"Harry stop where you are. This is not on, you can't do that!"
Harry ignored Percy Weasley, brushing past him to get away from the crowd that had gathered to listen to the stupid Valentines message Lockhart's stupid gnome had tried to deliver. Malfoy had deserved it, he thought to himself. He shouldn't be trying to steal a diary from Harry, even if it wasn't Harry's own.
"Mister Potter!"
Harry froze, this was not good. McGonagall must have heard the disruption from her classroom and come to investigate the noise. From the tone of her voice, she had seen Harry stun Malfoy, or ignore Percy, or both. He closed his eyes for a second, feeling the crowd shift around him. A second year Hufflepuff gave a vicious laugh, and Harry couldn't even muster the energy to glare at them.
"Come back here, if you please, Potter."
Harry turned, and returned to the thick of the crowd, his wrecked satchel in his hands. McGonagall did not look impressed. She fixed Harry with a stern look, before getting down on one knee next to Malfoy.
"Rennervate."
Malfoy lurched into wakefulness, looking confused. "What?"
McGonagall held out a hand, which Malfoy took, still confused and allowed McGonagall to help pull him to his feet.
"Potter, Malfoy, and Weasley, please accompany me to my classroom. Everybody else will continue to their next class. Now."
Students disappeared in a matter of moments, eager to get away from the irate Depute Headmistress. Malfoy picked his bags up off the floor, rubbing at his head as he did so. Percy was frowning at Harry, obviously irritated at having been ignored.
McGonagall led the way to the Transfiguration classroom, which Harry and Malfoy had just left. A class of sixth years was waiting in the corridor, including Oliver Wood, who nodded half-heartedly at Harry. McGonagall ignored them, so they stayed in the corridor as the three other students entered.
Striding to the front of the classroom, McGonagall turned to face the three of them, who stopped short a few meters away. Harry felt like a first year again, in trouble for being late on the first day of classes.
"Mr Weasley, explain, if you would?"
Percy stood up straight and puffed out his chest a little. Harry rolled his eyes, and froze when McGonagall caught him doing so, her eyebrow arched, and Harry ducked his head a little, abashed.
"Certainly, Professor. I was on my way to class when I came across Harry trapped under one of those Valentine's Gnomes. It was reciting some silly little poem. Malfoy was one of the students listening and he was a little rude to my sister, and tried to take something from Harry's bag and it spilled all over the floor. Harry got cross, and stunned Malfoy and just walked away."
"Did Mr Malfoy draw his wand?" McGonagall asked.
"Didn't have the chance to, Professor." Percy said, with a quick glance at Harry, who felt a little guilty. He still felt Malfoy had deserved it for being mean to Ginny though, and for trying to take that diary.
"Is that correct, Mr Malfoy?" McGonagall asked.
"I only said that the Weasley girl probably wrote the stupid Valentine. I wouldn't want anything of Potter's anyway." Malfoy said, cheeks flushed. "And I didn't draw my wand, Professor."
"No, I understand that, Mr Malfoy."
Harry's hands found their way into his pockets, and he had to force them back out again. He didn't want McGonagall to think he was being disrespectful to her.
"Mr Potter, anything to add?"
"No, Professor." Harry said, and surprised himself by how sulky his voice sounded.
"In that case, Mr Malfoy, you may return to your morning classes. Potter as you have a free period, you will meet me at my office after this class has ended. Return to your common room until then. Mr Weasley, please bring in the rest of the class."
Harry and Draco left the room together, having been dismissed.
"Now you're for it, Potter." Malfoy said nastily as they both headed for the Grand Staircase. Harry repressed the urge to stand on the back of the other boy's shoes. "Snape's got nothing on McGonagall- so the fifth years say."
"Maybe she just hates Slytherins, the way Snape doesn't pull his punches with the Gryffindors."
"Snape 'pulls his punches' with everyone, Potter. Just not enough." Malfoy said flatly, and Harry believed him.
"Enjoy." Malfoy said sarcastically, heading down the staircase, towards whatever his next class was.
Harry did have a free period, so returned to the common room to be met by a curious look from Ron, who was sitting with Ginny by the fire. Ron looked quite awkward, like he didn't know what to say. Ginny was sitting on the floor by his feet, slowly tearing a sheet of parchment into tiny pieces. Harry didn't think it was his place to interrupt them, so sat at the other side of the common room, trying to repair his satchel satisfactorily. He didn't fancy carrying around all of his books until he could order a new one using Hedwig.
Five minutes before the end of the class period, Harry stood up with his bag.
"You going to lunch?" Ron asked, hopefully, ready to get up from his chair.
"Um, no, sorry. Got to meet McGonagall." Harry rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly. "She wasn't best pleased that I stunned Malfoy."
