Minerva McGonagall

[mxnervamxgonagall]

ms-emmelinevance​:

Professor McGonagall had always been her favorite, she had been quite motherly to her back in school and it seemed that she was still doing it now. “It was a long shift and I had to be early here today, I was too tired to go back home” she explained herself, figuring she didn’t particularly care about her explanations, but giving them anyways.

Emmeline summoned the kettle, filled it with her wand and applied a heating spell. She then waved her hand and summoned two cups of tea. Clearly she was a highly accomplished witch, she just didn’t have the need to brag about it. Non-verbal and wandless magic were he current obsession and she was practicing with every little thing she could. “He’s going to make me run double because of that” she sighed tiredly as she fixed the tea for the two of them and then took out a box with her favorite biscuits from one of her drawers, too tired to say she wasn’t hungry at all. “Sugar? Lemon? Milk?” She then asked softly.

-

Minerva would be the first to insist that within the walls of Hogwarts she taught and treated all students fairly; however, there were some who on occasion merited a little extra help, sometimes inside of the classroom, and sometimes outside of it. Emmeline had been the latter and no matter how old her students got she still recalled them as gangly eleven year-olds before anything else; the protective instinct was difficult to let go of, and that was assuming she wanted to let go.

Minerva brow rose at the display, “Someone’s been practicing I take it?” Not that she was surprised, the girl had always had a knack for more advanced spellcraft. “He’ll do nothing of the sort or I’ll have him running triple; even Alastor Moody was a child I taught once.” And grumpy as he was she was more than capable of fending him off the younger Aurors. “Lemon please,” she said, settling into a seat, “With one sugar followed by one explanation as to why you’re using your office like a hotel.”  

[mxnervamxgonagall]

ms-emmelinevance​:

Emmeline was a responsible person and she always have her five hundred percent to every task she was given. She took her job very seriously, so whenever she had one of her episodes and disappeared for a while, she would feel so guilty about it that she would overwork. It was a vicious cycle, she would over work, sleep on the couch for a few hours until it finally caught up with her and go back home and sleep as she should, and get back on track until the next episode happens. Right now, Emmeline was in the middle of said cycle. 

For a brief moment, she though she was still dreaming when she saw her former Professor standing there. “Well, this is my office, Professor” she murured, rubbing her tired eyes. “I am sure I am able to use my own furniture in my own office after hours” she murmured as she quickly folded her blanket. “What brings you here? Can I get your something to drink, some tea perhaps?” she offered with a tired but genuine smile.

-

“Yes, an office, Ms. Vance, not a boudoir.” Minerva believed strongly in a productive work-life balance, even if she may not seem that way inclined at first glance. Right now though she suspected Ms. Vance required a moment or two for reorientation before being quizzed on her work habits, and she wasn’t so stern as to begin right away. Instead, Minerva accepted the offer for a drink requesting a tea, and then turned sharply on her heel to step outside of the office. In full view much of the second floor she spoke in a voice that left no expectation of an argument.    

“Ms. Vance’s afternoon shall be taken up in my company; should you have any business with her, kindly redirect the queries to Alastor Moody.” With a private smile of satisfaction, she returned to the room, closed the door and accepted her tea. “Thank you,” With a wave of her want a rather battered looking tin appeared on Emmeline’s desk, “Have a cup yourself, and a biscuit,” Stern, but well-meaning, chats always came with tea and biscuits.  

[mxnervamxgonagall]

ms-emmelinevance​:

It wasn’t unusual for Emmeline to work more hours than expected, her shifts were long and she had plenty of papers to grade. She had even fixed her office at the Ministry for when she needed to crash for a while. Not that she lived far, but sometimes it was pointless to go home for less than two hours. So here she was, with Morrison sleeping peacefully on his cot and she was wrapped in blanket and sleeping in the couch of her office. Or at least she was until the door bursted open, making her immediately open her eyes. “What?” She murmured annoyed and still wrapped in her blanket.

