wumbologymumbo - thanks for your comment. I'm really grateful you like my story :).
XII
Scorpius didn't finish packing his luggage when Zachary attacked him with many questions. Almost half of the students saw Scorpius coming to King's Cross in Gryffindor's company, so there was no point in denying it.
"I'm Potter's friend, okay?" Scorpius said with irritation, sitting on an empty seat.
"You know that Gryffindors will eat you alive, some Slytherins also," Zack commented.
"They can try. We will see who bites harder."
Zachary sat in front of him and watched with disbelief when the vile smile appeared on Scorpius' face.
"Sometimes you terrify me," the blond added after a while.
When Scorpius came for breakfast the next morning, he felt many curious eyes on his back. However, he tried to act as if he didn't notice them at all. Because he didn't react in any way and didn't create a new purpose for gossip, in the end, talks turned toward the new Quidditch league season.
It seemed, luckily, everyone quite quickly forgot about Scorpius and his new relationship with Gryffindors. However, it was only an illusion because when Scorpius left the classroom after the last lesson, he met with very unwanted company: Dean Westwood and his two blocks, whose names Scorpius didn't remember.
He wanted to make some acid comment on that meeting, but the Gryffindor was faster and hit him in the guts. The Slytherin doubled over and grunted, unable to catch his breath, but didn't have time to react when the next blow came toward his knees, so he lost his balance and fell to the floor. The next two slams reached his head and back, and then Scorpius felt that Westwood reached into his pocket and pulled out Scorpius' wand.
"That lizard thinks he is a wizard," the Gryffindor mocked. "Probably, he forgot where his place is."
Westwood leaned over and grabbed Scorpius by the hair, forcing the Slytherin to look at them.
"Don't think you can be equal to us, you scam!"
"You are right," Scorpius hissed through clenched teeth." We aren't equal because I would never lower to your level."
Because of his sharp tongue, Scorpius got the next hit in the jaws. He had to admit that Westwood was strong. Scorpius was sure that he felt a movement of a few teeth.
"It seems you need a proper lesson," Dean said and waved the wand in front of Scorpius' face. "I take it. If you want it back, tomorrow morning, you will come for breakfast and solemnly apologise for your behaviour. If not, your wand will end up in the fireplace."
Westwood's buddies began to laugh, and all three of them walked toward their Dormitory with Scorpius' wand.
Scorpius, for a long moment, lay on the floor and tried to calm down. He knew something like that would happen, and he was prepared, so despite the pain, he managed to smile mischievously. Dean Westwood would have a very unpleasant surprise.
"On Merlin's bear, what had happened, Malfoy?!" McGonagall asked when, a little later, Scorpius came to her office. Unfortunately, he didn't have enough time to heal his jaw properly. It didn't hurt, but a big blue mark was still visible.
Scorpius said nothing, only shrugged.
Probably, the Headmaster guessed the rest because she only shook her head with disapproval.
"It's the second time you come here in such a pitiful state, and I hope you won't get used to it. Go to the Hospital Wing."
"There is no need for that. I fixed it myself. Only bruises left."
"Who did it to you?"
Scorpius sat on his usual spot and began to look through the book.
"No one. I had fallen from the stairs," he said, not looking at McGonagall.
"Of course." The irritation was hard to miss in the Headmaster's tone. "Do you think that covering an aggressor will help with anything?"
"It was an accident. Nothing serious happened," Scorpius concluded, still looking somewhere to the side.
He didn't want to lie to the Headmaster, but he knew that if he told the truth, and she would punish Gryffindors, everything would be worse. He preferred to resolve it by himself, the way Westwood and his blocks never forgot that.
McGonagall rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply.
"I don't want to see tomorrow that you repaint those stairs on the green in revenge," she added.
Scorpius moved his eyes to the women. Her expression told him everything.
"Never cross my mind."