Ron grimaced, "I can imagine. Good luck mate. At least you got him good"
"Yeah, I guess." Harry said, half-heartedly. He couldn't help but remember that Malfoy hadn't had his wand ready. "See you downstairs?"
"Sure thing."
Harry had been to McGonagall's office only once before, when she had wanted to talk to Wood about Harry joining the quidditch team. He almost walked straight past the door, without recognising it.
Stopping abruptly, as he noticed the plaque with McGonagall's name on, Harry knocked three times, not giving himself the chance to catch his breath, or lose his courage. There was no answer, and Harry wondered nervously whether he should knock again.
Just as he was dithering in the corridor, the school bell rang, and Harry remembered that McGonagall had been teaching a class – of course she wasn't waiting in her office.
Harry waited, leaning against the wall. A class of Ravenclaws passed as a group, escorted by Professor Flitwick towards lunch. A few gawped openly at Harry, who glared back at them, he seemed to have very little patience today.
There was the clicking of heels along the stone corridor, and Harry stood up straight in time to see McGonagall come around the corner. She marched up to the door, unlocking it with a key from her pocket. She pushed the door open, but paused to inspect Harry carefully.
"Come along." McGonagall's voice was crisp, and Harry took a steadying breath, before following the witch into the office and closing the door behind him.
The office was quite plain, but there were hangings on the wall, in deep burgundy and browns, and rugs on the stone floor under McGonagall's big desk, which took up the majority of the floorspace. A large fire was set in the grate, near to some kind of astronomy instrument.
"So, Potter," McGonagall turned to face him, clasping her hands in front of herself, "Would you care to tell me what possessed you to attack Mr Malfoy this morning?"
Harry bit his lip, he had been squirming in anticipation of this dressing down for the last forty minutes. "I don't really know Professor. I was angry about the Gnomef, and there's been a few of them already today, and then Malfoy was horrible to Ginny Weasley, and then he went for my stuff, and I just kind've… lost it."
"You 'lost it'?" McGonagall did not look impressed. "Do you feel that is a suitable reason to render an unarmed classmate unconscious in the corridors?"
"No, Professor." Harry's gut twisted uncomfortably.
"Do you feel like you stood up for Gryffindor values? Represented our house in the way we wish to be seen by the rest of the school?"
"I wasn't really thinking about Gryffindor at the time, Professor." Harry said, awkwardly.
"Well do so now." The witch's mouth thinned. "Was it chivalrous to allow Miss Weasley to leave alone and upset? Was it courageous to enchant a person without a wand in their hand? Was it noble to leave him there without the opportunity to retaliate?"
"No, Professor. It wasn't very Gryffindor of me, I'm sorry." Harry admitted.
"I'm glad you agree, Potter." McGonagall regarded Harry for a long minute, until he began to have to fight off the urge to squirm. "As we are agreed- you shall lose thirty house points for your insubordination of a house prefect, and your disregard for an opponent's wellbeing. I also expect you to apologise to Mr Malfoy, and given how publicly you attacked him, this will be in either in the great hall, or in front of a class of at least Gryffindor and Slytherin students, before the weekend."
"Yes, Professor." Harry nodded to emphasise his point.
"Now," McGonagall's voice had taken on a distinctly different tone, more business-like. "We still have to address the issue of you attacking an unarmed classmate without warning."
Harry cringed a little. Malfoy was nowhere near as innocent at McGonagall was making out, but it had been a pretty awful thing to do anyway- the sort of thing Harry would expect Malfoy to do to him.
"Would you agree, Potter that this constitutes the use of magic in a deliberately harmful manner?"
Harry stood for a long moment avoiding McGonagall's eyes, but she didn't object. His eyes strayed to the desk – were this Snape's office, the school ledger would already be out, waiting.
"I…" Harry stuttered and stopped and pushed his gasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Yes, I suppose so, Professor."
"Good," McGonagall said, voice crisp. "And you are aware of the consequences of such an action?"
Harry swallowed, squaring his shoulders a little. "Yes, Professor."
McGonagall watched him for a moment, before nodding to herself. She walked across the room, with no warning and retrieved a book from a shelf. Harry recognised it as a twin to the school ledger which Snape had. Unsurprisingly, this one was a deep maroon, rather than the green of the other.
"No doubt you are well used to the formalities by now." McGonagall said, using a bookmark to open the book to the correct page. "You have only been seen by Professor Snape so far, but you have seen him more than once even this year."
Harry felt 'seen by' was a bit of an underwhelming euphemism, but held his tongue. McGonagall was not waiting for a reply, and was already scratching with a quill, to fill in the details on the page.
"You have not so far experienced a tawse," McGonagall continued, sparing a glance for Harry, who tried not to flinch as his stomach clenched anxiously. "I would warn you that it is likely to be more painful immediately, and will be unpleasant for a few days while you are writing in lessons."
