A/N: Professor Goldstein is Padma Patil Goldstein. I thought you might wonder why I referred to her as a "she" ;)
Wednesday morning
the Hogwarts grounds
James plunged down the stone steps onto the grounds. Why did she have to send a Howler? Why had she shortened the charm so that it opened before he had a chance to get off by himself? Everyone already knew who he was; he didn't need his mother yelling at him in front of the whole school like he was a child. He was sixteen years old, for Merlin's sake. Almost a grown man! He hadn't meant for anyone to get hurt like that. It had scared him, seeing Millie and Caitlin crying with their hands over their faces, but had his mum thought of that? No! It was always what he did wrong, how he messed up, and it was never private, never! James swiped an arm across his face when he saw Cameron approaching.
"Hey." Cameron tossed James's schoolbag on the ground beside him and sat down. "You're not supposed to be out here. Potions starts in ten minutes."
"Screw Potions, and screw McGonagall."
"Fawley will still be mad about the fireworks. You don't want to be late."
"Screw him too."
"Are you trying to get kicked off the team, James?"
James stared out over the lake. He didn't even know why he'd come here; it was his dad's tree. His dad and Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione's, the beech tree they had sat and revised under, had planned to leave school under. Maybe that was why. He'd like nothing better than to leave school right now, except that it meant he'd have to go home.
He didn't think he would be particularly welcome.
"I'm sorry about the Howler. Mums can be a real pain."
"You have no idea."
"She doesn't know about yesterday, does she?"
James finally turned to look at his friend. "What?"
"Yesterday. She doesn't know. Everything in her letter was about Potions on Monday. She must not have got McGonagall's letter about the catnip before she sent the Howler."
James stared, feeling the resentment stretch into horror. "Shit! She talked about taking my broomstick. She said—she said one more letter, and she'd come up here!"
"Surely she didn't mean it," Cameron said quickly. "Parents aren't allowed at Hogwarts, right? Not unless their kid's really sick or something."
James gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah, but my mum's Ginny Weasley Potter. She can do whatever the hell she likes."
"Well, your mum can't take you off the team. McGonagall or Longbottom would have to do that."
"But she could take my broomstick, and you know what the school brooms are like. We'll never win the Cup if I have to ride one of those artifacts!"
"Then we'd better get to class, mate. Don't want to give your mum anything else to yell about."
"Shit," James said again, and the two boys sprinted for the castle.
()()()()
Friday morning
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Ginny strode up the drive, her eyes fixed straight ahead on the double doors to Hogwarts Castle. She didn't want to see the spot where….
The Entrance Hall was eerily quiet and empty; first period had already started. As she climbed the marble staircase, she automatically glanced at the hourglasses. Ravenclaw was in the lead. She was recognized by the portraits as she walked down corridors and climbed staircases to the Headmistress's office. She heard their muttering and watched them dash from frame to frame to spread the news of her arrival.
It felt strange to be back; she hadn't been to Hogwarts since she left … Merlin, twenty-two years ago. It felt even stranger that everything looked so familiar; perhaps a few new portraits here and there, and the Quidditch stands had been painted, and the Whomping Willow was considerably larger, but the front gates with their winged boar statues, the Entrance Hall, the marble staircase, the glass hourglasses that tracked the house points, were all just as they had always been. Her feet were carrying her to the Head's office without any special effort at all.
Ginny eyed the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance. She had no idea of the password, and she hadn't notified McGonagall she was coming; Ginny was afraid her idea would have been vetoed immediately. She knew the Minister of Magic and various other outsiders had visited the castle when she was at school, and surely they wouldn't have known the password either. Although they were probably expected and had an appointment, she thought. No matter; the magic in the castle was incredibly intuitive, and at least one of the portraits would have traveled to the Headmistress's office to announce Ginny's presence.
"Ginny Potter for Headmistress McGonagall," she told the gargoyle.
It did not move aside or answer her. She tipped her head, considering. She could probably find Neville in the greenhouses, but she would wait a few minutes first. It was a long walk back downstairs, and she had forgotten how far it was from the gates to the castle until she'd had to walk it in the chilly morning mist.
Ginny jumped as the gargoyle moved aside and the stone wall behind it split vertically, revealing a moving staircase. She stepped onto it, rapped the brass griffin door knocker at the top of the staircase three times, and entered when bade.
Minerva McGonagall sat behind her desk with a scroll of parchment draped over the edge. She finished her sentence, returned her quill to its ink pot, and fixed Ginny with her trademark beady stare.
"So, Mrs. Potter, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"
"It's about James. Nothing seems to be getting through to him, so I have decided a visit from his mother is in order."
"A visit," McGonagall repeated.
"Yes."
"Of what duration?"
"As long as it takes," Ginny said.
McGonagall's brows arched. "And the nature of this visit?"
"I'm going to shadow him. Attend his lessons, sit with him at meals, follow him around in his free time. The idea is to make his life miserable enough that following the rules starts to look like a pretty good alternative."
"Parents are not allowed at Hogwarts except in cases of extreme illness or injury. This is neither."
