AU where half the professors are either killed off in the Battle of Hogwarts or retire so McGonagall is a little desperate to get teachers for the next year and she ends up re-hiring Remus bc he did a good job with defence and she also hires Sirius bc he was the best transfiguration student she's seen in several decades that's still alive. Plus he's an animagus and she's always had a soft spot for her kind.
Except she doesn't actually realize the madness she's inflicted on herself until first day of staff meetings when Sirius smirks and sits across from Severus, who scowls deeply. Remus sits next to Sirius and innocents reviews his lessons plans, but his mouth twitches like he's struggling not to smile.
And then Harry Potter changes his mind and signs up for his 8th year, and is almost as inseparable from Sirius as James had been. Everywhere she looks its Lupin following Harry following Sirius with Severus sneaking around keeping an eye on them absolutely certain they're up to something (he's right; they're planning one last maurader prank in remembrance of James).
summary: if there’s one thing you know, it’s to always trust Professor McGonagall’s advice.
c/w: nerd-ish reader who gets in detention, friends to lovers, confession of love. Mentions of insecurities, but nothing too intense.
a/n: rest in piece to the darling dame maggie smith. I hope I did her and her wonderful character justice, I just wanted to appreciate her in the best way I knew how <3
You’ve always been a good student. You study hard, get good grades and never get in trouble, sometimes even getting made fun of by nasty students for being a nerd. Sirius never made fun of you though, he was always so sweet when you cancelled on him to study for a particularly hard test or ignore him because your too engrossed in writing your essay.
But why does that even matter now? Your strides through the stone hallway break your thoughts, internally cursing yourself for even slightly letting your mind drift from the problem at hand. You got a detention!
Well, not exactly a detention, but it’s as close as you’ll ever get. Your grades have been dropping below your usual impossibly high standards, and now the headmistress has asked to meet with you to discuss your current predicament. Unlike your Black family counterpart, you pride yourself on academic appearances, especially when it comes to higher up authorities like Professor McGonagall.
You knock on the hard wood door three times, the wood rumbling as it opens almost immediately. Before you sits this aforementioned professor, enveloped by a thick leather armchair and adorned in expensive jewellery. Truthfully, you aspire to be like her someday. Commanding and treacherous, yet simultaneously kind and beautiful. Her emerald broach shimmers in the sunlight pouring into her tiny study, and her slick back bun has a few curled whisps falling out. You wonder how she always gets her hair to sit so nice, and how long that must take every morning.
“Good afternoon Miss McGonagall.” You nervously state, quickly walking in and sitting primly in an armchair. She simply nods, going back to whatever letter she is writing with a soft smile. “I presume you know why I called you in today?” “Of course. And I’m very sorry I’ve fallen behind on my schoolwork professor. I promise I will get that transfiguration parchment to you once my defence against the dark arts test is done, and I’ve been studying tirelessly to get my scores to a more appropriate level, I promise.”
Despite the worry evident on your voice, she merely chuckles, acting as if you made a joke. You didn’t make a joke though, so you furrow your brow in concern. Did you say something wrong?
“No my dear. I was just calling you in to ask about your handwriting.” “My-? Oh yes, apologies for the messiness on my last assignment. I was in a bit of a rush, so I think some of my m’s turned into n’s.” Once again she laughs, this time straight from her belly, her head thrown back. You can’t help but feel your face burn up in embarrassment. “Messiness? Why I never! No darling, I meant to ask how it’s so neat! You see, I’ve been attempting to do those same loops you do on capitals, but I’m afraid I can’t replicate it!”
She slides over to you the parchment she was writing on, revealing random sentences repeated in order to practice replicating your font. Truthfully they are quite shaky, but you wouldn’t admit it to her face anytime soon. “Do you mind writing a few sentences for me? Maybe even casting piertotum locomotor on them so I can’t watch it back would be helpful!” You bashfully fulfill your task, writing some simple words on the page in swirling calligraphy. As you do this, your professor casually talks to you.
“I must say though, you were never much of the type to rush projects. What had you in such a hurry?”
“Nothing really, just a trip to Hogsmeade with Sirius Black.”