-

Minerva’s wasn’t an uncommon face around the law department in the ministry; she’d only worked there for a handful of years after leaving Hogwarts but the impression she’d left was still felt by those who’d worked with her; one particular occasion of her dressing down a senior staff member as though he were an errant school boy was always a favourite story. Right now she was on her way back to the school following a brief consultation when an ajar door caught her interest, as did the young lady fast asleep on her settee.

She opened the door fully and stepped inside, “Ms Vance, I do believe those are to be used for your visitors during meetings. One tends to use a bed for nap, and neither should be done in the workplace.” Just what had this girl been doing now?

[mxnervamxgonagall]

hookumwrites​:

@mxnervamxgonagall​

Who: Daisy and Minerva When: Current Game Time Where: Fortescue’s Ice Cream

“Professor, thank you so much for coming! Please sit down,” she waves over her old teacher and pulls a chair out for her to sit down at. She has a copy of her latest manuscript printed and bound. Her hope is that Minerva will give it a quick read and offer some constructive criticism before she submits it to her editor. The first novel had been such a hit, unexpectedly. She was hoping the next book would be just as popular but also hoped her writing had progressed. 

“Can I get you anything?”

-

Minerva knew her teaching responsibilities went far beyond those of her transfiguration classroom; she saw to the wellbeing of her students in a multitude of ways even after they left Hogwarts. Though, this particular form of advice giving was a pleasure more than anything; after all, Minerva’s reading habits went far beyond text books and she felt flattered Ms. Hookum felt her worldly enough to seek out as a second pair of eyes.

“I think a coffee would be fine thank you, Ms. Hookum,” Minerva nodded, draping her coat over the back of a chair and resting her signature hat on the table. “And please, no need for thanks, I’m rather looking forward to this,” she grinned, “Is your new draft a direct sequel or another independent piece?”

[mxnervamxgonagall]

When: Present Day (Game Time) Where: Hogsmeade With: Lyanna @rowle-inglikeastone​

Minerva had never cared for Hogsmeade as much as some of her fellow faculty members; several of them were in the Three Broomsticks every weekend enjoying a few tipples before returning to the castle. She didn’t begrudge them it, and in some cases she’d join in, but the castle was where she preferred to be. On this occasion though, there was a new manuscript on advanced transfiguration she was keen to get ahold of and Tome and Scrolls had ordered one at her behest. 

Stepping inside the cramped store, she pulled her hat off and looked around, the smell of scrolls and books was quite relaxing so she didn’t hurry to the counter but instead looked around, browsed a few sections and even selected a work on pedagogy techniques; it never hurt to try new things in the classroom. 

A soft thud behind her caused Minerva to turn and see a few more books fall to join their fallen companion on the floor. She bent and retrieved the nearest one as the woman who’d dropped them did the same, “Here, I believe this is also yours,” as she went hand it back, the title caught her eye, Transfigurating the Dead: New Methods in Necromancy, and then the woman did as well: Lyanna Rowle, a former student. A former student who, it seemed, was not in the best of shape. “Ms. Rowle, how are you?” she asked, her tone casual as the question probed.   

[mxnervamxgonagall]

madeyeinmotion​:

“It didn’t take much to impress the girls back then, ask ‘em to dance and they wouldn’t care that your ankles stuck out from your trousers or your dress robes were homemade. Suppose they also thought I’d amount to someone famous. Fat crock of shit that was,” his eyes roll. How many people had insisted he would accomplish great things without ever pausing to ask him if that was what he wanted? Alastor had no interest in fame or fortune. He had only ever wanted to do the right thing. What good was all the talent in the world if it didn’t make a difference? 

He rolls his eyes at her next statement. It seemed to him everyone had an opinion on their relationship this evening. At least Minerva had the good sense to keep from badgering him about marriage. “I just found someone as grumpy as me. Can’t let that go when you find it,” he shrugs, which is close enough to the truth. “You know I’m not much for parties. I’m only here for her now. Think it’s idiotic for the most important people in the ministry to all be gathered under one roof. Though I could stand about half of them having the ceiling cave in on them. What a tragedy. . . we couldn’t be that lucky could we Minnie?” 