"I know that," Ginny said shortly. "But I'm his mother, and he's ultimately my responsibility, not yours. It's my decision what's best for him, and honestly, I don't know what else to do. We cannot allow him to continue on like this. Not when people are getting hurt."
McGonagall's expression lost some of its severity, and she fetched a teapot and two cups from the credenza behind her. A tap of her wand filled the kettle with water, and a second tap heated it instantly. She began to pour.
"Sometimes, you remind me very much of your mother."
Ginny sat back in surprise. "Thank you?"
"Yes, it's a compliment. She never lost sight of her job as mother, even when you all were out of her sight."
"It's much more difficult than I ever imagined," Ginny admitted, accepting a cup from her former teacher. "I thought as long as we didn't have a whole houseful, it would be okay, but…."
"What does Harry have to say about this?"
Ginny grimaced. "Harry is livid. I practically had to sit on him to keep him from storming up here when we got your owl, and I gave all my Howler parchment to Hermione. I reckoned one per week was enough. I haven't been able to hide anything from Harry since Auror training."
"I understand your concern, but I'm not sure this is the right way to go about influencing James's behavior. You are famous and popular, Ginny. One has to question how much of a punishment this will be. Your presence will cause a considerable disturbance and only increase the attention James already receives."
"I'm not here as a former Quidditch player or a DA member or even Harry's wife. I'm just James's mum. His ticked off, fed up, at-her-wit's-end mum."
"Nevertheless, you are all of those things. I'm afraid 'James's mum' is rather low on the list."
"Not for me, it's not," Ginny retorted. "I'll do my best not to make things more difficult for you, Professor, but I am going to do this for James. Harry and I don't know what's wrong, but James needs his mother, even if he doesn't realize it."
"What about Albus and Lily, and your nieces and nephews?"
"This is James's punishment, not theirs. I'll keep my distance."
"And if I say no?"
Ginny had anticipated this question. She looked the Headmistress full in the face. "Then Harry and I will appeal to the Board of Governors. I'm sorry, Professor. You know I respect your leadership, but something must be done about James. He's been unmanageable all summer, and we've tried everything else. If we take Quidditch away from him, he'll sulk and act out even worse, and I think Neville's right—James actually wants him to take his prefect badge away, and I'm not going to play into that. He needs to learn to shoulder the responsibility."
"Very well. But when this goes bad, do not expect me to clean up your mess."
"Of course not, Professor."
"Have you made arrangements for lodging?"
"Actually, I was hoping I could stay here."
"I'll tell Mr. Ward to give you a key to one of the guest suites. Do you know where they are?"
Ginny shook her head.
"Perhaps this will be of assistance." McGonagall opened her desk drawer and pulled out a familiar piece of old, blank parchment.
"The—"
"The Marauder's Map, I believe it is called," McGonagall said. "Remus told me, although admittedly not until after Harry did not return for his seventh year. James had it in his pocket. I also confiscated the Invisibility Cloak and some item that looks as if it came from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes." She stood and crossed to a cabinet, pulling out the named items. "I told James I would leave it up to you and Harry to decide when to return them to him."
Ginny ran her hand over the Cloak, feeling its fine texture. "Until this week, I think Harry was more upset that James was getting caught than he was about the pranks themselves."
"I would not be surprised," McGonagall said dryly. She remained standing.
Ginny stood as well. "Thank you, Professor."
"I hope this works, Ginny."
()()()()
Friday morning
Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom
James concentrated on the tip of his wand, trying to form a nonverbal Shield Charm. He needed to get the hang of nonverbal spells; they were a requirement for the Auror Academy. Professor Goldstein walked around the room, correcting grips, demonstrating wand movements, and generally providing assistance. He had to hand it to her; despite the detentions, she was not holding his prank with the boggart against him. She had just finished with him and Cameron, having had James cast a verbal Shield Charm while focusing on the feel of magic extending from his hand out through his wand. He was trying to duplicate the sensation without saying the incantation aloud and was sort of succeeding; the shield was strongest directly in front of him, but the jinxes Cameron aimed from the side were sliding through. They continued practicing, casting and reversing spells, until the bell rang for morning break.
James threw his bag over his shoulder and joined the queue to leave the classroom. Everyone was whispering and staring as they entered the hallway, and the queue moved much more slowly than usual. As soon as he reached the doorway, James saw why: his mother stood against the opposite wall.
"Hi, Mrs. Potter," Cameron said, peering around James's shoulder.
"Mum? What are you doing here?"
"Hello, Cameron, how are you?"
"Fine, thanks. I'll, uh, I'll see you later, James." Cameron backed down the hallway, gesturing wildly behind Ginny's back.
"Mum, what are you doing here?" James hissed. The crowd in the corridor was worse than usual as everyone inched by, trying to overhear their conversation.
"Is there an empty classroom nearby?"
James led the way down the hall and around the corner, where the crowd thinned as most of the pupils continued towards the marble staircase.
"Why are you here?" he asked as soon as she closed the door behind them.
"I told you if we received one more letter, I was coming up."
