Chapter Four: Quidditch and Quills
Harry didn't go straight to sleep that evening. He, Ron and Hermione had found their way back to Gryffindor Tower unscathed, thanks to the map, and a still guilty Hermione had sniffled something about going to bed before disappearing to her room. Ron was saying something about how great the first meeting had been as he headed up to his own bed, before stopping on the fifth step and turning to Harry, who hadn't moved.
"You coming?"
"Yeah, in a bit," Harry nodded. He needed to think and sharing a room with Seamus, who was no doubt going to make a fuss about sleeping in the same place as him again, was something which Harry just didn't have the strength to deal with.
"You alright, mate?" asked Ron, moving slowly back down the stairs. "Is it what Greengrass said?"
"Kind of," in truth Harry wasn't entirely sure what it was. He had had such a good time at their meeting but then, as everything seemed to these days, it had unravelled before his eyes. Hermione and Greengrass being at each other's throats and the question of Tracey Davis had certainly soured the evening.
But then she'd stopped and said that. Had he really been that good of a teacher in one session that he was better than Lupin? Did she even think it, or was she just trying to get into his good books? If he was honest with himself, Harry still wasn't sure he entirely trusted the Slytherin girl who had managed to worm her way into his life. He had stood up for her, not out of blinding trust, but instead a sense of kinship — he more than anyone knew exactly what it was like to be considered a freak, after all.
"She seems pretty decent, if you ask me." Ron said with a shrug. Sometimes Harry wished that he could live in Ron's head. It seemed a much simpler place. But that was a question in itself. How had Ron, of all people, suddenly stopped hating all Slytherins? The same boy who had passionately spent his entire Hogwarts life saying they were all dark witches and wizards.
"What was it you said about getting pally with the Slytherins? Fat chance?"
"Yeah, well, I meant Malfoy, didn't I? Greengrass seems alright. She had a go at that Marietta remember? And she was dead good with Neville."
"And what if it's all an act?" It was a question he hadn't wanted to ask but that had come unbidden, unwanted out of his mouth. He didn't want to be one of the people she hated, one of the people who just saw a badge and that was it, but the question had been there ever since she had come to him at the lake. As much as it had been a good thing to do, there was a part of him that wondered if that was what it was meant to look like. With everyone trying to distance themselves from him, why would Greengrass be trying to get closer?
"Nah," said Ron dismissively, "she'd have just kept her mouth shut, surely? Not like picking a fight with Hermione's going to get you to like her, is it?"
That was a good point. Also, wasn't trying to get Davis to join so early a bit weird if what Greengrass wanted was to try and get him on side. It just risked upsetting him and everyone else. Why did it have to be something anyway? Could she not just be reaching out like she said? He'd spent too much time with Mad-Eye, starting to see attacks where there weren't any.
He was suddenly very tired, as if all that mental paranoia had drained whatever vestiges of energy he had left.
"Yeah, you're right, I'm just…" he trailed off, not knowing what he was apart from simply exhausted.
"I know, mate."
Nothing further was said as the two boys headed up to bed, changed and clambered into their four poster beds. Ron was asleep in what seemed like seconds, but a peaceful slumber eluded Harry for some time longer. His fears and insecurities fading and instead her words echoed through his mind. Despite the glares and hatred, the shouting and the bickering, Greengrass had loved his lesson. He just hoped the next one was as good.
The week between their next meeting practically flew by. Harry, like all the other fifth years, was drowning in a mountain of homework but it somehow didn't matter as much now. Whenever Umbridge set them work on that stupid book, Harry would find himself planning their upcoming lessons instead of concentrating on what he was writing.
His dreams about long dark corridors were starting to subside as well, and for the time in months he was finally getting some sleep. Thanks to the defence club, for they had still not come up with a name, people were starting to be a lot more friendly to him in the corridor as he passed. Instead of the snide whispers that had greeted him at the start of term, more and more people were either just ignoring him or even smiling at him.
