This is the story of a sixteen year old half French, half Irish girl living in the year 1944 by the name of Minerva McGonagall. This is the story of a family struggeling to hold itself together after a tragedy strikes. Exerpt From the Story: He would smile as passing strangers, at begger children in Dublin, at Paul and I, when he was pleased with us, and even when he wasn’t. He wasn’t an angry man, Paul and I rarely saw him upset. Until one day, the day before he died. The day my father died, it was the first time I hated him, I loved my father, but that day I hated him.