She sent an owl to Hogwarts, asking whether she might be considered for a teaching post. The owl returned within hours, offering her a job in the Transfiguration department, under Head of Department, Albus Dumbledore.

Friendship with Albus Dumbledore

The school greeted Minerva McGonagall’s return with delight. Minerva threw herself into her work, proving herself a strict but inspirational teacher. If she kept letters from Dougal McGregor locked in a box under her bed, this was (she told herself firmly) better than keeping her wand locked there. Nevertheless, it was a shock to learn from the oblivious Isobel (in the middle of a chatty letter of local news) that Dougal had married the daughter of another farmer.

Albus Dumbledore discovered Minerva in tears in her classroom late that evening, and she confessed the whole story to him. Albus Dumbledore offered both comfort and wisdom, and told Minerva some of his own family history, previously unknown to her. The confidences exchanged that night between two intensely private and reserved characters were to form the basis of a lasting mutual esteem and friendship.

Marriage

Through all her early years at Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall remained on terms of friendship with her old boss at the Ministry, Elphinstone Urquart. He came to visit her while on holiday to Scotland, and to her great surprise and embarrassment, proposed marriage in Madam Puddifoot’s teashop. Still in love with Dougal McGregor, Minerva turned him down.

Elphinstone, however, had never ceased to love her, nor to propose every now and then, even though she continued to refuse him. The death of Dougal McGregor, however, although traumatic, seemed to free Minerva. Shortly after Voldemort’s first defeat, Elphinstone, now white-haired, proposed again during a summertime stroll around the lake in the Hogwarts grounds. This time Minerva accepted. Elphinstone, now retired, was beside himself with joy, and purchased a small cottage in Hogsmeade for the pair of them, whence Minerva could travel easily to work every day.

Known to successive generations of students as ‘Professor McGonagall’, Minerva – always something of a feminist – announced that she would be keeping her own name upon marriage. Traditionalists sniffed – why was Minerva refusing to accept a pure-blood name, and keeping that of her Muggle father?

The marriage (cut tragically short, though it was destined to be) was a very happy one. Though they had no children of their own, Minerva’s nieces and nephews (children of her brothers Malcolm and Robert) were frequent visitors to their home. This was a period of great fulfillment for Minerva.

The accidental death of Elphinstone from a Venomous Tentacula bite, three years into their marriage, was an enormous sorrow to all who knew the couple. Minerva could not bear to remain alone in their cottage, but packed her things after Elphinstone’s funeral and returned to her sparse stone-floored bedroom in Hogwarts Castle, accessible through a concealed door in the wall of her first-floor study. Always a very brave and private person, she poured all her energies into her work, and few people – excepting perhaps Albus Dumbledore – ever realised how much she suffered.

J.K. Rowling’s thoughts

Minerva was the Roman goddess of warriors and wisdom. William McGonagall is celebrated as the worst poet in British history. There was something irresistible to me about his name, and the idea that such a brilliant woman might be a distant relative of the buffoonish McGonagall.

A small sample of his work will give a flavour of its unintentional comedic value. The following was written as part of a poem commemorating a Victorian railway disaster:

Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay! Alas! I am very sorry to say That ninety lives have been taken away On the last Sabbath day of 1879, Which will be remember’d for a very long time.

[glowstar826]

for the character ask, Albus Dumbledore and Violet Crawley

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE:

I like Albus Dumbledore a lot. The way he thinks intrigues me. I’m fascinated by how his covers his ruthlessness with a grandfatherly façade.

I ship him with Gellert Grindelwald. I feel like Grindelwald was his first and only love, and when Grindelwald tore Albus’s family apart, he was very careful to never fall in love ever again.

My non-romantic OTP for this character is with Severus Snape. I love their complicated yet genuine friendship. Sometimes, I feel like Albus saw Severus as a son, of sorts. Even though he used Severus horribly, he still had affection for him. @professorss19 writes mighty good and accurate fanfics on their father-son relationship. My other non-romantic OTP for Albus is Minerva McGonagall. In fact, I like Albus, Minerva, and Severus together as a little family. It’s sweet, seeing how Albus and Minerva get the son he never had and Severus gets the father and mother he never had.

My unpopular opinion is that Dumbledore wasn’t a bad person, but he was very gray (I say unpopular because there’s a lot of Dumbledore hate in the fandom). In fact, I think he’s grayer than Severus Snape is proclaimed to be. He was the war general, so he had to make tough decisions.

