Notes:
During the creation of this chapter I gained a new-found appreciation for fic writers. Well, writers in general, but fic writers suffer for free.
Dialogues are hard to write. You need to juggle around the same scene from various points of view, taking into considerations their personalities and their knowledge. Also you need to construct the speech in such a way not to forget anyone, not to make anyone seem stupid or out of character. More, you need to keep in mind the environment, the plot features and the whole point of the conversation. And still, they don't sound just right as you wanted.
Thank goodness for small blessings that this story is in first-person narrative or I'd go bonkers.
Anyway, through all these struggles, I finally produced a new chapter. Hope you'll like it.
Also, thanks to Runeberg for pointing out a mistake in Susan's name. For some reason no one ever noticed it.
6. Flights
"Great," muttered Harry darkly, staring at a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room. "More time with Malfoy."
That annoying blonde kept getting on my nerves, much more than the twins on their best day, which I didn't believe could be possible. Fred and George were at least trying to be funny and not to genuinely hurt anybody. Malfoy, on the other hand, was just a peacock, belittling everyone just for the sake of it.
Thankfully, first year Gryffindors didn't need to deal with the pest often – only in Potions on Tuesday and Friday. This had been, however, before this offending piece of paper appeared, declaring the start of Flying lessons on the coming Thursday, which were, coincidentally, together with Slytherins.
Flying was something we surely talked about a lot. Malfoy was the loudest with his complaining about first-years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and boasting stories about how he narrowly escaped Muggles in helicopters. Seamus was telling everyone who'd listen how he spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside. Even I joined in trading tales: I shared a story about how I expertly knocked Fred off his broom with mine, making him gracefully fall into the pond. No need to mention that I was standing on the ground at the moment.
That was a common conversation topic, at least among those from wizarding families. I had already had a heated discussion with Dean Thomas about soccer. I tried, I honestly tried, but I just couldn't see the appeal in a game with only one ball and no one flying.
Neville said that his grandmother never let him near a broomstick, though he admitted that he sneaked once anyway and now was much reluctant to repeat the experience.
Granger was as nervous about flying as Neville was – it wasn't something you can learn from books. It didn't mean she hadn't tried though. At breakfast on Thursday she was loudly lecturing on broom riding tips she had gotten from "Quidditch Through the Ages". The only one who appreciated it was Neville, glad for anything that might help him on a broomstick, the others were pretty pleased that she was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.
Harry sighed heavily while looking somewhere behind my back. Even before I turned, I knew what I would see, and being a diviner had nothing to do with it. I rolled my eyes as Malfoy was waving his letter with a smug face. Since the note from Hagrid a week ago, Harry hadn't gotten any mail, a fact that brat quickly noticed and started gloating over his packages with sweets he received regularly.
A barn owl dropped a small package to Neville, who excitedly opened it. Inside was an item that looked like a huge transparent marble with a swirling white smoke within.
"It's a Remembrall!" he explained to us. "It tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. If you hold tightly like this, and if it turns red–," the smoke remained white, "–there's something you've forgotten," he finished, pleased.
"Nice," I said. "Can I– Thanks." I picked up the ball and repeated after Neville. Suddenly, It glowed scarlet, making me blink. "Erm–"
While I was busy trying to remember what it was I had forgotten, someone snatched the orb from behind my back.
"Really!?" I shouted, turning around to see the same annoying face that had been bothering us from across the Hall.
Malfoy opened his mouth, likely to say something stupid, when Professor McGonagall appeared out of nowhere. She could smell trouble quicker than any other teacher.
"What's going on here?"
"He's taken my Remembrall, Professor," Neville said.
The Slytherin boy scowled but dropped the ball onto the table. He lamely mumbled something like "joking" and left, with Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind him.
After Double Charms classes, Harry, I and other Gryffindor first years hurried down the front steps for our first Flying lesson. With our robes blowing in the cold wind, we walked down the sloping ground towards the smooth, flat lawn. Sky was mostly covered with dark clouds.
The Slytherins were already there, waiting, along with twenty or so brooms lying on the ground in two rows. Fred and George often complained about how awful school broomsticks were, but it wasn't them who had to ride on Charlie's old broom. I swear passing butterflies flew faster than that thing. I shook my head. Seriously, Charlie needed to be questioned thoroughly about how he handled his stuff.