-

“Something I consistently called them to count for.” Minerva said wryly. She would not have girls leaving her school needing little more than a roguish wink and a trim figure to have them lulled into any further activities than a spin on the floor and a kiss upon the cheek. She raised a perfectly sculpted brow, “Really? You see nothing in being the leader of those who enforce our laws? A hero and veteran of one of the harshest civil wars our kind have fought? It may not be the fame air-headed schoolgirls may have considered Alastor, but it’s certainly something.”

They danced around the room in silence for a few beats, Minerva’s eyes downcast for a few moments, and not to watch the man’s foot and peg-leg either, “There are always reasons to let a relationship go.” she eventually said in a quiet voice, meant only for the two of them, “What’s important is you don’t believe there are any in this case.” her gaze lifted once again and she made a small yet, almost sad, smile, “I truly do wish you both a lifetime of happiness,” Happiness that, it seemed, wasn’t to fall upon her in the future, nor in the past. The war had taken more from her than anyone, save Albus truly knew, “Luck is a fools crutch,” she said, “Should the time come we’ll cave the roof in ourselves.”    

[mxnervamxgonagall]

heirofdisappointment​:

He always felt at his best when busy. It certainly wasn’t best way of managing things since it usually prolonged dealing with whatever was bothering him, but it was that or being left to his own devices at his flat.  The latter option usually ended up being disastrous so the extra shifts were the next best option.

“At least I’m not drinking at home,” He grumbled. Not that being at work had stopped him from stealing a few drinks for himself, but someplace public was better than trying to bottle everything up at his flat. “I’m aware, Professor,” He could have tried calling her Minerva but using her name didn’t feel right even though she was no longer teaching him. An old habit, but anything besides that (or the occasional ‘mum’ that slipped out while under her watch) seemed wrong. Sirius opened then promptly shut his mouth, opting to nod since he knew better than to argue. 

Sirius excused himself for a moment to let the other bartender know he was going to take his break, returning with another drink for Minerva and a particularly sheepish expression. “Might as well get it over with,” He sighed. It didn’t guarantee he would open up immediately, but he was ready to at least listen.

-

“No, because then I’d have been required to visit you there and there’s no guarantee you’d have anything decent to drink in your humble abode.” She already knew where he lived, it only took a request from Mr. Potter to get the information and, alongside several other addresses, they were stored away in her little black book for later use.

“Then don’t seem so unbalanced to find me here.” she said, raising the glass and taking a more sedate sip this time around. She rather enjoyed excursions beyond the castle grounds; while Hogwarts was a hubbub of never ending activity it was continually centred around students who, while very important to her, were rarely dealing with matter which required an elevated level of elocution and deduction. In situations like these she got to engage adults in more difficult periods of their lives, and few would be more challenging than Mr. Pettigrew’s return.

“Well you needn’t treat the encounter as though it were so terrible fate, Mr. Black,” she said wryly, “But since you’re so determined tell me, how are you coping with Mr. Pettigrew’s most inauspicious reintroduction to wixan society?” She was never one to mince words before so why begin doing so now?

[mxnervamxgonagall]

mr-potter​:

He cleared his throat before answering, mostly to buy himself time. He didn’t know what to say, has been still struggling with sorting his thoughts into anything resembling order since Peter reappeared in his life. For so many years he had excused Peter’s case that it was almost ingrained into his personality even though now he knew better. To hear McGonagall somewhat dismiss the bond they had had during school years was a hard pill to swallow. After all it was all that time they had spent together as teenagers that made the betrayal so fucking unbelievable. It was even, to some extent, annoying to hear someone belittle Peter’s past behaviour as though it should have been obvious from the start that he was going to end up being a disappointment. It wasn’t. That was the point.   

