Draco took a deep breath and met McGonagall’s stern gaze. “Professor, I would like to report a gross miscarriage of justice. Potter here has just come from detention with Professor Umbridge.” Draco went a glare at the boy, who hadn’t said anything. “Show her your hand, Potter!” Harry hummed to himself as Malfoy went from door to door, staring at them and then moving on the next. “It’s this one,” he said after he’d walked away from the right door. “Maaaalfoy. You walked past the door!” Priorities, Draco. His mother’s smooth, cultured voice interrupted his thoughts, a thousand lessons on etiquette flashing through his mind in a moment. Right, priorities, and remaining calm under pressure.

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Not this, though. Surely not? Not after everything Harry went through last year… Dumbledore wouldn’t… You’re not going to be punished for doing this,” McGonagall stressed, “but only if you choose to do it, mister Malfoy. Otherwise, we will have to find another way.” Maybe not right now.” Luna hurried to catch up with Draco and let her fingers rest lightly on his bloodied palm. “Make sure you wash this off, Draco,” she murmured. “You don’t want someone who’s not you to get Harry’s blood.” Everyone shuffled into their seats and Umbridge shut the door. “There,” she said sweetly. “Now we’re going to have a nice, calm class.”Whilst we will do everything we can to meet the delivery times above, there may be factors outside of our control and we cannot guarantee delivery within this time frame. Harry glowered at his feet and then decided to simply go with it. He’d just tell her he had a headache. A frightful thing that was making his teeth hurt. Then he could take something for pain and hopefully get some bloody sleep. And then I was summoned. Does this story have a point, Draco?” Snape looked at Luna. “And what are you doing out of bed, Miss Lovegood?” He’d considered for a time that bigger might be better. Ostentatious and loud, like a Gryffindor. But the urge to oust Umbridge immediately warred with his natural desire to stay in the shadows.

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It was impressive, really. Gryffindor and Slytherin working together under the same banner. Getting rid of Umbridge. And then - and Harry really had to remember to give the twins something amazing for Christmas - her stomach began to rumble and gurgle. Her face went from white to red to green and Harry watched with tears of laughter in his eyes as Umbridge fled the classroom, deathly-smelling pop-pop-pop sounds following her. Harry shuffled his feet uncomfortably. This was… not what he’d been expecting. Malfoy wouldn’t do it though. The risk was too big. He thought for a moment. Potter really did look reluctant. And Draco could understand that. The school nurse was terrifying, on top of running her mouth to the Headmaster. After all, when a young, first-year Harry Potter was set loose on his broom during a flying lesson, she recognised his potential to be on her house’s Quidditch team, rather than tipping all the house points out of the Gryffindor hourglass. Sure, Professor McGonagall wouldn’t let you get away with murder, but she would always have that special solidarity with her students, and a burning loyalty to whomever may need it.Draco shifted uncomfortably, realized he was still holding Potter’s hand, and dropped it. He took a step away from him.

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The bit of chalk under his control was halfway through the word someone when Ron Weasley burst out in loud guffaws, completely interrupting Umbridge’s assurances that the Ministry would always put the children of the next generation first. It’s not actually the Battle of Hogwarts itself for which we choose to commend McGonagall, but those stolen minutes before Voldemort stormed the castle, when Harry returned and the revolt began. Before all of that got going, McGonagall had some staff restructuring to do. A natural leader Harry didn’t look at either Ron or Hermione as he ate his breakfast. He knew Ron would have questions and Hermione would bristle and fuss and argue that he ought to do this and that about Umbridge. He just didn’t have the energy. So he pulled Potter after him as he reached the stairs and started to climb. He just hoped he could remember where McGonagall’s office was.

Severus grimaced. “Draco’s situation is… complicated.” Lucius wanted the boy to take the Dark Mark. It was expected of him, as the scion of the Malfoy Family, to follow in the footsteps of his fathers. Lucuis, and Abraxas before him, had always sat high in the Ministry, supporting the Pureblood agenda and, often, whatever Dark Lord was reigning over the world at that time.

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I was following the Nargles. Sometimes they lead me to my shoes. I was rather hoping to find Cedric’s ghost, though. He always helped me.” Why do you want to see Pomfrey, anyway?” Had he already asked that? “You know she tells Dumbledore everything, don’t you?” Worst healer ever.I just wanted to say how much I appreciate finally having a professor who knows how to teach their subject.” But of course, the rules don’t apply to Gryffindor’s golden boy,” Snape drawled, scowling as he made his way over to where McGonagall was standing. “The painting didn’t mention who I would be treating, Minerva.” He sighed and rolled his head to look at McGonagall properly. She looked pissed. And blurry. And really pissed off. He must’ve slept through her class. “Ow,” he mumbled. “‘m I late?” He’d just gotten out of detention with Professor Umbridge,” Draco continued, talking a little louder to interrupt his godfather’s mutterings. “And he wanted to go to Pomfrey.” He sneered. “I tried to get him to come to you, Se-- Professor Snape, but he wouldn’t, so I brought him to Professor McGonagall.” What I’m saying is all Potter has to do is look particularly irritated at Umbridge and she’ll toss him in detention. I’m going to have to be a bit more thorough. She doesn’t hate me.” Not yet, anyway. “And if I’m just going to get in trouble with you or with Dumbledore for doing as I’m told, then I refuse. You can find someone else to use as bait.”