Thankfully, Slytherins didn't have time to exchange pleasantries with us as our teacher arrived. Madam Hooch had short gray hair and piercing yellow eyes that scanned all of us scrutinizingly.
"Well, how long am I going to wait?" she asked. "Come on, stand by a broomstick. Hurry up."
I looked down on my broom. It wasn't as bad as I expected, it was clearly worn-out, with a few twigs sticking out, but overall, it was in good shape for a broom likely older than me.
"Now, hold out your hand over your broom," came Madam Hooch's next instruction, "and say 'Up!'"
I refrained from rolling my eyes. I couldn't see what these theatrics were for, but alright.
As a choir of "Up!"s rang around the clearing, only a few brooms responded. Harry's and Malfoy's jumped into their hands at once, while Granger's broom merely rolled around on the grass and Neville's seemed to be shivering more than the boy himself.
On my third attempt, I mustered up my best authoritative voice. "UP!"
I had a split second warning of getting smacked in the nose, but it was nowhere enough to avoid it, especially while still staggering from the phantom pain. So, in a way I got smashed by the broom twice: in the future and in the present. Not pleasant.
That certainly earned its own round of laughter around me. Harry, being the great friend he was, tried his best to stifle his snicker, but failed spectacularly.
"Shut up," I hissed at him.
Then Madam Hooch showed us how to mount brooms properly to prevent sliding off the end while in air. She strode between the rows, correcting our grips. The look on Malfoy's face when he was told he had been doing it wrong for years thrilled me to no end. Unfortunately, the mood didn't last.
"And now, on my signal, you kick off the ground, hard," the teacher further instructed, "Rise a few feet and immediately come back down by learning forward a bit. Ready?– Three– Two–"
Neville, still anxious, sweaty and extremely uncomfortable with the prospect of being suspended in the air, must have lost his nerve as he pushed off the ground with all his might before Madam Hooch's whistle even touched her lips.
"Come back down, now!" she shouted, but Neville kept raising higher and higher. I had a tingling of hope his magic would protect him, like in the story he told us, but–
"He's going to–" Neville slid off the end, and WHAM– a nasty crack echoed when he hit the ground hard before Hooch could even draw her wand. "–fall." I finished with a wince.
Madam Hooch bent down to examine him. "Broken ankle," she muttered, her face white, "Come on, boy– it's gonna be alright, don't move."
With a swirl of her wand, she levitated Neville's body into the air, making him gain a slightly green tint. He had surely had enough flying for the day. Or the month.
She turned to the rest of the class, her expression stern. "'I'm taking this boy to the Hospital Wing! And don't you dare move while I'm gone – the brooms stay where they are, or I swear you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can utter 'Quidditch'. Am I clear? Come on, dear."
Neville, with a tear-stricken face, floated after her like a balloon on a string. I pursed my lips, my eyes following them with worry.
Naturally, silence couldn't last long. As soon as they were out of earshot, Malfoy burst into laughter. "Ha-ha-ha, did you see his face? I can't stop." Other Slytherins didn't hesitate to join in the fun.
"Shut up, Malfoy!" snapped Parvati Patil, a Gryffindor girl of Indian heritage. She had a twin sister, Padma, sorted into Ravenclaw.
Another Slytherin girl, Pansy Parkinson, smiled nastily, "Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom? Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."
Her angry retort was cut off with Malfoy's "Look!" as he bent down and picked something up from the grass. I mentally groaned as I immediately recognized the glass-like orb, glittering in the sunlight. "It's that stupid thing his gran sent him." How did he even know that? He couldn't have been standing behind us for so long at breakfast, could he?
"Wow," I drawled. "For all your bragging about Malfoy's wealth, you'd think you could afford something like that," I couldn't help but taunt him, shaking my head with a sad impression. "Pity," I turned from the sight of his rapidly reddening face to other green-tied students, "How do you sleep with him in one dorm, eh? Don't you worry about your stuff?"
I was pretty sure some Slytherins were actually suppressing their smiles.
"You–!"
"Me," I turned back to Malfoy with a tilted head as if in curiosity.
