Detention
"Come in."
Harry pushed the door to the office open. It had been a while since he had been in here. The professor preferred to spend her time in her classroom when she was working and Harry could see why.
The room was fairly small and more crowded than he would have expected from a teacher as neat and orderly as Professor McGonagall. There was a couple of no-nonsense wooden chairs, a slightly more comfortable one, a large wooden desk and a smaller one by the windows which looked out onto the quiddich training grounds. The window and fireplace took up most of the tower wall, and there was another (closed) door that Harry thought he had been told back in first year led to his Head of House's bedroom. Along the rest of the walls were shelves with instruments that would not have looked out of place in Dumbledore's office.
"Mr Potter, if you have quite finished gawping at my possessions?"
Harry blinked and turned to focus on her. She had one appraising eyebrow raised- her right, it was always the right one.
"Sorry Professor."
She waved a hand dismissively, and stood up. "No matter, you will have had your fill of looking at them soon enough."
Oh good, Harry knew exactly where this was heading…
"Your detention this afternoon will be to clean these instruments." She gestured to the set of shelves along the back wall. "The muggle way, if you would, Mr Potter. They are extremely delicate and react badly to most spells. At least; there are none which would clean but not cause damage, you understand?"
Harry nodded, "Yes, Professor. Is there any way in particular you would like me to clean them?"
McGonagall smiled approvingly, "There are some cloths and water down there," she pointed down to a bucket Harry hadn't noticed yet. "And Professor Snape has kindly provided some of his patented anti-dust solution for today, four drops should do it." She handed him a small vial before returning to her comfortable seat behind her desk. She picked up the pile of marking she had there and shuffled it into a different order, refilling her inkwell with scarlet ink.
Harry stood where he was for a couple of seconds before shaking his head to clear it and kneeling next to the bucket.
The cleaning solution smelled foul. Harry wondered as he carefully counted the drops whether Snape had provided the potion as a favour to McGonagall or because he knew it was going to be used by Harry in detention.
Out of all of the possibilities, Harry quite enjoyed being in detentions where he had to clean. He was used to doing it at the Dursley's in the summer and at least he knew here he wouldn't be expected to do it for more than about three hours at a time.
Harry detested having to do lines however. Since last year's hellish Umbridge detentions- seven hours straight of writing the same damned sentence over and over into his own skin- Harry didn't think he would be able to do that again. Moving along to the next shelf, Harry could clearly see the shiny, scarred words on the back of his right hand. He had the odd thought that he was glad he wrote fairly consistently.
Cleaning the instruments was no more difficult than cleaning Aunt Petunia's fine china. Or her (incredibly tacky), prized glass chandelier.
They didn't speak to each other for quite some time, the only noises were the occasional wringing out of a cloth, the scratching of the quill on parchment and the distant sounds of the Gobstone club from their winter spot in the Entrance Hall.
Harry had made his way along the two shelves and stood up to stretch out his back and knees, he thought he heard the scratching sounds stop for a moment but there was simply a shuffling of parchment as the Transfiguration teacher moved onto a new set of homework.
The last thing to tackle was a great glass orrery. They used similar ones in astronomy on the rare occasions when the class was held in the daytime, or when they were studying the planets in Divination. Harry couldn't think of a reason for the Transfiguration mistress needing one though- and they were expensive.
There was a small bronze plaque on the side
Minerva McGonagall
On the occasion of her 45th Birthday
Your loving Fiancé
Elphinstone Urquart
Harry was surprised and took special care to clean the plaque first. He didn't know McGonagall had been married. He was almost certain she wasn't now, he knew he missed quite a lot of everyday stuff but he thought he would have noticed a Mr McGonagall kicking about the castle.
Well, a Mr Urquart at any rate.
The orrery was a kind of contained magical planetarium. Under its glass cover was a sort of half-mechanical, half-magical version of the solar system. On the inside of the glass were the constellations and other stars and planets. Then there were the planets themselves, all to scale, with the sun in the middle.
Using magic and cogs, the viewer could set the instrument to a specific date, and then move the whole thing to show how all of the celestial bodies shifted over time. The other feature was being able to see the sizes of the planets change- being able to 'zoom in' as muggles would put it. That way you could see exactly what all of Jupiter's moons were up to.
Harry cleaned it as well as he could, a task especially difficult because he knew that as soon as everything changed size, the whole device would be a mess again. He had no idea how it came to be as full of dirt as it was. Harry was especially perplexed as to how the professor had managed to get that green goo so firmly stuck to Jupiter. When he was happy he had done the best he could, Harry carefully swung the glass top back up and closed it with a light thud.
"Potter, what do you think you are doing?"
The Scotswoman had appeared next to him in an instant. Instinctively, he took a step backwards.
McGonagall spun the lid open carefully, almost reverently.
"Nothing broke, did it Potter? Nothing smashed?" She sounded panicky, that made Harry nervous. He'd seen her more in control battling Death Eaters and Dementors or dealing with petrified students (both literally and figuratively). It was unnerving to see her like that.