Scorpius didn't know when his relationship with McGonagall reached a level where he could allow himself to be sarcastic. Moreover, it seemed the Headmaster didn't mind because, after a while, her expression softened. On the other hand, her trust depended on it. She knew someone beat Scorpius, and she understood that he wouldn't leave without a response, but she believed that he didn't do anything truly harmful. And despite his vile, Slytherin nature, Scorpius was going to reach her expectations, even though there was a part of him which wanted to break every bone in Dean Westwood's body.
"I hope you rested during the holiday break. Many difficult tasks are waiting for you," McGonagall changed the subject, looking at the books on the desk.
Scorpius considered for a moment if the Headmaster knew with whom he spent the holiday, but quickly, he assumed that if half of the school knew about it, it was impossible that nothing came to McGonagall's ears.
"There were around fifteen people. It was hard to catch a breath in that crowd," Scorpius replied, smirking, but after that, he added more seriously. "But I have met my cousin, who I didn't know even existed."
The Headmaster looked at him with a question.
"Ted Lupin, the grandson of Andromeda Black."
"Indeed. I forgot that Nymphadora was your father's cousin."
Scorpius nodded. It was a little sad that even McGonagall knew more about his family than he did.
"My father had never spoken about that part of our family."
McGonagall watched him closely for a moment as if she wasn't sure if she should tell him something more, but then she sighed, took off her glasses, and said with a low tone:
"The Black family was well known because of their attachment to the black magic and pure blood hierarchy. Everyone who didn't agree with their ideas was erased from the family tree. It was the fate of Andromeda because she was in love with a muggle-born wizard. The same happened with her cousin Sirius because he was against using black magic. They both paid a huge price for their beliefs.
Hearing that, Scorpius thought about his father and what he said the last time they met.
"I think my father regrets that he blandly followed those ideas in the past. He never speaks about it openly, but I know he doesn't want to see me doing the same. Maybe if he had found more courage…"
"Don't think about him too harshly," McGonagall stopped him." Remember that he was a child then, not much older than you now. He was influenced by Voldemort, other Death Eaters, and his father. In those circumstances, it needed a really strong will to resist. It was a very dark episode in our history. Many adults didn't fulfil their responsibilities, and children had to fight for their lives."
After the last of McGonagall's words, there was a long, heavy silence in the office. From the time when Scorpius found out about his father's past, he had always seen only cowardice in it. He never thought about how he would have acted in the same situation. Now, he wasn't so sure that he would find enough courage. Fighting with the mighty dark wizard was something completely different from quarrels with Gryffindors.
However, it was the Gryffindor students that caused many of Scorpius' problems. The next morning, when Scorpius walked for breakfast in the middle of the corridor, Dean Westwood caught him. The Gryffindor was furious and visibly tired, and he didn't even notice that Scorpius wasn't alone that time. Walking next to the Scorpius, Zack almost immediately pulled out his wand and targeted it at an aggressive boy. The annoying, pinched whistle that accompanied Westwood was also hard to miss.
First, Scorpius pulled over Dean Westwood's hands, and then he placed his hand on Zack's shoulder, making his roommate lower his wand.
"Take back that crap!" Dean barked, pulling into Scorpius' hand the wand he had stolen the previous day.
When Westwood pulled out the wand from his pocket, the whistled sound became hard to stand.
"It will come back to you, nonetheless," Scorpius said calmly.
"For your safety, better not!"
Scorpius sighed a little theatrically and shook his head.
"It seems you don't understand what is going on. It is a simple anty-thief charm. It has begun to work from the moment you took my wand, and only you can stop it."
Westwood looked at him with a mix of hate and dismay.
"How?"
"There are two ways to do it. The first one: someone needs to steal it from you. The second: you give it back to the owner and sincerely apologise."
The grimace that was painted on Gryffindor's face increased Scorpius' mood.
"In your dreams!" Westwood barked, and he turned around and disappeared into one of the corridors. After a few seconds, the whistled wand vanished from Scorpius' hand.
"What was that?" Zachary asked.