The only person who this new found appreciation didn't extend to was Cho. She had avoided him ever since Greengrass and Marietta had fought in the Hog's Head. When he had asked Hermione about this she had gone on a very long tirade about how confused Cho must be feeling, the fact that Marietta would be trying to poison her against Harry and that she, not Cho, was probably the reason much of the school had said he and Daphne were dating.
"Her mother's in the Ministry, I bet she's just trying to get Cho to avoid you to save her own neck. She'll come round, Harry."
But Harry wasn't sure that he even wanted her to. Every time he saw her the stomach flipping nerves that had overwhelmed him before were no longer there. Instead a strange emptiness filled him, the more he thought about how quickly she had bounced onto him instead of Cedric, the more the feelings he had had for her evaporated. It was like someone had turned a great switch in his head. He had convinced himself that if he had just asked Cho first she might have said yes, that things would have been different. The fact was she hadn't. She had chosen Cedric. Not Harry.
The night was blustery and cold, Harry could hear the wind howling outside the warm confines of the castle as he, Ron and Hermione headed for the Room of Requirement. They were not the first ones there, for when they opened the door, they were greeted by two Slytherin girls Greengrass and an auburn haired girl Harry assumed was Davis. The two had been talking when they entered because there was a sudden, rather awkward silence enveloping the room when they walked in. Greengrass looked a mixture of concerned and infuriated, while Davis was the embodiment of nerves.
"We thought we'd get here early," Greengrass explained, rather unnecessarily. "Save what happened last time, plus we thought —" Davis looked appalled, "okay, I thought, that it would be a good idea for you to meet Tracey first before everyone else does."
"Hi," said Davis rather meekly.
Hermione was the first one to react. She had not stopped apologising to Harry and Ron for the way she had spoken to Greengrass for an entire day after what had happened last time.
"I'm Hermione," she said, walking over to Davis and extending her hand. Davis looked utterly confused, but shook it all the same. Ron fought back a laugh. "And this is Ron." Ron, doing his best to wipe the grin off his face, waved. "And I'm sure you already know Harry."
Harry smiled and offered a small nod before checking his watch. They still had half an hour before everyone was due to arrive, though he wished he had known about this. But then how could she tell you? It wasn't as if Greengrass could just walk across the Great Hall and since the rumour of their dating had finally subsided neither party was keen to give it any more fuel again.
"Nice to meet you."
"Tracey likes Quidditch," Greengrass offered helpfully.
"Do you?" asked Ron excitedly, Hermione rolled her eyes and knowing that Quidditch was going to be the topic of conversation for quite some time, headed for the book cases to set about finding various new spells to research. "Do you play? Who do you support? You're not a Tornados fan, are you?"
Davis looked a little taken aback by the rapid fire questions hurled at her. Behind her, Greengrass smirked before glancing over at Hermione who was sitting cross-legged on one of the cushions, a new book open on her lap.
"I want to. I'd like to be a Seeker, but it's not as if I can get in the Slytherin team." Tracey began, "and, no I'm not a Tornados fan. Everyone knows people just like them because they've come good this year. I'm a Harpies fan, so's my mum, that's how I got into it in the first place."
"You any good?"
"I like to think so."
"Rubbish, you're better than good. I wouldn't give up my Saturdays to help you if you weren't. You're better than Malfoy, that's for sure." Davis went a little pink. "It's true. He's the main reason we never win the bloody cup. Arrogant git. You'd walk into any team here, easily."
She looked up at Harry, before adding, "well, except maybe Gryffindor."
A ball of pride swelled in Harry's stomach, and he could not stop the grin spread across his face. There were few things he would actually say he was good at but Quidditch was one of them. It was the same feeling he had felt when Greengrass had said he was a good teacher too.
"Why are you training if you can't play for Slytherin?" asked Harry curiously.
"Well, I'd like to actually make a real go of it. You know, professionally. And it's not like Malfoy's going to stop being Seeker any time soon, so Daph said we should try and train me up ready for tryouts."