‘I appreciate your concern, Professor.’ He finally managed to say and he even smiled a little, because the practical part of his brain knew where she was coming from. ‘But knowing things and… I don’t know… Experiencing them is not exactly the same.’

Was he going to give Peter another chance? No. With surprising clarity, James knew that he would never be able to look at Peter in the same way. Even if the Ministry were to absolve him from all the charges, even if he played the Imperius card and was cleared of all the allegations, James would never be able to see him in the same light. To look his former friend in the eye and not remember the fear he had felt whenever someone had breached the wards on the cottage back when they had been hiding, how so often both he and Lily had cried themselves to sleep because they never knew if they were going to be able to wake up in the morning and see their baby again. Back then they had trusted Peter to keep them safe, now that memory was tainted with the knowledge that it was a mistake that could have cost them their lives and that of their tiny boy. 

‘But I don’t think there’s any risk of us ever being on speaking terms, let alone me being taken in by him. War made all of us do things that we wouldn’t have done otherwise, but there’s no coming back from that.’ He finished weakly and slimed at his baby, who was still sitting next to McGonagall and munching on a biscuit, while obviously trying to imitate the picture she painted with her pose. Harry’s chubby limbs and short legs made it all the more adorable. ‘Would you look at that?’ He started, attempting to change the subject. ‘Just six more years and you’re gonna have him with you for a majority of the year and I’m afraid he’s going to replace his old folks with you. We’ll lose him forever.’

-

“Exactly my point,” Minerva said, firmly but not unkindly. She could only imagine how difficult this was for James but she also knew his kind and just nature (that of a true Gryffindor) could at times make one blind to certain faults. It had happened to her in the past and led to her nearly giving up magic entirely, something she’d sworn as a child in Hogwarts never to do. “I do not wish you to tarnish all your memories of your time together. Merlin knows you and your friends drove me to distraction on more than one occasion but you were all happy in one another’s company.” And it had warmed her heart to see young Mr. Lupin finding such close friends to share his childhood with; it was the happiness all children deserved.

“But viewing the future through the rosiness of the past can be very dangerous.” Even Albus had fallen prey to it; though those secrets were ones she’d take to her grave, just as her dear friend kept hers.    

She was satisfied with his answer, and it made her feel better about Pettigrew’s unwanted return. The boy had made his own choices, his own bed and now the time was here to lie in it. With any luck he’d remain there and prevent himself from being a bothersome burden to the betterment of society. James moved the subject along and, on this occasion, Minerva allowed it. Her sharp gaze flitted to the child, his stubby limbs attempting to mimic her crossed legs, one arm cupping an elbow. With a quiet chuckle, she took another sip of her tea and placed the cup down on the coffee table. In these bright new stars of the next generation she saw hope that peace would remain for their society. They had all endured great hardships, lost friends, lovers, family, but they were beginning to heal, and while all would certainly never be perfect, they could leave those dark times behind.

“Six years is a long time yet, Mr. Potter.” she said, taking another biscuit, dunking it in her tea and, once it was soft, passed it to a happy Harry (yes she’d said one but that rule was more for James than his son). With a slight tile of her head she continued, “I don’t recall you losing any love for your parents when you came to the castle. Affection is not a finite resource, the heart will always make more as its needed.” As more students passed through her classroom she found herself caring about each one and that care, that protective instinct didn’t lessen as they grew older and left; they were all her students, and that would never change.      

[mxnervamxgonagall]

madeyeinmotion​:

“If you try to lead I’ll step on your feet and I won’t apologize,” he admonishes, beginning the waltz with a surprising grace. Dancing had been another one of those things Alastor was frustratingly good at from the outset. Though in his more formative years he used it to impress the girls in his classes, he was happy now just to hold Clara close or keep Minerva occupied. There was an unanticipated grace his hulking frame still managed, despite it’s size and lingering injuries. He was grateful he had thought to swig a restorative tincture before hand though, lest his cursed leg decide to give out.            

