Happy birthday!

[shimotsuki]

Here's wishing a most excellent -- not to mention very lucky -- birthday today to tegdoh! This is a very short little something that I hope will give you a bit of a smile in the middle of your busy day.

Suspicious Activities
(332 words | G | Marauder-era)

Suspicious Activities
Minerva strode into the Transfiguration classroom, deposited a pile of notes and marked homework papers on her desk, glanced at the blackboard to be sure that it was unsullied by bawdy art or cheeky comments, and turned to face the students.

Her sharp eyes scanned the rows. All of the Gryffindor seventh-years were sitting quietly at their tables, with nothing in front of them but wands, quills, and note-taking parchments, waiting politely and attentively for her to begin her lecture.

All of them.

This was not normal.

With a rush of adrenaline, she scanned the classroom again. Potter and Black were sitting together in the front row, with Lupin and Pettigrew right behind them. All four boys smiled sweetly at her. Her lips thinned, and she checked their tables again for hidden objects, their robes for suspicious bulges.

Nothing.

With a sigh, Minerva braced herself for the unexpected and began her lecture about identifying magical signatures in Transfigured objects, keeping one eye firmly fixed on the four boys on the left side of the room.

Still nothing.

By the end of the lecture, her nerves were frayed and bristling. It was all she could do not to snap at poor Maire Donovan when she stopped to ask a question after class as all the other students filed out.

All of them.

Once Miss Donovan had left her in peace as well, Minerva searched the empty classroom quite thoroughly. Nothing was missing; nothing was superfluous; nothing was out of place.

What on earth had those boys done this time?

A sudden scuffle of footsteps in the corridor brought her head up with a snap. Four heads dashed past the door—two black, one brown, one tow-colored. A shower of blue sparks struck the dusty old tapestry hanging on the wall in the back of the classroom.

Minerva stared as the faded images of knight, lady, castle, and willow tree rearranged themselves to form letters, then words, bright with new colours—

.:* HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PROFESSOR!!! *:.

ETA: And be sure to have a look at the "prequel" contributed by zia_montrose in the comments!
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Comments

[shimotsuki.livejournal.com]

And thank you for the prequel! *snort* Ah, those Marauders.

It would be fun to write more McGonagall. I'll have to see if I can work on that...

ETA: I put a link to your comment in the main post so everyone will be sure to find your prequel. :)

[zia-montrose.livejournal.com]

Aw, thanks for showcasing me. It's hard to know whether it's a good idea to 'graffiti' someone else's page, but I thought you might appreciate Moony's masterminding.

And just to let you know, I too, liked the line about the 'heads'. It struck me as subtle and economically-phrased and it felt like the way the mind would see it. : )

[shimotsuki.livejournal.com]

Graffiti welcome on this journal! :) And glad to know you thought the 'heads' were okay...