A/N: Yet another cringe-worthy HP oneshot from when I was 11. McGonagall's point of view of Harry's Career Advice meeting.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the lines in the first half taken directly from the book.

The first day after the Easter holidays was nothing short of torture. Of course, nothing was short of torture when it involved Dolores (or, as I preferred to call her, that Ministry toad) listening to me teaching. But a break from Dolores Umbridge had gotten me out of shape, and I needed to pack up my spine again. I doubted I could; I'm always such a wimp at dealing with nasty colleagues.

What made me most furious that day was that she seemed to think she could watch Potter's career advice meeting after lunch. I knew very well that she wanted to get as much information about him as possible to feed to the Minister. At 2:30 pm, she followed from behind me all the way to my office.

He came in five minutes later, apologizing. I assured him it was no matter, but Dolores gave a smug sniff from the corner.

"Well, Potter, this meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue into your sixth and seventh years. Have you had any thoughts about what you would like to do after you leave Hogwarts?"

"Er…"

"Yes?"

"Well, I thought of, maybe, being an Auror," he mumbled, clearly irritated by Dolores's scratching on her clipboard.

As I explained to him about the N.E.W.T.s necessary, Dolores gave a small cough. Not in the mood to send her a scathing look, I went on, "You'll want to know which subjects you ought to take, I suppose?"

"Yes. Defense Against the Dark Arts, I suppose."

"Naturally, I would also advise—" Dolores gave another, louder cough, which I ignored as well "—Transfiguration, because Aurors would frequently need to Transfigure or Untransfigure in their work. And I ought to tell you now, Potter, that I do not accept students into my NEWT class unless they have an 'Exceeds Expectations' or higher at OWL. I'd say you're averaging Acceptable at the moment, so you'll need to put in some good hard work before the exams to stand a chance of continuing. Then you ought to do Charms, always useful, and—"

I paused here, wondering whether to tell him that Dolores demanded an 'Outstanding' in D.A.D.A., but I had no desire to talk about her at all, so I told him about Potions instead. Then Dolores gave her loudest cough yet.

"May I offer you a cough drop, Dolores?" I demanded, without meeting her eyes.

"Oh no, thank you very much," she giggled, giving her little laugh that made Potter's face contract in hatred. "I was just wondering whether I could make the teensiest interruption, Minerva?"

I considered heaving a handful of pamphlets from my desk at her, but I said as politely as I could with bared teeth, "I daresay you'll find you can."

"I was just wondering whether Mr. Potter has quite the temperament for an Auror?"

I enjoy stalking my prey and taunting it before I pounce, but I've never had any patience with hunters who do the same. I almost wished the Ministry hag would just get to her point right away and stop it with all this moseying around.

"Were you?" I snapped. "Well, Potter," I said and I continued on, enjoying the anger I knew Dolores was containing as I told the student about his high Defense Against the Dark Arts in previous years until—

"…Professor Lupin in particular thought you—are you quite sure you woudn't like a cough drop, Dolores?"

You sickening toad of a witch I added in my mind as she coughed her loudest and simpered, "Oh, no need, thank you, Minerva. I was just concerned that you might not have Harry's most recent Defense Against the dark Arts marks in front of you. I'm quite sure I slipped in a note."

I pulled out a sheet of pink parchment, in Dolores's curly handwriting, a summary of each and every of Harry's offenses and detentions . "What, this thing?" I asked, revulsed. "Yes, as I was saying, Potter, Professor Lupin thought you showed a pronounced aptitude for the subject, and obviously for an Auror—"

I said that directly to infuriate her, but she remained sweetly happy and sang, "Did you not understand my note, Minerva?"

Glad that she had not coughed, I still gritted my teeth and said, "Of course I understood it," still refusing to meet her pouchy eyes. I decided to maintain the attitude that he was exceptional in D.A.D.A. until the old toad exploded. She said, "Well then, I am confused… I'm afraid I don't quite understand how you can give Mr. Potter false hope that—"

"False hope? He has achieved high marks in all his Defense Against the Dark Arts tests—"

"I'm terribly sorry to have to contradict you, Minerva—" Oh, I'm sure you are I thought furiously "—but as you will see from my note—" Whatever is on that note is a masterwork of lies "—Harry has been achieving very poor results in his classes with me—"

That did it. How could Dolores Umbridge think that the results of her crappy teaching methods were anything other than bilge? I was done being polite, I decided grimly. "I should have made my meaning plainer," I said, finally turning to meet her eyes. "He has achieved high marks in all Defense Against the Dark Arts tests set by a competent teacher."

Dolore's smile vanished. She began scribbling on her clipboard, which was fine by me. I'd gladly let the Prophet have a go at me instead of Potter. I caught a flicker of impressment on his face as I turned back to him. "Any questions, Potter?"

"Yes. What sort of character and aptitude tests do the Ministry do on you, if you get enough NEWTSs?"

"Well, you'll need to demonstrate the ability to react well to pressure and so forth, perseverance and dedication, because Auror training takes a further three years, not to mention very high skills in practical defense."

I knew Harry Potter would be able to live up to this, seeing what he'd been through in the last few years. I know I often don't show it, but I really am proud of him and his friends. "It will mean a lot more study even after you've left school, so unless you're prepared to—"

"I think you'll also find," said Dolores, her voice no longer sweet and simpering, "that the Ministry looks into records of those applying to be Aurors. Their criminal records."

Oh no, you're not dredging that up now I thought.I was done with the old hag interrupting me and went on without any notice. "Unless you're prepared to take even more exams after Hogwarts, you should really look at another—"

"—which means that this boy has about as much chance of becoming an Auror as Dumbledore has of ever returning to this school."

That did it. I snapped. My blood turned cold, as I realized the new depths she was sinking to, the more serious weapons she was using. She was not dredging up Dumbledore now, no, she wasn't. "A very good chance, then," I replied coldly.

"Potter has a criminal record."

"Potter has been cleared of all charges."

She stood up. "Potter has no chance whatsoever of becoming an Auror!"

I knew I'd gone too far to back out of a fight without looking cowardly. I stood up too. "Potter, I will assist you to become an Auror if it is the last thing I do! If I have to coach you nightly I will make sure you achieve the required results!"

That

"The Minister of Magic will never employ Harry Potter!" Umbridge snapped.

"There may well be a new Minister of Magic by the time Potter is ready to join!" I shouted back, completely lost in my fury.

"Aha! Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Of course! That's want you want, isn't it, Minerva McGonagall? You want Cornelius Fudge replaced by Albus Dumbledore! You think you'll be where I am, don't you, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister and headmistress to boot!"

"You are raving," I replied disdainfully. "Potter, that concludes our career consultation."

I really just wanted him to leave. I knew how awkward one can feel if caught in the middle of an argument. I turned back to Umbridge after he left. I was really done with being polite. "How dare you! You say that, accusing him of wanting more power. Dumbledore never wanted political power. He knew that real power is being able to help young minds. Whereas you simply believe forcing a simpleton of a wizard's agonizing over the names of simple spells down their throats is it!"

"Potter is a criminal! Those dementors were figments of his imagination! I am the Headmistress of Hogwarts and High Inquisitor and Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, you may take my word for it!"

"Having a long line of fancy titles is meaningless," I snapped back coldly. "Albus may have been been Headmaster, but that is not why I respect his opinions. I respect him for his verifiable outlooks on subjects that should not be decided by someone who spouts a bunch of fancy titles to justify themselves, rather than solid fact and reason!"

That shut her up. She stormed out of the corridor, and I dropped into my seat, thoroughly irritated and exhausted. But I felt better. I had stood up to Dolores Umbridge.