He snorts at her question. No one asked him that question when he’d gotten back with Rita early in the war. Now that he was old and haggard and found someone nearly as grumpy as himself, they all seemed to be interested.  “Well,” he cocks his head pausing a second to twirl her, “haven’t you heard? I’m building a werewolf army. She’s going to be the werewolf queen. My Buodica, as I use them to sniff out old death eaters and usurp the minister’s position. So if you have any interest in joining this endeavor, please RSVP to the next recruitment meeting. We’d be happy to have you.”

-

“You won’t have a chance to before I’ve knocked you on your cumbrous posterior.” she responded quickly, but Minerva let the man lead once they moved into the dance, “Hmm, still got it, you were one of the better dancers in the school.” And it had fallen upon her to teach several the students when more formal occasions were being held; in Alastor’s time she’d had the Gryffindor’s and Ravenclaw’s. It was always a rather enjoyable set of lessons for her but she suspected there wouldn’t be a need for it in future, discos and nightclubs had replaced dancing halls it seemed.

Minerva moved into the twirl and dipped slightly, returning to grip his broad shoulder as they continued, “Come now we both know that won’t be the case, you’re far too content being told what to do by a women to be a king.” she told him lightly, “Though it’s telling you see her as a queen.” she paused a few moments as they moved and spoke again, her voice a little softer, “She suits you, and you suit her. I’m so pleased you found one another.” Romance had never been lucky for her, but she didn’t begrudge Alastor this happiness, the man deserved it. “Regardless, I’ll still attend you next get-together, I’ll bring biscuits.  

[mxnervamxgonagall]

frcnkly​:

˚ ✰ 。 ㅤㅤopen starter at the leaky cauldron.

As someone who struggled a lot with nightmares, sleepless nights were a familiar concept to Longbottom. And having no wish to disturb his wife with that, he usually pretends he’s not as sleepy as he actually is whenever the subject appears. Frank never knows if he’s doing a great job keeping up with the lie, but likes to believe his plan is working just fine. Most of the days are easy to deal with his sleep. Others, like that morning, were pretty hard and he could barely keep his eyes open, it seemed like there was not spell or potion that could keep him wake. But he had to keep trying, as the day was just beginning. So, when he heard that voice so close to him asking if he was fine, he lied once again: ━━ Oh, I’m okay. I just need to… Rest my eyes for five minutes and I’ll be brand new.

-

Minerva didn’t frequent the Cauldron very often, she much preferred the Three Broomsticks but she’d spent the morning restocking several supplies in Diagon (it was always best to arrive first thing for the best selections) and felt like a fresh orange juice and perhaps even some scrambled eggs. Given she wasn’t needed at the castle until this evening, there was no rush.

She walked up towards the bar but came to a stop as she spotted the half-asleep Mr. Longbottom struggling to keep his eyes open. Her gaze narrowed in concern as he brushed off her first query, so Minerva’s tone sharpened to exactly how she spoke in the classroom, “Mr. Longbottom, do you really think this is the state any Auror should be prepared to conduct their work in or any civilian should be presenting themselves in public in?”

[mxnervamxgonagall]

madeyeinmotion​:

“I would agree Minerva,” he answers with the same gruffness he reserves for everyone who doubts him, “except this hat is a menace to society. A safety hazard. I’ve only got one eye left, I’d like to keep so I can do paperwork and occasionally look at my girlfriend’s tits.” His head tilts meaningfully, though he doubts she’ll care for the safety of his eye or the comfort of his nostrils.   

It had been almost 20 years since he graduated, when he was among the first students she had taught and he was still wide eyed and in love with the potential of the world. Many things had changed since then. Some had not. But he was glad to call her a friend. Even if she did enjoy pressing his buttons, he was no stranger to pushing back. “Well it’s certainly tempting to watch you crush his hopes yet another year, man could use some humbling,” his eyebrows raise and lower punctuating his statement but he offers her a calloused hand anyway. 

