Menace
Minerva McGonagall was not one for birthday parties - at least, not those of one-year-old boys. She supposed however, staring down at the invitation in her hand, that she should make an exception for the son of the man who had once saved all of wizard-kind from destruction. He had been in Gryffindor after all.
-o-
"James Sirius Potter," McGonagall scoffed, more to herself than to Professor Flitwick sitting beside her in the Potters' living room. "Could you imagine a worse name for a child? He'll be a monster. I thought the Weasley twins were bad." She said all of this very softly so no one other than Flitwick was likely to hear her. The Charms teacher chuckled.
"Yes, it shows quite the lack of judgement on the parents' part," he agreed, still smiling in utter amusement. "You'd think they'd have saved at least one of them for the second child," he added.
"Oh Merlin, that would be just what we'd need, Filius. Two troublesome Potters? No, thank you. We'll just let all of the horror be rolled into one boy. Any other children they have can be the good ones," McGonagall said vehemently, shaking her head slightly. Flitwick only laughed again and sincerely hoped none of the other guests were listening.
McGonagall watched as the one-year-old in question suddenly streaked by on his new toy broom - courtesy of Ginny's former teammates from the Holyhead Harpies of course - and crashed head-on into the wall opposite her and Flitwick. She barely concealed a smile as the child toppled to the floor.
James shook his head and glanced around furtively as though to see if his parents had seen - they hadn't - or if anyone else had noticed his mishap, which would warrant causing a fuss and drawing attention himself. His eyes fell on McGonagall, the only one watching, and the corners of his mouth tugged downward. McGonagall frowned fiercely at him, not at all in the mood to hear him start wailing, and the quivering of his lip stopped instantly, his eyes wide.
It wasn't that she disliked children - obviously she didn't, or she wouldn't have become a teacher - but she could plainly see that the boy was unhurt. He seemed to decide he wasn't going to find any sympathy from her, so he picked himself up and managed to wrestle himself back onto his toy. With one last cautious glance in the direction of his future headmistress, he zoomed away again.
"He's going to be a troublemaker," Flitwick sighed. "Best start Potter-proofing the castle now, Minerva."
-o-
"Albus Severus?" McGonagall asked herself, reading the birth announcement in the Prophet - though instead of one little blurb on the second-to-last page, Harry Potter's second born of course got a front page, full-length article. 'BOY-WHO-LIVED HAS SECOND CHILD - BABY BOY.' She had no idea there was so much to write about a twelve-hour-old baby boy.
"Albus Severus," she muttered again. "Honestly, could that boy come up with more ridiculous names?" What kind of inferiority complex is he trying to give his children?" She imagined the lives of James Sirius and Albus Severus, always striving to live up to names of men who had made an irreversible impact on their father's life. She shook her head.
-o-
"I can't believe we're doing this again," McGonagall sighed, sitting once more next to Flitwick. This time the party was outside, a beautiful May day making the house too claustrophobic for the crowd that had gathered to celebrate Albus Severus Potter's first birthday.
"What's the fuss, anyway?" she grumbled. "The boy won't even remember all of these people who came to see him turn one year old."
"Don't be such a spoilsport, Minerva," Flitwick chided.
The pair watched as James - now two and a half and definitely acting the part - ran across the lawn, weaving between people's legs with a grin on his face that made McGonagall entirely uneasy. She kept a close watch on him as he approached the table heaped with gifts for Albus. The table also happened to hold an enormous two-tier cake and a rather large bowl of punch.
As he reached on grubby fist toward the red table cloth, McGonagall and Flitwick glanced at each other nervously.
"He's not going to-"
"He wouldn't possibly-"
"Harry should really be keeping a better watch-"
"He's going to-!"
Minerva stood up, but it was too late. With a very decisive yank on the long tablecloth, the punch bowl toppled over, spilling its contents into the grass, several presents fell off the pile in a crumpled heap and the huge cake went sliding right off the side of the table, landing on top of James with a loud splat!
James stood there looking thoroughly shocked at suddenly being covered in sugary goo. He scraped a bit of frosting off his face and licked his fingers. A grin stretched across his face impishly.
"James Sirius Potter!" Ginny shrieked, descending on the scene instantly. She grabbed him by the arm and hoisted him out of the mound of cake, her face furious.
McGonagall thought the two-year-old did a marvelous job at keeping from giggling uncontrollably while his mother screamed at him. He didn't look the least bit upset, but he did have the decency to stare at her solemnly through the entire lecture. Beside her, Flitwick was struggling to control his laughter. McGonagall rolled her eyes, unable to keep the small smile from tugging the corners of her mouth upward.