"Punishment for insolence," Scorpius replied with a mischievous grin, and then he began to walk towards the Great Hall. In the meantime, he explained: "I was sure that they would try to bully me, so I copied my wand because it was their favourite target. That copy is useless; it's only a piece of wood without the core, but I put a protection charm on it. It would stick to the theft, and it would whistle. You can't throw it away because it will return to you, and you can't give it to someone, the owner excluded, but then you have to show regret. The silencing charm is also useless because the copy wand isn't a living being."
"Can't you simply destroy it?"
"You can, but you have to use quite powerful charms. Otherwise, it will work as if you throw it away. You will find it after a while, but it will whistle louder. Westwood must have destroyed it a few times already because it wasn't so loud before."
Zack looked at him with disbelief.
"Geez, where did you find such tricks?"
"The Basic Defensive Charm. I think it was in volume six. My visits to the library are useful sometimes."
Zachary laughed openly.
"I'm curious how long he will stand it. He can't go to the teacher because he would have to admit that he had stolen your wand, and even more impossible that he would apologise to you."
"And that is the case."
The next few days were relatively quiet. Most of the time, Scorpius spent on the lessons, in the library or with McGonagall. Fortunately, no one else had tried to convince him to change his attitude. He didn't know if the reason was that Dean stayed in the Dormitory or that Scorpius was often seen with the Headmaster.
That way or another, with time, more students began to think that Scorpius was some kind of McGonagall pupil, but he was less and less annoyed by it. Even more, before the Potions lesson, he often talked with Albus and Rose, ignoring many surprised eyes.
Exams were near, but Scorpius still had a problem with Potions and the History of magic, so he spent much time in the library. There, he often met Lily, who wanted to accompany him and asked him to tell her what he learned. For the first and the second time, he was annoyed by it, but after the fifth time, he stopped to think about it. She didn't bother him that much.
It was one of those evenings when he sat in the library with Lily and tried to explain to her the reasons for the middle-aged goblins' wars when the peace was broken by the sound of the opened door.
The awful whistle was a great suggestion about who entered the library.
"Lily, please leave me," Scorpius said to the Gryffindor girl.
Lily looked at him with a question, but when she spotted his serious face, she quickly nodded and stood up. She walked to the entrance, where she almost hit Dean Westwood. Scorpius noticed how she looked at the Gryffindor and how much he looked like a living dead. He had sunken cheeks, dark circles under his eyes, and chapped lips. He looked like a shadow, probably because of the lack of proper sleep - it was almost a week. Dean's left hand shook nervously.
Scorpius stood up, took his things, and came closer. He could do everything at that moment, and Dean would remember that day to the end of his life. Scorpius could mock or humiliate him. A few months ago, he would have done it without a second thought. Lately, he hated all Gryffindors, and that kind of situation would be perfect to show it. However, everything changed. How could he stand next to Albus with his head high or gain Lily's sympathy if he did something like that?
When Scorpius stopped in front of Westwood, he simply held out an open hand at him. Dean looked at that for a while, with a mix of hate and panic on his face. Finally, he put a false wand on Scorpius' hand. The whistle stopped immediately.
The relief on Dean's face was hard to hide.
"Incendio," Scorpius said, and the wand burned to the ashes.
In the library, there was complete silence for a long moment. Westwood looked at Scorpius with confusion; probably, he didn't know if he should apologise nonetheless. However, Scorpius knew that it wasn't the case. The sincere intention was important.
There was no point in staying here, so Scorpius walked to the door. However, before he left the library, he threw through his shoulder:
"I promised McGonagall that I would behave, so my revenge was mild. Next time, I won't be so nice."
Scorpius left, leaving the stunned Gryffindor inside.
When Scorpius entered the dungeon the next morning, everything seemed quite normal. No one suspiciously reacted to Scorpius' arrival, but when he sat at his desk, Albus came to him.
"Tell me that you didn't have anything to do with Dean's condition," he asked.
Scorpius rolled his eyes.
"Of course not," Scorpius murmured, but then a vicious smile appeared on his face. He turned around and called to Westwood: "Right, Dean?"