"Look who's talking, Weasley!" he spat my last name as if it were a curse word. "I was surprised you could even afford a wand. Must have starved a year or two for it. Pity it was such a waste, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, yeah," I waved off his verbal attack, trying my best to act nonchalant and hide how much it actually stung. "Yet, it's not me with sticky fingers here, right?"
Whatever Malfoy wanted to retort back with a face like that, I would never know, as at that moment, Harry spoke up.
"Give it here, Malfoy," he said softly but with a clear threat in both voice and eyes.
He looked back between Harry and me. At that moment, I noticed from the corner of my eyes how Grabbe and Goyle were making their way through the crowd, pushing everyone out of the way.
The blonde's smile turned quite nasty. "No, I don't think I will."
"Malfoy," Harry called a second time.
"I think I'll get it somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about– up a tree?" He suddenly leapt onto his broomstick and shot up the air, quickly gaining altitude. It seemed he hadn't been lying – he could fly well.
He hovered at the edge of the forest, as high as the topmost branches of the trees. "Come and get it, Potter!"
"What a git!" I hissed.
Without an ounce of hesitation, Harry mounted his broom.
"No!" Granger intervened, appearing out of nowhere. "Haven't you heard what Madam Hooch said? You'll get all of us in trouble." I audibly groaned, earning a glare from her. "Besides, you don't even know how to fly!"
However, Harry didn't even spare her a glance as his attention was solely focused on the flying target. Taking a deep breath, he kicked hard against the ground and soared high into the air, leaving the bushy-haired girl to huff, "What an idiot!"
"And you!" she sharply turned to me, "What sort of friend are you? You know full well he's never been on a broom. He'll crash in no time!"
I was getting tired of this girl.
"Nope. I think he'll do just fine," I nodded towards Harry, who was operating the broom almost with the same ease as Malfoy. They were now floating against each other, too far to hear anything.
Suddenly, Harry shot forward like a javelin, making Malfoy leap to the side barely in time. A few Gryffindors started clapping and whistling.
"You didn't know that," she protested weakly after a pause.
I shook my head but didn't answer. I had already reached my quota of the girl for today.
One didn't need to see the future to know that the sky was Harry's element, literally and figuratively. I had nothing to worry about.
To be fair, it's not like mages automatically gained immunity to their element, far from it. It was more like a small bit of instinctual magic that prevented their element from causing them much harm.
For example, I knew for a fact that trying to burn my brother Charlie was a lost cause, unless you're a more powerful fire mage or magical creature. It was harder to tell, but Neville's earth magic must have partially protected him from the impact. I'm fairly sure I'd break more than just an ankle if it were me up there.
Even though air affinity would not prevent Harry from slamming hard into the earth if things went awry, it'd give him enough maneuverability on a broom to make the likelihood of that happening almost negligible.
No matter how fascinating those two dancing around looked, it couldn't go on like that for long. Getting a bit bored, I looked into the future to see how it ends and just in time to catch Malfoy's momentary decision to throw the blasted thing high into the air.
I barely had time to gasp, before the ball actually soared through the sky. To my shock, Harry remained still in the air, waiting for something. However, no sooner had the ball began to descend, he zoomed right after it, gathering speed in a steep dive. With my mouth open and breath held, I watched as he was getting closer and closer until–
The crowd around me erupted in joy, yelling and clapping. I didn't even realize at first that I was one of them as we watched Harry toppled onto the grass, the Remembrall clutched firmly in his grasp.
"HARRY POTTER!" the shrill voice of Professor McGonagall rang through the clearing, making us fall silent. My heart sank.
Harry jumped to his feet in an instant, trembling.
"Never– in all my time at Hogwarts– have I seen such–" I would laugh at how we manage to render the usually collected woman speechless if it didn't mean dire consequences for my friend.
"How dare you– could have broken your neck–"
"It wasn't his fault, Professor–" Parvati tried to argue.
"Be quiet, Miss Patil."
"But wait, Malfoy–" I began, gesturing towards the mentioned Slytherin, once again hiding behind his bodyguards. I hadn't even noticed when he got back on the ground. Likely immediately after the throw, while Harry was distracted. Sneaky git.
