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That Evening, Deputy Headmistress's Office
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"...Professor McGonagall."
Minerva McGonagall looked up from her desk and saw the man who had just visited her office.
"Come in and have a seat, Professor Peverell. You can call me Minerva."
"...Yes. Minerva. Please call me by my name as well."
Minerva studied the young professor in front of her. So this was the young man who had slipped through Albus' fingers while he tried to make him her deputy?
It was petty sulkiness on her part that she didn't offer him a couch, bidding him sit across from her desk like a student.
And the young professor was not at all offended by the slight, burying himself comfortably in the student chair as if he were very much used to it.
He seemed to be of one of two cases : a rather oblivious, unassuming young man, or a politician with perfect facial control.
And the next words from the young man tilted Minerva's opinion rapidly toward the former.
"Minerva. I'm here to speak to you about Mr. James Potter, a fifth year Gryffindor. What's your opinion of him?"
Henry Peverell gazed at the Deputy Mistress, green eyes questioningly, whose face froze and blinked for a moment.
"Uh, um... Henry. We've never met one-on-one before in person... of course I'm not one of those old Wizengamot fossils who insists on starting off with a small talk, but..."
"...Oh... oh!"
Henry flustered greatly, as if suddenly realizing his actions.
"Pardon me, Professor. It was very presumptuous of me to come in unannounced and start a conversation with such a question. Uh, in my defense, I don't feel like this is the first time I've met you... like I've always known you from... I mean, I'd like to be friendly with you very much... No, no, no, I don't mean that in a weird way! I mean... even though you do look much younger than my expe... No, no, that is not at all what I mean to say...! Eh..."
Absolutely ZERO point for a politician. Minerva shook her head inwardly.
Albus seems to have lost his touch these days.
A few weeks ago, after his interview with the young man, Albus had come in with a serious look on his face, and blabbered on and on about how this new professor wasn't quite all he seemed, that the young man must be hiding something, that his demeanor was on par with an old pureblood politician, and that he needed to be watched carefully.
Caught in the old man's seriousness, as well as being feverishly busy at that time, "...Well, so, Minerva, it was decided that the new professor be given to Slytherin this time. Don't take it personally, but next time, I'll be sure to send you a new Gryffindor Deputy when a dupe... I mean, a bright new professor rolls in," she hadn't quite gotten around to give the bullshit he'd spouted a proper response.
"...So... I've made a massive blunder... Uh... Professor, why are your hands...?" Harry asked with trepidation.
Minerva smiled a smile that resembled a Cheshire cat, waved her hand and pointed to the guest couch.
"Go over to the couch and sit down, Henry. Don't mind this. I've just realized I got a crook to punish tomorrow."
The hand... no, she was pulling claws from her (partially transformed) furry front paw and sharpening them. As she did so, Minerva sprang to her feet and joined Peverell on the couch.
"...So, you're asking for my opinion on one of our Gryffindor students, Henry?"
"Yes, Minerva."
"Hmm... does that have anything to do with the incident at the end of dinner tonight, when Mr. Potter came to you, Henry, looking like he was going to drown in his plate, and retrieved his wand from you?"
"Yes."
"And all the fifth years were looking at you in a very freaked... Well, in a very respectful way."
Peverell chewed on his lip for a moment.
"If you feel that confiscating a student's wand for a certain amount of time is excessive punishment..."
"No, of course not! It was a brilliant thing to do, Henry. A boy at that age needs to have his head screwed on straight from day one, ah, why didn't I think of that before."
The young man's grim expression did not lift at the senior professor's praise.
"I'd like to hear your honest opinion, Minerva. About James Potter, what kind of student he is. I've heard that you are one of the strictest on Mr. Potter. However... I got the impression that you don't dislike him."
McGonagall's expression sobered.
"You have a sharp eye, young man."
"..."
She sighed.
"Henry. Which do you think spoils a child more, parents being excessively strict, or being overly coddling?"
"...I suppose it depends on the case."
She nodded.
"Yes. Well, it mainly depends on the child, to be exact. In my experience, the same discipline can be received very differently depending on the child's natural temperament and personality. But in general, I've found that for most children, moderation is more likely to produce better results than severe punishments."
"Yeah..."
"However... James Potter, he'd probably have been better off with a strict discipline, rather than the pampering and a pat on the back, from an early age. He's not the sort of person who would be scarred by a stern discipline, and it would have reduced his outward aggression and impulsiveness."
Henry let out a low hiss. It was a sound filled with a strange emotion she couldn't quite put her finger on.
Minerva gave the young professor a sharp look. Her assessing voice was measured and cold.