-

“Such an exaggerator Alastor,” Minerva chuckled, “Some things never change. And I should think if you want the relationship to continue you’ll do a great deal more than simple gaze upon Ms. Ivanova’s assets.” she continued easily, bringing her cigarette to her lips and taking a deep drag, turning her head (and purposefully tapping the taller man with her hat) to exhale.

While Alastor Moody may have been an intimidating force around the Ministry, she still recalled the gangly boy gesticulating with his wand in her transfiguration classroom; it both saddened her and filled her with pride to see how much he’d gone through since then but still stood tall. However, none of that would be cause for her to hold her tongue. “He needs the latest comet broomstick removed from his posterior and a dressing down befitting a little boy.” she commented, taking his hand, her skin smooth though beginning to show signs of her well-lived life. With the grace of experience she settled into position and nudged him into a waltz, tilting her head back just enough to keep her hat-brim from nudging against his magical eye.

“Now,” she continued as they twirled, “What are your intentions with the lovely Mr. Ivanova?”  

[mxnervamxgonagall]

mr-potter​:

From where he stood in the kitchen, gathering the ingredients and making sure he wouldn’t disappoint his favourite teacher with a mediocre cuppa, he could hear snippets of the conversation taking place in the sitting room. He could still remember the first time McGonagall interacted with his baby boy and her continued gentleness still made him smile. Merlin only knew that James had never heard her speak in such a tone before and it made things even more special. But he knew that Harry could be a handful, which was clearly Lily’s fault, thank you very much, so he hurried back to join them the tea set soundlessly floating through the air. 

‘Biscuits, Professor? Some habits die hard, I guess.’ He teased as soon as Harry dived into the jar with his chubby hand, but before he could admonish his son for showing such lack of manners, the boy turned to him and handed the first ginger snap to his father. He cooed and ruffled his hair, before reminding him to say “thank you”. In response Harry climbed onto the sofa practically plastering himself to McGonagall. Yes, he was clearly James’s son.    

‘Well… I guess the news travel fast.’ He answered sitting down in an old armchair in front of his guest and picked at the sugary treat with his fingers. His previously good mood escaping him like air from a balloon. ‘Even the Prophet wrote about it. Big news! An alleged supporter of You-Know-Who walking into the Ministry of his own free will.’ He quoted, his voice lacking humour. ‘I saw him, you know, Professor. As soon as I heard the gossip I couldn’t sit still and I simply barged into the Aurors’ Office and he was simply… sitting there. Dishevelled. Small. As though he’d rather melt into the chair he was resting on than… I don’t know what I was expecting.’ Just not that. 

-

“It is most ungrateful and ill-mannered to call upon another person uninvited without at least providing some sustenance to soften the blow.” she informed James primly, watching with an eagle eye as Harry retrieved a biscuit and offered it to his father. The child glanced back at her briefly and she offered him a quick wink before turning her attention back to James, “Particularly when it’s parading itself over the Daily Prophet like a Cornish Pixie around a class of inexperienced second years.” she said, lifting the tea to her lips and taking a small sip. She added a small amount of sugar, stirred and sipped again, satisfied with the beverage, “Thank you Mr. Potter.”  

“Well I think you and I both know the only alleged aspect of that particular conclusion is the ministry’s incompetent inability to incarcerate ignoble informer.” The swift alteration dancing from her tongue as it always had when she was displeased. Though her frown only deepened when James shared his encounter with Pettigrew, providing more detail than that paper managed to obtain.

“Pettigrew, and I know he was your friend, he may have even been a true one during your time at school, but that boy has been small; unable to stand by himself and as we now know more than willing to value his life above his friends and possible thousands of innocent witches and wizards. I urge you not to be taken in by him, in any capacity.” His actions were shameful, to the point where she wondered (as she often did) if she could have done something when he’d been younger, pushed him harder to stick by his morals, to speak his mind even if he parted with his friends. She sighed and took another sip of her tea, “People will always find new ways to hurt and disappoint you, James.” she said, making rare use of his first name, “I truly am sorry things have come to this.”    

