Minerva McGonagall straightened her notes for the lesson on her desk as she stood, stern and imposing, waiting for her first class of the new school year to begin. It was Gryffindor Sixth Years, this class had always been one of her favourites, containing as it did, the prodigy that was Hermione Granger and the constant surprise that was Harry Potter. Though he may not have had Hermione's gift for perfect recall or speed at mastering spells, Harry was both powerful and resourceful; deploying spells successfully in inventive ways under great pressure, as testified by his very survival.
There was another student to take note of this year, Aries Black. To say Minerva was shocked on first learning of the boy would be an understatement but upon hearing more of his situation she had decided that it should not have been such a surprise. After all, Sirius had been prepared to be a decoy for the Potters' real secret keeper, to be captured, tortured and killed for information he did not actually possess, for the sake of the man he considered a brother, so to what lengths would he go in order to protect his own wife and son?
It comforted her somewhat that though he had lost twelve years of his life to the living hell that was Azkaban, he had at least had a short time of peace with his family. Minerva didn't understand why, after the Order had been recalled, Sirius had persisted in concealing them but perhaps isolation and protection had become an ingrained habit which, considering Pettigrew's betrayal, may even have been wise.
The news of Sirius' death had hit her hard; the Marauders had always been her favourite students and she had fondly considered him almost like an unruly but charming nephew. Aries' situation had only compounded her distress. She had heard of him the day after the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries, when Alastor Moody reported in to Dumbledore, but it was days before she heard the whole story from a grief stricken Remus Lupin.
Remus had appeared at the door to her quarters one night and promptly collapsed in an armchair before breaking down completely. It had taken two whiskies to get him to start talking and even then it took a lot of coaxing to draw the full story out of him. By the time he was finished with his tale, the plight of the broken man before her and the orphaned boy now relying solely upon him had awakened maternal instincts within her which had lain dormant for most of her life.
So it was with no little anxiety that she waited for the first lesson of the day.
When the bell rang and the students filed into the Transfiguration classroom it was as if, for a split second, Minerva was transported back twenty years, watching another pair of black haired Gryffindors- one with messy hair and glasses, the other with aristocratic features and stormy grey eyes- as they entered the room. Then the boys looked up and the moment passed, for neither James nor Sirius had ever had eyes with that haunted expression in them; a poorly disguised well of pain and grief that threatened to draw you in and drown you, the knowledge that life wasn't fair, it was full of pain and suffering, and the conviction that everyone who loved them would die. Though one pair of eyes were a chilling avada kedavra green and the others an icy grey they were identical in the pain of loss that echoed deep within them, simmering just below the surface, threatening to overwhelm them at any second, and the rage at the unfairness of it all, which would eventually break free, undoubtedly with spectacular results.
Harry settled at his usual desk and gestured at Aries to sit next to him. The younger boy slipped into the chair, pulling his books, parchment and quill from the bag, oblivious to the glare being aimed at the back of his head as Ron Weasley settled into the row behind, next to Hermione. Minerva watched their interactions with interest, she had suspected that Harry and Aries might get along well, though she did not know the latter well, as neither of Harry's other friends understood his loss. Ron and Hermione had liked Sirius but not loved him as Harry or Aries had, and neither had experienced the loss of a parent figure, unlike the two orphaned boys who were the only sons of the had hoped Ron would accept Aries but the jealousy was hardly surprising, after all, he had been prone to fits of jealousy before, she could only hope it would blow over. Both boys needed all the friends they could get over the coming months if they were going to heal.
Minerva looked around the room once more to ascertain that all the students were settled, then launched into her opening speech on the importance of NEWTs and working hard throughout both sixth and seventh years as it would permanently affect their future. That done, she started on the advanced theory that would be required for the day's lesson. Then, half way through the double period she demonstrated the wand movement and incantation used for the conjuring of birds and set the class to practising.
She strolled around the classroom, watching the students work, correcting pronunciation and wand movements as needed but always keeping an eye on the quartet. It was no surprise to her when only fifteen minutes into the practise, Hermione Granger managed to conjure a few small birds which fluttered round her head for several minutes before disappearing. What did surprise her however, was when she had circled the classroom once and stopped beside Aries and Harry's desk and saw the Black scion's work.
He had conjured, not three or four simple, identical, birds as Hermione had, but nearly a dozen different types of hummingbirds. They darted and hovered around his head, flashes of iridescent blue, green and purple, even a few red or gold. Aries smiled calmly up at her and twirled his wand at the birds who began interweaving in an intricate aerial ballet. She smiled, proud of the newest of her Cubs, and awarded Gryffindor ten points.
Clearly, the boy had inherited his father's talent for Transfiguration. She wondered, absently, where he had got the idea for the Hummingbirds from, it was easiest to conjure something you were already familiar with. Then she remembered, Lupin had mentioned the Black family had travelled for a few months, after Sirius had escaped on the Hippogriff, he hadn't said where but clearly it had included parts of South America. Come to think of it, she vaguely remembered a few exotic looking birds delivering Harry letters at the start of his fourth year.
Harry was staring in amazement at the new boy but soon turned back to his own work, which he continued with renewed determination. A few minutes later two small robins swooped down and nestled in his hair. He sat very still, careful not to dislodge them, as the rest of the class chucked.
"Didn't I always say your hair looked like a bird's nest, mate?" hollered Dean Thomas from his seat on the other side of the classroom. Beside him, Seamus Finnigan had collapsed onto his desk in a fit of uncontrollable giggles.
Minerva turned to face them, raising one thin eyebrow "Mister Thomas, Mister Finnigan, as I have yet to see you two conjure so much as a feather, I ask you to contain your mirth and get back to work" she reprimanded them. The two boys turned back to their own work and she faced Harry "Good work Mister Potter, next time, try and concentrate on conjuring more than two" then she spun on her heel and marched over to inspect the work of Lavender Brown.
Ron, the only one of the quartet who had yet to succeed scowled, looking enviously at Hermione's blackbirds, Harry's robins and Aries' hummingbirds. His brow furrowed in concentration but this time, after carefully watching Hermione, he managed it and a pair of wrens flittered around the classroom, before disappearing a couple of minutes later, just as Harry's robins faded. A grin split his freckled face and he basked in Hermione's praise, pointedly ignoring the exotic birds still dancing around the new boy.
The bell rang a quarter of an hour later, startling them all as they had been directing their conjured birds, using their wands, in races around the classroom in order to "perfect their control" as Harry had explained, guilelessly, when McGonagall had scolded them. The Gryffindors scribbled down their homework assignment and scrambled eagerly into the corridor, glad for the break.