Minerva McGonagall was a serious woman. The student population of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizadry, at large, feared her greatly. A mere twitch of her eyebrow had been known to reduce her pupils to tearful confessions. A few words from her sharp tongue could scar a child under her care for life, and when she asked for it, she expected absolute submission from her students.

With all this in mind, Sirius Black intrigued her. He was only twelve years old, and yet he would rally against those in authority with gusto. It was a battle of wills between the professor and her student, and although she would almost unfailingly win, the nerve Sirius possessed surprised her.

She observed him over the edge of her glasses as he propped his feet on the table, a book balanced against his knees. The purpose of her trip to the library was to select a book she thought suitable for one of her seventh year's essays, but she now found herself observing the young Gryffindor with unreserved fascination. When her eyes fell to the book in his lap, her infamous eyebrow lifted to her hairline.

"Mr Black," she called authoritively, striding towards the person in question. "Might I ask what you are doing with A Beginner's Guide to Animagi?"

Sirius looked up at her and regarded her defiantly. "Nothing wrong with a bit of light reading, is there, Miss?"

Minerva bristled. "No, there is nothing wrong with a bit of light reading," she conceded. "And you will do well not to refer to me as Miss. However, I think you will find that you and your classmates will not be studying Animagi until next year."

"Well, you see, Miss," Sirius began. The professor ignored the jibe. "I've enjoyed your lessons so much, I thought I might read ahead."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, it is." Somehow, the teacher doubted that this young miscreant was reading voluntarily, in broad daylight, in order to enhance his education, instead of creating trouble with Potter and the others. There was certainly something suspicious about the sudden interest in Animagi, but the professor realised that she was wasting time with the Black.

"Very well, then. Provided you realise that becoming an Animagus before you are of age is highly illegal?"

"Yes," said Sirius, without breaking eye contact with her. "Of course I do."

"Then I will leave you to your… Light reading." Sirius turned back to the book in his lap, trying to maintain his unimpressed expression. Minerva didn't fail to notice the faint line that had appeared between his eyebrows. "Oh, and Mr Black?"

"Yeah?"

"Take your feet off the table."

Minerva McGonagall was not an absent-minded woman. She did not forget her encounter with Sirius Black. He and his friends behaved no differently – they continued to wreak havoc within the hallowed halls of the school, as their reputations now called for - and the professor found the matter of what the young Black thought he was doing drifting further and further from her mind. She did not, however, forget it.

When it eventually came to teaching the Gryffindor third years the subject of Animagi, Minerva was reminded sharply of the incident in the library, and she watched the boys closely. Yet they did not seem out of the ordinary. As Remus bent over his work, his friends leaned too far back on their chairs, passed notes over his head, and exchanged lazy whispers. Minerva thought she may, perhaps, have been too harsh on Sirius all those months before.

Her doubts vanished only a few weeks later, however, when, as she walked to her quarters, she was stopped by a panting caretaker. "Student," he gasped, leaning his hands on his knees.

"Mr Filch, do take a hold of yourself," she replied sharply, wishing she had just been a little bit quicker in packing up her desk. Her plans for the evening had not included punishing irritatingly badly behaved students. "And kindly explain what you mean."

"Student out of bed, Professor," he explained, starting to get his breath back. "One of yours."

"To which student are you referring?" she asked impatiently.

"That Potter boy. I found him, in the restricted section of the library."

"Very well," she said, resigning herself to an evening of reprimanding James Potter. It was not a routine with which she was unfamiliar.

She followed the caretaker at a dignified distance and wondered if his filth was a result of hard work, or lack of bathing. "Here he is, Professor," Mr Filch said, opening the door to his office. Inside, staring at the shining and threatening instruments hanging above the caretaker's desk with a disinterestedly, sat a bespectacled boy, his hands shoved inside his pocket. He turned swiftly at the sound of the door opening, and his face fell when he saw his head of house.

"Mr Potter," she said, stepping into the room. "Explain yourself."

"Well – you see, this is how it is, Professor…"

"I found him stealing this book," Mr Filch interrupted, holding up a large tome which looked almost untouched. On it was written The Art to Becoming an Animagus from Scratch – A Beginner's Guide in gold lettering. Realisation washed over the teacher as she looked from the book to the boy, who was glaring at his feet.

"Mr Potter, I hope you realise just how much trouble you would be in if you were caught in an attempt to become an unregistered Animagus."

"Yes, Professor," he said, flushing and making a concerted effort not to stammer.

"I trust there will be no more of this nonsense?"

"No, Professor. Of course not."

"Good." James didn't look up. "I think one detention with you should be enough, don't you, Mr Filch?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the caretaker nodded. He had been watching the exchange between pupil and teacher gleefully, and seemed satisfied with the outcome.

"You may go," she said to the young boy. As he turned to leave, she spoke up again. "Take my warning, Potter. I don't think you know what you're getting in to."

James looked up, and met his teacher's eye. His expression read I know exactly what I'm getting in to, but he merely nodded and left. Minerva sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Can I help you any more, Professor?" Filch asked, looking uncertainly at the woman.

"No," she said, following her student's suit. "No, that will be all for now."

Having heard nothing more of the young Gryffindors' interest in Animagi, Minerva found herself drifting into oblivion when it came to their more illegal pastimes. She had plenty of other things to be worrying herself with anyway. With the NEWTs and OWLs, followed by the summer holidays, and then the new First Years, there was suddenly very little time to be keeping a close eye on the Marauders

It was the week before Christmas, and all Minerva wanted to do was to finish teaching her third years – to teach those who were listening, anyway – and get out, to the mountainous pile of marking waiting in her office. She did not want to waste her time the Gryffindor boys. Her efforts were cut short, however, when Peter started choking, grasping the desk for emphasise.

