Given the potion's lesson had ended, you'd think Transfiguration would immediately follow.
Evidently not.
We, first years, did in fact have free periods. Periods we were supposed to use to prepare ourselves for the second lesson (And any unfinished homework- Or would it be more right to call it dorm-work?) Either way, it wouldn't be at least two more hours before said lesson started.
Which was admittedly curious, given I'd been asked to meet the professor, my head of house, of said class a whole hourearly.
Admittedly the first free hour had been rather tense.
James had a lot of questions. For Snape. About Potions. The boy was hopeless.
"Mr. Black," My cat-footed professorcalled out as she swept into her office, her gaze locking onto mine immediately.
I was already seated. In fact, I'd been seated for the past half hour.
"Now, I'll have no exaggeration from you," The professor remarked evenly as she took her seat before me. "Of the top of your head, what would you say is the reason I've called you in here?"
"A cat show?"
She narrowed her eyes. I promptly straightened up.
"On that regard, would you mind telling me who it was that revealed my animagus nature to you?"
"Is that why I am here?"
"...No, I suppose not. Though I would certainly like to have a word with them,"
"...You can't." I deadpanned, shifting my posture the slightest. My eyes turned, putting the door at my peripheral. At the sight of the woman's raised brow, I decided to clarify my statement. "There's no one really, well, it was yourself, but that's not an answer."
McGonagall blinked as she took in my statement.
"I see."
I seriously doubted that.
She raised an eyebrow at me for that one. The room itself quickly fell into silence, the woman either contemplating her next question or stalling for time. You know, given this was probably an interrogation.
"This is most certainly not an interrogation. I am... merely curious as to why Professor Slughorn has sent me a request to have you enrolled into an external potion professor's tutelage,"
I blinked at the words, not knowing that had evidently been an offer!
"Well, that's obviously because he's guilty."
"And, what would he be guilty of exactly?"
I contemplated the question, my gaze once again fleeting towards the entrance to the room.
"That's difficult to answer,"
"How so?"
"I have a question."
McGonagall blinked at the sudden words, though she thankfully gave the go-ahead for me to ask.
I think.
I am not entirely sure what the eyebrow-raising supposed to actually mean.
"Is Professor Dumbledore listening to this?"
To my surprise, McGonagall made absolutely no reaction to the question. At least other than taking a few moments before she chose to answer. Which automatically translated it to-
"No, he is not,"
A lie.
That, on the other hand, she did react to.
"I see. In that case, I have a request as well,"
"...Does it have anything to do with Professor Slughorn's supposed guilt?"
"It has something to do with why,"
When the woman made no remark on my answer, I decided to go ahead and make it anyway. Albeit, towards the door.
"Well, it's really more asking for permission, than a request, really," I stated.
"Mr. Black, I am, as it were, in front of you."
I turned back and gave her a nod.
"...What permission are you looking for? Will I require Professor Slughorn's appearance for it?"
"No, the permission has nothing to do with him specifically. But it will definitely answer your questions,"
"I see, well, you've certainly piqued my interest. What is this magical permission you seek?"
I blinked.
Was that a joke? If it was, I am most certainly impressed. I almost missed it!
"Just permission to speak really," And just as the woman made to comment, or ask, about what, I added on the rest. "Would you like to know which wand killed Ariana Dumbledore?"
"..." Silence, of course, immediately filled the classroom. The woman's brief amusement seemingly died out the moment the words echoed around the room. I watched as she tilted her head, her expression unreadable towards me, to the door.
It took a moment more before whatever veil dumbledore seemingly cast on himself lifted, the man coming into view almost immediately. Yet even as he stepped into view, he was lost for words as he stared at me. Almost in an entirely new light.
"...How did you know he was there?" McGonagall broke said silence with a question.
"I could smell him,"
...
It took, perhaps, a few moments at best before Dumbledore regained control of his fluctuating emotions. Presumably. The man himself had, instead of taking a seat like my head of the house, instead settled for standing beside the table. His gaze appraisive of me.
Yet, to my surprise, he never brought up my request.
"You've made quite an impact on your first day here, Mr. Black. I find myself curious as to what else you could accomplish given an entire year."
"Am I getting expelled? I am supposed to be here for seven."
A twinkle seemed to fill the man's eyes at my response, though the kind of undertones it might've had were lost on me.
"Tell me, Mr. Black, do you know what a prophecy is?"
"Nonsense," I replied without missing a beat, earning a raised eyebrow in response.
"How quick of you to answer,"
"Well, I ought to know, don't you think?"
"And why is that? Do you know where prophecy come from?"
"Addled minds."
"Prophecy's come from seers, Sirius," McGonagall decidedly remarked, an even look on her face as she stared towards the headmaster. "And while I am sure the headmaster would like nothing more to help you come to the answer yourself, I do believe that time is of the essence here,"
Oh right. I had classes to go to. And kudos to the professor for using my name so seriously!
"...Seers don't make prophecies," I chose to reply, gazing at the two before me in the eye. "They make promises that tend to be broken once heard,"
"An interesting way of looking at it," "The headmaster believes you to be one,"
I snapped my head between the two of them, mostly unsure of who I was actually supposed to respond to. Giving it another moment's thought, I went for the saner option.
"Well, I don't know about that, at least I wouldn't call myself one. It's really a lot simpler than it seems."
I put a finger on my chin, turning my gaze to face the headmaster only.
"You're pretty old, right? What's your memory like?"
Besides Professor McGonagall's very obvious amusement, there wasn't much of a reaction to the statement. Though the old man at least answered my question honestly.
"Fleeting,"
I nodded at said response. "Well, mine's like that as well. Some memories are very vivid. Some I can barely recall, but most of it hasn't happened yet,"
I took in a breather, somewhat surprised to see both of the professors before me completely serious. Almost as if they believed me. For some reason.
"Take Remus for example,"
"He's one of Sprouts I recall?" McGonagall remarked curiously.
"The same, see I only found out he was a werewolf-"
Judging by the widened eyes, I take it my head of house didn't in fact know. Or maybe she's surprised I figured it out? Knowing the headmaster... I really wouldn't put it past either option...
"-because someone tried to feed someone else to him in year six."
"...Do you know who the involved students were? That's a grievous accusation to make," McGonagall chose to question, as opposed to Dumbledore obviously holding back information. Or making it so easy to figure out in the first place. Really couldn't tell you which.
Regardless, I shook my head.
No way I was mentioning that.
"I've got one better," I decided to deadpan to the woman instead. "He lets 'em get away with it," I remarked pointing a finger towards a conflicted headmaster.
"...I see." She sighed.
"But still, not all of it makes sense... And some of the memories are just wrong!"
"Wrong? In what sense?" Dumbledore questioned, leaning the slightest closer towards me. My own accusations evidently having no effect on the man. Even if McGonagall seemed unwilling to look him in the eye.
"Well for one thing, me, right now I mean. This is all wrong," I remarked, waving my hands about the classroom. "I am not supposed to be telling you any of this. Everything's already changing,"
The two professors, for a moment, shared a glance before the headmaster turned back towards me.
"Yet here you are telling us, is there a reason why?"
"...Change is good. Bad things willhappen without it. A lot of people will die."
I chose that moment to stand up of my seat, not really looking to wait for their response.
"If you don't mind, I should really get going. I've yet to actually do any of Professor's McGonagall's reading," And without wasting a beat I promptly turned and left the room.
Though not before McGonagall chastised me for leaving it to the last minute.