Disclaimer: The Harry Potter world and the characters within are not mine. Thank you for taking the time to read this disclaimer so I won't be sued.
A/N: The second chapter of "Faults," and this sucker took me two rough drafts to write. Darned muse was being a pain. Special thanks to Jestana for giving me the idea to write about her temper and for Freelancer for a little bit of title help. And as always, thanks to my numero uno beta, Mini Minerva.
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Temper
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The Scots are always stereotyped as having a temper not to be challenged; the McGonagalls have one that isn't to be touched with a ten-foot wand. I happen to have that very temper.
When I was born my Aunt Tess took one look at me and bet my father fifty galleons that I would have the worst temper out of all six of his children. He laughed and agreed to the bet, saying I would be as gentle as my mother.
Aunt Tess won 50 galleons before I was four.
By the age of three, the slightest thing could trigger my temper into motion…One of my five older brothers, a haughty child of a family friend, or just pure frustration. I wouldn't call them temper tantrums, but I would seethe for hours if allowed to. Everyone knew to give a hot headed McGonagall time to vent as there was no other way for them to calm down.
My father and three of my brothers, Michael, Sean, and Geoffrey, had tempers of their own. My father would narrow his eyes and seclude himself in the library, staring into the fire or out the window. Sean and Geoffrey would yell and throw things in their rooms while Michael would tear through he grounds on his broom for hours.
My mother, on the other hand, was the calmest person I have ever known. She rarely became angry, and when she did she controlled her anger well. She also had a calming affect on others. Only she could being my father out of the library or quiet my brothers down.
With her help, I learned to control my temper. Whenever I would begin to become angry, she would raise her eyebrows at me. With that look I knew to walk away from the situation. A frustrating task was to be set aside for several minutes and returned to after a calming walk. If she hadn't helped me to control my temper, I doubt I would be able to work with children such as Draco Malfoy or Neville Longbottom.
When I began my schooling at Hogwarts, my mother was no longer able to rescue me, or others, form my temper. She was only able to send me advice by owl. I didn't do very well on my own. I was quick to blow up at my fellow classmates and because of this; many avoided me as best as they could. The only time they would speak to me was if I was laughing.
Inevitably, I started an argument with my Slytherin Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I got the better of him and detention for a week. Every night at seven I was to do some meaningless task for him, which would probably have taken hours. Instead, he had to see to a family issue and I spent the nights with my Head of House, Professor Dumbledore.
Albus knew I had a temper; he was good friends with my grandfather and had taught my brothers before me. Each night of my detention we would discuss my temper and the best ways for me to control it; I am thankful for those nights.
Today, my temper is much easier to handle than when I was younger. I still get just as angry, but don't vocalize as much as I used to. Pursed lips are a sure sign that I'm trying not to let it slip. Albus still helps me with a well-placed cough or a calming hand on my lower back.
Even now I still lose my temper. Over the years, Albus and I have had many arguments, the most recent being about my confrontation with Umbridge and her goons outside of Hagrid's hut; Albus can have quite the temper himself.
I know my temper pushes people away; I've lost friends over the years because of it. I can't rid myself of my temper, but I can curb its harshness.
Thankfully, I have those who help along the way.
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End. Now, if you will kindly review, I need ideas on who to do next!