Minerva has some issues with Sirius Black's sorting.

She slammed the door of the staff room behind her and shoving past a very shocked Flitwick, Minerva threw herself down onto the sofa and crossed her legs, clearly upset. The first week was not even out yet and already those bloody first years had lost Gryffindor sixty points.

Pomona Sprout sipped her tea and gave her colleague and friend a confused look. "Only a few days into term and already your wand is a knot!" The Herbology professor cried, hiding a smug. "I expect it's that…"

Minerva's eyes flickered upward viciously. "Don't speak his name."

"I'll tell you like I told Dumbledore at the feast—Sirius Black belongs in Slytherin!" The adamant voice of Professor Slughorn cried from the other side of the staff room. "His family has been in my house for ages—"

"Fine, you can have him," Minerva screeched at the Potions master. He seemed to shrink significantly once he heard the anger in McGonagall's voice. "In fact, I'll pay you just to be able to wash my hands of that wretched demon child!"

Flitwick raised an eyebrow. "He can't be that bad."

"Oh you haven't heard the stories?" Pomona piped up, her voice nearly squeakier than Filius'. "It's rumoured that Black nearly destroyed Grimmauld Place with accidental magic. Took five Aurors and a week's time to put it right!"

Minerva sighed. That wasn't even the half of it. "Accidental magic didn't cost Gryffindor sixty points tonight, Pomona. The boy is a menace, I tell you," She asserted, a vague hint of anger still detectable in her voice.

"Six—Minerva, what did the boy do?" Slughorn asked incredulously. "And shouldn't you be briefing the prefects on their duties for the night?"

Her eyebrows raised. "I should be, shouldn't I? But not on Sirius Black's watch! He lit the bloody schedules afire before I even had a chance to pass them out! Earned himself a detention, he and that bloody Potter—"

Flitwick spat his tea out. "P-Potter and Black? Are you quite sure?"

Minerva nodded sadly. "I saw them laughing at dinner."

"You're joking," Slughorn declared disbelievingly. "Those boys have become friends? We're doomed, doomed!"

Pomona was quiet, her face pale. She lowered her eyes guiltily.

"Pomona," Minerva drawled accusingly. She had the strangest feeling that Professor Sprout had a hand in this. "What say you?"

The round, stout woman looked up from her tea and turned a bright shade of red. "Well, no one wanted to be partners with Black or Potter—"

"What did you do?" Slughorn growled impatiently.

"I had to pair them off! I had to!" Pomona admitted shamefully. "Everyone else was far too scared of getting hexed, I mean you should've seen Black...Evans was about to take a seat next to him and he started pretending to sharpen his wand! The only person who wasn't afraid of him was Potter!"

"I can see why," Minerva retorted sassily. "What kind of decent human pretends to sharpen a wand?"

"Black is plenty decent!" Slughorn shot back defensively, pointing a stern finger at the Deputy Headmistress. "He's just misunderstood is all."

Minerva placed her hands on her waist. "How does one misunderstand arson, Slughorn?" Finally, she turned on Pomona. "And you—how could you do this to the staff? You know what this means now, don't you? Black and Potter are friends."

"Don't you go accusing me! It was either Black and Potter or Black and Snape…take your bloody pick!" Pomona cried, waving her hands menacingly over her head. "I did you all a favour, as far as I'm concerned!"

"Ah, still baffled by the sorting of young Sirius, are we?" Albus Dumbledore's unmistakable voice resonated in the staff room. "I did see him in the corridor with James Potter. They looked rather engrossed in something fun."

It was like they hadn't even heard him.

Minerva forgot all about Pomona and pelted toward the Headmaster. "Albus, you fix this."

"Slytherin!" Slughorn cried feverishly. "He belongs in—"

"Prison!" Minerva finished. "The boy belongs in prison!"

Albus stepped forward and gently pushed his way through the four teachers, making it to the centre of the room. He held up a knowing finger. "Mr. Black is exactly where he belongs. The Sorting Hat makes no mistakes."

"Shhh, do you hear that? It's that criminal child—out of bed after curfew!" Minerva hissed, holding her ear to the door. She pushed it open and looked down the hallway in time to see a cheerful Sirius and a highly amused James running back to Gryffindor tower.

"Albus," She said underneath her breath. "You get that blasted hat back on Black's head and you have him resorted into Slytherin or I will permanently charm it to his skull until he is sorted into the proper house! Black!" She bellowed after him as he sped down the corridor. "You haven't heard the end of this! You mark my words, Black, mark them!"