Under the Table
*July 1949*
Minnie always had complicated feelings he about going home that summer after her second year at Hogwarts. She hoped it wouldn’t be like the summer before. But she doubted it. And the worst part, she was right. Her mother prayed for days when she was born she wouldn’t be a witch. She found that funny. Her father was the priest. The one supposed to be praying. But her mothers attempts where futile. Minerva was arguably bound to be one of the most powerful witches of the century within her first day. Her mother could feel the magic around her. Minerva grew closer with her father. She helped him on the small farm they had in their village. Her father was far too gentle and kind to raise animals to slaughter, so the only animals they had were 14 chickens to get eggs and one cow for milk. Minnie was sure how, but her father could always identify and recall the names of all 14 chickens. She knew of some of the names. She knew one was named Shelly but only because she was her father’s favorite. The cow was named Samantha. Samantha was large and mostly cream colored with dark Hazel eyes. Minnie found that rather than brown spots she seemed to more have brown smudges. The farm also had an wide assortment of vegetables ranging from rhubarb to cucumbers. Her favorite were always the strawberries. When she was little she’d eat so many her mother would be mad at her for spoiling her supper because of it.
Minnie always even somewhat enjoyed her father never understanding wizarding schools and exams. There just wasn’t as much pressure coming from it because of him. The only thing he wanted to be sure is that she could read and write and complete simple maths problems. So, he taught her over the summer. Maths she understood fairly quickly so they only did short review over the summer, but you can never know enough reading and writing. There was always more to learn. More books to read and ideas to write about. She could read for days. Whenever she’d be back over summer holiday her father would hand her a stack of books of his favorites, she’d read them then they’d discuss. Her younger brother Malcolm was eight and her youngest brother, Robert Jr. was only five. While neither of them were at Hogwarts they were u doubtably wizards. However, unlike Minnie, they don’t fully understand they can’t use their magic everywhere freely so they spend more time with their mother who teaches them not to. Minerva does not like this. She wishes she was closer with her brothers, however they still all had long lives to live so she always had later.
Minerva enjoyed her summers with her father, but her mother never did. Her mother upset that she was closer to him when he was a muggle. This she partly understood. Almost all her muggle born friends and half blood friends tend to grow apart from the muggles. Nothing against them just their respective worlds needed them and it was difficult to jump between them. Maybe this is what happened between her mother and father she wondered. They’ve always loved each other and still do she doesn’t question it. However, they don’t see each other the same since her mother told her father she was a witch, which wasn’t until after her birth. Maybe if she had told him sooner they’d all be closer. Maybe not. Always worth wondering though. But, if Minnie could wish it, she’d wish to grow up to be more like her father than her mother. Her mother is just less practical and more idealistic she fears. Her father would probably be an optimist, but still works hard and is incredibly smart and kind, whereas her mother named her after the powerful witch that was her grandmother and was upset when she was born to be a powerful witch.
One particularly hot day when Minerva had eaten too many strawberries and spoiled her dinner, her mother brought up school.
“Minerva, I see you’re doing well in school.”
“Yes.” Minerva grinned, hoping she’d forgive the strawberries and maybe bring up how well she’d done in transfigurations.
But, she didn’t. Instead she went on to telling her brothers how it was there turn to help wash the plates and table after supper that night. So Minnie just helped bring her plate in to be cleared after the meal, went upstairs and bathed then got changed into her pajamas and would normally find her father if he wasn’t on a trip for work that week. So, she went to her room to read before bed. She didn’t sleep well that night.
*August 1949*
The next week when her father returned she was excited to tell him how well she’d done. Maybe her mother didn’t understand but he might she thought. At dinner that early night with the chickens making soft noises after being fed well, she brought it up.
“Dad, You won’t believe how well I did in school this past year!” She could feel her mothers state without looking. She wasn’t going to look. She didn’t want her opinion. She wanted her fathers. She wanted the opinion of the man who loved her not the woman who wished she was something she wasn’t.
“I do believe it how week you, how did you do?” He asked, also not turning towards his wife.
“Well I did well across all subjects but especially transfigurations!” She told him, excitedly.
“We could have a little healer on our hands.” Her mother muttered.
“Hmmm I’m not sure if I really want to be a healer though.” She said. She wanted the fight. She wanted to show her father this is who she is. She wants her to be who she wishes she was not who she wants to be.
“Oh well then what do you want to be?” Her mother questioned sarcastically as if there was not other option.
“Maybe an Auror?” Minnie phrased it as a question. It wasn’t a question.
“Ooh what’s that?” her father questioned.
“Somewhat like the wizarding police.” Minnie said looking in her fathers eyes.
“No why would you do that when you can be a healer?” Her mother questioned accusingly.
“I want to help people.”
“You can do that as a healer.”
“No that’s only after bad things happen aurors help while and before bad throngs happen.”
She said this looking in mother in the eye and her mother looked her in the eyes as she kicked her under the table.
Dinner was fairly silent after that. Her father didn’t ask more about aurors and her brothers stayed in their shared room and her parents stayed in their room, trying to forget it. She found it funny that her, one of the most promising half-blood witches was closer with her muggle father than her witch mother. But that’s how it was. She read her transfigurations book that night. Studying all the spells she already knew before she’d soon get her new book for the upcoming term.