Minerva McGonnegal sat back in her chair at the Headmistress' Desk. She glanced around the room, reminiscing the times when she was simply the Deputy Headmistress. She had been in charge of Hogwarts for well over ten years now, but the shock still sometimes crept up on her. She stood up and walked to the window and stared down at the Quidditch Pitch. The sun was low on the horizon and would set in an hour of two. Even now, the First years were practicing mounting their brooms. While normally no classes occurred on Saturday, she felt the new Flying instructor had a point; the First years needed all the help they could get as it was only taught for one year. She stared fondly at the new Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. One boy who had shocking powder blue hair was doing remarkable well. She smiled. Naturally Tonks' son was an impressive flyer. She would have to invite him to tea at some point. She remembered Albus Dumbledore doing the same with Harry when he was a student. Although many headmasters did not follow this practice, she felt that she should at least get to know him better and tea would do just fine. She saw the clean-shaven new professor blow his whistle and several students hovered into the air. Just as she suspected, the boy shot off like a bullet racing around the pitch, Oliver Wood yelling at him, almost assuredly demanding that he land at once. The moment the boy touched down, he took a magnificent bow in a mock self-congratulations. His friends applauded. He then took a single step, tripped, and fell down.
"Yes," she thought to herself, stifling a laugh, "That's Tonk's boy for you,"
She turned and led herself back to her desk. Only yesterday, Professor Sprout had turned in her resignation that she would depart at the end of term. It was especially difficult for her as Professor Sprout was also her Deputy Headmistress and her absence would be keenly felt. She would need to find a new Professor of Herbology and also appoint a new Deputy Headmaster. The Deputy Headmaster appointment would be the easiest as she already had a handful of qualified professors who she had worked with for years and also relatively new professors that were hired following the Battle of Hogwarts. But she knew that there really was only one choice and made a mental note to offer the position to Professor Flitwick, a lifelong friend who taught Charms. She decided that she would ask him privately tonight following the Halloween Feast. As for the Herbology replacement, she had a pretty good idea of whom to ask. A former Gryffindor student who had an apt for the subject. She held her wand out in front of her, "Expecto Patronum" she said clearly. A silver tabby burst forth and immediately sat in front of her, awaiting her order, "To Master Longbottom," she began, "Please send word if you would be able to meet me at The Three Broomsticks at noon tomorrow. Minerva." The tabby dipped its head and turned and vanished.
Minerva smiled to herself. The former, shy, soft-spoken, young boy that once lost his house fifty points in his first year, assisting with informing the world to You-Know-Who's return, setting up a safe-haven during the climax of the wizarding world, and then destroying a source of the Dark Lord's power was still one of her favorite students. His parents who permanent residents at St. Mungo's, would have been proud of the man he became. So many lives were destroyed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers but she had to admit, that she felt worse for Neville than even Harry. He did not even remember the event and did not grow up with the effects. Neville, on the other hand, was raised a pure-blood, magical environment, saw his parents frequently and they did not recognize him. Although she knew it was fruitless, she wished that there was a way to reverse the effect of the Cruciatus Curse from Frank and Alice Longbottom.
Just then, another silvery object came floating in. She was expecting it to be her reply. But it looked different and the voice that came was not Neville Longbottom's but rather George Weasley, another former member of her house. "Come to the Burrow," it said. It then disappeared.
She knit her eyes. 'Come to the Burrow'. That was not a usual message. Normally there would be more information, a reason, a time. She glanced at her watch she inherited from her predecessor, frowned and pocketed it. She turned and disapparated on the spot.
As soon as she arrived at the Burrow, her green robes began to billow in the breeze. It was a cold October day, perfect for the Halloween Feast that night. However, she could smell so many delicious scents; yams, potatoes and wonderful dish she had once before as a young witch while traveling abroad in America. Something called a Pumpkin Roll. Without even needing to check she knew that Percy Weasley's new wife, Audrey, must have made it. Immediately after the Battle of Hogwarts, he had left to tour the world and met a young American witch by the name of Audrey Proctor. She had attended Illvenmorny but after meeting Percy's family, she moved to England had agreed any future children of their marriage would attend their father's school. She knew that he had two daughters: Molly, after his mother, and Lucy, after hers.
"Minerva," a familiar voice called to her. She gave one of her rare smiles and embraced the plump red-headed woman who was walking towards her from the doorway, "Hello Molly. Happy belated birthday. How are you?"
"Couldn't be better," the woman replied merrily, "Come in. I see you received word."
"I did, but I don't know what it is," Minerva replied honestly.
"Oh it's simply wonderful," Molly tittered happily, "Just head down the hall and make a left at the second door."