"That's enough, Mr. Weasley! Potter–"
At that moment, I grew unexpectedly angry at her dismissive attitude, and I lost all control over my mouth.
"What do you mean 'enough'!?" I rudely interrupted her. "You mean, you don't care that Malfoy blatantly stole Neville's stuff and goaded Harry into the air?! You don't even know what happened, why don't you just shut up and listen! And not just blame Harry for everything, because it is so bloody convenient."
I gulped air, completely out of breath after my tirade.
McGonagall just stood there at a loss for words, completely stunned. And she wasn't the only one either: all the other students gaped at me in pure disbelief. Only then did I realize what I'd just done. I had totally blown up at arguably the strictest teacher in the school who was also the Head of my House. 'That's it, I'm done. Sorry, mom, dad, it seems I'll be home sooner than expected.'
"Are you finished, Mr. Weasley?" I meekly nodded, lips pursed. "Your outburst is uncalled for. While I can understand your frustration, it does not excuse such blatant disrespect. We do not address our professors in such a manner."
She paused briefly, letting her words sink in. Professor's gaze then shifted to Draco Malfoy, narrowing slightly as she assessed the situation.
"I assure you, I've seen more than enough. I passed Madam Hooch and Mr. Longbottom in a corridor, and they filled me in on the situation, so I came here. In fact, I distinctly remember that she absolutely forbade anyone from getting off the ground. So pray tell, how come you two were in the air?" Without waiting for an answer she continued. "You, Mr. Malfoy, should be ashamed of yourself. Rest assured, your Head of House will hear about it. Ten points from Slytherin."
I couldn't resist a triumphant smirk at that.
"Mr. Weasley," she turned back to me. "I will not deduct points from you, however I expect you in my office after dinner, is that clear? You may consider yourself fortunate." I nodded. "As for your friend Mr. Potter, I will deal with his actions separately."
After the whole fiasco, McGonagall clearly didn't trust us to behave ourselves without supervision again, so she waited for Madam Hooch to return before taking Harry with her.
The rest of the lesson was spent in dampened spirits. Slytherin's most annoying trio looking too smug didn't help matters. Under the teacher's instructions, each of us lifted off the ground, made small movements forward and turns, basic things. I didn't really pay attention.
Class had barely been dismissed when I dashed off into the castle, with no wish to hear more caustic comments from Malfoy or, worse, Hermione Granger.
"Are you kidding?" I stared incredulously at Harry when he finished retelling what occurred to him after leaving with McGonagall.
I had managed to catch Harry just as he was leaving her office, and now we were heading to the Great Hall for dinner.
"Nope" he said obnoxiously, enjoying my reaction.
"A seeker!? But you're a first year! First years never– it would make you the youngest seeker in–"
"A century. Yep. Wood told me," he beamed at me.
I just gaped at him, until a thought stuck. "Wait. Hold on," I paused. "You mean to tell me I blew up at McGonagall for nothing!?" I groaned and grabbed my head.
"Oh, yeah," Harry only now seemed to recollect that little detail. "What the heck was that?"
"I don't know, alright?" I was mentally berating my big mouth. "She just didn't want to listen to anyone. It looked like she straight up accused you of everything."
"Well," he fumbled for a moment. "Thank you. For standing up for me." He looked completely lost, as if he didn't know how to react.
"Don't mention it." I sighed. "I'll have to apologize to her, I guess."
Harry nodded and was going to say something more, when Fred and George appeared in the corridor.
"Look who we've got here. If it's not the lad with the biggest balls in Gryffindor," said George.
"And we were starting to worry you'd end up as Percy The Second."
I cried, mortified. "How the bloody hell have you heard of it already?"
"Wood told us," Fred winked at me. "Speaking of which," he dropped his voice. "Well done, Harry, well done. We're on the team too– Beaters."
"We're surely going to win that Gryffindor Cup this year, I tell you," said George. "You must be great, Harry. Wood was almost skipping."
"Anyway, we got to go, Lee claims he's found another secret passageway out of the school."
"I bet you it's the one behind that mirror on the fourth floor we found in our second month. See you."
We stood there dumbfounded, watching them until they disappeared. I made a mental note to search for that mirror.