Harry nodded, jaw clenched, that was similar to what Fred and George had said when they spoke about the differences between Snape's cane and McGonagall's strap.
"Sign please." McGonagall handed him the quill and he checked the book-'3' it said. Harry signed.
"Which is your wand hand?" McGonagall asked, busy putting the book away.
"Right." Harry said, wiping the sweat off said hand against his school robes.
"Bag on the chair, roll up your sleeves, then put your hands out in front of you, left on top." The professor instructed, fetching something from her desk drawer.
Harry clenched his hands into fists, nervously, then relaxed them again. He did as she asked, feeling a bit like that picture of Oliver Twist, asking for more. His arms twitched as she turned back to him, and he saw the tawse in her hands. It was a strip of leather, maybe 2 feet long, and a couple of inches wide. One half of it had been split lengthways, so that there were two strands.
Harry took a deep breath. McGonagall took hold of one of his wrists with one hand, probably to stop him from pulling away.
"Swap your hands over each time," She said. She glanced up at Harry, who was staring wide eyed. After a moment, he managed to nod.
McGonagall raised the arm with the tawse in it high, and Harry turned his head away, whilst trying to keep his hands still.
"Ah!" Harry gasped. Oh, that was sore. Very sore. McGonagall had let go of his wrist, and Harry shook his hand out, wincing as the skin stretched. The professor's hand came out again, waiting.
Harry held his out again, before remembering, and swapping his hands over.
Again, the tawse raised, and came down with a slapping noise.
"Ow-" Harry grimaced and swapped his hands quickly, eager to get this over with.
"Ah!" Harry pulled his hands away, shaking them cautiously and the professor let him.
McGonagall withdrew, giving Harry more space. He flexed his fingers carefully, wincing at the pain there. His palms had turned bright red, and there were lines standing out across his fingers showing where the straps had hit. His hands curled in, and his fingers trembled slightly, he was very aware of his heartbeat pulsing in time with the pain.
Writing in his afternoon classes was going to be really quite uncomfortable. Not to mention Quidditch practice in the evening.
"I am disappointed in your actions today, Mr Potter." McGonagall said, moving to place the tawse back in the desk. "I understand you were frustrated by the Gnomes, but there are better ways to manage this. I want you to think about how you could have handled it more maturely."
"On another note, we appoint prefects to act as our representatives when staff are otherwise occupied. The disrespect that you showed to Mr Weasley is not to be repeated in any circumstance. He was acting in accordance with the rules, to try to ensure the safety of the students. You reflect poorly on our house when you disrespect our representatives. As a friend to his family – I believe you even stayed with them for part of the summer?- you repay his mother poorly when you act disrespectfully towards her son."
Harry swallowed. He was so used to the other Weasley children making fun when Percy acted officiously that it had become a bit of a habit for him too. Mrs Weasley would have been upset if she had found out Harry had picked that up from the twins – and she was very proud of Percy being a prefect. "You're right Professor, I'll apologise to Percy too."
"Good." McGonagall nodded approvingly.
Harry's palms itched fiercely.
"I will see what we can do about getting rid of those ridiculous Gnomes. Do you think you will be able to make it through lunch without causing another ruckus?"
"Er, yeah, I suppose so." Harry grimaced, he had put up with some of the valentines today, he supposed a few more would be manageable if they were done with by the afternoon. A sudden thought struck him, "Could I borrow a matchstick Professor?"
The witch raised an eyebrow, "Branching out into Arson, Potter?"
"No!" Harry blurted. "Er, my bag is still broken. I have a little thread, but I've lost my needle, but you taught us matchstick to needle, but I don't have any matchsticks either…"
"…And you want to sew it back together?" She asked.
"Yes- until I can get another, anyway."
"Show me?"
Harry grabbed his bag from the chair with both hands, showing her the large rent in the front seam. McGonagall drew her wand and performed a quick charm – a variation on Reparo, Harry thought, and the seam sewed itself back up neatly. Harry tugged gently at it, admiring the security.
"Thank you." He said gratefully.
McGonagall was already halfway across the room, sifting through another drawer. Harry's heart leapt for a moment, worried that she was going to fetch the tawse again, but she returned only a moment later with a book. Not that book.
"Here, Potter. Everyday Charms and Transfigurations for the Young Apprentice. Chapter Three is particularly useful for clothes alterations. I recommend the Hat Knitting Spell for winter. I would like it back before the end of term, please."
Harry blinked at the book, it had a cheery looking witch on the front who was ironing her robes with a spell. "Thank you."
"Enjoy your lunch. Do not forget to seek out Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy."
"Yes Professor, Good morning." Harry tucked the book carefully into his neatly repaired bag and made his exit.