"James Potter. Open-minded, but narrow-sighted due to his coddled upbringing and lack of experience of the world. Below-average self-control. Generous with those within the narrow circle that surrounds him, but very little insight or empathy beyond the boundaries of his own experience. Highly impulsive and self-centered, which manifests itself in an easy aggression toward those outside the boundary."
Henry lowered his gaze. An inaudible groan escaped the young professor's lips.
Minerva let out a short sigh. The young man in front of her may have been a professor for only two days, but somehow she felt like she was having a parent-teacher conference. To be honest, what she was about to say was something she'd wanted to say to Lord and Lady Fleamont Potter for a long time.
"He's not of a sensitive or conservative personality, rather he's very bold and intelligent. I'm sure he could be much better with strict and careful discipline and broader experience. And I wish that even now his parents would come to their senses and educate him rigorously and expose him to the world more; but James is almost of age and Lord and Lady Potter are very old, so that's not likely to happen. Thus in the end, it's a combination of his temperament and his parents' upbringing that makes him the James Potter he is."
Even with the same pampering from his parents, if James had naturally been of a cautious temperament and sensitive to the feelings of others, the outcome might have been better. But what can one do about it now? A child can't choose his temperament, or his parents.
"...It is possible, however, that James will mature when he is older, when he is forced to experience the world more broadly, and when he has someone he'd have to give love rather than receive it."
Henry blinked. Someone he has to give love rather than receive it? Minerva smirked.
"His children, of course. It's like the age-old cliché, Henry, that you grow up when you get married and have kids."
"...A cliché..."
"It a cliché because it's likely: with wealth and prestige in his family and a good-looking face, he'll probably be able to get the girl he wants, and if she's of a nice, average temperament, he'll likely enjoy a happy marriage, have children to shower love on and live well."
"That is..."
Minerva chuckled at the young professor, who looked a little dazed.
"You don't have to worry too much about James Potter himself, Henry. Most of the students that we teachers worry about like, 'Oh, what on earth is he going to be after he graduates,' eventually grow up, mature, and do just fine as a member of society."
Henry's expression showed no sign of improving.
"So, Henry, the one we need to worry about right now are the victims of the bullying he's been doing. James himself is well socialized and has a lot of money and power in the family to cover his arse, so he'll be a fine adult when he's older, but right now he's a worst bully."
Henry's face twisted further, and he was now pale all over. Minerva hesitantly reached out and patted the young man on the shoulder.
"Henry. I'm complimenting you. I've never seen Potter so glum as he was today. And he needs to be brought down a notch or three. Don't you worry that your discipline has gone too far."
"No... it's very personal, it's just..."
Henry shook his head vigorously. After a moment, he made a forced, yet mischievous grin.
"Professor. Just for fun, think of a situation. I'd appreciate if you could give me an honest answer : if you could go back fifteen years and be given the chance to choose the parents of baby James, which would you choose for him? A parent who is rich and powerful, and would pamper him as an only child, or one who is of middle-class, not at all prestigious, and have another child close to his age with whom James would have to share the care and attention?"
"Probably the latter, for his own good." Her words came out without hesitation, and Henry sighed deeply.
"Thank you, Minerva."
"You have no reason to thank me."
"You just answered one of the deepest questions of my life, and I feel like a knot has been untied forever." Peverell smiled. "And I must say, Professor, you are a most remarkable and courageous woman I know."
"Why, you-" Minerva let out a feline smile, her eyes and lips curved like a Cheshire cat. She changed her mind a little. Maybe the young man in front of her had some of the qualities of a politician after all.
"Flattering your senior so pleasantly, really, there's... very much use in it, of course. Now that I think about it, you seem like a very mannerable young man, Henry."
Professor McGonagall flicked her wand lightly. On the parlor table, the finest tea and snacks from the Deputy Headmistress's stash were summoned, as well as a bottle of good Scotch whisky.
"Well, since you're here for counseling, why don't we have a real talk and gossip? Tell me every rascal and prankster that troubles you, and I can give you advices how to deal with them."
And so began a full-on late-night tea (20% alc.) session. Henry was incredibly relaxed for a young man who had never met her before. He giggled at Minerva's jokes, snickered and nodded with her as she chewed out her boss, the old codger. Later, over tea (40% alc.), he got a little tipsy and proposed a very tempting pastime-business.
'Minerva. How about this : we record our fifteen-year-old students' school life on a magic ball, and then... well, after about 20 years, we can show their children the recording of their parent's oh-so-great school days!'
'...Henry, to suggest such a heinous crime- I knew it! You're actually a foreign spy, trying to tear down the British wizarding society from the very foundation!'
'So?'
'We should do it at once!'
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(Note)
...Well, I've heard that kids these days actually could see some recordings of their parents' teenage life, looking up their old Facebook pages. (SHUDDER)