Chapter 29
The Ancient Wizarding Family McGonnagal
Harry looked on what he had just written. "Listen to this, you two," he requested to his friends and then began reading aloud.
"The McGonnagal family is an ancient Scottish Wizarding Family. They are by many considered one of the wisest families in all of Britian, where every fifth witch or wizard of this family having become respected Animagus. The most famous feat of bravery and valor of any McGonnagal would be that of one Michael McGonnagal, who personally defeated hundreds of the Dark Wizard Grindelvalt´s minions by means of secreting a large mine (a most powerful Muggle invention, that causes an explosion of catastrophic proportions) in Grindlevalt's manor home."
"Nicely done, Harry," Hermione said by way of compliment. "But you had better go down to Professor McGonnagal and see if what you've written is correct as it stands."
"Good idea," Harry said, nodding. He got up, excused himself, and headed out to McGonnagal's office. There, he knocked politely upon her door.
The Transfigurations Professor looked up to spot him at her door. "Yes, Mr. Potter? What may I do for you?" McGonnagal asked, beckoning him to come inside.
"Well...you see, Professor, we've got a homework assignment to write an essay about an ancient wizarding family. I've chosen yours, yous ee. Ahem...and I was wondering what I've written is correct," he said, handing her his work.
She read it quickly through. "Not bad, Potter," McGonnagal said. She then surprised him by chuckling to herself. "Dear cousin Michael," she said looking down at Harry's essay. "That boy was stark raving mad, out of his mind...but still a most likeable fellow. Took it upon himself---if you can believe that---to single-handedly attack the vilest of Dark wizard in our generation. The fool somehow managed---we never learned how, mind---to infiltrate, without the aid of an Invisibility Cloak even, Grindevald's (that was his name, Potter) grounds, and then finally, his manor house. Once inside, Michael stashed that ridiculous---oh, now what was that Muggle thing called again?---oh, yes, a mine in the broomstick closet in Grindevald's library, and then ran like mad away, as it's fuss...no, fuse sputtered and smoked to the ne'er thee well. Amazingly enough though, Mr. Potter...the bloody thing worked! Needless to say, few minutes later, the entire manor house was blown to smithereens!" She shook her head at the memory, then quickly changed the subject. "Ah, I can see you've managed to find our family tree and included that as well. Nice touch, Potter."
"I've memorized it, Professor. I can see it in my head," Harry told her.
"Oh, really?" McGonnagal said, impressed. "Then you won't have any trouble telling me just what my siblings names might be...the eldest first. Then, if you be so good as to tell me just who Mariah's mother might be as well."
"Apollo, Artemis, Ares, and Demeter, Professor," Harry recited confidently. "Oh, and it´s your sister Demeter who's Mariah's Mum," Harry added a moment later.
"You've done your homework, I see, Potter," McGonnagal informed him. "However, you've only scratched the surface, as it were. Do try to see if you can do a bit more, my boy. We can hardly have the McGonnagals remembered by the actions of my mad cousin Michael now can we, Mr. Potter? Read up...and believe you me, when I say that we McGonnagals have done a good many extraordinary things."
"Really, Professor? Would you mean things like back in your third year at Hogwarts, when you infiltrated the boy's dormitory and cast a hex that changed the entire dormitory pink?" Harry asked, grinning, making sure he emphasized the word infiltrate.
McGonnagal grimaced, yet Harry could swear he saw a smirk on her thin lips. "Now, I remember exactly why I do hate those blasted books that continually update themselves," McGonnagal pretended to grumble, but her eyes twinkled. She handed Harry his paper back. "Now, if you don't mind, Potter...I'm a rather busy lady just this moment. Good day."
Harry smiled at her, genuinely fond of the gruff old witch, and headed back to the Gryffindor common room.
When he had finally gone out of sight, Professor McGonnagal chuckled softly to herself. "Family history. What will they have them doing next?"
The following day, the Gryffindors headed down to the dungeons to their dreaded Potions lesson. Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the classroom and saw Malfoy standing against the far wall, with his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, in attendence.
"Why, hello there, Ferretboy," Hermione said sweetly, yet sarcastically, as she passed by him. Malfoy scowled furiously at her, his blue eyes indignant, but surprisingly enough to Crabbe and Goyle, at least, that's all he did.
Professor Snape then entered his classroom with a swish of black flowing robes, and headed to the front of the class. He withdrew his wand, and made a movement of his wrist, pointing it at the blackboard without saying a single word. He then withdrew into the shadows, as if he he suddenly abhorred the light (not that there was much of it around down in the dungeons). When the bell rang to begin the period, he told the class to write an essay about the potion they had made just last class. Harry frowned in confusion.