We had barely taken a step forward when someone else, far less welcome this time, turned up: Malfoy and his cheering squad.
"Ready for your last meal, Potter? Packed already, I hope. Wouldn't want you to be late for your train back to the Muggles," Malfoy said in a patronizing tone.
"I see you're much more brave now with your little friends here" said Harry darkly. I wanted to applaud, there was nothing really little about Grabbe and Goyle. Thankfully, the two henchmen just stood there, cracking their knuckles menacingly, for now.
The corridor was more deserted than I hoped, and it seemed to be emptying out as time passed. I worried distractedly if it was really this far into the mealtime. There were no teachers around to prevent a fight from breaking out.
Glimpsing into the future didn't yield much, as I had expected. Generally, conversations were too chaotic to be able to predict much, though I got a gist of what Malfoy intended to offer.
"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only—no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"
I snorted loudly in response. "Oh, don't worry, we'll be there. After all, can't miss you running away again, like scared puppies." A smug smile broke across my face as Malfoy's expression twitched.
In retrospect, It was really foolish of me to provoke them like that, but I couldn't resist. While Harry showed great potential as a mage, I doubted he would pose much of a challenge in a straight fight against all three of them at once.
The gorillaz behind Malfoy scowled further and made a menacing step forward, almost in sync. However, the blonde ringleader halted them with a mere gesture. "Quite, boys. We don't want to dirty our hands with the likes of them, right?"
Under normal circumstances, I would have admired the level of training those two must have undergone. But at the moment, I was too preoccupied looking through every future I could think of. One vision stood out, where some of my particularly cutting taunts caused the temperature around us to rise rapidly. It seemed, someone had a high fire affinity.
Unfortunately, despite Malfoy's claims, about half of the scenarios I saw resulted in actual violence. I tried to sever the visions before blows reached me, but a few lucky shots still managed to get through. I gritted my teeth, determined not to reveal any reactions to the pain. It must be pretty bizarre from an outside perspective – being hurt by something that hadn't happened yet and likely never would.
"Malfoy, was there a point you were trying to make?" asked Harry, sounding bored. His voice was laced with subtle sarcasm, clearly indicating his overall lack of interest in the Slytherin's antics.
Frustration twisted Malfoy's face at Harry's dismissive response.
Suddenly I was brought to a halt. I did a double take at the last vision that flashed before me. A smirk blossomed on my face as a simple plan formed in my mind.
"For the more mentally challenged, I'll explain. I thought a duel would be a perfect chance to prove, once and for all, that you're nothing more than a second-rate wizard at best," Malfoy proclaimed, quickly regaining his composure.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? And what would I get if I win? Your admiration?"
Simultaneously following their verbal blows and checking, rechecking the futures to ensure I got my timing right was certainly quite taxing.
"You won't need to worry about that. Rest assured, the humiliation you'll face after I defeat you will be enough."
"Awfully confident, aren't we, Malfoy?–"
It was my cue to chime in. Boldly stepping closer to Malfoy, but slightly to the left, I ignored how his bodyguards tensed and spoke with a slightly raised voice. "So, let me get this straight, Malfoy. You were too much of a coward to do anything in broad daylight, so you challenged Harry into a duel in the middle of the night?" I took another step, bringing myself right into his face. "What's the matter? Scared to embarrass yourself in front of witnesses?"
His face turned red with rage. "You think you're so clever, Weasley?" his voice dripped with venom. "Just wait and see, I'll wipe that smug smile off your face. Mark my words."
He looked back at Harry and spat, "Tonight. The Trophy Room. At midnight. Clear?"
"Crystal," an icy voice rang through the air. However it wasn't Harry who had spoken.
Startled, Slytherins turned around to see my older brother stepping out from behind the corner. Malfoy's face went pale as his eyes fell on a prominent silver badge on Percy's chest. The prefect's face was contorted in a fierce glare, a menacing aura surrounded his towering figure, making us all shiver. Percy had that effect on people.
"What is the meaning of this?" he asked softly.
"I–"
"I've heard enough, Mr. Malfoy," Percy cut him off mercilessly. "Fifteen points from Slytherin. Both Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall will be informed of your actions, and they'll decide your punishment. Dismissed." The last command was spoken with an air of finality, prompting them to hurriedly escape, almost on reflex.
