Right ok, so I’m a hard core shipper of Donna Shacklebolt and Jack Lathe but at the same time I love the idea of Donna being Angelina Johnson’s mother. So I was racking my brain to come up with a solution to merge the two. This is what I’ve got.
Donna does become a kick ass auror but gives it up when she gets pregnant with Lathe. She has the baby and names her Angelina. Determined that she will not make the same mistakes her parents did and adamant that she won’t leave her child alone in this world (they’re both already on the death eaters hit list), her and Lathe decide to up and leave the country. They move to some foreign land (possibly with Donnas younger siblings, maybe not) and change their name to Lathes mothers maiden name Johnson. They live the first few years of Angelina’s life happily and peacefully and have meaningful jobs in this new country’s ministry. Some years after lily defeats Voldemort they return to England and Angelina starts Hogwarts. Donna hears that Harry is alive and well and decides not to interfere in his life. When Harry starts Hogwarts she and lathe enjoy stories from Angelina about Harry and the Weasleys. They survive the second wizarding war without fleeing this time. (Their daughter proudly fights and they help out the order from the side lines). A couple of years after the battle of Hogwarts, Harry finds out about his mums old best friend from a letter of Remus’s and with hermione’s help works out she’s Angelina’s mum, and through Angelina meets Donna for the first time (and jack) they get on extremely well and Donna enjoys telling Harry stories about lily and all their friends. He often pops in for tea or some fire whiskey.
Ok I know this is unlikely, but hey, a girl can dream. :)
Donna Shacklebolt only ever said the word ‘love’ in a derisive tone. She vowed that she did not believe it—that the concepts of love and marriage were invented in some past era to keep women in line. Presently, these ideas were continually propagated to keep the populous at ease: to give them something for which they might strive. But she had no intention of striving for love of the romantic (or any other) nature. She rejected the idea that it even existed. She rejected it intellectually, anyway.
Because her Mum and Dad had been ‘in love,’ and they had died anyway. And Kingsley loved them all, but he still had to work ungodly hours in the auror department. And Severus Snape very clearly loved Lily Evans, but he was always hurting her. And Adam McKinnon very clearly loved Marlene Price, but Marlene did not seem to give a damn, because she was always on about Miles Stimpson (who, in turn, didn’t give a damn either).
Truthfully, Donna Shacklebolt believed in love, but she derided it because she hated the whole idea: the vulnerability and helplessness and the reliance on someone else not to hurt you. Donna believed in love, but she didn’t approve of any variety of it, and she certainly didn’t want it. (Not yet.)
Underappreciated TLAT quotes, Chapter 11: The Trouble With Angels
The unfortunate bartender now looked as though he were going to be sick. “Oh, don’t you worry about it,” Lathe assured him. “I’m sure it was just a one time thing. Maybe spontaneous magic… I doubt they’ve even invented a proper spell that can slice like that…”
And that was when Icarus decided he had better slip into the back room. Donna finished with the patron and noticed the unsupervised Lathe.
“Don’t you eat?” she asked the wizard, returning to the counter. “All you ever do is drink firewhiskey.”
“Correction—all I ever do here is drink firewhiskey.”
“You’re going to get…” But Donna broke off, noticing now that she was alone behind the bar. “Where did that prat go?”
“Yes, of course.”
“He was vile,” said Lathe simply.
“Agreed, but where did he go?”
Lathe shrugged. “Argentina, probably.”
Donna scowled, but at that moment, Pip, at the end of the bar, requested another sherry, and Donna was compelled to fill the order. When she had finished the task, she paced around behind the bar, flipped through the deserted Teen Witch, and then resolved to see if Icarus had gone to the kitchens. She returned a moment later, more bewildered than ever.
“The cooks,” she began to Lathe, “say he sprinted off out the back, and took his cloak with him.”
“Imagine having a cloak on a day like this,” was Lathe’s only remark, and he continued to scan the Quidditch scores in The Prophet. Donna pushed his nearly empty firewhiskey away from the auror and crossed her arms.
“What did you two say to him?”
“Frop, who else?”
“Who says I said anything to him? Maybe he forgot about a previous engagement and had to rush off to meet it.”
“What did you say to him?” Donna repeated.
“Nothing important. We discussed current affairs.”
And, no matter how hard Donna pressed, that was the most she got out of Lathe the rest of the evening.