I wish Dumbledore took Harry out of his abusive situation and let him live with Sirius. Perhaps the blood wards protected Harry from Death Eaters, but it did no shit for the abuse he suffered at the hands of his aunt, uncle, and cousin. Growing up fearing an outside threat is always more preferable to living with said threat.

VIOLET CRAWLEY:

I love her! She’s pretty badass in her own way and has all these amazing one-liners. Her sense of self and her confidence is also something to admire.

I would say Prince Kuragin, but even he’s meh. I don’t ship her with anybody.

My non-romantic OTP for her is with Isobel Crawley. Though they clashed very much, they became great friends later. That’s what mattered.

I don’t have any opinions on Violet, I don’t think. Nor do I have anything that I wish happened in canon.

Thanks for the second set of character asks, @downton-not-downtown-smh!

[minerva--mcgee]

McGonagall with the Marauders #9 - In The End

She let out a deep breath and sat on the end of her bed, reaching up and rubbing her sore shoulder. Rolling out her neck, Minerva made her way closer to the headboard and laid down on her back and pulled a blanket over her. After a rather uneventful day, she felt more tired than usual.

Her eyes drifted closed and the night slipped away into darkness - until a few hours later, she heard a familiar voice whispering to her.

“Minnie,” said the voice gently, “Minnie, it’s time to go.”

Minerva opened her eyes and saw her husband Elphinstone for the first time in years. She gasped at the sight of him. The last time she remembered him, he was cold and pale, the blood having rushed out of his body. Minerva had been the one to discover him by the lake. He looked older than he ever had. But this time - this time he was young, like he was when they first met. He was wearing his best robes.

His hand reached out to hers, and she hesitated for a moment before taking it in hers. He pulled her up to him, their bodies touching. Minerva noticed that the pain that had grown to accompany movement over the years was gone.

“Phin,” she breathed, putting her forehead against his. They sat together for a moment, before he pulled back to look at her again.

“Minnie, you’ve done so well,” he used his hand to stroke the side of her face, “I’m so, so proud of you.”

“I’ve missed you so much.”

Silence. And then, “Are you ready to go?”

Minerva was confused, and looked around the room. She looked back at the bed and saw that he body was still laying, appearing to sleep peacefully under the covers. She waited to watch her chest rise and fall, but it did not. Her eyes met his again.

“Yes, Phin. I think I am.”

She caught a glimpse in the mirror behind him, and finally noticed that they both were not solid - rather, they were translucent, the clear appearance of ghosts. Like Phin, she looked like she had in her twenties, at her prime. She did not have the scars of war that not laced her body,  Something moved near the doorway of the room, and she saw the figures of her mother and brothers waiting for her. Malcolm and Robbie both had their shit-eating grins on their faces that she remembered.

“Headmistress McGonagall,” said Malcolm teasingly. “You’ve done well, sis.”

“The most feared and respected!” echoed Robbie.

Her mother, Isobel, came forward and hugged her. “You’ve had a long, full life, Minerva. You deserve rest.”

A crashing sound came from the opposite side of the room. “Oh! Sorry we’re late, Minnie!”

She snapped her head over and saw five more figures had suddenly appeared.

“Damn! We missed her reunion with Phin!”

“This is all your fault, Moony!”

“She deserves respect, Prongs - did you want to be here to watch her die!”

The suave figure of Sirius Black turned to great her. “Minnie!” he said cooly, “You look good, Minnie.”

“Oh, stop, Sirius,” said Lily, approaching Minerva. “Are you ready to go?”

Minerva felt herself truly laugh for the first time in many, many years. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

“Great!” said Nymphadora Tonks. “We don’t have much time down here - let’s go ahead and go.”

“Real smooth, Nymphadora,” said James Potter, teasing her. She turned to glare at him, but Lily stopped her. Phin turned back to her.

“Let’s go, my love.”

With one last look at her body, she finally felt safe.

The next morning, her room was found by Filius Flitwick, without the ghosts, and the peaceful body of the most renown Headmistress in the history of Hogwarts, with a small smile on her face.

[thealbinoferret]

My real name is Isabelle Ross so to say I’m ecstatic about being a canon Harry Potter character is an understatement

[nayeliq1]

Every show needs a sassy old Lady character that's just there to slay the others with every sentence coming out of her mouth!

[bowtomycoolscissors]

A Fanfic Idea That I Never Wrote

Ok, so I had an awesome fanfic idea: to focus on two random people from the Wizarding World. Ellen Cracknell & Robert McGonagall Sr.