"Is it just me, Harry...or is Snape acting strange? Er, well, stranger than usual, I mean, today?" Ron remarked quietly, as they headed back up to the common room after the lesson's end. Harry looked back at Ron, and shrugged. Ron scowled, shook his head, and took a seat. They all then sat down, and began to studiously do their homework.
After a while, homework nearly complete, Harry stood up, stretched, and smiled. "Right then, Gryfffindors...Birthday planning!" he called out. There was a buzz of excited conversation as everyone made a beeline over to surround him, Ron, and Hermione. "So, mates...any ideas?" Harry asked to all and sundry.
Dean smiled and pulled a sheaf of sketches he'd made to show how he imagined the common room should be decorated. A slim seventh year fellow Harry had never really ever talked with before, a Patrick McCaine, then offered, "It'd probably be a good idea to make sure we all don´t buy Professor McGonnagal the same thing. Don't you think?"
"He's got himself a point, Harry," Ron told him, to which Hermione could only nod.
"Right then, Patrick, is it?" Harry began. The boy nodded eagerly. "I'll leave that to you. Coordinate with everyone buying presents and make sure there's no duplicates."
"Right, Harry," Patrick replied, smiling. "Everyone on the Gifts Committee to me!"
Meanwhile, the first and second years were asking some of their older classmates to buy something for McGonnagal from them. They for some reason descended upon Ron, who at first blushed redly, but then relented. "All right, you lot," Ron told them, waving his hands to shut them up. "We'll find you something. Just you keep in mind one thing: Me, Harry here, and Hermione, have already put in an order to buy her a stuffed lion, one who'll walk about, all on its own like. So, other than that, what'd you midgets have in mind, eh?"
"Ron!" hissed Hermione in agitation. "Be nice. They are not midgets!"
"Right," Ron conceded with a grin. "Well, all of you, er, lot...what have you in mind?"
Everyone, with Patrick overseeing the task, began writing down just what they planned to buy their Head of House. Finally, at long last, the final list was compiled, double-checked, and placed in Patrick McCaine, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson's capable hands.
"Right then. That's done," Harry said in satisfaction. The meeting of for day is finally, blissfully over.
(Author's Note: I know that Lion is from another fanfic I've read---I just don´t recall which one it was! So, please, if the author of that particular story is reading this and recognizes that bit of their work, PLEASE don´t sue, berate, or otherwise harm me in any shape or fashion!).
The Ancient Wizarding Family McGonnagal
Harry looked on what he had just written. "Listen to this, you two," he requested to his friends and then began reading aloud.
"The McGonnagal family is an ancient Scottish Wizarding Family. They are by many considered one of the wisest families in all of Britian, where every fifth witch or wizard of this family having become respected Animagus. The most famous feat of bravery and valor of any McGonnagal would be that of one Michael McGonnagal, who personally defeated hundreds of the Dark Wizard Grindelvalt´s minions by means of secreting a large mine (a most powerful Muggle invention, that causes an explosion of catastrophic proportions) in Grindlevalt's manor home."
"Nicely done, Harry," Hermione said by way of compliment. "But you had better go down to Professor McGonnagal and see if what you've written is correct as it stands."
"Good idea," Harry said, nodding. He got up, excused himself, and headed out to McGonnagal's office. There, he knocked politely upon her door.
The Transfigurations Professor looked up to spot him at her door. "Yes, Mr. Potter? What may I do for you?" McGonnagal asked, beckoning him to come inside.
"Well...you see, Professor, we've got a homework assignment to write an essay about an ancient wizarding family. I've chosen yours, yous ee. Ahem...and I was wondering what I've written is correct," he said, handing her his work.
She read it quickly through. "Not bad, Potter," McGonnagal said. She then surprised him by chuckling to herself. "Dear cousin Michael," she said looking down at Harry's essay. "That boy was stark raving mad, out of his mind...but still a most likeable fellow. Took it upon himself---if you can believe that---to single-handedly attack the vilest of Dark wizard in our generation. The fool somehow managed---we never learned how, mind---to infiltrate, without the aid of an Invisibility Cloak even, Grindevald's (that was his name, Potter) grounds, and then finally, his manor house. Once inside, Michael stashed that ridiculous---oh, now what was that Muggle thing called again?---oh, yes, a mine in the broomstick closet in Grindevald's library, and then ran like mad away, as it's fuss...no, fuse sputtered and smoked to the ne'er thee well. Amazingly enough though, Mr. Potter...the bloody thing worked! Needless to say, few minutes later, the entire manor house was blown to smithereens!" She shook her head at the memory, then quickly changed the subject. "Ah, I can see you've managed to find our family tree and included that as well. Nice touch, Potter."
"I've memorized it, Professor. I can see it in my head," Harry told her.
