DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters belong to J.K. Rowling and are used here without permission for no personal gain. All others (a.k.a. the McGonagall-Dumbledore girls) belong to me and my sister and cannot be used without our permission.
Author's Note: The McGonagall-Dumbledore girls are the invention of my sister Kitlee and me. I first came up with Vicky in my fic "Once Upon A Time." But then my sister rescued her from her untimely demise, and we gave her an older sister, Tabby, and finally a younger sister, Lizzie. Anyway, this story is about Tabby. If you're wondering, the other stories in which the M-D girls show up are "What Dumbledore Saw" (*very* briefly) and "One Summer Day," both by my sis. Anyway, as always please r/r.
Author's Note (revised): My sister and I decided to erase the Dumbledore-McGonagall romance, but we love the M-D girls too much to kill them off. Therefore, I edited this so that they are the daughters of Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore's son Richard, a former Hogwarts professor who died shortly after Lizzie was born. Therefore, they are Professor Dumbledore's granddaughters, not daughters, but he still dotes on them and considers them his "little girls" because he only had three sons, no daughters, and his remaining sons both hate him. So the relationships haven't changed too much, except that now McGonagall and Dumbledore have a platonic, student-teacher, kind of child-parent relationship, not a romantic one.
The Vixen
Part One--Breaking Up Is Hard To Do
If you ever ask my ex-boyfriend Bill about me, he'll always say the same thing. "Oh, the vixen," he'll say, grinning wryly and rolling his eyes a bit. "Stay away from her. She'll rip out your heart and stomp on it before you can say 'Petrificus Totalus,' all with a smile on her face."
Ask his mother, Molly Weasley, about me, though, and you get an even more negative response. Her lips will form a thin line, and she'll say, "That scarlet woman?" and let her disapproving frown say the rest.
Personally, I think all of that's awfully unfair. It's not entirely my fault that everything between Bill and me went sour. Mostly, but not entirely. But anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself.
Of course Bill didn't always call me "the vixen." When we were at Hogwarts, we were good friends from the moment we sat down on the train together. (I had begged my father to let me ride the train with the other students even though I lived with him in Hogwarts.) We dated for two years, beginning in our fifth year when we were both made prefects. In our seventh year, we were named Head Boy and Girl. He was the oldest Weasley son, and I was the oldest McGongall-Dumbledore girl, granddaughter of Professor Dumbledore. Everyone said that we were made for each other, the perfect couple.
Oh, we were happy enough. We talked a lot and went places together during Hogsmeade weekends. We sat together at meals and at Quidditch games. We spent long hours studying in the library or sitting in the Gryffindor common room together. And of course we spent long hours doing other, "adult" things. We snuck all over school together, undressing each other in empty classrooms, secluded fields, and out-of-the-way corridors. But it was never really serious. It was just a fun, sweet teenage relationship, completely meaningless and inconsequential. At least, that's how I always viewed it. Bill for his part never sent me any signals that he felt otherwise, but then again he never indicated that he felt the same way. I simply assumed that he understood that this was nothing more than a Hogwarts romance.
Of course everything changed at the end of our seventh year. It was midnight on the night after graduation, and Bill and I were up in the highest room in the Astronomy Tower, rolling around on the floor. The next morning we would be going home--him to the Burrow, me to my mother's flat in Hogsmeade--so we were having a bit of last-minute fun.
We rolled apart, breathing hard. I turned to look at him and giggled. He had a really cute expression on his face, kind of hopeful and sweet. "What is it, Bill?"
What he did next completely shocked me. He got up and knelt on the floor, one knee bent. He held my hand in both of his and looked deep into my eyes.
"Tabitha," he said, "I love you more that I will ever love anyone else. I can't imagine being without you. Will you marry me?"
I laughed.
Instantly, his face fell. "Tabby?" he said, confusion evident in his voice. "W-w-what?"
The laughter died the moment I saw his expression. "You can't be serious," I said in disbelief.
"Of course I'm serious!" he yelled. "Why wouldn't I be serious? I just asked the girl I love to marry me!"
"Bill...I...I thought you were joking. You must be joking. We can't get married."
"Why not?" he demanded. "I love you, and you...well, at least I thought you loved me."
"Bill," I struggled to put my feelings into words. "We're just kids, Bill! We can't get married."
"We've been together for two years, Tabby," he began.
"Yes, but that was just a school romance. It didn't mean anything."
From the look on his face, I could tell that this was exactly the wrong thing to say.