Now, if you don't know these people, this is how it is given in Pottermore:

Ellen Cracknell was the Muggle mother of Dolores Umbridge. She married the wizard Orford Umbridge and had two children: a daughter, Dolores, and a son born as a squib. Her marriage with Orford Umbridge was not a happy one. Orford blamed Ellen for the birth of their Squib son, and Dolores came to loathe her mother not only for her Muggle heritage but also for her flightiness and untidiness.

Reverend Robert McGonagall Senior was a Muggle and Presbyterian minister who lived in Caithness, Scotland, during the early twentieth century. He married Isobel Ross, and together they had three children: Minerva, Malcolm, and Robert Junior; all of them wizards.

"Now, I know what you're thinking:

wHy UmBRidge's mOm?

Because I feel like Ellen Cracknell and Robert McGonagall aren't talked about much and it would be really funny for Minerva to find out that her dad was best friends with Umbridge's mom.

Also, I IMAGINE ELLEN TO BE SCOTTISH SO IMAGINE HER GROWING UP IN CAITHNESS PEOPLE.

I also had a random headcanon that Ellen married Orford somewhere during the late 1950s and then had Dolores in 1961."

Imagine a young Ellen Cracknell meeting the Reverend Robert McGonagall Sr and developing friendships with both Robert as well as his young wife, Isobel. She invites Robert and Isobel to her wedding with Orford. Imagine Isobel getting the ✨wizard vibes✨ from Orford, who hasn't told his young bride that he is a wizard yet.

Imagine Minerva, years later, during OOTP, finding out that she knows Umbridge's mom.

I didn't write it for some reason though.

[dhr-ao3]

[Podfic] 'The Darkwood Wand' by ThebeMoon

[Podfic] 'The Darkwood Wand' by ThebeMoon https://ift.tt/HrjMvEV by thedramionearchives (dittanyanddreams) This is an audio podfic version of 'The Darkwood Wand' by ThebeMoon, recorded with author permission. Draco Malfoy is harsh and cold and hated at Hogwarts. And Draco is fine with this. He’s even casting the Vanishing Cabinet spell again, although for a much less nefarious purpose. This time he's using Harmonia Nectere Passus to link his bed with the bed of a willing witch. But something goes horribly wrong, and instead of the buzzy flirt Draco's been secretly meeting, his bed keeps delivering an extremely unamused Hermione Granger. So begins Draco’s travesty of an Eighth Year on probation, where nothing ever goes to plan and good deeds NEVER pay. His Divination classes are a disaster, his mother owls him daily prophecies of doom, a rabid she-weasel stalks him through the castle, and his mad roommate from Durmstrang plots to avenge the Dark Lord. Each day sparks an internal battle between Draco’s calculating Malfoy nature and his reckless Black side. Every night brings Granger back again, wreaking havoc with his body and mind. Draco is convinced he's headed straight back to Azkaban and he’s almost looking forward to the trip. Words: 64, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Romilda Vane, Sybill Trelawney, Isobel MacDougal, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Garrick Ollivander, Crookshanks (Harry Potter), Minerva McGonagall, Luna Lovegood, Cormac McLaggen, Poppy Pomfrey, Astoria Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, Horace Slughorn, Original Male Character(s) Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Divination, Slytherin, Slytherin Dungeons, Vanishing Cabinets (Harry Potter), Wandlore (Harry Potter), Humor, Polyjuice Potion (Harry Potter), POV Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, poorly executed seduction, Ravenclaw Culture, Xylomancy, Astrology, Scrying Mirrors, Numerology, Tarot, Negotiation Table, Magical Research Surveys and Studies, Magical Pythons, Fire-Breathing Chickens, Post-It Notes of Doom, Cursed objects, Strange Tea Parties, magical mirrors, Plants With Personalities, Snakes With Glasses, Slow Burn, Sexual Content, The Slug Club (Harry Potter), Mildly Dubious Consent, Suicidal Thoughts via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/iEtrH70 June 14, 2024 at 09:58PM

[hogwartsbypictures]

Robert, Isobel, Minerva, Malcolm & Robert McGonagall Jr.

Taken by Romina "you are such a beautiful family. Do you believe it's complete now?" McGregor in 1944"

**Young Minerva McGonagall Spam**

[nayeliq1]

Every show needs a sassy old lady character

Will you take a bit of advice from an old woman?

[persialiu]

ai

[brunuhvielle]

Minerva McGonagall was a Scottish half-blood witch, the only daughter of muggle Robert McGonagall and witch Isobel Ross. She also was the older sister of Malcolm and Robert Jnr. Minerva attended Hogwarts and was sorted into Gryffindor House, but it took the Sorting Hat five and a half minutes to decide if she was Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, which made her a Hatstall. During her seventh year she was appointed Head Girl.