"Oh, really?" McGonnagal said, impressed. "Then you won't have any trouble telling me just what my siblings names might be...the eldest first. Then, if you be so good as to tell me just who Mariah's mother might be as well."
"Apollo, Artemis, Ares, and Demeter, Professor," Harry recited confidently. "Oh, and it´s your sister Demeter who's Mariah's Mum," Harry added a moment later.
"You've done your homework, I see, Potter," McGonnagal informed him. "However, you've only scratched the surface, as it were. Do try to see if you can do a bit more, my boy. We can hardly have the McGonnagals remembered by the actions of my mad cousin Michael now can we, Mr. Potter? Read up...and believe you me, when I say that we McGonnagals have done a good many extraordinary things."
"Really, Professor? Would you mean things like back in your third year at Hogwarts, when you infiltrated the boy's dormitory and cast a hex that changed the entire dormitory pink?" Harry asked, grinning, making sure he emphasized the word infiltrate.
McGonnagal grimaced, yet Harry could swear he saw a smirk on her thin lips. "Now, I remember exactly why I do hate those blasted books that continually update themselves," McGonnagal pretended to grumble, but her eyes twinkled. She handed Harry his paper back. "Now, if you don't mind, Potter...I'm a rather busy lady just this moment. Good day."
Harry smiled at her, genuinely fond of the gruff old witch, and headed back to the Gryffindor common room.
When he had finally gone out of sight, Professor McGonnagal chuckled softly to herself. "Family history. What will they have them doing next?"
The following day, the Gryffindors headed down to the dungeons to their dreaded Potions lesson. Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the classroom and saw Malfoy standing against the far wall, with his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, in attendence.
"Why, hello there, Ferretboy," Hermione said sweetly, yet sarcastically, as she passed by him. Malfoy scowled furiously at her, his blue eyes indignant, but surprisingly enough to Crabbe and Goyle, at least, that's all he did.
Professor Snape then entered his classroom with a swish of black flowing robes, and headed to the front of the class. He withdrew his wand, and made a movement of his wrist, pointing it at the blackboard without saying a single word. He then withdrew into the shadows, as if he he suddenly abhorred the light (not that there was much of it around down in the dungeons). When the bell rang to begin the period, he told the class to write an essay about the potion they had made just last class. Harry frowned in confusion.
"Is it just me, Harry...or is Snape acting strange? Er, well, stranger than usual, I mean, today?" Ron remarked quietly, as they headed back up to the common room after the lesson's end. Harry looked back at Ron, and shrugged. Ron scowled, shook his head, and took a seat. They all then sat down, and began to studiously do their homework.
After a while, homework nearly complete, Harry stood up, stretched, and smiled. "Right then, Gryfffindors...Birthday planning!" he called out. There was a buzz of excited conversation as everyone made a beeline over to surround him, Ron, and Hermione. "So, mates...any ideas?" Harry asked to all and sundry.
Dean smiled and pulled a sheaf of sketches he'd made to show how he imagined the common room should be decorated. A slim seventh year fellow Harry had never really ever talked with before, a Patrick McCaine, then offered, "It'd probably be a good idea to make sure we all don´t buy Professor McGonnagal the same thing. Don't you think?"
"He's got himself a point, Harry," Ron told him, to which Hermione could only nod.
"Right then, Patrick, is it?" Harry began. The boy nodded eagerly. "I'll leave that to you. Coordinate with everyone buying presents and make sure there's no duplicates."
"Right, Harry," Patrick replied, smiling. "Everyone on the Gifts Committee to me!"
Meanwhile, the first and second years were asking some of their older classmates to buy something for McGonnagal from them. They for some reason descended upon Ron, who at first blushed redly, but then relented. "All right, you lot," Ron told them, waving his hands to shut them up. "We'll find you something. Just you keep in mind one thing: Me, Harry here, and Hermione, have already put in an order to buy her a stuffed lion, one who'll walk about, all on its own like. So, other than that, what'd you midgets have in mind, eh?"
"Ron!" hissed Hermione in agitation. "Be nice. They are not midgets!"
"Right," Ron conceded with a grin. "Well, all of you, er, lot...what have you in mind?"
Everyone, with Patrick overseeing the task, began writing down just what they planned to buy their Head of House. Finally, at long last, the final list was compiled, double-checked, and placed in Patrick McCaine, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson's capable hands.
"Right then. That's done," Harry said in satisfaction. The meeting of for day is finally, blissfully over.
(Author's Note: I know that Lion is from another fanfic I've read---I just don´t recall which one it was! So, please, if the author of that particular story is reading this and recognizes that bit of their work, PLEASE don´t sue, berate, or otherwise harm me in any shape or fashion!).