"Wicked!" Ron beamed, any house rivalry seemingly forgotten. "I can't believe you're actually serious. Wood's the only bloke I've met that actually wanted to do it properly. Fred and George could if they really wanted to."
"Why don't you want to, Harry?" Davis asked. It was Harry's turn to be lost for words. Quidditch. It was just something he did for fun, a way to let off steam and really be free in the sky. It wasn't a job. Sure he was good enough for the Gryffindor team but he was nowhere near Krum's level or any of the other professional players he'd seen.
"I'd never really thought about it."
"You could definitely do it, mate. Only time you've not caught the snitch was when those Dementors came on the pitch."
"I guess."
It was still an odd idea to Harry who had only ever envisioned himself being an Auror. It was the only job that had ever appealed to him. He wouldn't even know how to go about being in a Quidditch team, and if every captain was as highly strung as Angelina and Wood he wasn't sure he wanted to be. Yet there was still something to the idea of doing what he loved, and there was no denying being on a broom gave him a sense of freedom nothing else could manage.
"It's worth looking into, if you're interested." Davis said quickly, seemingly both nervous about joining in and excited to talk about Quidditch. She had the same glint in her eye that Harry had seen when Wood would give hour long speeches about tactics. "There's loads of people doing trials for young talent, they get you in over the summer to train with the first team and play in under-17 leagues."
"They're really cool," Ron agreed fervently, "the Cannons didn't do too bad last year either. If we can keep hold of McGrath we stand a chance next year."
The conversation soon diverted into a debate over whether the Chudley Cannons would actually be able to do the impossible and keep their star players, which according to Ron was likely and Davis never happened. Harry found himself more than once posing as referee between the two, often being called on by Ron to support the Cannons. As they were talking he noticed Greengrass move over to where Hermione was sitting and begin talking. The two had not spoken since their argument at the last meeting. Judging by the fact that Hermione wasn't shouting and Greengrass hadn't hexed her, Harry decided that it was going well and so left them to it.
Soon other members began piling. The first to arrive were Fred and George, along with Lee Jordan, all of whom immediately began taking sides in the Cannons debate. Lee, more out of sympathy than anything else, joined Ron; while Fred and George took Davis' side. Neither twin kicked up a fuss, but Harry was sure he caught George eyeing Greengrass warily more than once.
When everyone had arrived, Harry took his usual place at the front of the group. It was no stranger than last time, to have all eyes staring at him.
"I thought we'd look at shield charms today," Harry began, "they're really useful, they don't block everything but they'll stop most things. They won't stop an Unforgivable, so my advice if you don't recognise it move. Spells can't hurt you if they don't hit you.
"Now, I know we haven't all learned this one," he was particularly looking at the Creavy brothers, who were staring at him in wide-eyed hero worship. "So, Hermione, would you mind?"
She joined him at the front of the room, drawing her wand. Harry was forcibly reminded of how they had trained for the maze the previous year. It had been she who had shown him how to cast the shield charm, before sending innocuous hexes at him to deflect.
"I reckon if you use Expelliarmus, Hermione, I'll do Protego. That way when you're practising you're also covering last week's stuff too." He drew his wand and stepped up so that he was level with Hermione. "This isn't a particularly easy spell, so don't be too upset if you don't get it right away. Took me weeks to get it last year, but it's really helpful so I thought it'd be best to start working on it early on."
"You ready?" Hermione nodded. "Okay, on three. One… two… three…"
Their shouts of various spells reverberated around the room. Just like he'd practised, the invisible barrier came up before him and Hermione's spell richoted harmlessly away and fizzled out in a fit of sparks as it hit the ceiling. Harry then spent a few more minutes showing everyone exactly how the charm worked, before dividing them up again and tasking them with producing their own shields.
Hermione paired up with Greengrass, Ron joined Davis and Neville, who rather unsurprisingly, began the lesson with Harry before joining Hermione and Greengrass so that Harry could once again move across the room and see how everyone else was doing. As he had expected there was a lot more shoddy spellwork this time around. Even Fred and George, who took to most spells quite quickly, were struggling.
