Who's Sirius Black?
"Well?" Professor McGonagall demanded, seating roughly behind her desk. She folded her hands before her, her eyes gazing intently at Harry.
"What?' Harry asked, expression of pure innocence. He didn't move a muscle, one squirm, one look of guilt, even a quick glance away would give him away. I didn't do anything wrong, he thought over and over. I know nothing.
"Don't play dumb with me, Potter." McGonagall snarled, then she checked herself, her face becoming expressionless. "Draco had a shattered rib, a fractured jaw, and three broken fingers."
Harry nodded slowly. Don't smile. Don't twitch! "It must have been a rough day for Draco."
"Thirty minutes he lay in that hall while everyone was in class. Thirty minutes where he could have died." McGonagall said angrily, her hands were shaking from the pent up rage.
"What does this have to do with me?" Harry asked. It took all his will and effort to keep from laughing. Thirty minutes and no one knew he had been beaten up or that he was missing at all? Don't twitch!
"Twenty minutes after you left the Hospital Wing you returned. A bruised larynx, two broken fingers, various other bruises and marks of violence upon you body. You mean to tell me this has nothing to do with what happened with Draco near Snape's Potions classroom?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Professor. I already told Pomfrey what happened, and I know nothing about what happened to Draco. But I'll tell you this, who ever did have a row with Draco in the corridor, if you ever find him or her, tell me, because I'd like to shake that person's hand. Draco's had what he got a long time coming. Always sniping at people, making jokes behind their backs, and insulting them." Harry said, suddenly feeling angry.
McGonagall sighed, leaning back in her chair. Her sigh wasn't a sign of defeat. It was a sigh of realizing you've misjudged a person. Harry felt like confessing right then and there, but he couldn't. I didn't' do anything wrong!
"Violence never solves anything, Harry. It's just begets more violence, hate, and anger. You think you solved something with Draco today? No. All you did was make him hate you more." Harry began to deny everything, but she just shook her head and held up her hand to quiet him. "I don't know what to do with you. I don't know what's gotten into you."
She was silent for a moment, watching him. "I've lost someone I've loved dearly before." She said suddenly.
Harry looked at her in confusion.
"I've felt the anger, the frustration, and the impotence that comes with trying to deal with the grief and the pain." She sighed and her eyes seemed to go unfocused for a moment, remembering old memories. "I've experience the anger you're feeling now. The irrational rage that burns in you for not being able to help Sirius that night." She said softly.
Harry looked at her in confusion. "Who?" He asked.
It was like a steel door slammed down on McGonagall's expression. The almost motherly expression she wore moments ago vanished, replaced by a stone hard immobile one. "Is that an attempt at a joke, Potter?"
"Uh...." Harry tried to think frantically of a correct response.
"I do not like being mocked, especially when I'm trying to help you, Potter." McGonagall said stiffly. "I know you and Sirius Black were close. I know that you're still grieving for him, but its still no excuse for violence."
Harry tried desperately to not look confused. "I'm sorry, Professor. I don't mean to mock you or anything. It's just... who's Sirius Black?" Harry asked, quickly.
Harry nearly winced. McGonagall glared at him, her eyes like knives and her presence suddenly seeming to loom over him. Harry unconsciously leaned back in his chair, trying to put some space between him and her and get closer to the door. Suddenly that seemed to vanish and it was replaced with another emotion, fear.
"What do you mean, who's Sirius Black?" She asked, her voice low.
"I just don't know who you're referring to when you're talking about Sirius Black. It's a person, right?" Harry tried to find a path that wouldn't anger her.
McGonagall just stared at him. "I'm going to have to get Dumbledore." She muttered.
"Well?" Professor McGonagall demanded, seating roughly behind her desk. She folded her hands before her, her eyes gazing intently at Harry.
"What?' Harry asked, expression of pure innocence. He didn't move a muscle, one squirm, one look of guilt, even a quick glance away would give him away. I didn't do anything wrong, he thought over and over. I know nothing.
"Don't play dumb with me, Potter." McGonagall snarled, then she checked herself, her face becoming expressionless. "Draco had a shattered rib, a fractured jaw, and three broken fingers."
Harry nodded slowly. Don't smile. Don't twitch! "It must have been a rough day for Draco."
"Thirty minutes he lay in that hall while everyone was in class. Thirty minutes where he could have died." McGonagall said angrily, her hands were shaking from the pent up rage.
"What does this have to do with me?" Harry asked. It took all his will and effort to keep from laughing. Thirty minutes and no one knew he had been beaten up or that he was missing at all? Don't twitch!
"Twenty minutes after you left the Hospital Wing you returned. A bruised larynx, two broken fingers, various other bruises and marks of violence upon you body. You mean to tell me this has nothing to do with what happened with Draco near Snape's Potions classroom?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Professor. I already told Pomfrey what happened, and I know nothing about what happened to Draco. But I'll tell you this, who ever did have a row with Draco in the corridor, if you ever find him or her, tell me, because I'd like to shake that person's hand. Draco's had what he got a long time coming. Always sniping at people, making jokes behind their backs, and insulting them." Harry said, suddenly feeling angry.
McGonagall sighed, leaning back in her chair. Her sigh wasn't a sign of defeat. It was a sigh of realizing you've misjudged a person. Harry felt like confessing right then and there, but he couldn't. I didn't' do anything wrong!
"Violence never solves anything, Harry. It's just begets more violence, hate, and anger. You think you solved something with Draco today? No. All you did was make him hate you more." Harry began to deny everything, but she just shook her head and held up her hand to quiet him. "I don't know what to do with you. I don't know what's gotten into you."
She was silent for a moment, watching him. "I've lost someone I've loved dearly before." She said suddenly.
Harry looked at her in confusion.
"I've felt the anger, the frustration, and the impotence that comes with trying to deal with the grief and the pain." She sighed and her eyes seemed to go unfocused for a moment, remembering old memories. "I've experience the anger you're feeling now. The irrational rage that burns in you for not being able to help Sirius that night." She said softly.
Harry looked at her in confusion. "Who?" He asked.
It was like a steel door slammed down on McGonagall's expression. The almost motherly expression she wore moments ago vanished, replaced by a stone hard immobile one. "Is that an attempt at a joke, Potter?"
"Uh...." Harry tried to think frantically of a correct response.
"I do not like being mocked, especially when I'm trying to help you, Potter." McGonagall said stiffly. "I know you and Sirius Black were close. I know that you're still grieving for him, but its still no excuse for violence."
Harry tried desperately to not look confused. "I'm sorry, Professor. I don't mean to mock you or anything. It's just... who's Sirius Black?" Harry asked, quickly.
Harry nearly winced. McGonagall glared at him, her eyes like knives and her presence suddenly seeming to loom over him. Harry unconsciously leaned back in his chair, trying to put some space between him and her and get closer to the door. Suddenly that seemed to vanish and it was replaced with another emotion, fear.
"What do you mean, who's Sirius Black?" She asked, her voice low.
"I just don't know who you're referring to when you're talking about Sirius Black. It's a person, right?" Harry tried to find a path that wouldn't anger her.
McGonagall just stared at him. "I'm going to have to get Dumbledore." She muttered.