"Professor, nothing broke. I swear- it's just a little cleaner if anything. I didn't move any of the planets either, just in case."
She turned around to look at him and Harry flinched away. Last time he had been in a situation this tense with a teacher, Snape had thrown cockroaches at his head. McGonagall was closer, had sharper objects to hand and, Harry strongly suspected, a better throwing arm.
At his reaction though, she lost some of her tenseness. Her shoulders sagged down and she gently replaced the top of the orrery.
"Harry, take a seat."
"Professor?" He asked, wide eyed She hardly ever used his first name.
"You aren't in trouble, Mr Potter, sit down."
He did, taking the chair in front of her desk, she sat down in her own seat. "Have a biscuit, Potter."
Desperately trying to ignore the feeling of déjà vu he was suddenly getting, Harry picked a Ginger Newt from the proffered tartan tin.
"Would you like some tea, Mr Potter?" Harry blinked back, speechless. He was supposed to be in detention-
Professor McGonagall sighed and conjured a teapot and some cups, pulling a pot of tealeaves out of a draw. She filled the teapot with a silent Aguamenti, then boiled the water with another charm before adding the leaves.
Harry had never seen anybody make tea in such an overtly magical way before, it was a little mesmerising.
The Professor rapped her knuckles on the desk the same way she might in a Transfiguration lesson if a pupil's attention was wandering.
"How do you take your tea?" She asked sharply.
"Um, one sugar, please?"
She nodded, producing some from yet another box in her desk draw. Harry was glad to see that she strained the tea while pouring, he hated tea leaves- they just got stuck in your throat, then you couldn't get rid of them, and then somebody used them to predict your death.
Finally finished, McGonagall put the cup down gently, handle towards him. She took a deep breath before launching into a story.
"I married Elphinstone in 1982, you would probably be surprised to hear that your father had something to do with it." McGonagall stirred her tea gently, before tapping it on the edge of the cup and then absently vanishing the spoon. "Indirectly, I suppose, your mother did as well. As you have no doubt been informed by Messrs Black and Lupin, James had a rather strong 'crush' on Lily for a long time." Harry nodded, eager to hear more, biting down on his amazement that his Head of House had said he word 'crush', or that she was telling her about herself and his parents.
"During their time at school, James and his friends spent an inordinate amount of time in Hogsmeade. On one occasion, they overheard one of Elphinstone's marriage proposals."
'One of?' Harry thought to himself.
"After that, of course, the boy started drawing parallels between my situation and his with Lily. Being your father, he had to draw them in a way which was invariably loud, public and ostentatious, not to mention persistent... Once, he taught the entire Gryffindor and Hufflepuff quiddich teams to spell out 'Marry Me' in semaphore, despite nobody watching in the crowd being able to understand it. I gave him detention for that, altogether there must have been dozens of them over the years, it didn't faze him one bit."
Harry couldn't hide his grin at that, the professor noticed and smiled back at him. "When your parents began going out in their 6th year. I thought that might calm James down a little. Somehow- I don't know how he managed it- your mother joined in on it all as well. After that, it was hardly any time at all before Elphinstone proposed again and I said yes."
She drained her cup of tea, sadness creeping back into her eyes again.
"Elphinstone bought me the orrery, then shortly after your parents both left Hogwarts and I married. Then they passed away, and Elphinstone was only with me for another three years before his accident."
She put the cup back onto the table, "I am sincerely sorry if I startled you before, Mr Potter. I would not have accused you or your father of intentionally breaking that planetarium. It is just that I don't even allow the house elves to clean it. And when I saw you peering into it the same way your father did the first time he saw it and exactly the same age… I can remember that grin of his exactly- he said 'Well it's about bloody time, Professor'."
Harry chuckled, he knew he wouldn't dare to swear at the Depute Headmistress.
"Well, quite, he always was brave" She laughed, "I gave him three detentions, I believe. It may have been a little over the top, but he had such nice handwriting and I had all of those wedding invitations to send."
McGonagall stood up again and walked around to get a good look at the orrery. Her fingers traced over the words on the plaque.
"You did a good job Mr Potter, well done. Thirty points to Gryffindor, I had expected you to stop after the shelves were complete."
"Thank you professor." Harry swallowed around a lump in his throat, "I'd like to finish cleaning it up if you would show me how to move some of the parts?"
Professor McGonagall looked back at him with bright eyes.
"If you think I might brea…"
She held up a hand to interrupt him, smiling gently.
"Mr Potter, you are your parents' son, which means I have absolutely no doubts that I shall be seeing you back here within the fortnight. The orrery will be here waiting and it has gained a lot of dust."
That's it for the 2shot. If you enjoyed this, please take a look at my Sectumsempra fic. It's a work in progress and I won't be writing much until mid-december but there's a bit more of the story to keep you going.
I hope you like McGonagall here, she's always been one of my favourite characters and I wanted to give her a chance. I saw an orrery at Leavensden Studios and the British museum this summer and I've fallen in love!
