*Chapter VII: Dumbledore's Discipline
THUMP.
Harry's head smashed into a rounded figure's white robe. His agitated body tumbled off Malicia and onto the cold, smooth marble floor. As Harry looked up slightly, fixing his new glasses made for him the other night, he saw the towering elderly wizard that could have only been one person.
"In a hurry, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, extending his arm out to help Harry up to his feet.
"Is Snape behind me?" Harry questioned slightly turning his head.
"Professor Snape is in my office waiting for you. I advise you to tell me what has just happened."
"I don't exactly know," Harry said truthfully. "I mean I know what I did. I yelled at Sna—, Professor Snape, in front of everyone. That was after Malicia showed up."
Dumbledore ignored the comment about the argument with Snape. "Your Firebolt caused you much trouble yesterday I heard." Pointing to the statue up ahead, Dumbledore yelled to it, "Bellyless Beetledum." A spiraling staircase appeared, and the old wizard motioned Harry to follow him up it.
"Tell me, Harry," he continued, "have you told any one about your Driveller?"
"Ron knows and Hermione. Oh, Hagrid… And Draco knows it can do magic… And Snape heard it talk…"
"I see. And I suppose you want me to take Malicia off your hands?"
They now entered Dumbledore's dusty, cluttered office of books, potions and glass objects. As Harry trudged behind Dumbledore, he caught sight of a gold plated book lying on an oval table low to the ground. On the front was a pyramid in dark blue and a half moon rising behind it. Symbols stretched across the top. Wait, those symbols…
Harry had completely forgotten about the emerald leaf. It still hung around his neck! Quickly, he reached for it and lifted it up slowly. Flipping it over, he looked at the nine symbols. Perhaps the book could translate it for him. Just as Harry tried to open it, a lock magically appeared that shut it tightly. Dumbledore turned abruptly to the noise and raised his right eyebrow.
"Is there something in that book you wish to see?" He asked in a deep, yet monotone voice.
"No," Harry lied. He gently put the necklace away under his robe and took a seat in front of Dumbledore's desk.
"Harry, I am not pleased with your behavior."
Just before Harry could respond to him, he spotted Snape slogging from behind a tall bookcase. His usual dull complexion had changed to a pallid and frightened one; perhaps it was because he never thought Harry would disrespect him in such a way, or perhaps it was something else…
"Since you have been accused of misconduct in the class of Professor Snape, it is only fitting that he give you your punishment," Dumbledore said not caring much about what Harry did at all.
"But he has already given me punishment," Harry pleaded in a pestering, squeaky voice. "Gryffindor is well in the negatives, I will have homework for the rest of the school year, and I'm sure that Malicia will be taken away from me so I can't be on the Quidditch Team!"
After hearing the name Malicia, Snape's face twitched and flinched. He seemed quite disturbed and tried to settle himself by jumping up and then walking toward Harry in a slow trot.
"Mister Potter," he hissed the letter s. "I am sure you have conjured an excuse to try to get out of this one, but nothing can explain why you were so insolent toward me and your classmates. Detention everyday until Christmas Break should suffice for now. You will be in my office at 8 o'clock until 10 o'clock making no sound whatsoever."
Snape paused and looked over at Dumbledore who was playing with a crystal ball on his desk. And so, Snape continued. "Your enchanted broomstick…" He did not mention the name. "It will be confiscated."
"But Harry did not enchant his Firebolt," Dumbledore interrupted.
"Of course he did. His broomstick, well, can speak and listen apparently."
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, it does."
"Isn't it obvious that the boy used his wand to enchant it!" Snape yelled.
"No need to yell at me, Severus," Dumbledore said in a mellow voice. "Malicia here is a Driveller."
Again, Snape flinched but persisted anyway. "A Driveller? Nonsense. They were all destroyed over five centuries ago. There are laws banning such things—"
"If I may correct you," Dumbledore said and smiled. "In the late 14th century, a law was passed that stated that all Drivellers were to be found and destroyed by January 1st 1500. However, this particular broomstick must have escaped. And thus, the law does not apply to it since the law did not state anything about what happens after that date."
Snape looked infuriated. "But, there must be someway around that. I believe I should bring this up with the Ministry of Magic. They may have a word to say about a Driveller!"
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, I quite agree. If you could do so, please bring Malicia now to them and schedule a date in which they can inspect and run tests on her. However, they have been backed up lately, and it may take, oh, three months before they can make a decision."
At this point, Snape's face reddened and his hands shook, wanting to grab the broomstick and snap it across his knee. "Very well then. I will be back shortly. And you, Mister Potter, will be in my office starting tomorrow at 8 o'clock in the evening. Good day, Professor Dumbledore."
And with that, he left the office with Malicia in his hands and a look of both resentment and concern. Harry turned to Dumbledore sighing and wiped his sweaty forehead.
"Now, I shall give you my punishment," Dumbledore said as he sat down.
"What? Didn't you hear what Snape just gave me? You want to give me more?"
He nodded. "Yes. It's quite simple actually. I want you to visit me every other day of the week during your lunch break to discuss how you are feeling and what you have done. I am not sure why you are so, how shall I say it, temperamental lately, but I do want it to stop. Whether you believe it or not, you are very fortunate, Harry. You have beaten death numerous times, defeated Voldemort and saved several students. Do not abuse your achievements but strive to achieve more."
However, Harry was not listening to everything Dumbledore was saying. Instead, all he could think about was how much time he was wasting and how this school year would never end. His Quidditch practice was now replaced by two hours of detention. Lunch was being spent with a shrink. Neville, whose company was not terrible, replaced his best friend Ron. His usually content attitude was replaced with bitter ferocity…