Flora And Fawna [HARRY POTTER]

50

Rosie sighed, looking at the store's selection of monkshood. She wasn't terribly impressed with any of it but after a moment she weighed some out and put it in her sack. Petunia had been brewing more with it lately, because it appeared Danielle would be a common contractor of illnesses. She moved on to the next item on her list. Where on earth was she going to find bowtruckle spleen that time of year?

"Miss. Ev... Black?" Rosie heard someone behind her ask, changing the name they were going to use halfway through. A small smile lit Rosie's face as she recognized the voice that she had heard every day for seven years.

"Professor?" Rosie spun around to see the familiar face of the Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts. The older woman chuckled a little.

"We're no longer in school Miss. Black. You're free to call me by my name now," Rosie grinned right back, giving her a look.

"If I'm to call you Minerva, then I insist that you call me Rose."

Minerva gave Rosie a look, but allowed it. The two women momentarily forgot their shopping and moved to a more comfortable setting. The Leaky Cauldron.

*******

"So, Miss. Rose," it was as close to a consensus that Rosie could reach with the older witch, "What do you plan to do with yourself once you graduate from university?"

Of course the stern professor knew of Rosie's academic success, and even though Rosie wasn't a gryffindor like her sister had been Minerva had always been rather proud of the girl's success. It wasn't often that a muggleborn was able to make a name for herself. Rosie had been able to do that, and more. Lily and James Potter held a dear place in Minerva's heart, and when Minerva had checked into Harry over the years, he had always been happy under the care of his aunt.

Rosie frowned thoughtfully, looking down into her drink.

"I don't really know, honestly. I know I want to teach but I haven't been looking around as hard as I should. I love children, but oftentimes I find myself wishing for a little more difference in age. When I was teaching little children my brain began to melt, and when I was only teaching older children I wanted to strangle them."

Minerva smiled knowingly down into her own beverage.

"Yes, you'll run into that at times. It's one of the reasons I've always preferred teaching at Hogwarts, honestly. In a single day, you will teach seven different lessons to seven different age groups. If one year is being completely insufferable, another year will surely make up for it. I tend to plan my lessons around that, actually." Rosie leaned forward, obviously interested at that the professor had to say. "Have you ever thought about teaching at Hogwarts, dear?"

Rosie shook her head this time.

"Not really. There aren't ever any positions open. Of course there's always the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, but everyone who's gone to Hogwarts knows that position is cursed. It wouldn't really be an intelligent career decision to take the spot, only for a year."

Of course, Minerva understood as well. She would have to have been an idiot not to have noticed the quick turn around rate for the Dark Arts position. Each year the school struggled to find a professor to take over the position and each year the Teacher would have some ailment fall upon them and be forced to leave. There hadn't been a professor to hold the post for more than a year, in years. 

"Yes, well I can certainly understand your concerns. But I've always found the Defense Against the Dark Arts position to be a rather narrow field of study. It's useful, of course, but there is only so much one can go into the subject before the students practically teach themselves. In fact, Albus and I were just discussing this and he was telling me how he was thinking of another class he could add to the roster. A new one that might prove to be a little more helpful to the students."

Rosie perked up at that.

"Would you happen to have any suggestions, dear?"

Rosie thought back to her sixth year, when she discovered a used potions book filled with spells that hadn't been recorded in any other spellbook. She remembered the weeks and months she had spent teaching herself Latin, and she remembered her first success with creating her own spell. She had been feeling dreadful for no apparent reason, and had wagered that there was no more harm that could come from testing a spell out on herself. She had been cured with a wave of her wand.

"What about a class that teaches students to create their own spells, defensive, practical, transfigurative? It could be offered only to the older students to ensure that they wouldn't be trying to create a spell that already exists, and it would ensure that the next generation has some outstanding wizards. The ministry is always talking in the paper about needing creative witches and wizards in their ranks. An entire generation armed with spells no one's used before seems like a smart way to start."

Minerva's face turned thoughtful, before she finally nodded.

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Miss. Rose. It is my advice that you further your idea. Perhaps if you come up with a group of lesson plans and potential effects of this class, you could submit it to Dumbledore and he to the Board of Education, and you might just land yourself a job."

Rosie's first instinct was to was to deny Minerva, she would instantly assume that it wasn't anything special, that anyone could do the same thing, and that no student would ever want to learn about making their own spells. Rosie's first instinct was to deny because she certainly already had enough on her plate, without adding the chore of creating a lesson plan that might not even be used. Merlin help her if it was used and Dumbledore decided to hire someone else for the position. But there, after the initial two reactions, was an inkling of hope. And of intrigue.

It was certainly an interesting proposition. But Rosie set the thought aside for later, forcing her face to twist into an amused smile.

"That's a very generous offer, Professor, but let's not dwell on the future when this is a perfectly opportune moment to reminisce about the past."

Minerva chuckled and held her cup aloft to toast the idea.

"And reminisce we shall."

*******

Later that night, after Harry had put himself to bed, Rosie found herself seated at her best and staring at a blank piece of parchment. There was a ballpoint pen in her right hand and a glass of juice in her left. She knew what she needed to do.

Three months later Professor Minerva McGonagall would retrieve an owl, with a parcel that held nearly forty feet of parchment. Forty feet of carefully inked, neatly written lesson plans for a class dedicated entirely on teaching witches and wizards to create new spells.

And Minerva would remember that day in Diagon Alley, and then she would remember several occasions over the years when she thought at one time or another about Rosie Evans and her unique talent with dealing with children. Even as she was a child herself.

There were some people just meant to be teachers, and Rosie Black was one of them. Minerva would gladly pass the lesson plans on to Dumbledore.