"… very pleased, I must say - it hasn't been easy work that I have set you, but you have all achieved acceptable or - in some cases - exceptional marks."
James tilted his chair back onto its back legs and leant back as far as he could. He always chose the seat near the window; if he leant back, like he was now, he could see the lake and the sunny - at the moment - grounds. It was hot inside the Transfiguration classroom; resting one hand on the windowsill to support himself, James pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the window. It gave a soft click and swung open, and James breathed in the fresh air gratefully.
"… although, as you all will know, I do not permit favouritism, I feel such hard work merits a small reward. Ten house points to all of you - yes, even you, Pettigrew, I found your essay on Animagus transformations to be more than sufficient - and … as much as this goes against my better will - fifteen points to Mr Potter, who was the only one of all of you to get full marks on the recent test."
The use of his name vaguely stirred with James, who was fanning himself with The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Seven, but he didn't immediately acknowledge it.
"Mr Potter?" Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the humid air like a knife. "Oh, for pity's sake, Potter, can you not even pay attention when you're being praised?"
James snapped out of his stupor, falling back onto four legs. The Standard Book of Spells fell to the floor with a thump.
"Praised?" he repeated confusedly. "By who?"
"Me, Potter," said Professor McGonagall wearily. "Dear me, what on earth shall I do with you?"
Across the room, Sirius raised his hand, grinning, perhaps to suggest a suitable punishment for James, but at that moment the bell rang. James got to his feet, feeling extremely relieved. There was no love lost between Professor McGonagall and Sirius, but James had the horrible feeling that if Sirius were to suggest something really wicked for his best friend, their Head of House might just take him up on it.
"Potter! A moment, please!"
Almost at the door, James wheeled around to face Professor McGonagall. He was very fond of her, as most Gryffindors were; despite her strict and fierce manner, she had a kind heart that she reserved for her House. James sincerely hoped that this was the case now; crossing his fingers in his pocket, he stood in front of her desk and waited. Professor McGonagall surveyed him through her square spectacles.
"If you had been listening, Potter," she began, "you would have known that I awarded you fifteen house points for getting full marks on last week's test."
James felt like shouting out, perhaps something like "No way!" or "Merlin's beard, Professor, is it really you?" but settled instead for looking modest.
"You are, Potter, as I am sure you know, my best student," Professor McGonagall continued sternly, and James wondered how she managed to make praise like that - so rare, from McGonagall! - sound like a reproval. "Professor Dumbledore and I talked for a very long time about the decision to make you Head Boy this year. The eventual decision was made because we truly felt that you have changed, Potter. Last year showed a marked improvement in you. Fewer detentions. Fewer students coming to me with various ailments, claiming that you and Black had hexed them."
James wondered vaguely where this was going, but said nothing.
"Now," said Professor McGonagall, "I think we both know that a person does not change their nature just like that. I quite understand if you do not wish to confide in me, Potter, but I merely wondered whether there was anything that you might wish to tell somebody?"
James stared at her. Far from looking stern now, Professor McGonagall's eyebrows were knitted together in a concerned look and her steely gaze had definitely softened.
And the thing was, what she was asking, James didn't even know himself. Why had he stopped hexing people for the fun of it? Why had he started saying no to Sirius's suggestions of midnight jaunts around the castle? All he knew was that he liked this new version of himself. He liked having people look up to him and knowing they could approach him without earning a tail and a pair of fluffy ears. He had felt proud, exceptionally proud, when he had seen the badge that was now pinned to his robes, especially when Lily Evans had told him 'congratulations' with a smile.
"Potter?" Professor McGonagall pressed.
James picked at the sleeve of his robe, wondering what to tell her. "No," he said eventually. "It was just one of those things, Professor. People can change just like that, and I did, and I don't think anyone's complaining, do you?"
He thought perhaps he had gone too far, but McGonagall's thin mouth turned into something of a smile and he could have sworn her beady eyes were twinkling behind the spectacles. "No, Potter, I don't," she said, sounding amused. She made a dismissive gesture, and James turned to leave. As he reached the door, he could have sworn he heard McGonagall say quietly, "particularly Lily Evans."
James walked down to dinner with something of a skip in his step.
This doesn't have any particular point, but as I've said before, I really like James, even though we don't see that much of him in the books, and I love McGonagall - she was brilliant in Deathly Hallows! I pondered for a while about putting McGonagall's last line in - would she notice something like that, and if she did, would she mention? But then I thought that McGonagall did seem very fond of Lily and James in the books - in Philosopher's Stone, remember, and Prisoner of Azkaban - and after having them in her house for seven years, I think she would be quite pleased and probably amused to see a relationship blooming between them! And just so you know, in my timeline, Lily and James go on their first date in February 1978, so this is between November 1977 and January '78.
Let me know if you like this.