"It didn't mean anything?" he repeated incredulously. Angrily, he grabbed his clothes and began to dress.
"Bill..." I reached out and touched his arm. "Bill, please don't be angry."
"Oh, why should I be angry," he said as he pulled on his shirt. "I ask my girlfriend to marry me, and she laughs and tells me that our relationship didn't mean anything. Oh, what's there to be angry about?"
"Bill please," I said, standing and putting my arms around him.
He pushed me away. "Just leave me alone, Tabby. I don't want to talk to you." With that he turned and marched down the stairs, leaving me alone in the tower.
*****
Bill was cold to me the next morning, ignoring my greeting and my plea for him to talk to me. His friends were too, giving me angry looks during breakfast and steering clear of me as we prepared to leave. I was hurt and confused. It was not like I was a slut or something. I had had other boyfriends before Bill, but he was the only one that had been more than a passing crush. I had certainly never slept with anyone else. And yet from the moment I refused his proposal, the entire school began to condemn me, labeling me "the vixen."
I felt hurt and extremely upset. All day I felt as though I were walking through a cloud. I could not focus on anything. Instead I kept replaying the previous night. Of course I understood why Bill was hurt, but his proposal had completely shocked me. The moment the words had left his mouth, I had felt completely frozen, unsure what to do. And then a thought passed through my mind. 'It's just a joke,' I thought. 'He must be kidding. He can't possibly be serious.' The idea that he would want to marry me after dating for only two years while at Hogwarts was so outrageous that the only thing I could think was that it must be a joke. Even now I could not believe that he had asked me to marry him, but the angry stares I received from Bill's brother Charlie as he packed his bags onto the train assured me that the events of the previous night had not been a dream.
Finally everyone had left. I collapsed on my bed in our summer cottage in Hogsmeade and finally allowed myself to cry. I buried my face in the blankets and sobbed until no more tears would come. Then I rolled over and stared at the ceiling. I felt awful that I had hurt Bill. However unintentional my actions had been, the look on his face when I had laughed assured me that our friendship was over. That had always meant more to me than our romance, and I felt empty knowing that I had lost it forever. The thought that I had destroyed our relationship filled me with grief and guilt.
My grandfather tiptoed up the stairs to the loft, knocking gently on the banister. He had moved in with us after my father's death a year ago, and I was glad to have him around. His kind, loving presence softened my father's absence.
"How are you Tabby?" he asked, his face lined with worry. He sat down on the bed and stroked my hair as I clung to him and cried.
"Oh Grandpa, I ruined everything," I sobbed. "Bill hates me now, and it's all my fault."
"Oh honey, I'm sure that's not true," he soothed me.
"Yes it is. He--he asked me to m-marry him..."
"He did what?" my grandfather asked, pushing me away from him and staring at me. "You didn't say yes, did you?"
His face clearly showed his horror at the thought that I would no longer be his "biggest little girl," and I hastily reassured him. "No, of course not Grandpa. I thought it was ridiculous. I-I thought he was just joking, and I laughed at him." I sniffled. "But he was serious, and now he'll hate me forever."
"Shhh Tabby, it will all be fine," he reassured me. "I promise. Everything will be fine." After I had calmed down a bit, he added, "I know what you need. You should go away for a while and travel. I set up an account at Gringotts just for that purpose. You'll have a wonderful time seeing the world and meeting all sorts of interesting people, and you'll forget all about Bill Weasley." He smiled in the expectant way he did whenever he had a particularly wonderful Christmas present for me and couldn't wait for me to unwrap it.
"Really Grandpa?" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around his neck. "Oh Grandpa, you're the best." But then my joy faded. "But I can't go away. What about Mom? She'll never let me go, especially since..." I let my voice trail off. Neither of us needed to mention why I could not leave now.
But my grandfather surprised me even more with what he said next.
"Tabby, you need to get away from things, to see the world. Not just because of Bill Weasley, but simply because of who you are. You know it. I know it. Even your mother knows it. If you were to stay here just to make her happy, it would only end up doing more harm than good. You were not meant to sit in Hogsmeade working at a little store for the rest of your life. You are destined for greater things, and no one can stand in the way of that: not your mother, not me, not even yourself."
Deep down I felt the truth of my grandfather's words. If I stayed home to help my mother raise my little sisters, five-year-old Vicky and one-year-old Lizzie, I could never be truly happy. I needed to get away and be out on my own.
The idea of seeing the world filled me with joy. Yes, this was exactly what I needed. Not only would it provide a much needed distraction from my recent break up with Bill, but I would finally get the independence I had always craved. I couldn't wait for my adventures to begin.