As he returned to Harry and me, he said, "And no duels at night for you two! Am I understood?" He waited for our eager nods before steel in his eyes vanished, replaced with something else. He rubbed his forehead. "Let's go. I'll accompany you to the Great Hall. Or you'll get in trouble again."
We silently moved forward in the direction of the long-awaited dinner. "Thanks, Percy," I broke the awkward silence.
"It's my responsibility as a prefect," he replied. "Actually, Ron, it's good that I found you. I've been looking for you."
I barely held back a groan as yet another person intended to reprimand me. "No, it's not about your shameful outburst towards esteemed Professor McGonagall. I'm sure she'll set you straight herself," he clarified, noticing my surprised look. "I still haven't gotten your letter home. It's Thursday, and I was going to send them all after dinner."
My heart sank as Percy's words hit me. It completely slipped my mind.
"Er… I… I forgot," I admitted with a wince. As someone who had been staying at home with mom for so long while everyone else was at school, I knew full well how she could get if, Merlin forbid, one of her children didn't write on time.
"No worries, you can get it after dinner or–"
"No, I mean I haven't written it yet."
Percy's expression shifted into one of disappointment. "Ron, you know better than that. Mother and father worry about you, about all of us. It's thoughtless to forget such a simple task."
I hung my head, properly ashamed. Just as I was about to apologize, Harry interjected. "Hey, Ron, why don't you deliver it later with Hedwig? She doesn't have much better to do anyway," he suggested with a shrug.
My face lit up, "Thanks, Harry! I'll just owl it separately, then, either today or tomorrow morning. I promise."
"Well, as long as you write your letter right away and send it off, it'll be fine," my brother conceded, leaving it at that.
Unbeknownst to me, we had arrived in the Great Hall while I was caught up in my thoughts. Briskly wishing Harry and me a good meal, Percy marched towards the staff table, like a man on a mission. He kind of was.
I was in the middle of thoroughly enjoying my piece of steak and kidney pie when my blissful and long-awaited peace was interrupted once again.
"Excuse me."
We both looked up from our plates. The one calling us was Hermione Granger.
"When will this day finally end?" I groaned, putting my fork down with a clatter. Judging by Harry's expression, he shared the same sentiment. Granger completely ignored me and turned to Harry.
"I couldn't help overhear some people talking about the duel between you and Malfoy. Is it true?"
"Maybe. What's it to you?" he replied in a dull voice.
"That you mustn't go wandering the school at night. Think of all the house points you'll lose Gryffindor, if you'll get caught, and you will. It's really very selfish of you."
I scoffed inwardly. She must have taken us for idiots if she really believed we were going to carry on with this blasted idea of a midnight stroll. Still, I was not in the mood to dissuade her of anything.
"You know, it's really none of your business," Harry brushed her off and returned his attention to his meal.
After dinner, I made my way through the corridors of the first floor, my mind preoccupied with the upcoming conversation with Professor McGonagall. As I reached her office, a place I hoped not to see so soon, I stood in front of a simple mahogany door.
With a mix of anticipation and apprehension, I raised my hand and knocked. The sound echoed through the hallways, while I waited anxiously for a response.
The interior of the office looked about the same as one would expect, but at the same time, not quite. Professor McGonagall was sitting behind her desk, surrounded by shelves filled with books and magical artifacts. However, what caught my eye first was a large fireplace with a few fancy armchairs to the side. They faced a row of windows overlooking the Training Ground and the Quidditch pitch.
"Take a seat, Mr. Weasley," the professor calmly called me, with a gesture pointing me to a chair across from her. I complied.
The silence lingered as I awkwardly waited, my hands firmly on my knees, while I examined the intricate carved patterns adorning the dark wooden table.
Finally, Professor McGonagall put the last sheet of parchment aside and took off her glasses. "Tea?"
I blinked dumbly, immediately wanting to refuse purely out of courtesy. But one look from her told me that objections would not be accepted. I gave a meek nod.
From somewhere beneath the desktop, Professor McGonagall produced a tray with a porcelain tea set. Ever so gently, she lifted the teapot of brewed tea and poured it into two cups. "Sugar? Lemon? Milk?"