The Gryffindor flinched, hearing his name.
"Sod off, Malfoy!" he barked in reply but added nothing more. Better rested, he came back to his previous self, but not enough to start another quarrel with Scorpius.
"As you can see, we are living in peace and friendship," Scorpius added with a grin.
Potter only sighed and shook his head.
The rest of the lesson had passed without incidents, and Scorpius, together with Zack, managed to make quite a good potion. Glad about their job, they went toward the Great Hall but stopped at the entrance when they noticed a fuss inside. Many students talked about something with emphasis; there were also a few teachers next to the tables. Everyone read a special edition of the Daily Prophet.
Zack and Scorpius came closer, intrigued by it. They took one paper and read the article on the first page.
"HORNTAILS STRIKE AGAIN!" The title said. Then, there was a huge article about a crime group called Horntails, which had committed many crimes in the wizarding world. Not much was known about them. Their origin and goals were still a mystery. Mainly, they burglary other wizards or robbed shops but also spread some anarchistic slogans so they didn't look like common thieves.
However, that attack was different. A group of dozen masked men appeared in Diagon Alley around 9 AM. They had destroyed shops, attacked people and written on the wall curses against the Ministry of Magic. Finally, they had struck at Gringotts Bank. There - as the article said - they attacked goblins and customers, destroyed everything in the sigh, and robbed deposits.
They had run via portkey before Aurors had come. The number of casualties and value of stolen goods was unknown, but the attack left Diagon Alley in complete chaos.
With each read sentence, Scorpius felt as if something strong began to crush his guts, and his legs became unstable. When he came to the fragment in which the author added that in the bank, at least thirteen goblins and eight people were dead, he couldn't read further. Without a word of explanation, he ran away from the Great Hall, found the nearest toilet and threw away everything that was left in his stomach after breakfast.
Scorpius began to shiver, and he couldn't stand still. Cursing under his breath, he sat on the floor, rested his back on the door, and closed his eyes, hoping that he would regain control over his body. However, the next waves of panic attacked him without mercy.
After a while, he heard someone come into the toilet.
"Dude, is everything all right?" Zack asked through the door.
Even if Scorpius could reply, he was sure he would vomit when he opened his mouth.
"Scorpius?" Zachary repeated.
"Leave him." The second voice belonged to Karl. "He will answer when he can."
"What happened?"
"His mother works in Gringotts."
Scorpius didn't know how long he had sat in the toilet cabin, but when he calmed down enough to leave that shelter, his roommates disappeared. Probably, they went on the Defence Against the Dark Arts. However, he didn't feel like he could join them. In that situation, Scorpius couldn't stand a malicious Willick's face. Instead, he washed his face and hair, pulled himself together, and left the toilet.
Fortunately, the school's corridors were empty at the hour, so no one stopped him when he walked toward the Owlery. He wrote only one question on the parchment and sent an owl into the sky.
He still felt how his hands and legs trembled, so finally, he sat at the window. From that place, there was a beautiful view of the school and surrounding mountains, and probably in different circumstances, he would wonder why he came there so rarely. But then he could think only about events at the Diagon Alley. Still, he felt an unpleasant chill when he remembered what he had read in that article. At that moment, he understood how unimportant his problems were and how easily his life could turn upside down.
Scorpius shook his head, fearing returned nausea. He was powerless; he could do nothing to change the situation. He could only wait, which was the most frustrating.
He sat in the Owlery for more than an hour, trying to temper his imagination, but he gained nothing. With many dark thoughts, he stood up and went to the library to occupy his mind with something.
Of course, he could go back to the Dormitory; the lessons should end already, so he wouldn't be alone. However, the attack on Diagon Alley would be the main subject that evening, and Scorpius didn't want to listen about that.
He didn't want to meet any Gryffindor either. Scorpius was sure they would spot that something was off the moment they looked at him. They had an ugly manner to put their noses into not their business. They would ask questions he didn't want to answer. The last thing he needed was a panic attack in front of them. His pride wouldn't stand that.