"It's more of a flick," Harry explained as Fred's feeble shield did little to stop his twin's disarming charm. "Also, try and step to the side if you can too. I know we're not at the moment but it's good to move while you're duelling, that way your opponent can't get a clear shot every time."
"Cheers, Harry." Fred grinned before throwing a leg locker at George whose shield blocked it. "Here, what's the deal with the snakes?"
"They asked to join. I said yes. Greengrass came last week and Davis, she's the one with Ron, wanted to come too."
"Blimey, and Ron's alright with that?" Harry nodded, George let out a low whistle. "Never thought I'd see the day 'ickle Ronniekins would get all pally with a snake."
"Stranger things have happened, dear brother." George commented. "Speaking of, Harry. D'you reckon Hermione's going to let us do more tests in the Common Room again. It's not great for business having to get people to meet us in third floor bogs."
"It's a charming aesthetic, and the loos are great for the puking pastels," Fred said cheerfully, "but it's putting people off and we're starting to get big orders now. So we really need to start testing stuff faster."
"No chance." Harry laughed, Hermione's threat to tell Mrs Weasley still fresh in his mind.
"Shame, 'cause we reckon we'll have enough by summer to have a real go at it," George grinned. "We've got just the spot in Diagon Alley too."
"All thanks to you, mate."
"Don't mention it," said Harry, who had had to step out of the way to avoid a wayward disarming charm from Neville. "Really, your mum'll kill me."
"Mum's the word," George winked. Fred rolled his eyes and the absolutely dreadful pun and silently sent another leg locker at George who had to duck out of the way.
By the end of the hour almost a third of them, including Greengrass, Susan Bones and Angelina, had managed to cast pretty solid shield charms. Considering that on their first attempt nobody but Hermione and Katie Bell had managed to do a successful spell, Harry was both incredibly impressed and proud of all of them.
"That was great," he said when he had blown his whistle to signal nine o'clock. "Really, really good. Just keep practising if you can, and try not to worry if you didn't get it today. This is hard stuff, so keep trying, and you'll get there. It's just practice and having a bit of faith in yourselves, but you're all capable of doing it."
They all nodded and grinned appreciatively. "If that's everything then…"
But Hermione had her hand in the air. "Yes, Hermione?"
"I think we need a name," Hermione said, matter-of-factly. "We can't just keep calling ourselves the Defence Club, it's a bit obvious what we're doing and Umbridge'll find out."
This was meant with a lot of mumurrings and after a few suggestions, including a few colourful insults towards Umbridge from George, they settled on Dumbledore's Army or the DA for short.
Everyone then began to filter out in twos and threes. Greengrass and Davis waited for the rest to leave, which gave Hermione enough time to shove the members list under Davis' nose and get her to sign it. No doubt Greengrass had told her about the jinx, but Davis gave up her signature without even thinking. Once the door for the dungeons appeared the two girls left, Davis grinning widely at Ron who offered a lame wave.
"Think you made a new friend," Harry smirked as the three of them began walking to the Common Room.
Ron shrugged, "she's alright. Pretty serious about becoming a Seeker though. Says she's got a few dates for trials coming up. You know the ones where you sign up and then they put people into groups to see what they can do."
Harry nodded, though he had no idea what Ron was talking about. Whilst Ron lived and breathed Quidditch, Harry enjoyed the sport but didn't follow a team in particular. Living away from the magical world over the summer had its flaws, and not being able to keep up with the Quidditch season was one of them. He had tried paying attention in his first year, but when he realised the season ended four weeks after he went back to the Dursleys' he gave up keeping track.
"Apparently they practice Saturday mornings before breakfast. Can't use a proper snitch mind, but they make do. It'd be pretty cool to go see how good she, don't you think? You could give her some pointers, mate."
"I'm not that good."
"You're the youngest player in a century! Course you are. We don't have to, just thought it'd be a bit of fun."
"They might not want us there," Harry pointed out.
"It was Davis' idea, I didn't say anything. Just said we might head down sometime."
