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“Phin!” Minerva’s voice rang out happily through the cottage as she removed her outer-robes and rested them gently on the back of a chair. “Phin?”
She walked around the house, eager to tell her husband of her news. The Healer at Hogwarts and her best friend, Poppy Pomfrey, had concluded that morning that her nausea and discomfort weren’t just that - her eyes shone with happiness and she searched the house and called her husband’s name.
“Elphinstone?” she called once more as she concluded the search of the inside of the cottage. Defeated, she left the cottage and knocked on their neighbors’ door.
“Hello, Minnie,” said the woman in a pleasant voice. “Are you alright?”
“Hello, Euphemia,” she said. “I’m sorry to bother you, but have you seen my husband?”
“Yes, in fact, he was headed to the lake down the road a few minutes ago. Looked as if he was about to go fishing.”
Minerva smiled again. “Thank you, Euphemia! Tell Fleamont I said hello.”
The woman smiled and closed the door as Minerva turned and half-jogged toward the lake, lifting her robes gently as to not trip on them. When she arrived, she saw Elphinstone sitting against a tree with a red blanket underneath him and a fishing pole resting in front of him, the line reaching out into the water. Phin often enjoyed muggle pass-times, but fishing was definitely his favorite. Minerva knew he found it quite calming.
She ran up behind him and kissed him on the cheek, the smile on her face obvious. He was startled but immediately was filled with a sense of happiness when he realized it was his wife. He stood and they shared a nice and passionate kiss before they both sat on the blanket. Minerva removed her Gryffindor scarf and placed it on her lap, grabbing her husband’s hand.
“Minnie!” he exclaimed, the smile reaching his eyes. “What are you doing here? Not that I’m complaining, of course, I’ve missed you so much.”
“Thought I’d drop in and see you. It’s Sunday, dear, there are no classes today, and there’s a group of students in Hogsmeade right now anyway. It was an excuse to see you.”
His smile didn’t fade as he looked into her green eyes, and her back into his bright blue that put the lake to shame. “There’s something I have to tell you,” she said, breaking the eye contact and looking out across the lake.
“What’s wrong?” he said, not letting his eyes move from her face.
“I’ve been feeling sick this past week, vomiting and whatnot,” she said and swallowed the lump in her throat. “So I went to see Poppy, and she checked over me…”
He was concerned, and did not try to hide it from his handsome face. She turned back to him and a smile grew on her face. “Phin, I’m pregnant.”
His face grew into a wider smile than hers was. “Minnie, it’s not funny to joke with your husband about this.”
“No, Phin, I’m quite certain,” she said, her green eyes glowing. “I’m ten weeks along.”
Elphinstone stood up and pulled Minerva up with him and brushed a loose piece of black hair out of her face. “Minnie. Minnie, you’re pregnant!” he said excitedly.
“I’m pregnant,” she repeated. They shared a long kiss, both smiling.
“You’re going to be a mother! I’m going to be a father! We’re going to have a baby!”
“Yes, Phin,” she giggled. If any of her students saw that happen, she’d probably die of embarrassment, but after a quick look around, she confirmed that they were alone. She adjusted the hat on her head. “I’m going to be a mother.”
“Phin!” she called out, entering her cottage. The snow crunched beneath her boots, and she sat down, her back aching from her large stomach. When no one answered, she called again. After another few seconds in silence, she returned to her feet and began to search the small cottage, but it was empty.
A look of happiness spread across her face when she looked out of the window to their backyard and saw Elphinstone sitting on the bench, his back completely turned to Minerva. She exited the house through the back exit and went up to her husband and kissed him on the cheek merrily.
Wait, she thought. Something’s not right.
Indeed, he was extremely cold. Abnormally so, even though it was the beginning of March and there was still snow on the ground. It immediately registered to Minerva what was off.
His cold body was not due to the cold air, for when she spotted the bite on his leg and the blood that stained the pure snow, she shrieked an ungodly noise and began sobbing.
She reached her fingers around his neck and felt no movement of blood underneath the skin.
“Phin!” she screamed, and Euphemia, Fleamont, James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Peter emerged from their residence, rushing over to Minerva. When they realized the situation, James, Sirius, and Remus rushed forward and grabbed tightly to their Professor’s arms. Lily and Peter stood in front of her, trying to calm her.
She was in shock. She could hear someone screaming Phin’s name, but she couldn’t make out where it was coming from. Euphemia ran back and emerged a few minutes later with some Healers in tow behind her. Minerva had stopped fighting her students’ grasps, but stood still as she watched the Medics looking over her husband’s body and confirm his death.
“No!” she shrieked, and realized that the screaming she heard earlier was from her own lungs, her own voice. She was sobbing and she hadn’t realized it.
