The Marauders: Year One | #Wattys2016

Theoretically Speaking

Theoretically Speaking

Professor McGonagall was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again the next session. All through the class, Sirius kept nudging James and making eyes at him. When the class was over, James hung back, stuffing his books into his bag as Sirius quickly hurried Remus and Peter out of the room. "Are you coming, Potter?" Lily called from the doorway, hesitating and looking back at James as he procrastinated, adjusting the way his quills were lined up in the pocket for them on his bag.

"Go on, Evans," he said, "I'll catch you lot up."

Lily lingered a moment longer, then took his advice and ducked into the hall.

McGonagall had magicked away the dust from the chalkboard and was putting her own things into the box she had carried into the classroom once more. She squinted over her spectacles at him. "What are you still doing here, Mr. Potter?" she asked crisply.

James and Sirius had talked at length about exactly what to say to McGonagall when the time came for the conversation, so James knew the words. But hesitation was a part of the act he was supposed to give. He tried his very best to look up at her as though he hadn't meant to bother her, as though he weren't even sure he ought to bother her...

"Potter?" McGonagall reached up and removed the reading glasses from her nose, putting them into the box.

"Well - professor, if you don't mind - I actually do have a bit of a question about Transfiguration."

"You do, do you?" McGonagall asked, one eyebrow raised. "Is it to do with your assignment?"

James shook his head, "No... Not exactly." He chewed his lip. "It's just a bit of an interest is all. Sort of a side thing I'm curious about."

She gathered up the box in her arms, "Do you mind talking while we walk back to my office?" she asked, "I'd be happy to speak with you, but I do have another class to teach this afternoon and I'd like to take my tea..." she paused. "Do you take tea, Mr. Potter?"

"I love tea," James said.

"Then perhaps you'll join me." She motioned for the door and James slung his bookbag over his shoulders and followed Professor McGonagall into the corridor and they started walking to the stairwell together. "So what is it that you're curious about?" she asked him.

James took a deep breath, "Well, m'am, I was curious about animagi."

Professor McGonagall looked at him sternly. "Oh?"

"Yes," James said, "Mostly what it's like and how hard it is to become one? I imagine it must be quite challenging."

McGonagall shifted the weight of her box from one arm to the other. "Professor Dumbledore taught me," she replied, "It took several long years, from my Third until my Seventh. Mind you, I did a lot of studying on the theory before actually attempting to do the change," she said, "And I didn't truly apply myself until well into my Sixth Year. I was a bit too --" she paused to find the right word, "-- unruly prior to that."

James thought of the photograph in the Trophy Room passage that Remus had shown them of the young Minerva McGonagall and her mates. Unruly indeed, he thought.

"So, in truth, it took you a year of practice?" James asked.

McGonagall shrugged, "Give or take. For the practical portion, of course, not the theory."

James asked, "How important is the theory of it?"

"As important as any magical theory is," she replied sternly. "It must be learned in order to fully understand the extent and correct use of one's powers. Without the theory behind what it is you can do, you're merely blowing sparks in the wind."