[mxnervamxgonagall]

heirofdisappointment​:

He hadn’t believed it at hearing McGonagall had made an appearance. Come to think of it, he hardly ever believed anyone he respected that wasn’t a close friend of his would appear. Simply put, the bar was an excuse to keep busy but he wouldn’t have considered it respectable enough for adults that were better at behaving like an adult than he was.

He studied Minerva for a moment, particularly thrown off at the choice in beverage and just how quickly it was downed. The impressed look lingered a while longer before he cleared his throat. “A particularly lucky guess, Professor,” He chuckled. It wasn’t all that hard to find him though — not with his history of needing to keep busy and being prone to having outbursts if he couldn’t.

The month had turned into his picking up every shift he could get his hands on. Another thing that wasn’t unusual of him past having eased back on offering to take extra shifts for a little while. “Admittedly surprise to see you here of all places,” He added with a shake of his head then looked toward her empty glass. “Only doing my job in asking if you are going to want another one of those.”

-

Watching students grow into themselves provided an irreplaceable insight into discovering their coping mechanisms for times of stress; Minerva recalled that Mr. Black never seemed to work harder in her class (or any class for that matter) then when under moments of external stress. With no classes to occupy him, work was the next thing.

“I was raised in Scotland, Mr. Black,” she said, placing the glass down, “If I couldn’t handle my drink I’d be falling over on my way home from every funeral or birthday.” While cliche dictated with Irish were the masters of the drink, Scots weren’t far behind. “And there was little guess-work involved, in the face of tension you seek distraction, a very natural response though not a particularly helpful one.” she said, as always straight to the point.

“I do happen to exist outside of the walls of Hogwarts, Mr. Black,” she said, raising an eyebrow, “And since I believe getting through this conversation will take some time and considering cajoling on my part, you may as well pour me another and take your break for the shift,” Minerva told him, her tone leaving no room for argument not backchat; as with James, this conversation would happen.  

[mxnervamxgonagall]

marlsmcks​:

“You still think my shadow is cumbrous?” Marlene grinned. “It was impetuous, then superfluous, but we’re settling on cumbrous. It’s lovely really.” She cut herself off before adding a darling like her usual speech patterns would require. But by good Merlin she could not say that to Professor McGonnagall, she was still convinced the woman’s eye would disintegrate her on the spot if needed. She would have challenged it so much more back in the day, but now a little banter was really all she’d handled. Especially since she wasn’t really the one vying for who could get the most detentions in a year anymore. 

“Locked myself out of my apartment again, that’s all. Have to say I’m really still quite good with blending my charms and transfigurations. Any time I tried charmed the lock back, just turns into a bird. It was brillant went I thought of it, but my key…” She shrugged, there was really no rhyme or reason to share where it currently was, or what had happened to it. 

-

“I believe it’s placement over my area of reading is making it cumbrous at this particular time, Ms. McKinnon,” Minerva replied without a pause; she’d dealt enough with this troublemaker over the years and while she held a spot of fondness for the girl (as she often did well-intentioned troublemakers) she knew well enough not to give her an inch without due course. Her gaze flicked up as the young witch explained her plight and an eye brow rose slightly. Without adjusting her look she took another drag from her cigarette, exhaled the smoke and tapped the ashes into an ashtay.

“I see. And how many times did I warn you that a mixture of magic schools need be undertaken with the utmost care and consideration?” she asked, rising to her feet, “If the lock currently in it’s inanimate form or will you be chasing every sparrow and blue tit around with a butterfly net for the rest of the afternoon?”    

