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Minerva has been teaching for a very long time. She knew her students' patterns. Like how when they finish the assignment she gave them, they’ll set down their wands and talk to their seatmates, then a separate group, then shout across the room if she lets them get to that point.
She rarely does.
Rarely isn’t never.
She’d wanted to finish grading the last of their essays so she could hand them back at the end of class. An extra five minutes on their assignment couldn’t hurt so much.
Except in those five minutes the noise level rose steadily. The clanging of transfigured bells didn’t help.
She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes while she surveyed the state of her classroom. Students were standing and waving, bells lying on desks as well as undone ties and wands.
The rowdiest group was near the back, surrounding James, because of course they were. He and Peter seemed to be telling a story, their roleplay of conversation only interrupted by Peter’s giggles.
She stood abruptly and let her chair scratch against the floor. Students who heard immediately turned and waited; these were seventh years, after all, so they knew the drill.
She looked to the back, thinking. She did not raise her voice; it was unbecoming and disrespectful to her students, not to mention unnecessary. Particularly when the Marauders were around. Students paid attention to what they found interesting, and disciplining the Marauders could be interesting.
She looked beyond the group. She couldn’t hear what they were saying and didn’t deign to try, so she couldn’t give a remark on it. For once, Sirius wasn’t acting with James or offering his own remarks. Instead, he was writing. He balled up his parchment and threw it, correcting the trajectory with a flick of his wand so it would land on Remus’ desk.
It was strange to see them sitting apart. She’d heard the same things she’d observed in her own classes from other teachers; the pair was a disruption to class when they sat together, even more so than usual. 3 other teachers had also placed them a seat from each other, the same way Minerva had.
Something had changed. Was Minerva curious? Yes. Did she want to get involved? Absolutely not.
Still, she smiled when Remus wrote something and passed it right back. That was a good opportunity.
She addressed the part of the class that was listening. “How did you all do? Do your bells ring properly? Perhaps you can demonstrate to get their attention,” she said. The students grinned and rang their bells. James only sat down, still talking a mile a minute, though Peter had noticed her look and tugged on James’ sleeve.
Sirius and Remus continued to pass notes even when charmed, parchment planes came to a halt and dropped onto desks.
“They’re deaf,” Lily grumbled from the middle of the classroom, though the annoyance was token. Dorcas and Mary laughed.
Minerva smiled. Then, she raised her wand.
Sirius threw another note toward Remus. She cast Accio, letting her intent pull the notes off course despite his charm and soaring to the front of her class into her palm.
Sirius’ chair scratched louder than hers had as he tilted forward on instinct. James paused, which was a miracle in itself.
“When you hear me checking if you finished your assignment, you ought to put your quill down, Sirius,” she said. “You know I don’t like notes in my classroom.”
It was true, and he knew it. She did this often, after all; it was a good way to get in on the students’ gossip, which was worth galleons in the staff room.
She did hesitate when Sirius didn’t respond, his face an alarming shade of red. His hair was in a loose bun and he was tugging a strand that had gotten free, eyes averted.
She unfolded the note. Her class was quiet, as she’d intended.
One side had doodles and notes, each in either Muggle mechanical pencil or quill.
On the other side, the side Minerva had only happened to open to, in ink that was still drying, in Sirius Black’s messy combination of calligraphy and print, were the words “I love you.”
…ah.
There was a small thunk when Sirius’ head hit the desk.
“Go on, Professor,” Lily said, green eyes sparkling, “I’m curious.”
“Lily,” Sirius hissed.
“This is revenge for stealing my eyeliner,” she said.
“‘Can I steal your allowance to buy a few Zonkos during the Hogsmeade weekend?’” Minerva said, before lowering the note, her mind whirling. “Sirius, I recommend you focus on making it to Hogsmeade before worrying about how you’ll pay for your tricks,” she said, balling the note back up. “We all know you’re much more likely to get a detention.”
The class chuckled, used to this rapport, which had been her original intention. She hadn’t expected anything personal.
Very personal, since Sirius still hadn’t gained the ability to speak, only looking at her with wide eyes. He shut his mouth and swallowed.
“I - yeah. Fair enough, Professor” he mumbled. He didn’t often mumble. He didn’t often smile like that either, tiny and shy.
“Very well,” she said, before she sent the note flying back toward Remus. His eyes were narrowed at Sirius, but Minerva gave the note a look. He looked down at it, before unfolding it.
He smiled wide, and Minerva turned away from her class and did the same.
Oh, she thought, Albus owes me so much money.