(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.