"Er– a spoonful of sugar, thanks," I said, still utterly confused. Surely she didn't invite me for a nice tea party after my actions towards her.
My incredulity only deepened as I witnessed how she poured an enormous amount of milk into her own cup. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that McGonagall preferred her milk with tea.
She must have caught my stare, as she asked me, "Do you know what an Animagus is, Mr. Weasley?"
Thinking it's a kind of test, I racked my brain for the term mentioned in one of her lectures. However much I tried, I couldn't remember anything. "No, Professor," I responded, with my head down.
"I didn't expect you to. It's not mentioned in the curriculum until the third year. Drink, drink," she reminded me of my untouched cup of tea.
As I sipped the tea, which had a rich and unfamiliar flavor I couldn't place, the professor continued, "An Animagus is a practitioner of shapeshift magic who has fully mastered an animal form. My preferred shape, as it happens, is feline in nature."
To emphasize her point, she lifted her hand, and right before my eyes, it transformed into a clawed appendage with gray fur, taking on a more cat-like appearance while still retaining humanoid shape. I watched in awe as her nails turned into deadly weapons. With barely a flex of will, she reverted the changes and went back to her tea as if nothing had happened.
"Wicked!" I blurted out in astonishment before I could stop myself.
"Thank you," she graciously accepted the praise, subtly lifting the corner of her mouth.
"However," she continued, "as a side effect, some… cat-like mannerisms might leak through even in my human form. For example, I have acquired a strong liking for milk and seafood."
My imagination immediately conjured a ridiculous picture of McGonagall drinking her milk with her tongue like a cat. I shook my head. "Professor? It's all very interesting, but… I don't understand what–"
"Mr. Weasley," she cut off my mumbling. "I've been teaching in this school for thirty five years. I assure you, I've seen my fair share of troublemakers. It does not mean such behavior will be tolerated," her voice and face turned hard at the last words. "However, it's quite understandable. We all have different personalities after all, different abilities."
I didn't like where this was going.
"There are several theories arguing about whether it's a person's magic that affects their character traits or vice versa, whether an individual's personality determines their magical inclinations. Regardless, it's clear that those two aspects are closely intertwined. It's certainly not an excuse for not keeping your temper in check, though it's something that must be taken into consideration."
I closed my eyes, feeling a sinking sensation in my gut as I finally understood what the professor was implying. It was a temptingly convenient reason to hide behind, but it was so far from the truth, it wasn't funny.
"I– I'm sorry, Professor, but you got it wrong," I admitted. "I don't have Charlie's fiery temperament or anything like that. So no, it was fully my fault. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I just thought you were being unfair to Harry, and I– I was wrong." How could I have known that she was going to make him a Seeker!?
"Well," McGonagall started with a sigh after a bit of silence, "I appreciate your honesty, then. Still, no matter the circumstances, I cannot overlook your behavior. Five points from Gryffindor. I expect better control of your temper in the future."
I solemnly nodded, privately thinking I had got off easy. "Yes, Professor McGonagall."
She nodded approvingly. "Now, I suggest you get back to your common room and enjoy the rest of the evening."
I quickly gulped down the remaining cold tea in one go and stood up from the table. Just as I was about to touch the doorknob, McGonagall's voice called me back. "Also, Mr. Weasley," she said, "five points to Gryffindor for standing up for your friend. Good night."
A bit dazed, I left her office and closed the door behind me. Fortunately, there was no one around to witness my thunderstruck expression. I couldn't suppress the feeling that I had just been pranked. I was feeling a weird mix of relief and incredulity.
Nevertheless, Professor McGonagal had raised an interesting point. For the first time in my life, I contemplated what being a diviner said about myself. That I was curious? The Sorting Hat had mentioned something about a thirst for knowledge…
I shook my head. I'll ponder on it all later. Now what did twins say about a secret passage behind a mirror?
Notes:
You may congratulate me — I've finally found my beta, GulSki9. Or rather, it was him who've found me. Either way, he'd been a huge help for this chapter and hopefully for many others to come.
Also, the story is cross posted on AO3, just so you know.