Minerva gave her a quizzical look, but did as she was told. She opened the door. In the room was George, sitting on a spare bed next to his wife, Angelina. Her black hair flowed all around her shoulders. Once long as a teenager, it now stopped shortly after her collarbone. Beside her was a little boy, who looked to be about five years old. Named after his late uncle, Fred looked very much like his mother. His skin was a light brown and he had curly black hair and dark brown eyes. He squirmed around on the bed and finally made himself comfortable under the crook of the woman's arm. The first thing she noticed about George was his injured ear was the first thing she noticed. It looked shriveled, charred, and dead, but somehow, she knew he could still hear a flying Bludger if one was heading his way. He turned to her, "Hello Professor."
She smiled, "You may call me Minerva now. You're no longer a pupil of mine. Not after that flight you and Fred took years ago."
He gave her a sheepish grin, "You have to admit, it was good flying and our pranks were extraordinary. All for that delightful…"
"George," Angelina replied, her voice warning him to not say a word that Fred could pick up on. "Language."
"Yes, dear."
"Angelina," Minerva asked turning to the woman, "Are you all right?"
"Oh yes," she smiled and dislodge little Fred from her arm and gestured to a small crib in the corner that Minerva now noticed. George walked over and scooped up the sleeping baby, "We wanted you to meet our daughter."
Minerva widened her eyes, "Well, this certainly is a surprise. George, why didn't you tell me?"
He laughed, "To see your reaction. She's a bit small. A little early, but overall she's healthy. Angie went into labor at Mum's 50th birthday party yesterday."
She smiled and looked at the youngest Weasley. She had light brown skin, brown eyes, and but her face was entirely a Weasley.
"Shame," she said with a straight face. "No red hair…"
Angelina laughed softly, "No, but she could always use magic to dye it."
"Or color it the Muggle way," George quipped as placed her gently into his old Head of Houses arms.
"Her name," he whispered, "is Roxanne Minerva Weasley."
Professor McGonagall looked shocked. This child was named after her?
"What?"
"Well," George said, crossing his arms nonchalantly, "You were the one who inspired Fred and I run after our dream of the joke shop. You gave us more lenience than we deserved, And let's face it, without you, we probably would have been expelled on our first day of school."
"When you convinced Peeves to swap the labels of the Potions in Snape's class and he almost poisoned you all during an experiment that should have simply stopped the hiccups?"
George grinned fondly, "Fun times, eh?"
"I wouldn't necessarily call it fun," she admitted, "still, you and Fred did leave a lasting impression for Hogwarts. Never, in all my life, did I ever encourage Peeves into mischief until you fled."
Angelina smiled, "all of the Professors did though. Besides, you were always so dedicated to us all. Not just Gryffindors but all students. We want Roxanne to have an idol to look to."
"I'm honored," she choked out. She looked down at the child she was holding. While she never had any children when she was married, she felt a special connection to all of the young witches and wizards that came through the doors at Hogwarts. But this one, she was special. She was named in honor of her!
"It's a beautiful name," she murmured, "And Roxanne?"
Angelina traded an exasperated look with George, "Do you want to tell her, or shall I?"
Minerva turned to the red head and raised a single eyebrow as if to invite the challenge.
George grinned sheepishly and scratched his head, "The names I was okay with were Roxanne or Rhea. Angelina flipped a coin for the name." He shrugged his shoulders, "Angelina won. But we both wanted her middle name to be yours."
Minerva couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of flipping a coin to pick the name. "Well," she said, hating to tear herself away as she handed the infant back to her mother, "I must be going. Tonight is the Halloween Feast so I must prepare the Great Hall. In addition, as Headmistress, it is my unfortunate duty to begin looking for a new Professor of Herbology. Professor Sprout has agreed to finish the year, and then plans to retire. She's earned it, but still…" she trailed off. "Happy Birthday, young one," she said, and with a wave of a wand, a beautiful soft, crimson blanket with a golden stitched lion appeared at the foot of the bed. In gold cursive stitching underneath the picture, were her initials 'RMW'.
"I hope to see you in my old house in a few years," Minerva murmured and gave the child a tender kiss after she placed the baby back in her father's arms and with a flick of her wand, she disapparated.
Well, this was one of my favorite chapters to write! The interaction between the Weasley twins and Minerva McGonegall always made me smile in the books so I had no doubt that George and Angelina would want to honor their old Head of House. Trying to connect the dots in them picking the name Roxanne was a bit more difficult. I figured that they, obviously, had to like the name and Roxanne means "dawn".
So, I took from personal experiences of my own birth. Firstly, Molly Weasley is born on October 30 and I knew prior to writing this I wanted Roxanne to be born on Halloween (because of course she would with her father and late uncle being pranksters that they were). So, I incorporated the almost-shared birthday into the story. I also share this trait with my paternal grandfather. It was always a special event for us both; we shared a cake and opened presents together, and endured endless photos (which we both hated) from Grandma and Mom. Secondly, the names. My parents decided not to find out my gender before I was born and while they had a boy name lined up, they had difficulty with a girl. My mom had about two hundred names. My father, had four names and refused to budge. He then rescinded two of them. They picked my name by the flip of a coin. Mom likes to tease Dad about this to this day as Mom won. (Although, honestly, I hate all four names that he gave as acceptable, so I go by Lyra online.)