The stunned party-goers slowly went back to their business of chatting, pointing to the birthday boy and cooing, lounging about in the Potters' expansive, shaded back yard and generally trying to ignore the sudden absence of cake and punch.
Beside McGonagall, Flitwick chuckled as Harry arrived, took in his wife and cake-covered son, rolled his eyes heavenward and walked away again. He returned a moment later with a large bucket of water and promptly dumped it over his son's head.
James Sirius Potter just giggled.
-o-
She was seriously considering not sending it.
Professor Wickham, the new deputy headmaster - Flitwick had very firmly rejected the position at least four times before McGongall had offered it to the now-permanent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and Head of Slytherin; he had joined the staff very quickly after the war and just making it past one year was enough reason for McGonagall to want him in a position of authority - had finished the latest batch of Hogwarts letters. And looking at the one on the top of the stack and seeing the name printed there, she was thoroughly tempted to burn it.
James Sirius Potter didn't really want to come to Hogwarts anyway, right?
She knew she was being hasty and unfair. The boy couldn't be that bad, right? He was just one boy. He didn't even have a twin. Just because he was named after two of the biggest pains in McGongall's living memory didn't mean he would be so awful. Right?
Oh, who was she kidding? The boy was a menace. She had dutifully attended the Potters' Christmas party last year and had nearly been knocked over twice by the troublesome eleven-year-old.
McGonagall heaved a sigh and rubbed at the throbbing vein in her temple. It was going to be a long seven years.
-o-
As the first years filed into the Great Hall, McGonagall took her yearly pleasure in examining their expressions and silently betting on which ones would end up where.
The dark-haired girl with the utterly terrified expression would probably be a Hufflepuff. The chubby boy with glasses and his hair parted perfectly down the center of his head would go to Ravenclaw. That one...Slytherin, no doubt. The one over there...Hufflepuff. That boy there with the overlong blonde hair...toss up between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.
Her gaze fell inevitably on James Sirius Potter. She dearly wanted to smack her head on the table.
The boy was looking up at the ceiling with his mouth hanging wide open. Beside him, a boy with shaggy dark hair said something to him and they both laughed, grinning like maniacs. While their future classmates looked around silently or spoke in whispers, the boys' voices carried halfway across the hall. McGonagall couldn't make out what they were saying, but the smirks on their faces said it all.
Gryffindors. There was no other option.
She watched in horror as the eleven-year-old future bane of her existence reached up and ran a hand through his already messy hair.
A/N: An update! Hooray! If you're clever, you will eventually realize that one of the children Minerva observed at the Sorting is a very important future character. (Don't go looking for it now for Merlin's sake; you'll get nowhere. A future chapter will hold the key though, I promise.)
So I completely randomly decided that James's birthday is in November and Albus's is in May. I then decided, before I posted this, that I should check to see what their astrological (zodiac) signs meant for their personalities (because whether we like it or not, those personality descriptions are freaky close to dead-on). I was very pleasantly surprised to find that my Albus is a perfect Taurus and James is exactly a Scorpio. It's like my brain knows these kinds of things subconsciously and just shoves me in the right direction. Let's see if I can get three-for-three whenever I decide on Lily's birthday.
And if you're curious, look up the personality traits for Aries (the zodiac sign for James Potter - the elder one) and Aquarius (Lily Evans). So dead-on it's creepy.
Speaking of subconscious shoves and James Potter...Cool story time. At one point, prior to the release of DH, I was attempting to make a very complicated timeline for a story I have since abandoned, and I randomly gave Lily and James Potter (the original ones, not their grandchildren) birthdays. Lily's was completely off - I had her in April or May... But I decided, 'James seems like a March kinda guy' (and not just because my birthday is in March, I swear...) and gave him the completely randomly Megan's-brain-generated birthday of March 27.
Imagine my shock (and delight - I'm definitely psychic) when Deathly Hallows came out and I read the chapter 'Godric's Hollow.' That's right, I predicted the birthday of James Potter. I. Am. Awesome. (Or just a really good guesser. You know.)
Yeah. So this chapter has been stewing away in my head for awhile now. I know I said we'd see more of James's friends, but I can't control what sort of scenes decide to form themselves in my brain while I'm at my job washing dishes and making pizza, you know?
I won't guarantee an update any time soon because now that school has started again, I have - ugh - real responsibilities. I do have a 3-day weekend coming up though, so if I don't get to go the best-friend date with my (duh) best friend like I'm hoping to, I'll see what I can do. No promises though.
Thanks for reading. Please review!
-Megan :)