“Professor,” she heard Lily’s voice say softly as she placed a hand on the Transfiguration Professor’s shoulder. Minerva stood, frozen with her look of horror on her face, as she watched them take his body away. Finally, Flea and Mia turned back to her.
“James, Peter, Sirius,” said Flea’s voice. It did not register in Minerva’s head. “You three need to go back up to Hogwarts and tell Professor Dumbledore about the situation. You are not to speak to anyone on the way unless it is Professor Dumbledore or Madam Pomfrey. You are to fetch her too. Leave, now.”
The three boys rushed off toward the castle, leaving behind the five people.
“Minerva,” said Flea again softly. “Kids, help me get Minerva into the kitchen next door.”
And so, with the help of Lily Evans and Remus Lupin, two second-year Gryffindors, and her neighbors, Minerva McGonagall found herself sitting at a kitchen table with a warm cup of tea between her hands that she hadn’t sipped. She stared blankly at the table in front of her.
James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew entered the cottage with Albus Dumbledore and Poppy Pomfrey, the latter of whom was drenched in tears.
“Minerva?” said Albus softly, a look of sorrow plastered on his face. Minerva looked up at him, her expression empty.
“Alright, kids, it’s time for you to head back up to Hogwarts,” said Poppy, and they all got up and left. “Instruct Professor Flitwick of the situation and tell him to hold down the fort for a while, alright? You are not to tell anyone other than staff members of what happened tonight. Do you understand? No one.”
Poppy took Lily’s seat and Albus took Remus’, and they looked at Minerva. She finally broke and sobbed.
“Oh, my dear,” said Poppy, pulling her best friend into a hug. Minerva, however, quickly rebuilt her guards and the tears ceased.
“He was supposed to be a father,” she mumbled. “He’ll never get to be a father.”
Her hand reached down and rubbed her stomach. The baby kicked and she reached out and grabbed Poppy’s hand, placing it gently right where the baby had moved, and it moved again.
Poppy gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “He is a father.”
“Minerva,” said Poppy calmly. “Come on, give me a push!”
Minerva squeezed Albus’ and Pomona’s hand once more and pushed as hard as her body would let her. After a few pushes, she felt the release of pressure and panted, resting her head back on the pillow of her bed in the Hospital Wing.
The sound that she was listening for never came.
“Poppy? Why can’t I hear any crying?” she said, her breath still hard. Albus released her hand and walked over to the Mediwitch, whose back was turned to the new mother and the baby was on the table in front of her.
“Poppy,” Albus whispered so that Minerva could not hear. “What’s going on?”
She did not answer at first, but she was performing a number of charms on the small body. After nothing changed, she put her hands on the counter in exasperation and listened to the frantic cries of her best friend.
“Poppy, you tell me what’s happening right now, so help me god!” she was screaming.
“Albus,” the woman whispered almost inaudibly. “Albus, there’s no sign of life.”
“What’s going on?” Minerva demanded.
“Minerva,” she turned around, facing the woman, who was clinging desperately onto Pomona. All three women had tears streaking their faces. “Minerva, I’m so sorry.”
Minerva broke out into sobs and leaned toward Pomona, using her as support. Albus left the room.
“Albus!” said Filius, and the Headmaster looked around at all of the hopeful faces. Filius, Rolanda, Aurora, Horace, even Hagrid - they were all in the Great Hall, waiting for some news about the baby. The smile that was on Filius’ face wiped away when he saw the Professor’s grave expression. “Albus?”
“I’m afraid that the baby did not make it,” he said sadly, holding back his own tears. “Minerva is going to be very, very delicate right now - please show her your space as long as she doesn’t send for you.”
With that, he turned on his heel.
Meanwhile, Minerva had frozen in shock as she stared at her baby’s unmoving face. The blue blanket the he was swaddled in mocked her.
“He’s not a father,” she muttered, a tear splashing on the baby’s face. She reached out and wiped it away with her thumb. “I’m not a mother.”
“Minerva, you don’t have children…” said Harry.
Minerva’s heart broke.
She didn’t have children biologically, but it wasn’t her fault. It’s not as though she had ever told Harry about Elphinstone Jr, but her heart was crumpling in her chest.
He was wrong. She did have children.
Her children were the sixty-five years worth of children that attended Hogwarts. Her children were the children who sat in her office on Friday nights having tea and talking about Quidditch because their friends were worried about their self-harming issues. Her children were the children who transfigured their animals into water goblets and were upset when they didn’t get it on the first try. Her children were the children who sat on the stool in front of the entire Great Hall, shaking with nerves while she placed the Sorting Hat gently on their heads. Her children were the ones who she gave caring smiles to when she knew they were going through rough times. Her children are every child who has gone to Hogwarts in the last sixty-five years, including the one sitting in front of her now, who had children of his own now, who were also her children.
She may have never raised a child that she gave birth to, but that’s not to say she wasn’t a mother.