"You can't count what happened with McGonagall—I didn't get that Howler until after I'd already put the catnip in Professor Burke's classroom!"
His mother was more than half a foot shorter than he was, but her flashing eyes and tense posture were still intimidating. James took a step back.
"You couldn't even stay out of trouble for twenty-four hours. One day, son! The owls must have passed each other in flight!"
"But I haven't done anything since! Not a thing since you said you'd come up here and take my broomstick."
Ginny raised one eyebrow. "And how much of that has to do with the fact you no longer have the map or the Cloak? Although neither one seems to have been particularly helpful in avoiding detection."
"Yes, they have," James shot back, then winced as her other eyebrow raised. He'd just admitted to breaking more rules than she already knew about. He dropped his rucksack and sat down on a desk. "Are you here to take my broomstick?"
"Not yet. I'm here for a visit."
James eyed her suspiciously. "What does that mean?"
"It means I'm your new shadow," she said, smiling what his uncle George referred to as the Evil Expression. "You've been acting like a child, so I'm going to treat you like one. I'll be attending lessons and meals and hanging out with you every day, just like I did when you were little."
He gaped at her. "But—but—"
"I told you you wouldn't like it if I had to come up here."
"Mum, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for the firework to land in Millie's cauldron. It was supposed to explode Holly's bag. I never wanted anyone to get hurt, and that prank with McGonagall was just—just stupid. I'm really sorry, and I swear I won't get in trouble again, not the whole term. I promise."
"Well, I'm very glad to hear it," she said. "Even if I don't believe it."
James dropped the act and scowled at her. "For how long?"
"As long as it takes for you to convince me that you've had a sincere change of heart and your dad and I can rely on you to uphold your responsibilities as a sixth-year prefect and Quidditch captain. At least a couple of weeks, I reckon."
He jumped up. "Weeks!"
"You ought to be thanking me. You very nearly had a visit from your father when he saw the letter from Professor McGonagall. I haven't seen him that angry since the press coverage of Lily's Sorting."
James winced. Harry had still been furious when they went home that Christmas.
"You're really staying."
"I really am. McGonagall is arranging for me to have one of the guest suites."
"What about your job? Quidditch season is just starting."
"I can write from anywhere."
"So, you'll still be going to the practices?" James said hopefully.
"Not all of them. I'm going to try to continue covering the Harpies at least, but if I need to get someone to fill in for me, I will."
"Don't pretend you actually care about what I'm doing," James said hotly. "You're just doing this because you can, because you're Ginny Potter, Quidditch star. You don't want the bad press if someone starts talking about how I've screwed up. This isn't about anything more than that."
Her face flushed, and she stepped into his space and glared up at him. "I do care about you—first, last, and always. This is about me trying to get through your thick skull because you don't seem to care about house points or detentions or letters from home. People were hurt, James, and you humiliated a very dear friend of our family who defended me and your dad more than once when we were in school, who is a bigger war heroine than anyone who was not at Hogwarts that last year could possibly understand. Not to mention that Minerva McGonagall is a powerful witch and a dedicated teacher who deserves your respect in her own right. I have rarely been ashamed of you, Jamie, but this week—this week has been something else."
James turned his back and stared out the dusty window. Everything was always about his parents, always about the stupid war. Even when they tried to make it about him, it never was.
"We have told you and told you this level of misbehavior will not be tolerated, and you have completely ignored us. I will not raise a son who does not show respect for others and for himself. You're a smart boy, James. You have the potential to be a good captain and a good Auror, but if you want either of those things, you're going to have to work for them. I don't want to take your broomstick; I don't want to take you off the team; I don't want to pull you out of Hogwarts and teach you at home—"
He spun around, staring at her.
"But I will do whatever it takes to make you realize this destructive behavior has to stop. Do you understand me?"
"I've got to go. Class is about to start."
"James?"
But he brushed past her, hard enough to make her stumble, and slammed the door as he left.
Ginny had not yet caught up when James entered the Charms classroom and took the seat Cameron had saved for him.
"What's going on?"
"She's come to follow me around. Says 'this level of misbehavior will not be tolerated,'" he mocked.
"For how long?"
"At least a couple of weeks."
"Weeks?"
It was a relief to see his own horror mirrored on his best mate's face.
"But she's not taking my broomstick," James said quickly. "Not yet, at least."
"Well, that's something. Where is she now?"
James shrugged. "I left her in an empty classroom on the first floor. Didn't say which lesson I had next." He pulled out his textbook and wand.
"Uh-oh," Cameron muttered. "Here she comes."
Professor Viridian did not look surprised to see Ginny Potter enter his classroom, but then news traveled fast at Hogwarts, and James's mother was definitely news.
"She doesn't look very happy," Cameron added.
"Not happy" was an understatement. Ginny cut through a group of chattering Hufflepuffs like a dragon through dry timber, strode down the aisle, and wedged herself onto what little of the bench remained open beside James. His first thought was to bump her onto the floor, but she caught his eye, and her expression practically begged him. Go on, do it. I dare you.
James slid closer to Cameron. One thing his mother did not do was bluff.