“Sounds lovely.”
“Oh yes, it really was. Sirius wanted to go into town because he ordered a record from the post office that was due to arrive. It was some muggle band, I think it was called The Beatles? He said they are quite popular, and I see why. The singer is dreamy! He played it for me when we got back to school, and he gave me some of his Berty’s Botts Beans. He knows I love them you see, and he always tries to inspect them before he hands them to me so I don’t get the bad ones. Sometimes he gets it wrong, and I have to suffer anyways. But I…” You eventually realise just how much you have been rambling, as the page is suddenly filled with words you didn’t remember writing and you need to take a deep breath to rid of your light headedness. “Yes, I thought it was nice.” You finish up, not wanting to bore her with your story of a typical day out. But she honestly seems quite intrigued, looking at you with a peculiar arched eyebrow.
“You and that Black boy make a strange pair. A good one at that though.” You chuckle along with her, reminiscing on your differences that complement each other perfectly. “Many do say that. He’s a good friend to me.”
“Friend?” She mirrors, an almost offended tone on her voice. She takes the page away from you and blows on it as to help to ink dry, before placing it in a draw of her desk. “I don’t know why, but I always thought you two were together. Never mind me, I’m a silly old lass now.” Usually you are completely and utterly respectful no matter what is thrown at you, but something in her statement sets off a spark in which you immediately regret. “No! no no no no no. Sirius and I would never! I mean, have you seen how he- no, it would never work.”
Professor McGonagall looks at you in a way that can only be described as utter disbelief, and a tiny hint of disappointment before she speaks. “If you say so. But I have to say, I was just like you back in my day. So naïve…” She sighs, looking blissfully off. “You know…” She twists to face you, a smirk causing her features to almost become young once more. “When I was your age, maybe a little younger I liked a guy. Now don’t tell anyone I told you this but… He was a real dashing man. So proper and smart, but he really knew how to dance when the jukebox started!”
Suddenly you feel like Minerva McGonagall’s best friend, gossiping about your childhoods now those days are long gone. Never would you have expected to see this side of her, but you cannot complain when you see that energetic sparkle in her eye.
“And I believe he like me back. When I was tired he would carry me up to my common room, and and would tuck me in real nice and tight. But I never went any further. I was too nervous. So he started dating my friend, and five years later they got married! I hate to admit it but sometimes I wonder how things would’ve turned out. You don’t have to listen to an out of touch woman like me, but you know I have your best interest at heart.”
It takes you a good minute to properly process her words, repeating them in your head and wondering how she could be so right. No one, not even any of your closest friends have ever realised your concealed feelings, the only being hearing them is your little diary under the moonlight, which knows they will never come true. But here is your teacher, completely demolishing your tiny sense of secrecy and legitimising every worry you’ve ever had. When he kisses some random girl at a party you worry it will last between them, when you can’t find him in his usual spots you worry he’s abandoned you and when you look in the mirror you see merely a friend, someone who will never amount to him. But maybe you could. Maybe there is some universe where he feels the same, and you are lucky enough to be in that universe right now. After all, there always is a chance.
“Go and get him.” She orders, staring into your soul with her blue eyes. You nod, tears fighting to leave your eyes as the weight of emotion takes over you. You stand up, thanking her breathlessly before running out.
Professor McGonagall knows that she did the right thing, judging by the conversation she had with Sirius about the same subject just the other day.
Remus is incredibly tall but has the most fucked up posture
Sirius Black had the best eyeliner game ever
Marlene McKinnon was a raging lesbian and would take offense to being called straight
If your last name is or was at some point ‘Black’ you are automatically a dramatic little shit
Mary and Regulus would share curly hair-care tips.
James’ soul is red (crimson)
Sirius’ is purple
Euphemia Potter is an amazing mother in every universe
Regulus had summer freckles
BARTY WAS SMART!!!
And I’m not sure why, but Evan LOVES oranges (the fruit)
James has a degrading kink
Pandora would sometimes lie and tell people she had fake visions to get them to fuck off or psych them out and only the skittles knew her tell for when she’s lying.
