Career Advice

Chapter 1: James

I disclaim anything that is recognized as being owned/published by JK Rowling.

Alright, so as I was writing for my AU series I was struck by the thought of what McGonagall may have gone through while giving career advice to the Marauders. This mini story will include the canon characters in addition to some of the ones from my AU, but I don't think anyone will have a problem keeping up. Enjoy!

This entire story will be from McGonagall's POV.

It was that time of the year again. OWLs were fast approaching and while normally I looked forward to the majority of my one on one sessions with the Gryffindors, this year I was seriously considering making Albus handle them. And who could blame me for that?

I shuffled the papers on my desk in irritation, hoping for a distraction to come and force me to postpone my meeting with Potter. This wasn't the meeting I was dreading most, but it was certainly in the top three. Black and Pettigrew were up there as well. Lupin, on the other hand, would control himself; he was probably the most serious out of the five of them. McIntosh, however, I was on the fence about. On the one hand, she was Potter's foster sister and Black's girlfriend. On the other, she maintained a good friendship with Evans and Jones. Still, she wasn't as reserved as Lupin…

I sighed and looked down at my watch. Of course Potter was late, what else did I expect?

I was seriously considering going and looking for him when there was a loud pounding on my door followed by it opening to reveal Potter. He was breathless, covered in a mixture of mud and sweat and wearing his Quidditch gear, clutching his broom tightly in one hand.

"Sorry I'm late, Mickey!" he chirped, shutting the door behind him and coming forward to sit down. I winced as his feet squelched against the floor just before he took a seat.

"How many times must I tell you not to call me that, Potter?" I asked, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes.

He didn't answer me as he grinned widely, wiping his forehead with the back of his muddied uniform. It did more harm than good.

"So, Mr. Potter, we are here to discuss what career you think you may wish to pursue after Hogwarts," I began, choosing to ignore his appearance for the time being. At least I knew he was practicing hard. "This decision is, in some ways, based upon the outcomes of your OWL examinations and—" I paused as he raised his hand. "What is it, Potter?"

"I already know what I want to do," he replied, keeping his hand in the air. "I want to be an Auror, like my dad."

I entertained myself for a moment imagining Potter running around in charge of protecting the people of the wizarding world. The image terrified me.

"Very well, Potter," I said aloud, looking down to skim through his grades. Miracles had happened before, after all. "You will need to get OWLs in Transfiguration, which I am sure you will be able to do after that last essay you did on Vanishing," he beamed at me and finally lowered his hand. "You will also need DADA, and I believe you may be the top of the class in that course, your current professor certainly has no complaints."

"What about Charms? I know I have somewhere between an E and an A right now I think…" he asked, fidgeting in his seat for a moment.

"No, Potter, you have an E right now. But it would certainly do you no harm to add in a little extra effort there. However, your Potions grades leave something to be desired."

"Potions? What good are potions in the field? I won't have time to sit and brew something!" he protested, flinging his hand out to gesticulate.

"As an Auror you will need to be able to recognize common poisons and be aware of the antidotes necessary to treat some of the simpler ailments," I answered patiently.

"C'mon, Mickey, that's what Healers are for!" he groaned.

"Potter, don't make me give you a detention."

"Sorry, Professor, but I mean it!"

"Come now, Potter, Potions cannot be that difficult for you," I replied, glancing down at the file Horace had given me. Then I looked at it a bit harder. "Or perhaps it is…"

"Told you so," he retorted, crossing his arms and beginning to sulk.

"Potter, how on earth are you able to prank so adeptly and yet fail so miserably at Potions?" I asked before I had time to think better of the question.

"Moony," he answered promptly. "Sometimes Padfoot pitches in too. Me, Wormy and Blacktip are forbidden to go near the cauldrons though."

"I'll assume that 'Moony' is in reference to Mr. Lupin," I said stonily. On the one hand, it was good that Lupin had friends, on the other… "How did you come up with the other names?"

"Padfoot is Sirius; his feet sound like they're padded when he walks barefoot across tile," he replied with a shrug. "Ask Keena, we didn't get it either but it stuck. Wormy is short for Wormtail which is Peter; did you know he's afraid of worms? He doesn't like how both ends look like the tail." Somehow this information didn't surprise me. "Blacktip is Keena, obviously, because…" he paused and frowned.