It still took Harry a moment to accept that Slytherins were actually asking to spend time with him and that Ron was actively in favour of this idea. "Alright, but isn't it a bit suspicious if someone sees us?"
As much as he liked Greengrass, and what he had seen of Davis, he was still a little unsure about hanging out with them outside of the DA. Inside the walls of the Room of Requirement barely anyone knew. It was a secret that only he and people he had begun to trust had access to. If it was out there for all to see, well, he dreaded to think how much the two girls' lives would be made by the rest of the Slytherins. Hanging out with Gryffindors was bad enough, but him.
"We've got the pitch booked at ten," Ron pointed out, "and the whole team's in the DA."
This was a very good point. Thanks to losing at least one practise in the week due to the DA, Angelina had taken it upon herself to ensure the team would practise at the weekends instead as their first match neared. She had made it her personal mission not to lose her first game as captain, especially to Slytherin.
There was no harm arriving early to give Davis some tips, he reasoned. Besides, there was no getting away from the fact that he and Greengrass were slowly becoming friends. He had found himself catching her eye whenever Snape said anything especially horrid to the Gryffindors in Potions on more than one occasion, and had actually been looking forward to seeing her that evening.
"Sure, why not?" Ron grinned excitedly. "How were they, by the way?"
"Yeah, not bad. Bit nervous, well, Davis was. Think Greengrass did alright too."
"She was very good," Hermione confirmed. "It was quite fun actually."
"What were you two talking about anyway?" Ron asked, with his usual tact. "At the start, before everyone else got there."
"Last week, what she said. She wanted to apologise for being so, well, to the point. I think she gets a bit sick of how everyone treats her really."
"Be fair, most of them are complete gits."
"Yes, but not all of them, Ron. The Sorting Hat was right. We should try and make bonds with the other houses. It's stupid when you think about it. I mean, why do we hate them anyway?"
Both boys were silent, Harry looking at his shoes. Greengrass' outburst had resonated with him more than he suspected she realised. Ron and Hermione still did not know just how bad his childhood had been. He would have given anything to fit in with the rest of the school, but Dudley had made sure that everyone was either terrified to be seen with him or else hated him for being a freak. It was little wonder that Davis had done what she had done.
"Exactly," Hermione continued, "it's just the way things are, but no-one ever really stops to think why. I've been doing a bit of reading, and you'd be surprised how many Ministers are from Slytherin. Mungo Bonham, he founded St. Mungo's, well he was in Slytherin. I'm not saying they're all good, because let's face it... Voldemort," Ron shivered violently, "has a lot of followers from Slytherin but it doesn't mean they're all bad either."
"Look at Pettigrew, he was in Gryffindor."
"That's what I mean, Harry. Everyone likes to forget that Sirius was in Gryffindor. He might not have actually done anything, but everyone thinks he did. Yet, it's never mentioned. Just that he was your dad's best friend. It's like Daphne says, people like to just fit it to the narrative they already know."
"Mum'd go spare if she found out we were spending so much time with them," Ron added. "Doubt Sirius would be chuffed either. Can't blame him, his entire family were dark by the sounds of it."
"Not Andromeda," Hermione pointed out, "and they're technically related to your dad too. I reckon they're probably related to Daphne too if you look back far enough, and Neville."
"His mum's a nutter though. Poor bloke, having to go past that portrait every day."
"I wish we could talk to him," Harry said. He did not like thinking about Sirius trapped in Grimmauld Place, wandering the empty old house by himself with just Kreacher for company. Ever since they had realised Umbridge was reading his mail, Harry had not sent a single letter to Sirius. Moody was right, he couldn't risk the letters being intercepted, especially not since Lucius Malfoy had spotted Sirius at Kings Cross.
"I know, Harry." Hermione said sympathetically. "But it's not long 'til Christmas. You could go back then, I'm sure he'd love that."
"Yeah, that'd be great. Not sure how I could ask him though."
"Ron could send a letter to his mum, she could pass it on, or Professor McGonagall."
