Conference: A Oneshot
(A different scenario where Professor McGonagall gets some insight into Sirius’ parents.)
James and Sirius grumbled and groaned.
"Alright?” James mumbled.
"Fine," Sirius replied, “He’s not.”
The twelve-year-olds glanced at the broken statue. Their broomsticks weren’t looking that great either. On the bright side, they weren’t injured and it had been a terrific race…until the ending.
"What is going on here?”
Both boys innocently smiled as Professor McGonagall marched towards them.
“Hullo, Professor!” James cried, “You’re looking lovely this morning!”
“What were you doing?”
“We decided that we hated walking down seven flights of stairs every morning,” Sirius explained, “We thought that we’d speed things up a bit.”
The Deputy Headmistress was not amused, “Broomsticks are not allowed in the castle! And look what you’ve done to the statue of Herbert the Magnificent!”
“Don’t worry,” James easily said, “We’ll just use ‘reparo’.”
“You will not,” Professor McGonagall remarked, “All of the statues have been equipped with anti-spell charms, to prevent students from messing with them.”
“Well that’s a bit counterproductive, isn’t it?” Sirius laughed.
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and said, “Congratulations, boys, you’ve set your own record.”
“Twelve broken rules in three days,” Professor McGonagall declared, “You give me no other choice. I am contacting your parents for an emergency conference.”
“What?” Sirius gasped.
“Professor, you can’t!” James cried.
Too late. She waved her wand and a silver cat shot out the end of it. It quickly flew away.
James uneasily glanced at Sirius and saw that the blood had drained from his face.
It was a moment before he whispered, “Professor, what…what have you done?”
“Let’s just hope my dad gets here first,” James mumbled.
Professor McGonagall arched her eyebrows and asked, “Why’s that?”
“He’s an Auror,” James explained, “And seeing as how you just let two Death Eaters into the castle…”
“I did not!” Professor McGonagall sighed.
“You might as well have,” Sirius muttered, “Can I borrow thirty galleons?”
“Wha-!?” Professor McGonagall spluttered, “Why!?”
“I hear that’s the cost of an obituary in the Daily Prophet,” Sirius explained, “They’re going to kill me, you see.”
“Only a little bit,” Sirius remarked, “That’s the bad thing.”
By the time they reached Professor McGonagall’s office, James noted that his friend looked utterly miserable.
Unfortunately, Mr. Potter did not arrive first. Green flames leapt up in the fireplace and two powerful-looking people stepped out. They were both clad in beautiful robes and cloaks. Not a single black hair was out of place. Their eyes were cold and immediately pierced Sirius. He refused to meet their gaze. James, on the other hand, boldly glared at them.
“You must be Orion and Walburga,” Professor McGonagall spoke up, “Why don’t you take a seat?”
They gave her a long look before doing so.
“What seems to be the problem?” Orion asked, continuing to coldly gaze at Sirius.
The child shivered glanced up at Professor McGonagall. Tears brimmed his eyes – eyes that were asking, pleading, for her to reconsider.
“Well?” Walburga shrieked.
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and said, “Your son – ”
She paused and glanced back at Sirius before crisply saying, “ – had the audacity to call a student a Mudblood.”
James’ eyes widened. He glanced over at Sirius and saw that his friend looked just as shocked as he was.
“Is that all?” Orion scoffed, “You’re going to punish my son for showing a bit of backbone?”
Professor McGonagall gazed at him for a moment before quietly saying, “Well, I suppose that Sirius and I can come to some sort of arrangement. Thank you for coming.”
“A bloody waste of time,” Walburga exclaimed.
She glanced at Sirius and added, “’Coming home for Christmas?”
She looked satisfied with this answer and followed her husband back across the hearth. For a moment, the three sat in silence, waiting for the green flames to die down.
Then, Sirius abruptly leapt across the desk and hugged Professor McGonagall.
“Thanks, Professor!” Sirius roared, “Honestly…thank you!”
“That was wicked!” James laughed.
“I’m glad you approve,” Professor McGonagall wheezed, “Now, about the statue…”
i just wanted to clarify some things
artists know the risk they are taking when they post their art online. people are inevitably going to take it apart, color edit it, flip it around or otherwise post it uncredited.
saying that an artist shouldn’t post their work if they don’t want it bastardized is probably the stupidest stance on this subject you could take. if all artists followed this line of reasoning, there would be no art on the internet.
when an artist posts their work, they are trusting you to enjoy it respectfully. and when you betray that trust either knowingly or unknowingly, it’s like saying the artist’s time, skills and thoughts aren’t worth anything.
you are NOT entitled to an artists work just because they decided to trust you enough to share it with you.
an artist is within their right to feel upset that someone has used their work in a way they never intended it to be used. they are within their right to ask for it to stop and not happen again.
just because it’s “bound to happen” doesn’t mean it’s any less deplorable.
Simply watching Adventure Time is often enough to make us hungry for sweets, but now we have an actual edible Candy Kingdom to tantalize our tastebuds. This mouthwateringly awesome Gingerbread Candy Kingdom was made by Redditor IHaveAFluffyCat (who actually does have an adorable fluffy cat).
The amount of time, effort, and candy that went into this work of edible art is amazing. It’s beautifully detailed from top to bottom, but we’re particularly impressed by the Gumball Guardians, whose sugar glass heads contain real gumballs.
A Gingerbread Candy Kingdom???
Does it bother anyone else that there are parts of your life you don’t remember? You have done and said things that you don’t even know about anymore. That means you don’t even have the right perception of yourself because you don’t even fully know who you are. However, something that you’ve forgotten about could be a prominent memory in somebody else’s mind. It trips me out.
Lioness Rampant, Tamora Pierce
And I swear, in that moment, we were all Alanna. DOES ANYBODY ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO FLIRT?