Elphinstone
*May-June 1972*
Minerva found she quite enjoyed quiet classrooms. Especially in the mornings. She could hear students starting to stir and go to breakfast and talk with friends as she arranged her classroom for the students. Today, particularly she enjoyed the quiet setting out of pieces of parchment with some of the last topics the students would learn that year before the final exam at the end of the year. As has happened every year, students tend to lose their ability to sit still as the end of the year grew closer. Some even tried to convince her that it was in fact too close to the end of the year for her to assign any work.
“Mr. Potter, if I may please ask you to settle in you seat…” Minerva pleaded.
“Minnie… do you think there’s ever been any wizard pirates?” Sirius interrupted.
“Mr. Black, If you wish…”
“Sirius! No! that’s not the real question. The real question is if there’s any famous wizards hiding as muggles!” James claimed.
It was then that Minerva gave up and assigned all the work as homework.
Minerva didn’t mind leaving Hogwarts for the summer. She like to catch up on reading. She has a small garden that she charms to take care of itself when she’s away at school. She has some neighbors that she enjoys catching up with. Of course it’s hard to call them friends though when she’s away most of the year. Of course she explains she’s a teacher and they all understand. She was married. His name was Elphinstone. He passed a few years ago. She’s always thought of him as a platonic husband. She hasn’t alway made an abundance of friends but those she has made are… or we’re very good friendships. Euphemia Potter being one. She’s her sister. Now seeing her less since she started teaching. And she isn’t sure how she would feel about showing up at her house when it’s her students house. She loved Elphinstone. She truly does miss him. Maybe she never loved him as a proper wife should. She worried about that a lot. She did love him. Possibly wrong. But she did love him all he could. She ever wondered if he could still be alive. He was a muggle and while all supportive of wizards, never trusted enough to head over to St. Mungos when he got sick. At least he died happy, Minnie hopes. She certainly mourned him. She’s accepted. But she’s fine now. And she’s not sure if she’s fine being fine. Because most widows she thinks aren’t ever fine again. She’s worried if she’s wrong by feeling fine. She feels almost… guilty.
She thinks she enjoys life at school better. As for the first few weeks back in the small village where she grew up, it’s nice to feel the quiet. But after awhile the quiet becomes too much.