I raised an eyebrow at him as he sat frowning at his hands.

"Don't you recall?"

"Actually no," he replied looking up at me with a confused expression. "We probably came up with it first year…oh, that's right! The black part came from her being blind. Don't know where the second half of her name came from, other than we couldn't just call her Black—too confusing considering how many of them there are at Hogwarts."

"I see," I answered. I had no idea what he was talking about; those nicknames were all ridiculous.

"Anyway, that's how we get the potions done right," he concluded, bringing us back on topic. "But how am I supposed to bring my Potions up to an…A?" he suggested hopefully.

"An E, actually," I corrected, feeling a headache coming on.

"Merlin's bloody—er, boots?" he caught himself as I presented him with one of my very best stern looks. He sighed and shook his head. "What happens if I can't do it? I don't think I'm cut out for anything else, Professor."

I was taken aback for a moment by how sincere he was being. Was this really Potter?

"I'm sure you will manage, Potter. In the meantime, place an increased effort towards Potions and study carefully."

"And if that still doesn't work?"

"Occasionally the Auror Program will make exceptions. Maintain higher grades in all other subject areas and stop that foolish pranking business and you should be fine."

"You don't think they'd be impressed with my creativity?" he asked, winking at me.

"No, I don't."

"Dumbledore thinks we're funny."

"Which likely accounts for why he is not in charge of the Auror Unit," I said dryly. "I don't suppose your father has ever introduced you to the likes of Alastor Moody?"

He winced. At least I was getting through to him.

"I don't s'pose you could maybe stop making records of everything else that may or may not happen in the next two years?"

"If you behave yourself I don't see that it will be a problem," I replied, keeping the cat-like smile that wanted to escape from showing on my face. Whoever said Gryffindors couldn't manipulate just as well as a Slytherin?

"Mickey, it's like you don't know me at all," he answered, shaking his head at me.

I presented him with one of my best glares. He returned an overly bright smile at me before bolting from my office as I opened my mouth to issue him a detention. The door shut with a snap, leaving me alone in my office for a moment. The image of Potter dressed in his Quidditch uniform rescuing a band of first years returned to my thoughts.

I brought my hand to my forehead and just barely contained a groan.

After a brief moment to compose myself, I made a few notations in his records and checked him off of my list of Gryffindor fifth years before reading through it. Lupin had signed up for the next slot, which I feared regretting since it took away something to look forward to for after Black's meeting, which wouldn't take place until after Pettigrew's turn. McIntosh would follow Black, which may or may not end up being my salvation. The girl already had a good resume on her side by dint of going through Hogwarts blind for four years, something the Ministry had already approached Albus about. Apparently they had wanted to use her for some experiment or other while she was still blind. Albus had told the Minister no before the suggestion had even fully crossed his lips and, without pause, had returned to our discussion about what to do for his brother's birthday.

I shook my head and returned to reading the list. Evans would follow McIntosh and then Dale, Jones and lastly Riggs. I frowned at the list for a moment, wondering how the boys had managed to get ahead of all of the girls before shrugging. It didn't matter.

So, Potter wanted to be an Auror. That meant that Black wanted to be one too. Lupin, I knew, wasn't expecting more than a librarian job. Pettigrew shouldn't expect more than a library cleaning job. McIntosh shouldn't do anything involving a cauldron, though she was quite good at Transfiguration and her essays, and some of the pranks she partook in with her foster brother and hooligan friends, indicated an interest in experimenting with spells. Evans showed a similar interest in Potions and Horace often raved about her, lamenting that she wasn't in his house.

Riggs and Dale wouldn't do well at any sort of indoor desk job, having interests lying in Herbology and Astronomy respectively. Unfortunately I had no idea what that would leave either girl with. Jones, though, was very interested in Care of Magical Creatures, and I knew that Professor Kettleburn often had her come down to assist him with injured animals. I made a mental note to suggest Healing to her as a profession.

I shook my head once more before turning back to the signup sheet in front of me.

"One down, eight to go…" I muttered to myself. This was going to be a long week.

I hope you liked this and will come back for the next few chapters!

:-D