Harry had not thought about asking Professor McGonagall. Whenever he thought about the Order he instantly thought about Dumbeldore, something which made his stomach turn whenever he did so. McGonagall wasn't a bad idea, she would definitely be able to get a message to Sirius.
"Mimbulus mimbletonia," said Ron as they reached the Fat Lady's portrait. She dutifully swung open, with a mildly annoyed tut at the lateness of their arrival. The Common Room had a few stragglers from the DA. Angelina and Alicia were sat by the fire, two feet of parchment unfurled on their laps. Both girls were studying for their NEWTs and somehow had it worse than the fifth years. Harry didn't want to think about how much homework they were being set, the History of Magic essay he had been ignoring to train with the team and plan DA lessons floating to the forefront of his brain.
He would just have to get up early again and stifling a yawn he bid goodnight to Hermione before leading the way up to the boys dormitory. Neville and Dean were chatting happily while Seamus sat sulkily in his bed, not looking at either of them.
"Cheers for that, Harry," Dean grinned as he pulled on his West Ham jersey.
"It was really good," Neville, who had been tending to his mimbulus mimbletonia as he talked to Dean, said happily. "I think I'm getting better at disarming. Daphne said I was loads better than last week, and I got Hermione once. Hermione!"
"That's great, Neville." From his bed, Seamus huffed sulkily, but Harry ignored him. It didn't take much to figure out that Seamus didn't approve of Harry letting Slytherins into the DA, in fact Harry was sure half of the DA didn't get it. As far as Harry was concerned, he didn't give a damn what Seamus thought. Since their argument at the beginning of term Seamus had avoided him as much as he could, which suited Harry just fine.
"What's next week?" Neville asked excitedly.
"I'm thinking we could do impedimenta, I want to get a good basis of spells sorted before we go onto the bigger stuff."
"Cool, Gran was asking what I'd be learning. She thinks it's great, says it's exactly what she'd do." It was the first time that Harry had ever heard of Neville's grandmother complimenting anyone, but he suspected he knew why. Before he'd been cursed into insanity, Frank Longbottom had been a renowned Auror. She probably thought this was a way that Neville could follow in his father's footsteps.
"Probably best not tell her too much in a letter," Harry warned him. "We think Umbridge might be reading our mail. Don't want her finding out."
"What?" Neville looked horrified, from the safety of his bed Seamus snorted derisively. Harry ignored him.
"She attacked Hedwig," Harry explained, refusing to even look at Seamus. He didn't have the energy to deal with Seamus and wasn't about to let him ruin what had been a really good day. "And she told Filch I was trying to get dungbombs to stop me sending letters. Doubt she'll screen yours too, but you never know."
"I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't realise."
"It's fine, don't worry. Just be careful. She's going to know we're doing something, wouldn't be surprised if she ups her game sooner or later."
It wouldn't just stop at Educational Decrees, Harry knew better than to think that's all she had ready for them. He could not help but look at the scars etched into his right hand. No, this was just the beginning, he knew it. But that was a future for another day, and right now he just wanted to get some sleep. He pulled on his pyjamas and got into bed, pulling out a quill and parchment from his bedside table, preparing his note for Sirius.
Snuffles,
I'm sorry I've not written lately. Hedwig's wing was a bit battered when she got back, so I'm resting her. Not sure why, she's never come back hurt before. Other than that things are good here. We've started making progress with what we talked about and I think everyone's enjoying it.
But I wanted to ask if I could come over for Christmas? You don't have to say yes, but I can't spend it with Umbridge and I thought it'd be good to see you. Know it can't be easy.
I wish we could talk more. It's not the same without you.
Love,
Harry
He checked the letter three times, making sure that there was nothing that would give him away. Apart from insulting Umbridge, which was completely in character, there was nothing that could reveal who Snuffles was, nor that Harry had spent the summer with him. He hated how impersonal the letter was, but it was the best he could do. There was no saying McGonagall wouldn't just use her own owl, and like Moody always said the owls could be intercepted, or worse McGonagall's office could be raided. They were dealing with the Ministry, after all.
