Disclaimer: I gain nothing but satisfaction, and all credit for characters and general concept goes to JK Rowling, the genius behind the world of Harry Potter.
"So Ends an Era"
"No," a stern voice informed the Headmaster's office. "I won't stay. I've met both boys over the years, and they're decent children separately, of course, but together? I can envisage volatile laboratories with less potential danger."
She rifled through some papers, shuffling them to neaten their pile. Sometimes, being surrounded by past Headmasters and Headmistresses was an honest headache, she thought as the general collection of noise amongst those who were awake grew louder.
"Come now, Minerva," one of the many portraits cajoled over the hubbub. It was Ellery Entwhistle; a somewhat blasé fellow according to the history books. "You're putting too much store in the past."
"I rather think I'm not," Minerva McGonagall argued. She gestured to a photo sitting in pride of place on her desk. A scruffy, bespectacled man sat with one hand on the knee of a flame haired woman, his other one delicately nursing a very new baby, while two young black haired boys stood between them, alternately staring at the baby and at the camera with wide, but pleased, eyes.
"Harry Potter was a small menace, but so much of his trouble came out of that dreadful business with Voldemort, his true personality was somewhat dampened. However, the times it did raise its head, there was more than a passing resemblance to his father."
She smiled at a memory.
"It was rather more apparent when Sirius was around," she added conscientiously, merely because it was true. "But, now, James the second – well! He's grown up in a world without fear of blood purists and war and he's had time to settle into exactly the person he wants to be, and it seems," Minerva drew out the word, "that he was quite impressed with dear old granddad's legendary presence, and his Uncle George's shop has always been his second home, and young Freddie his second brother."
"That means nothing substantial," Ellery Entwhistle scoffed, swilling the liquid in his drink as he looked out from his frame.
"Au contraire, Headmaster Entwhistle," she disagreed. "It means that James Potter and Fred Weasley spent almost every day of their childhood locked away in a room above the shop with left-over ingredients and a father who's proudest moment was when his eight year old son managed to dye one of his cousins hair black and red during a prank with only an incomplete Patented Daydream Charm, an assortment of sweets, and a fork to work with."
Entwhistle still had smidge of defiance in his expression.
"It lasted for three weeks. Louis Weasley was distraught. He said something about it 'hampering his progress through the horde'." She looked away, careful not stare at any of the more worldly Headmasters and Headmistresses directly in the eye. "I can't imagine what he meant by that, of course, but my point still stands: James Potter and Fred Weasley, two halves of the most legendary prankster teams Hogwarts has ever seen will be attending school together and, regardless of the fact that they are merely namesakes, by the time they graduate I will be utterly astounded if the school is still standing!"
She took a moment to regain her breath. "No. I have seen to the education of the beginning of this new generation; I won't see it through. I don't think my heart could take it."
She leaned back in her chair, looking up into the sea of portraiture.
"Personally, I think you've done a wonderful job, Minerva," a different voice spoke up. It was clear and familiar. "The occasion to take some time for yourself is upon you, I should think."
Two blue eyes twinkled.
"I've been teaching for a very long time," Minerva agreed thoughtfully. "And I'd never have been able to teach the whole family anyway." She looked at him decisively. "You know, I think you're right, Albus. I will take a holiday; somewhere far away from here - just for a little while - where it's warmer and doesn't threaten to snow in summer."
"I think you'll find a rather large collection of paid leave, incidentally, Minerva, that seems to have built up over the years," the portrait of Albus Dumbledore added too innocently for it to be believed. "And I remember hearing that Greece is lovely this time of year."
His neighbour, who happened to be the late Severus Snape, snorted.
"Oh be quiet Severus," Minerva admonished lightly, smiling despite herself; what an abominable idea! Her, Minerva McGonagall, sitting on a yacht somewhere out among the picture-perfect Greek Islands. Absolutely ridiculous. No, she'd figure out travel plans later. Right now she had other things to organise.
Like the promotion of a Charms Professor.
Yes, indeed, a holiday with paid leave, and a nice retirement at the end of it, leaving her happily out of the line of fire that would undoubtedly arise within the first few weeks of Fred Weasley II and James Sirius Potter's school lives.
And so would end the illustrious educational career of Minerva McGonagall, War Heroine and Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as they say, not with a fizzle, but with a bang. (Of course, it wasn't her making the bang; she'd leave that to the respected expertise of Freddie and James).
Minerva smiled.
End.
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