Disclaimer: I would love to own these characters, however, even if I did I would not be able to meet J.K's brilliance…so perhaps it is best that she holds on to them. I own nothing in this story, I am simply trying to use the factual timeline of the story and fill in the gaps with my own perspective.
Spoiler: uhhh pretty much all the books. I don't think I mention that Dumbledore dies though….whoops. Well yeah so every book.
The sea rose high above the cliffs of Scotland on May 29 1935. The clouds above the glassy seaside town of Glasgow, were swirling gray wildly when a small raven haired babe was born. Her mother died almost instantly after the long labor. She had been a strong woman though with matching raven hair, with a stout heart she was extremely brave, brave till her last moment. The child would inherit this brave streak, perhaps through genes or perhaps through the last breath that escaped from the beautiful woman's lips like an infectious disease grasping for the child.
"Goddess" She had whispered, but it was barely audible. The beautiful woman's husband had heard it though and that is how the second raven haired beauty came to be called Minerva.
Minerva was chosen above the other goddess names because of its meaning. In Roman times the goddess Minerva had been the goddess of wisdom. The had seemed extremely appropriate seeing as how Minerva's great ancestor was none other than Godric Gryffindor himself.
The father was devastated about losing his wife and swore to always protect his daughter no matter what. True to his word he kept his promise until the end of his days sealing it in the pouring rain as he buried his dead wife. A shovel in one bloody hand, and a wee baby in the other tucked away in the crevices of her blanket.
Ewan McGonagall was not a Wizard, he didn't understand a lot of the stuff his wife did, but he did understand that it was a very complex and special thing and in his eyes that made his daughter all the more wonderful ( if not a little bit more intimidating) . Anyone that knew Ewan would know that he loved his daughter more than life itself, but Ewan did have his shortcoming's. He was a hard and strict man, he liked filling secure and in control so that made anything odd or magical from Minerva all that more difficult to handle. He didn't forbid it, in fact he admired it, but sometimes he couldn't help it if it got under his skin. As Minerva got older, and more odd parodies occurred Ewan McGonagall began to distance himself more and more form his daughter, something that greatly affected Minerva more than she would ever realize.
In 1941 with the world war raging in both the muggle world and the magical one and in every other world that could possibly exist, Ewan was almost relieved that he could not resist the British armies letters to join the fight. So with Minerva only six years old her father headed off to Germany never to return leaving Minerva in the care of Ewan's brother and his three children…this mistake made by a well intentioned Ewan, would greatly effect an already secluded Minerva into complete isolation from all wizarding life..not to mention friendly life. It wasn't that Ewan's younger brother was a bad man, it was that he and his family didn't understand Minerva at all, they became absolutely terrified of her infact. And in a time as dark as this in history with wars all around who wouldn't be afraid of a girl who brought thunderstorms whenever she was upset. Or who could move things with her mind. In the end, the decided it best not to talk to her or touch her, or make any contact with Ewan's girl anymore.
On one particular cold November morning the day or the oldest child's birthday 8 year old Minerva was sitting alone in the library when newly ten year old Martha and her seven year old sister Catherine came running into the room completely ignoring Minerva.
"Catherine, Catherine, quick, plait my hair for my birthday party." Said Martha jumping up and down on the spot.
"But Martha, I don't know how to ." Protested Catherine who looked as if she would cry at the thought. Minerva who was naturally outgoing and friendly but whose personality had been stifled due to the lack of human contact seized her chance and spoke up instantly.
"I can do plait braids, I'll do one for you Martha, I'd like to." Said Minerva jointly already standing and beaming from ear to ear. For Minerva knew not how to manually plait but she used her help source ( though she didn't really know what it was.)
"You?" Said Martha in a mocking way. Then she skeptically arched an eyebrow at her, holding her self straight up and looking at Minerva as if she had just walked in on a very important conversation.
"Well, yes" Whose confidence had not faltered, but her smile had.
"Uh alright then lets see what you can do!" Said Martha and though she said yes and said it smugly you could see the fear in her eyes. Martha turned her back and whispered something to Catherine who nodded. Minerva practically skipped to Martha for she was asked to do something. The plait itself turned out to be perfect and very pretty but the reason that Martha and Catherine screamed furiously and left the room was because Minerva had not once touched Martha's hair. From this instance on she had been locked away in the attic allowed to come down once in a while sometimes not for days. However, when Minerva was nine years old the family got word that Ewan, Minerva's father had been killed in action. When this happened perhaps they felt so sorry for the girl they attempted to be kind to her and allowed her old room. This lasted until Minerva got her Hogwarts letter two years later, at which time the family was more than willing to let her go, so she did.