When he was satisfied, he folded up the letter and tucked it under his pillow, rolled over and went to sleep.
He didn't get a chance to see Professor McGonagall until they had Transfiguration that Friday. The lesson was as difficult as usual, and Harry just about managed to make his mouse disappear, all apart from its tail which wiggled on the table spiritedly. For the first time that term he wasn't set any extra homework by the strict professor. She dismissed them with her usual curt nod and wave of her arm.
"Professor," Harry said, squeezing past Neville who had been collecting the remains of the mice from their classmates. Professor McGonagall was busily packing her notes away and banishing the instructions she had made on the board. She closed her case with a crisp snap as she turned to look at Harry, her face as expressionless as ever.
"Yes, Potter? What is it?"
"I was wondering if you could help with, er, something? I'm trying to get a letter to London." Nothing on her face revealed that she had understood what the codename meant. He could not say Sirius' name and the rest of the class was beginning to get ready to go, eager to get to the Great Hall after their final lesson of the day. When he thought he was going to have to say something else she spoke, keeping her face blank and her tone as impersonal as ever.
"I think we had best discuss this in my office, Potter." She picked up her case and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Longbottom, put the mice in that cupboard when you're done."
The walk to Professor McGonagall's office was completed in silence. The crowd of students heading for the Great Hall parted as Professor McGonagall walked down the corridor. It never ceased to impress Harry how much respect she commanded around the entire castle. Students from all the houses knew better than to upset Professor McGonagall.
"Take a seat, Potter." Professor McGonagall said curtly, gesturing to the seat opposite her desk. "I take it that by London, you are in fact referring to your godfather?"
"Yes."
"And what exactly is that you would like to talk to him about, Potter?" The question was not accusatory, but Harry could not help but feel a little foolish. Suddenly the idea of wanting to use Professor McGonagall's time to ask Sirius if he could stay for Christmas felt silly, even a waste of her time.
"Er, well, I know he's a bit… lonely, and so I thought it might be good to ask if I could go for Christmas."
"And do you already have a letter?" Professor McGonagall asked, not even skipping a beat.
"Yeah, I wrote it last night."
"Leave it on my desk, I shall ensure that it reaches him."
"You don't think it's a waste of time?"
"On the contrary, Potter. I think it is commendable. Both that you wish to offer your company to a man desperately in need of companionship and that you are not foolish enough to use your owl after certain individuals," she said this with a slightly twisted lip and clear frustration, "have taken it upon themselves to read the letters of students'."
"Is he alright?" Harry asked, unable to stop the question from escaping his lips. This was the first time since the summer he had been able to talk to anyone from the Order without other people listening. Despite being at Hogwarts, he felt almost as cut off as he had done when he was in Privet Drive.
"He is safe," Professor McGonagall answered carefully, "which is what matters. I will be sure to pass it to him myself, you have my word."
"Thank you, Professor. Really, I… I don't like the idea of him being there by himself."
Professor McGonagall eyed him with an uncharacteristic amount of concern. She looked as if she wanted to hug him. He had always admired and respected her, but never had he brought a problem to her door apart from the Philosopher's Stone. Hermione had been right though, just because he was far away from Sirius didn't mean he had to be cut off from his godfather entirely.
"I know, Potter. Believe me when I say that none of us do." There was a moment of silence as Harry refused to look at Professor McGonagall, for he did not want to see the pity on her face. He instead chose to make a fuss of moving his hair out of his eyes.
"What is that on your hand?" His heart stopped. He had forgotten about the scars on the back of his right hand, with the candle light from her desk flickering on his skin they shone pearly white. The very thing he had been avoiding telling her, the very thing he had wanted to keep a secret, was suddenly, painfully out in the open.
"Nothing," he said quickly, but Professor McGonagall had already grabbed his hand and pulled it towards her.
"Would I be right in thinking," Professor McGonagall began, her voice wavering with suppressed fury and her lips pursed so tightly that they almost disappeared. "That this is what you have been doing in your detentions with Dolores Umbridge?"