The library was the only option left. However, after fifteen minutes, Scorpius realised that he didn't know what he had read about it, and his mind went back to the previous events.
For more than a half hour, he wandered through the corridors without any purpose, but in the end, he stopped next to the door to the McGonagall office. He didn't have the lesson that day, so for sure, the Headmaster had many other important things to do. Scorpius wasn't so naive to think that everything turned around him; nonetheless, he knocked at the door with hesitation.
Steady McGonagall's voice invited him to come inside. The Headmaster sat at her desk with a pen in her hand and a mountain of parchments in front of her. When Scorpius came inside, she looked at him with watchful eyes. At that moment, he regretted that mindless decision; the woman needed only seconds to spot that something was wrong. She was a great observant.
"What happened, Malfoy?"
It was clear that the Headmaster looked through him. She didn't ask, "Did something happen?". She already knew that something was wrong and didn't leave a place for misunderstanding.
"I know that our lesson is tomorrow, but can we move it to today?" Scorpius asked, looking at the wall. "I know you are busy, professor, but maybe…"
"Sit, are you prepared?"
Scorpius nodded slightly and sat in his usual spot.
For more than an hour, Scorpius practised under the vary McGonagall's eyes. He learned a new charm, Inanimatus Conjurus, which allowed him to create small things: cups, pens, and piggybanks from one small piece of metal, which was a base for that charm. To properly work, that spell required creating a full image of the thing in the wizard's mind, so during that exercise, Scorpius couldn't think about anything else.
However, when the clock on the wall showed supper time, Scorpius felt an unpleasant chill come down his back. He needed to go to the Great Hall, and there would probably be the new edition of the Prophet with more details about morning events on Diagon Alley. Scorpius didn't have enough strength to confront that information.
He hid his wand in a pocket and rested his trembling hands on his knees to not show it in front of the Headmaster. He should have stood up, said his goodbyes and left, but he couldn't rise from the chair. Suddenly, his legs stopped to listen to him. When he felt a suspicious McGonagall gaze on himself, Scorpius knew he wouldn't stay calm. With one nervous movement, he combed his hair, feeling that he was a few seconds from a panic attack. He had to leave; the last thing he wanted was that kind of scene in McGonagall's office.
However, before he could manage to stand up, McGonagall left her place and walked around her large desk. Suddenly, she put a hand on Scorpius' shoulder.
"It seems you need something to calm down."
At that moment, he looked at her calm face with disbelief, but then he lowered his eyes and nodded. He couldn't say a word.
After less than two minutes, McGonagall put a cup of tea in front of Scorpius. The tea had some strange, strong herbal flavour, but Scorpius was ready to drink anything to regain his normal breathing. The hot mixture relaxed his dried throat, and after a while, the potion removed that steel belt around his guts.
Scorpius sat there for a while, watching the empty cup without a word. The silence in the office was distributed only by the clock on the wall. Scorpius was really glad that McGonagall didn't ask him about his behaviour because he didn't have the strength to create a proper sentence. How much time has passed? Nine hours? Maybe ten. Did his father know something? Mother usually worked until 5 p.m.; before six, she was at home. Did she come back to the manor already? Maybe that attack stopped her at work. She could be wounded, they could take her to the hospital, or…
Scorpius closed his eyes and clenched his jaws. He couldn't think about it, never in the world; he shouldn't formulate that thought. As if thinking about it made it more possible. However, in the end, it didn't matter. Usually, everything he had done didn't matter, but at that moment, the powerlessness was more painful than before. It made him feel sick.
He was freed from those dark thoughts by the quiet tap at the window. He looked in that direction and spotted a large black bird there. It was Stroke - his father's eagle owl.
He didn't know how he managed to stand up, but he moved to the window in a second. With trembling hands, he took a small piece of parchment Stroke brought to him. Scorpius couldn't take a breath when he opened and read the note.