[mxnervamxgonagall]

lestrange-one​:

Bellatrix had always faced somewhat of a struggle with authority, a bad trait only expletified during her time at Hogwarts. Her childhood lessons had made her arrogant and the whispered mantras in the Black family home had gave her a sense of entitlement, a horrid mixture that had caused her to view herself as superior to almost all of her so called peers and most of her teachers. So few of her professors had ever truly earned her respect, even while flattered by the Slug Club she hadn’t been particularly fond of her Head of House, but it was as though her transfiguration teacher was capable of inspiring a new form of distain - usually reserved for Albus Dumbledore alone - within the then child. Her opinion of the older woman had not improved if her eye roll at McGonagall’s approach was any type of clue. 

“Professor,” She drawled out the title as though it were an insult, eyes narrowed as though she were a petulant sixteen year old all over again, “Oh if I remember your lessons correctly…well this gala is just as fun as your classroom.” Having been praised for her quickness and cleverness before her formal education, Bellatrix had spend her early years refusing to cooperate, being labelled difficult and disruptive by most of those who had the misfortune of teaching her. So yes, she did find the dull ministry gala she was forced to attend on the same level as the transfiguration lessons she had been made to endure in her youth.

-

Minerva heard the voice, knew perfectly well who she was dealing with and perfectly well how to deal with her. Like most unruly children Bellartrix Black (or Lestrange now) thrived on attention and power; In conversation with her the child had neither. She Minerva made no rush to respond, she brought her long cigarette to her lips, took a slow drag and exhaled then enjoyed a sip of her firewhiskey. It was only after she’d placed the glass down that Minerva acknowledged the younger woman’s presence.

“And here you are, seeking the more unruly approach, just like in my classroom.” she smiled, it wasn’t a friendly look, but was also devoid of malice, again other witch really wasn’t worth it. “In both ventures it seems you could do better, Mrs. Black” Though thankfully the woman wasn’t her responsibility nor worry at this point. Let Bellatrix life her wealthy life and fade from her memory like an unpleasant dream.

[mxnervamxgonagall]

madeyeinmotion​:

If Moody had to guess, at least a third of the attendees wanted him dead. The other two thirds were still scratching their heads at having seen him, and well groomed to boot. Something that only happened once in a blue moon. But there was one friendly and familiar face he didn’t mind seeing. Minerva was doing her best to imitate a tall person and her hat certainly made a valiant effort. Unfortunately all it managed to do was tickle his nose as he moves to greet her. He chokes on a sneeze he tries to hold back, “Bloody Hell, Minerva… can’t you just transfiguration a few inches and call it a day?”  

The night was young, and several of the younglings were already inebriated if their behaviour was anything to judge by. She’d only had to deal with students in such a state a handful of times in her career thank goodness, so made sure to give them a wide berth, and ended up nudging Alastor’s forehead with her hat. “Mr. Moody, a woman should dress first and foremost for her own pleasure,” she said, taking a drag on her cigar from its long holder and turning her head to exhale. “Should that manner of dress inconvenience a man, well that really is a side issue.” 

The brim tilted up slightly as she looked at him properly, “Now, are you going to be a gentleman and invite me to dance or shall I rebuff Mr. Crouch for a third time this evening?” 

[mxnervamxgonagall]

When: Ministry Gala Where: Main Atrium With: Open to all! :D

Minerva didn’t often have cause to dress formally, her usually teaching robes of brilliant emerald green worked for most occasions, however this time around (with some gentle coaxing from Albus) she’d been convinced to garb herself in some more original attire. Her white, 1920′s style dress was likely considered old fashioned by some but she’d always loved the glamour of the period. She’d even bought a larger white hat for the occasion, the brow dipping just low enough to hide some of her face as it tilted, though her red hair (styled in bouncy ringlets) stood out vibrantly against it. 

She’d been drawn into conversation with some old acquaintance from the law department but excused herself to light a cigarette in her (appropriately chosen) long holder. Taking a small drag she breathed out the smoke and surveyed the room, “You feel you age catch up with you when the majority here were once students in your classroom.”