"It's alright, Miss," Sirius reassured her as James thumped the mousy boy on the back. "He'll be fine in a moment."

The absence of Remus Lupin was noticeable, to say the least. Although the boy was solemn and serious, and quite out of place in his gang of friends, a space was left open for him beside James, as though they were waiting for him to pop back from the toilet. Minerva knew full well that he was in the Hospital Wing, recovering from a particularly bad moon, and she had a sneaking suspicion that the Marauders also knew this.

"Mr Pettigrew, do try not to disrupt my class," she said resignedly, not bothering to stand up from her desk. But when a soggy leaf flew from his mouth, she found herself striding towards the table.

"What in God's name…" she said under her breath as she approached the table of now guilty-looking boys, and then – "Is that a Mandrake leaf?" she asked in horror.

James and Sirius exchanged uneasy glances as Peter gasped for air, his eyes watering. Before the infamous pair managed to cook up a ridiculous explanation, she said, "You boys have some explaining to do. My office, now." Her voice hardened and her eyes narrowed threateningly at them all. Hurriedly, all three of them stood up and left the room. The whole class whispered and giggled as they left, pointing at the leaf that now lay limply on the desk.

Minerva looked at the leaf before drawing a deep breath. "Lord have mercy," she muttered as the bell ended her lesson for her.

"Well," she said, striding into her office. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

The three boys had lined themselves up in front of her desk, as they were accustomed to. She sat down opposite them, laced her fingers together, and stared at Peter, her eyes boring into him.

"I don't think there's anything in the rulebooks about not eating leaves in school, actually – " Sirius began, but the professor rolled her eyes.

"You may leave, Mr Black. And you," she said, looking at James. "I think this is a matter Mr Pettigrew and myself should discuss."

Peter looked terrified at the prospect, but Sirius patted him on the back, and James wished him the best of luck, before they both left. He was now alone but for the head of his house, and he seemed to shrink in front of her eyes.

"Are you and your friends trying to become illegal Animagi?" she asked bluntly. She was too exhausted to beat around the bush.

"N-no, Professor," he stammered, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape.

Minerva gave a miniscule sigh, and wondered what the best way to go about dealing with the anxiety-ridden boy was. "Because I wish to impress on you not only the lengthy sentence in Azkaban you would be facing for doing so, but how dangerous it is without the proper training."

He twisted his hands nervously, but gave no response. "Peter," she said, taking pity on the boy. "You don't have to do something just because Potter and Black ask you to." Peter's head, which had turned to look at the door, snapped back to her. He gave a very small nod. "Do you want to tell me what you were doing with a Mandrake leaf in your mouth, Peter?"

"I-" After a moment's hesitation, his eyes dropped to the floor. "I like the taste."

The teacher turned her back to him in frustration, and started shuffling papers on her desk. "You may go," she said. As she heard the door shut behind Peter, she could only imagine what she would do with the boys.

Minerva McGonagall was working through the sixth year's essays in her office when a familiar face appeared in the door. "Poppy," she said, pleasantly. "How may I help you?"

Madame Pomfrey stepped into the room, closing the door carefully behind her. Minerva remarked to herself how odd it was to see her friend anywhere other than the Hospital Wing. "Good afternoon, Minerva," she said, smoothing her starch apron a little apprehensively. "I wondered if you might be of a service to me."

"Of course."

"As you know, tomorrow is a full moon." The professor inclined her head in agreement. "But I, unfortunately, am unable to be present. I've been asked to visit a special case in Moscow, and really feel I ought to go."

"I see."

"And, since I will not be able to be with Mr Lupin the… Morning after, I thought you might be able to…?"

Minerva smiled. "I'll be glad to take care of Mr Lupin."

"Thank you Minerva," the nurse said, smiling in reply.

Remus must be about sixteen, now, Minerva thought as she walked across the grounds. It was barely morning - the mountains hid what little sun might have risen. She pulled her cloak about herself, and bent her head to the icy wind that blew straight through her, thinking about how much she disliked February.

The last time Minerva had been to visit Remus straight after the moon was when he was still in First Year. He had then been a rather small werewolf and yet his naked body was still bloody and broken as he lay on the cold, stone floor, knocked unconscious by the pain of his transformation. Now, he was almost a fully-grown man. She shuddered to think of what sort of damage he may have done to himself.

She followed the path down to the Whomping Willow, and ducked her head when she walked through the passage. A vague feeling of apprehension came over her as she entered the Shrieking Shack, and the smell of blood hit her nose.

She opened the door to Remus' room, wand at the ready in case Remus had not yet woken and was still indecent. "What on earth…" she gasped as she saw the scene before her.

Remus was not awake, but that seemed to be of little matter. His head rested on the stomach of an enormous stag, its dark hair matted and two distinct rings around the closed eyes. Beside him was a dog with equally matted fur, and lying on the head of the dog was a rat. All three animals were sleeping soundly.

Minerva's eyes widened in shock. There was no confusion as to why the animals were lying in front of her, but she struggled to believe that the boys had actually managed it. Illegal Animagi. All three of them. Incredible.

The door creaked as she pushed it open wider, and she could see Remus stir. His expression matched hers when he realised that she could see his friends, in all their glory. The student's eyes met his teacher's and Minerva could see the pleading in them. But there was no need for Remus to beg her not to give up his friends to the Ministry. She would be damned before any one of them went to Azkaban.

In a business-like manner, the professor went about healing Remus' wounds. Neither uttered word, apart from an embarrassed squeak from Remus when he realised he was still naked. When she was finished, and could see that he needed no help getting back to the castle, she decided to leave the boys alone.

"Professor-" Remus began as she reached the door.

"It's alright Remus," was the only reassurance she offered, and left with her head held high.

The matter was not discussed again.