At one moment, his vision blurred, and the parchment fell from his hands. In a desperate attempt, he covered tears with his hand, but they fell down his face.
However, after a few seconds, Scorpius felt McGonagall's hands on his shoulders. He shivered stronger and stronger with each cry, and finally, not thinking about what he did, he turned around and allowed the Headmaster to embrace him. He cried like a baby, couldn't stop all the awful emotion he tried to keep in bait for so long. Probably the next day, he would be ashamed of that childish behaviour; maybe he would have a problem looking into McGonagall's eyes, but at that moment, he couldn't think less about that. Simply, he was so happy that he wasn't alone.
On the floor, next to Scorpius' feet, lay the letter from Draco. It had only two sentences:
Astoria came back home. She is all right.
Years of experience taught McGonagall that there were situations where words were unnecessary. One of them took place at her office that day. Young Malfoy, who fought with growing distress all day long, couldn't withdraw tears because sometimes relief was the strongest feeling and overwhelmed our minds. She stood there for a few minutes, holding the trembling boy in her arms. She gave him as much time as he needed to calm down and pull himself together. After all, despite what he thought about himself, he was only a child, and that situation was way too tough for him to stand. Probably many adults would have a problem behaving rationally in that case, moreover a fourteen-year-old boy. Of course, McGonagall noticed already that Scorpius tried to act more mature than his peers, and usually, he was successful in that matter, but not that day. That day, it was clear that Scorpius was still a child who needed support and care.
When she felt that Scorpius stopped trembling so badly, she guided him back to the desk and proposed one more cup of tea. He nodded slightly, not even looking at her. His eyes were stuck on the floor.
McGonagall left the office for a moment. In her private room, on the small vanity table stood a half-empty bottle with a calming potion. She used it from time to time when there were too many problems in her mind, and she couldn't sleep because of that. That evening, she also planned to spend the other way, but sometimes the situation required changing previous plans. After all, when Malfoy appeared at her office, she immediately understood that something was really bad. Usually, the young Slytherin wore a mask of indifference on his face. Under that mask, he tried to hide all his emotions and thoughts. Sometimes, during the lessons, when some topic interested him more than usual, he forgot about the mask and showed his true self. In those rare moments, McGonagall noticed his natural curiosity and ambitions. Of course, many situations taught him to hide those aspects of his character deep inside, but fortunately, they didn't vanish completely.
During their lessons, Malfoy could leave his mask behind and showed that, in truth, he wasn't as cold and indifferent as he pretended. That allowed McGonagall to think that she had made a correct choice: for sure, it wasn't too late for that boy.
However, that day was completely different. When Malfoy came to her office, his mask barely held in place. He was terrified. McGonagall didn't ask about details, seeing that he wasn't able to talk about them. He came to her because he wanted to drown out the panic in something he could control - learning. Maybe also because he knew she wouldn't send him away. Who would she turn out to be if she refused to help someone who needed her so badly? With that one rash decision, she would destroy all trust she methodically gained week after week.
It was so hard to gain young Malfoy's trust, but because that day he came to her for help, McGonagall knew she managed to accomplish that task.
McGonagall pushed all these irrelevant thoughts away, picked up a bottle with the potion, and returned to the office. However, when she came there, she stopped and smiled slightly. Malfoy rested his head on his intertwined arms and slept calmly on her desk. He had to be truly exhausted.
She left an unnecessary potion on the desk, and with a quick charm, she moved Scorpius to the sofa in the corner of the office. She covered him with a blanket and went back to the desk to clean the books and mess after the lesson. She also picked up from the floor the piece of parchment brought by the owl. Without a doubt, it was handwritten by Dracon. McGonagall remembered that a few years ago, she met with Astoria Greengrass in the Gringotts Bank. Astoria was a quiet and calm girl with good notes. She was in Slytherin, perhaps because of her lack of trust in people and her introverted behaviour. It seemed her son was very similar to her.
