James Potter and the Careers Advice

The day fifteen-year-old James Potter had career consultation with Professor McGonagall, he decided to announce his presence with a loud boom.

He set a Whizzing Firework outside her office.

"Good afternoon, Professor," James said innocently as he slammed the door to her office. The firework erupted with exact timing. "Shall we begin by introducing each other?"

Minerva McGonagall looked unamused. "Don't make me take points from Gryffindor," she warned and waved her hand at the seat across her. "Make yourself comfortable, Potter."

James swung his legs over the armrest.

She scowled. "Not that comfortable." While James tried to make himself 'not that comfortable', McGonagall looked through his report. "Have you made any plans what you will do when you graduate from Hogwarts?"

"Marry Lily Evans," James answered almost immediately.

Her lips twitched. "I have no interest in your love life, Potter," she told him coolly. "As a career, I meant."

He looked thoughtful. "I have always wanted to open a joke shop with Sirius," James admitted.

"A joke shop?" McGonagall sputtered. "Are you kidding?"

"Nope," he said, hiding a grin. "Don't you think I have superb potential for this job?"

"Yes, yes," she replied hastily. "But don't you think you should... set your standards a little higher?"

"Getting Lily Evans to like me is the biggest - and toughest - aim I have ever set," James said earnestly and adopted a glum look. "Do you think she will ever fall for me?"

McGonagall sighed. "I'm sure she will... in the distant future. Very distant."

He pouted. "So much for encouragement," he complained.

She almost chuckled. "Let us get back to business, Potter," she suggested. "Have you ever considered being an Auror?"

James shrugged. "Yeah... so?"

"Do you know what subjects you will require?"

He shrugged again. "Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

Professor McGonagall nodded. "You will need an 'Exceeds Expectations' for that. You have shown reasonable results so far-"

"Of course," James interrupted haughtily. "I have always shown perfect results-" he paused. "That is, if Lily is around to see it," he added as an afterthought.

McGonagall resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Charms as well needs an-"

"'Exceeds Expectations', which is also something I'm good at," he finished, grinning. "We both know how charming I am."

"Yes, extremely charming. Is that why Miss Evans hasn't started to like you?" she asked dryly.

James frowned. "She's special," he said finally. "She has as much charm as me. She wouldn't even need a charm school in the future to impress the guys." He looked thoughtful. "Maybe I could open a charm school."

"Potions!" declared the professor, who was desperately trying to ignore the boy's ranting. She gave him a look. "Have you been giving the Potions professor trouble?"

He hoped he didn't looked guilty. "I'm good at Polyjuice," he offered feebly.

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "You have been brewing it," she accused flatly.

"Let's go back to the consultation, shall we?" James asked nervously.

"Who have you been turning to?" she demanded to know.

"Nobody," James said brightly.

"I warn you, Potter..."

"Oh, alright," he grumbled. "I've been Severus Snape." He pretended to strangle himself. "His hair stinks."

"Potter!"

James nodded. "It's true," he told her. "I don't think he even bathes, not to mention washing his hair. Heck, pigs may fly if he should go near the bathroom!"

McGonagall stared at him. "Why have you been... turning into him?"

"To help him..." Get on the bad side of the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. "... increase his Defence Against the Dark Arts grade," James said instead and give the professor a big, fake smile. "Now, what else do I need to be an Auror?"

"Transfiguration," the professor stated, still eyeing him suspiciously. He loosened his tie subconsciously. "Your work has been satisfactory so far, but if you actually got about handing in homework, you might get an 'Outstanding'."

If I wasn't running around the Whomping Willow in Animagus form, I might have finished your homework, James thought in amusement.

"What can I say?" he asked. "I'm too busy hexing Snape to do your work." He quickly added, when he saw the professor's expression change, "Kidding, Professor."

She pretended not to hear his comment about Severus Snape. "Being an Animagus is also - why are you... snorting, Potter? Something up your nose?"

If only she knew. James grinned. "Nothing. I was just... observing the girls at the Quidditch Field."

McGonagall arched an eyebrow. "Is Miss Evans there?"

He made a face. "I wish."

Suddenly there was a LOUD explosion outside the office. James grimaced. He had forgotten that he had told the Marauders to set the whole box of fireworks if he wasn't out of the professor's office in, say, ten minutes and twenty-two seconds.

"Is this your doing, Potter?" McGonagall asked furiously as she stood up from behind her desk.

"Er - not really," he said guiltily. "Why don't I go outside and check-"

The professor was already at the door.

Incidentally, another one was set off... right in front of Professor McGonagall.

Slowly, she turned to James. "James. Potter," she raged. "DETENTION!"

He trudged out of the office, sighing. "Maybe I should become a professor next time," James muttered as he walked to the caretaker's office. "At least I wouldn't get detention." He brightened. "Hell, I can even give detentions. Maybe I'll give one to Snape's kid."

James then stopped in his tracks. "Nah," he said to himself, shaking his head, as he continued walking. "He will never have a kid."