Author's Note: The McGonagall-Dumbledore girls are the invention of my sister Kitlee and me. I first came up with Vicky in my fic "Once Upon A Time." But then my sister rescued her from her untimely demise, and we gave her an older sister, Tabby, and finally a younger sister, Lizzie. Anyway, this story is about Tabby. If you're wondering, the other stories in which the M-D girls show up are "What Dumbledore Saw" (*very* briefly) and "One Summer Day," both by my sis. Anyway, as always please r/r.
Author's Note (revised): My sister and I decided to erase the Dumbledore-McGonagall romance, but we love the M-D girls too much to kill them off. Therefore, I edited this so that they are the daughters of Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore's son Richard, a former Hogwarts professor who died shortly after Lizzie was born. Therefore, they are Professor Dumbledore's granddaughters, not daughters, but he still dotes on them and considers them his "little girls" because he only had three sons, no daughters, and his remaining sons both hate him. So the relationships haven't changed too much, except that now McGonagall and Dumbledore have a platonic, student-teacher, kind of child-parent relationship, not a romantic one.
The Vixen
Part One--Breaking Up Is Hard To Do
If you ever ask my ex-boyfriend Bill about me, he'll always say the same thing. "Oh, the vixen," he'll say, grinning wryly and rolling his eyes a bit. "Stay away from her. She'll rip out your heart and stomp on it before you can say 'Petrificus Totalus,' all with a smile on her face."
Ask his mother, Molly Weasley, about me, though, and you get an even more negative response. Her lips will form a thin line, and she'll say, "That scarlet woman?" and let her disapproving frown say the rest.
Personally, I think all of that's awfully unfair. It's not entirely my fault that everything between Bill and me went sour. Mostly, but not entirely. But anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself.
Of course Bill didn't always call me "the vixen." When we were at Hogwarts, we were good friends from the moment we sat down on the train together. (I had begged my father to let me ride the train with the other students even though I lived with him in Hogwarts.) We dated for two years, beginning in our fifth year when we were both made prefects. In our seventh year, we were named Head Boy and Girl. He was the oldest Weasley son, and I was the oldest McGongall-Dumbledore girl, granddaughter of Professor Dumbledore. Everyone said that we were made for each other, the perfect couple.
Oh, we were happy enough. We talked a lot and went places together during Hogsmeade weekends. We sat together at meals and at Quidditch games. We spent long hours studying in the library or sitting in the Gryffindor common room together. And of course we spent long hours doing other, "adult" things. We snuck all over school together, undressing each other in empty classrooms, secluded fields, and out-of-the-way corridors. But it was never really serious. It was just a fun, sweet teenage relationship, completely meaningless and inconsequential. At least, that's how I always viewed it. Bill for his part never sent me any signals that he felt otherwise, but then again he never indicated that he felt the same way. I simply assumed that he understood that this was nothing more than a Hogwarts romance.
Of course everything changed at the end of our seventh year. It was midnight on the night after graduation, and Bill and I were up in the highest room in the Astronomy Tower, rolling around on the floor. The next morning we would be going home--him to the Burrow, me to my mother's flat in Hogsmeade--so we were having a bit of last-minute fun.
We rolled apart, breathing hard. I turned to look at him and giggled. He had a really cute expression on his face, kind of hopeful and sweet. "What is it, Bill?"
What he did next completely shocked me. He got up and knelt on the floor, one knee bent. He held my hand in both of his and looked deep into my eyes.
"Tabitha," he said, "I love you more that I will ever love anyone else. I can't imagine being without you. Will you marry me?"
I laughed.
Instantly, his face fell. "Tabby?" he said, confusion evident in his voice. "W-w-what?"
The laughter died the moment I saw his expression. "You can't be serious," I said in disbelief.
"Of course I'm serious!" he yelled. "Why wouldn't I be serious? I just asked the girl I love to marry me!"
"Bill...I...I thought you were joking. You must be joking. We can't get married."
"Why not?" he demanded. "I love you, and you...well, at least I thought you loved me."
"Bill," I struggled to put my feelings into words. "We're just kids, Bill! We can't get married."
"We've been together for two years, Tabby," he began.
"Yes, but that was just a school romance. It didn't mean anything."
From the look on his face, I could tell that this was exactly the wrong thing to say.
"It didn't mean anything?" he repeated incredulously. Angrily, he grabbed his clothes and began to dress.