When, during the dinner, McGonagall read about the attack at Diagon Alley, she didn't remember that past encounter. However, when she spotted Scorpius at the door of her office a few hours later, she connected facts. She understood his fears. The Gringotts Bank was a place where the most casualties were, and they didn't know the whole situation. There, in Hogwarts, they were a little bit cut off from information, so the only thing to do was to be patient and wait.
Of course, McGonagall also felt relief when the good news arrived. That kind of trauma would be really destructive for Scorpius; in the end, he was also a vengeful person.
When McGonagall finished clearing the mess, she spotted Malfoy's eagle owl still sitting in the window. She came closer and gently brushed his feathers. The bird took it with pleasure.
"Give me a few minutes," she said to it.
She came back to her desk, took out a new piece of parchment and began to write.
Mr D. Malfoy
Malfoy Manor
Wiltshire
Dear Mr Malfoy,
I want to express my sincere rejoicing that your wife is safe. It's really good that you informed your son about it without delay because he was truly afraid about her well-being.
However, it's not the case I'm writing to you. The main reason is my concern about your son, who has been studying with me for a while. Scorpius is a really talented boy and has a great interest in practical magic. That should be developed in the next years. However, I noticed that the lack of challenges has a devastating impact on his behaviour. I'm afraid that a two-month holiday break will have a negative effect on his engagement. To prevent that, I plan to give him Hogwarts authorisation to use magic during the holiday so that he can practice also at home.
I would be grateful if you could find time and opportunity to help him with that task. With your abilities, it shouldn't be a problem, and it can be a good chance to rebuild your relationship, which, as Scorpius occasionally mentioned, isn't in the best shape.
Best regards,
Minerva McGonagall
When Scorpius woke up, he was truly disoriented. He didn't know where he was or what happened. It took a couple of seconds before the memories of previous events came to his mind. Information about the attack at Diagon Alley, the exercises at McGonagall's office, the letter from the father… suddenly Scorpius felt unpleasant hotness. Did he cry in the Headmaster's presence? Did he allow himself such childish and mindless behaviour? What did she have to think about him?
When Scorpius opened his eyes and recognised that he lay on a sofa in the office's corner, he felt completely sick. Not only did he cry there, but he also fell asleep. There was no greater humiliation.
When he sat up, he noticed that McGonagall was still working at the desk. Scorpius looked at the clock on the wall - it was almost midnight. He didn't know how to behave in that situation. He felt shame, and he didn't know how he could look at McGonagall's face. In the end, he stood up quickly, rolled a blanket and turned towards the exit.
"I'm sorry for the problem," he murmured.
"Wait, Malfoy."
Scorpius flinched. He really didn't want to talk about that situation; even without any words, he felt hotness on his face, but he couldn't disobey, so after a while, he turned around and looked at the Headmaster. On her face was painted a sincere concern, but it caused him to feel even worse. He didn't want her pity. He didn't like the thought that she would see in him only a weak crybaby.
"Do you feel better?"
Scorpius nodded reluctantly; he couldn't find proper words.
"I used your family eagle owl and sent a letter to your father."
Scorpius felt a chill on his back.
"About what? Not about today…"
"I wrote to him because I plan to give you Hogwarts authorisation for using magic during the summer holiday, however, only in your father's presence. I hope you will use it in the most effective way."
Scorpius couldn't hide his surprise, and for a few seconds, he didn't say anything. He looked at McGonagall and tried to collect his thoughts. In truth, he couldn't imagine his father helping him to learn, but he couldn't think about it at that moment. Much more, he was interested in what to do with that knob in his throat. It was too much for him, and he didn't control his emotions. They still had an advantage over his reason.
"Thank you. I…" He didn't know how to express what he felt at that moment.
There was a shadow of a smile on McGonagall's face, but after that, she dismissed him with a movement of her hand.
"Return to your dormitory. It's really late."
Scorpius nodded, said a quiet goodbye, and left the office. He never assumed that there would be a person who would be so good and, with that easy, read his thoughts. And he was uncommonly grateful to her for that.