Title: Between You And I
Summary: Minerva McGonagall is certain she knows Sirius Black to the T, but during his careers appointment Minerva discovers facets of his personality that she forgot, and a dedication she was unaware of. As she realizes just how little she knows the enigma that is the Black heir, she remembers why she shouldn't assume. A Sirius/Minerva mentor fic – I do so love them!
Word Count: 850
Sirius Black strolled into the office and sat. Minerva McGonagall shuffled her papers and set them down.
"Now, I believe we both know why you are here. So what is it? Professional Quiddich? Opening a joke shop?"
"Werewolf and other sentient magical creature rights." McGonagall blinked. Then sighed, softened and pushed her papers away from her.
"I commend you on your choice, but I do not think that you have the necessary patience, subtlety, or understanding or… tolerance of social niceties and political games that would be required to make an impression or, well, change anything."
"I have to do something. And it's not just werewolves. I'm sure vampires and hags and goblins and other sentient creatures have it just as bad, and it's not fair. I mean, there's this huge push for muggle-borns and half-bloods, and gays, and even in the Muggle world female and gay rights are having a huge push, so what about all of the other people who deserve to live a life just as good as wizards and witches? You know it's illegal for werewolves to further their education, or even for someone to help them. If someone gets bitten as a child they can't even go to a Muggle school without breaking the law, and anyone who assists them knowingly goes on trial! But then the Wizengott will rule that the werewolf somehow forced the witch or wizard into helping them, and they would get in more trouble! It's absolute bollocks, and I have to do something!"
McGonagall sighed again. "I understand that this must be… difficult for you, but in order to change anything, or even make a difference, you need to have a certain level of respect. I believe that working in a lower level ministry job will not do a thing to help, for years at the least, and quite possibly never. You do not have that level of patience. It takes longer then a generation for such a high and ingrained prejudice to be overcome."
"Well what do you suggest then?" The boy was actually earnest; leaning forward, resting his elbows on the professor's desk, imploring eyes. He wanted to make a difference, and he wanted it to happen soon. McGonagall sighed again. She could not believe she was about to do this.
"Perhaps the best thing for you to do would be to become famous and respected, then try to influence people by, well, showing what you believe is right. This means that I am going to suggest you use your natural charisma and… talents… to become that person." Her nose wrinkled up on the word 'talents' and Sirius leaned forward, a demonic smile twitching on his lips.
"So what are you meaning by that, Professor?" She glared at him. He simply looked more innocent.
"I am fully aware that mr. Potter is trying to convince you to run a joke shop with him, and to try out for various Quiddich teams as a duo. I am… suggesting that this would be the best way for you to take up your cause." The boy grinned, and at that moment she knew that she would have more trouble with the four 'Marauders' then she ever had before. The smile suddenly slid off his face.
"But… that doesn't change anything now. And nothing much will change in our lifetime, and…"
"Were you really expecting it to?" She peered at him, a empathetic smile tugging at her lip.
"I understand. Make him comfortable, but… don't smother him. Let him live his own life." The boy tensed, and looked like he was trying not to flee.
"I… don't know what you're talking about Professor. Who…"
"Mr. Black. Do not play coy with me, I know full well you know and have known for years." She took pity on him and softened. "He's become so much happier because of Mr. Potter, Mr. Pettigrew and yourself. Happier then his parents have ever seen him, and happier even then when he first arrived at this school. I thank you for that. He needs a childhood, and you have given him that."
"Sooo… if what we do is considered giving him a childhood, does that mean that to give him even more of one, we should do… more?" She glared.
"Absolutely not mr. Black." The professor started gathering her papers again. "Now, unless there is something else you wanted to discuss, I believe this meeting is over."
His chair scraped back instantly.
"Of course Professor. See you Monday!" When the door swung shut behind him, Professor Minerva McGonagall slowed her paper shuffling thoughtfully. For all the brash, often harsh and inconsiderate exterior, here was a young man more then prepared to give his life up for the happiness of his friend. Of course he'd said that it was for all sentient magical beings, but it was rather obvious whom he meant. She smiled and closed her desk drawer with a snap. It seems the heir to the Black family has more to him then meets the eye. Much, much more.
Remus is a lucky boy.