Harry said nothing, but tugged his hand away from her. If he had not wanted to look at her before, it paled in comparison to how little he wanted to meet her gaze now. Instead he stared at his shoes. It was stupid, he knew that, but he did not want to give Umbridge the satisfaction of knowing that he had told anyone. She was not going to beat him.
When he didn't speak, Professor McGongall continued her voice softer but still retaining its quiet anger. "And why did you not tell me about this?"
"I didn't want her to win." Harry muttered bitterly. She wouldn't understand, but even as the words left his mouth he realised how childish they sounded. How infantile he must seem to her, scars etched into the back of his hand and for what? Pride and because Dudley had shown him bullies did not respond well to being reported to teachers.
"It is not a case of winning, Potter. No teacher in this school has the power to perform such disgusting, medieval acts of punishment on our students. I do not care if she is from the Ministry or not, while you are here you are my responsibility and I will not stand for such draconian behaviour."
"She'll just get Fudge to do another one of those stupid decrees," Harry objected, "probably make that stupid quill compulsory or something."
"She is making you use a blood quill?"
"Maybe. I don't know, I don't know what it's called. It's black and when I write with it," he flexed his right hand, the skin going tort and the white scars becoming more visible than ever. "This happens."
"This cannot and will not stand, Potter. I will not have my students mutilating themselves in detention. If I had known that is the punishment she had laid out for you I would never have allowed you in that office. I will speak to the Headmaster —"
"No!" The shout was so loud that Professor McGonagall's eyebrows shot further up her forehead than Harry had ever seen them travel. "I mean, what's the point? I'm right, aren't I? Fudge will just give her another decree, or kick you out for making too much fuss."
"That is not a reason to allow this to continue."
"I don't think she's doing it to anyone else," Harry shrugged, "just me. So why pick a fight when we're just going to lose?"
That felt like the kind of thing Greengrass would say. Hadn't she done the same to Marietta, picked a fight she knew she could win. It was all about being careful, like Professor McGonagall had told him herself at the start of the year. They were dealing with the Ministry, this was serious. They could get rid of McGonagall and Dumbeldore in an instant and then what would the students do? And for what, a detention that had already happened?
"We can't stop it from happening when it's already happened," Harry added, "so I'll just do what you said, I'll keep hold of my temper and then she can't put me in detention."
"While I applaud your restraint, Potter, this is not something the Headmaster should be unaware of. I will pass on your thoughts," she held up a hand to stop him objecting, "but if you hear of anyone else being given detention by Professor Umbridge you will inform them to come straight to me, or their appropriate Head of House."
The knowing look she gave him told him quite plainly that she was referring to the members of the DA. He had forgotten, until that moment, that she would of course know. If Sirius had found out through Mundungus then so too would Professor McGonagall.
"Yes, Professor."
"We have a duty of care, I cannot ignore that. Yet you are right by saying that we must choose our battles wisely. To do so, we must be kept informed. Therefore, I implore you that if anything like this should happen again to come to me. You may not know this, but blood quills are illegal.
"Your testimony, under normal circumstances, would be enough to have Professor Umbridge dismissed. However, as the Ministry has done a marvellous job discrediting you and because she will no doubt dispose of the quill before a disciplinary hearing can take place, I fear we may have to be more careful. As such, I will inform the Headmaster and we will take matters from there."
"Yes, Professor," Harry said again, more fervently this time. While he doubted that Dumbledore would be interested, for Dumbledore seemed uninterested in anything Harry did these days, he understood where Professor McGonagall was coming from. Whether he liked it or not, they had bigger things to deal with than his feud with Umbridge.
"Good, then if that is all, I will speak to the Headmaster presently and I suggest you have some dinner." Harry nodded and headed for the door, he was about to open it when Professor McGonagall spoke again, "and Potter, your father would be proud of your current activities. Do keep it up, won't you?"
"Thank you, Professor." Harry managed to say before Professor McGonagall nodded and he walked out of her office. As he left he was sure that he had noticed a trace of a smile on her face.