The Hogwarts Race to Finals
Professor McGonagall had just about had it with the students. She always had a few words for anyone who thought teaching was easy. Even hearing complaints about muggle teachers made her twitch. Sure, muggle teachers probably had the same amount of students who felt jaded, jealous, or who could simply be insufferable at time; but, at least their students didn't also have the capability to have magic and curses and jinxes thrown at each other when those feelings got out of hand! Students always complained about finals, in the muggle world and the wizarding world alike. But, as a teacher, it wasn't exactly smooth sailing for her either. To put it rather frankly: finals season was a bitch.
Firstly, the past two years there had been some crisis caused by no other than Lord Voldemort at finals. Leave it to him to screw with wizard education! She couldn't say she complained last year when Albus cancelled them. But, it's not like there hadn't still been shenanigans. She really shouldn't be surprised that it was worse now that finals were back on this year. But, it was worse, as the shenanigans last year foreshadowed thanks to Albus's generous awarding of points Harry's first year. Don't get her wrong, McGonagall was, of course, thrilled that Gryffindor had won the house cup not only that year, but the year following. She certainly hoped they could again this year. However, everyone knew that Gryffindor had only won because Albus had granted Harry and his friends more points than winning a Quidditch game at the final feast. And that had led to all the students thinking they might be able to score the same if they were on their best behavior; or better yet, proven themselves the bravest, smartest, kindest or cleverest of all. So, there was all that all on top of the usual calamities that came with panic attacks or poor magical study/brain invigorating booster attempts that befell finals week. And as Vice Headmistress, she heard about all of it. So, perhaps she and the students could agree on one thing. Finals and the week or two leading up to them were her personal bleeding hell.
So, she let out a subtle, but rather annoyed huff when she walked into her classroom five minutes early to see almost all the class already gathered, waiting patiently and quietly with their heads forward and books out. They all knew that at any other point in the semester the classroom would still be mostly empty and they would all come darting in, gabbing, with their different groups of friends and continue to do so several words into her lecture; some of them would have forgotten their books; a small handful of them would even be unashamedly late. It was even more unusual as it was the day after a test. No one was boasting about their grades. Not even one student had dared tried to bribe or beg her for a higher grade last night. Oh no, not during finals week where heaven forbid they do any of that in case they be docked crucial house points.
Really, she shouldn't be surprised, but all the same. This was getting ridiculous. So, she almost started laughing when Fred and George Weasley came running in with giddish, but also mostly unabashed looks on their faces just as the bell rang. They, at least, could always be counted. They could. For pranks and hijinks, but they never bothered to change their behavior for finals. And in that moment, they were actually commendable to her. So why the hell not.
"Weasleys!" She nearly shouted. Well, she was still allowed some fun. She would be lying if she didn't find their half fearful faces amusing. "Ten points to Gryffindor! 5 for each of you."
It was really comical how the entire class, the twins included, went bug eyed with surprise.
She addressed the class. "You see, the Weasley brothers here have so kindly remained their usual selves today. While I cannot complain that you all are on time, orderly and ready for class to begin, I think we'd all be lying if we claimed to not know the reason why at this point in the semester."
The nervous, bashful turns of heads confirmed that.
"So, let me make one thing very clear. I cannot speak for the other professors. But, where I am concered house points until the end of the semester will be as follows. Any rule breaking, as usual, will cost you house points." She looked pointedly at the Weasleys who had been self congratulating each other and a few of the other students that typically were a nuisance. She continued, "Any efforts, as usual, that I find worthy, will win house points. However, if I find any of you acting in such a manner that is clearly and likely so far outside your usual self only in an attempt to win house points, you will instead lose them! Do I make myself clear?"
She supposed she was satisfied with the silent, somewhat frightened nods that was typical of her students instead of the usual, unanimous and robotic "Yes, Professional McGonagall" she got from her students at this time of year.
As it was, some of her students may have gotten the message, but schoolchildren will be schoolchildren. She had just come back from the hospital ward where Hannah Abbot was being treated for a horrendous headache thanks to a badly brewed homemade attempt at wit sharpening potion. Technically, it wasn't cheating since the girl hadn't actually taken a test yet and the effects will have worn out by finals day. And in addition to further annoying her, McGonagall thought Ms. Abbot had learned her lesson with enough dues as the girl was doubled over in pain, trying not to rip her hair out. Furthermore, McGongall also had to admit that she hoped not docking house points would be another indicator that she would not be playing as expected these last few weeks.
"MR. FINNIGAN!" She screamed, rather uncontrollably as she rounded the corner. The spectating students scattered as if she were a swarm of Death Eaters. She may have chuckled if she hadn't been as furious and flabbergasted as she was.
"Hey, come on now!" Seamus called as he watched the students run off. "Chickens!" But, he only had to look at her to become beet red with the oh so familiar scared look on his face. Which, she was pretty sure had nothing to do with the fact that he was clinging to the top of a 30 foot statue of Salazar Slytherin. In the Founder's Garden, the replica of the Slytherin founder was now gagged with a Gryffindor flag with a note "More like SLEEZY Slytherin. Slytherins are whiny posh twats!"
"Mr. Finnigan, 50 points from Gryffindor!" Another time, it might have been 20, might have even been somewhat amusing. But, the affront of school property on top of the language on top of timing with an obvious, stupid attempt at so called daring Gryffindor pride increased her penalty.
She almost didn't register the indignant "Fifty?!"
"Mr. Finnigan, come down from there at once and take your decorations with you, carefully!" Madam Pomfrey was about to have a stroke with the influx of patients. She didn't need another one.
McGonagall shook her head as she walked away. She really would have to speak with Albus about doing something about the student's behaviors at finals. And maybe encourage him to make a statement that he would not grant more than half a Quidditch match's points at the final banquet.