Harry Potter oneshots

What they got wrong (MM)

AN

Fic written for the ao3 ladies of HP fest, this was week 2 and the prompt was 'mothers'. Post-battle/war look on Minerva's grieving.

Minerva McGonagall:

D.O.B: October 4th, 1935- (Present)

Spouse(s): Elphinstone Urquart (Deceased)

Children: N/A

Three out of four. Not bad for the ministry she thought; and of course, if it came down to technicalities, the fourth wasn't incorrect. She wasn't a mother, not biologically anyway.

So why did she feel this way? The paper in her hands shook as she signed her name at the bottom of the page. The information was correct and the last thing that the war office needed from her. Her own information joined the stack of documents on her desk; the stack of documents that contained information on the numerous deaths and injuries that had taken place in the battle. She had been through so much already, how could papers, official documents of all things be making her eyes water?

Perhaps because the ministry was wrong. She did have children, more than she could count. She did have children and more than she could count had died in front of her; some at her own hands, her own wand, her own spells.

The death eaters that people had covered with sheets and left in a corner, faces she barely recognised anymore. She wasn't meant to care but she did. How could she not? She had watched all of them enter Hogwarts as children; white as ghosts with fear or tickled pink with excitement. Every one of them. She had watched as they were sorted into their houses, nine out of ten ending up in Slytherin and all of those mistaking the meaning of ambition due to purist teachings. They had all been just out of her grasp.

Then there were her own cubs; Colin Creevey, Lavender Brown, Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin and by extension, Nymphadora Tonks. All too young and all too brave for their own good. If only they could have been more selfish, running away from the battle and hiding until it was over. Even if that meant others would be dead in their places. She would have traded places in a heartbeat. Colin Creevey and his awful camera but heavens it had reminded her of home. Lavender Brown, who had never stood out to her until the rumours of a love potion had gone spiralling around, how she wished she had sat that girl down and given her a stern lecture on how natural intelligence shouldn't be wasted. Fred Weasley, whose twin she would never again be able to look in the eyes and whose family would most likely never recover from the loss of that laugh. Remus Lupin, a man who had already lost his best friend, a Black, who should never really have been in her house but who she loved deeply all the same. Now there was another child who would grow up without his parents; family he would have plenty of, but parents couldn't be replaced, not really.

She had lost her friend, a colleague who was dark and brooding and who she had spent months hating. She had hated him despite the niggling feeling in the back of her mind. A feeling that had kept telling her that she didn't know the full story. It had just been so easy to hate him, but now... now his body was drained of blood and the shrieking shack had new stains and another life was gone.

All these people were her children. She knew them, she had, had a hand in raising them for years of their lives. How many tins of biscuits and cups of tea had she gone through after finding students out of bed? Students who had been crying because of homesickness, exam stress, family problems, future planning problems. She had even had to comfort the occasional student who thought they were dying but had only needed a trip to madame Pomfrey to receive a lesson on the complication of life that is the menstrual cycle. How many students had she held on their graduation day before even their own parents?

Even when they never looked back, they were still hers.

War. She put her head in her hands. A war started by men who lusted for power. One man determined to wipe others out and another, much as she had loved him, who had his mind so corrupted by his own power that he found the need to play chess without a board. All for a so called 'greater good'. What good was there now?

Now she had children hanging on by threads. Students who would return next year to a castle still bearing scars on its bricks that would match the patterns on their own skins. A so-called 'golden trio' who would never know peace from the public eye again. Four houses of children who would finally learn what it meant to be united while still holding different traits to higher standards. A change in the usual competitive nature of the school. A change that everyone would know had only come about because of a bloodbath.

Minerva McGonagall:

D.O.B : October, 4th, 1935- (Present)

Spouse(s): Elphinstone Urquart (Deceased)

Children: N/A

Current profession: Headmistress of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

Headmistress. That's what she was now, and it was her duty to raise these children in the manner they deserved, not as chess pieces, not as future politicians, not as heads of family lines, not as anything but the children who deserved a fair future, and a fighting chance at being whatever they wanted. Whoever they wanted.

These were her children. Even if it would only be for a few years.