"Bill..." I reached out and touched his arm. "Bill, please don't be angry."
"Oh, why should I be angry," he said as he pulled on his shirt. "I ask my girlfriend to marry me, and she laughs and tells me that our relationship didn't mean anything. Oh, what's there to be angry about?"
"Bill please," I said, standing and putting my arms around him.
He pushed me away. "Just leave me alone, Tabby. I don't want to talk to you." With that he turned and marched down the stairs, leaving me alone in the tower.
*****
Bill was cold to me the next morning, ignoring my greeting and my plea for him to talk to me. His friends were too, giving me angry looks during breakfast and steering clear of me as we prepared to leave. I was hurt and confused. It was not like I was a slut or something. I had had other boyfriends before Bill, but he was the only one that had been more than a passing crush. I had certainly never slept with anyone else. And yet from the moment I refused his proposal, the entire school began to condemn me, labeling me "the vixen."
I felt hurt and extremely upset. All day I felt as though I were walking through a cloud. I could not focus on anything. Instead I kept replaying the previous night. Of course I understood why Bill was hurt, but his proposal had completely shocked me. The moment the words had left his mouth, I had felt completely frozen, unsure what to do. And then a thought passed through my mind. 'It's just a joke,' I thought. 'He must be kidding. He can't possibly be serious.' The idea that he would want to marry me after dating for only two years while at Hogwarts was so outrageous that the only thing I could think was that it must be a joke. Even now I could not believe that he had asked me to marry him, but the angry stares I received from Bill's brother Charlie as he packed his bags onto the train assured me that the events of the previous night had not been a dream.
Finally everyone had left. I collapsed on my bed in our summer cottage in Hogsmeade and finally allowed myself to cry. I buried my face in the blankets and sobbed until no more tears would come. Then I rolled over and stared at the ceiling. I felt awful that I had hurt Bill. However unintentional my actions had been, the look on his face when I had laughed assured me that our friendship was over. That had always meant more to me than our romance, and I felt empty knowing that I had lost it forever. The thought that I had destroyed our relationship filled me with grief and guilt.
My grandfather tiptoed up the stairs to the loft, knocking gently on the banister. He had moved in with us after my father's death a year ago, and I was glad to have him around. His kind, loving presence softened my father's absence.
"How are you Tabby?" he asked, his face lined with worry. He sat down on the bed and stroked my hair as I clung to him and cried.
"Oh Grandpa, I ruined everything," I sobbed. "Bill hates me now, and it's all my fault."
"Oh honey, I'm sure that's not true," he soothed me.
"Yes it is. He--he asked me to m-marry him..."
"He did what?" my grandfather asked, pushing me away from him and staring at me. "You didn't say yes, did you?"
His face clearly showed his horror at the thought that I would no longer be his "biggest little girl," and I hastily reassured him. "No, of course not Grandpa. I thought it was ridiculous. I-I thought he was just joking, and I laughed at him." I sniffled. "But he was serious, and now he'll hate me forever."
"Shhh Tabby, it will all be fine," he reassured me. "I promise. Everything will be fine." After I had calmed down a bit, he added, "I know what you need. You should go away for a while and travel. I set up an account at Gringotts just for that purpose. You'll have a wonderful time seeing the world and meeting all sorts of interesting people, and you'll forget all about Bill Weasley." He smiled in the expectant way he did whenever he had a particularly wonderful Christmas present for me and couldn't wait for me to unwrap it.
"Really Grandpa?" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around his neck. "Oh Grandpa, you're the best." But then my joy faded. "But I can't go away. What about Mom? She'll never let me go, especially since..." I let my voice trail off. Neither of us needed to mention why I could not leave now.
But my grandfather surprised me even more with what he said next.
"Tabby, you need to get away from things, to see the world. Not just because of Bill Weasley, but simply because of who you are. You know it. I know it. Even your mother knows it. If you were to stay here just to make her happy, it would only end up doing more harm than good. You were not meant to sit in Hogsmeade working at a little store for the rest of your life. You are destined for greater things, and no one can stand in the way of that: not your mother, not me, not even yourself."
Deep down I felt the truth of my grandfather's words. If I stayed home to help my mother raise my little sisters, five-year-old Vicky and one-year-old Lizzie, I could never be truly happy. I needed to get away and be out on my own.
The idea of seeing the world filled me with joy. Yes, this was exactly what I needed. Not only would it provide a much needed distraction from my recent break up with Bill, but I would finally get the independence I had always craved. I couldn't wait for my adventures to begin.
