Oh please, I am far more entertaining than that cow,” Draco snapped, insulted. “Really, Potter. You’re practically dragging your feet.” Terrible form. Who taught him how to walk? Perpetual slouchers? Slugs? A Weasley? 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?” Only the difference between truth and lies, courage and cowardice,’ said Professor McGonagall, who had turned pale, ‘a difference, in short, which you and your sister seem unable to appreciate. But let me make one thing very clear. You are not going to pass off your many ineptitudes on the students of Hogwarts. I shall not permit it.’ Hugging Dementors would probably be more enjoyable, Harry thought. Much more so than slicing ones hand open again and again while Unbridge sipped her tea and the technicolour kittens in the plates gambolled along behind them. Draco has enough on his plate just trying to survive Slytherin House.” He rolled the tumbler in his hands and took a sip of whiskey. “And I’m not certain how much I can get away with.” He was on thin ice already from the Ministry for having been a Death Eater, no matter his status as spy. “I suppose I could slip her something in her morning tea.” He smirked at Minerva. “Although we’d have an entire class of students who can see the thestrals.”

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Draco sighed. “Don’t you know anything, Potter?” He scowled at the floor in front of him and kept walking, pulling the other boy behind. “Blood Quills are illegal to use on a minor. Umbridge might as well have stood there and cast a cruciatus and an imperius curse on you. Blood Quills are used for binding magical contracts and you’re too young to sign one! When my father hears about this, he’s going to have her job.” And maybe the Minister’s!Umbridge was clearly ready for them to try something when they got to her class. She was standing by the door and as soon as the door opened, she commanded them all to place their wands on her desk. He glanced at the other boy. Potter really didn’t look well. He was pale and sweaty and looked like he might pass out if Draco tried to drag him to the dungeons. He needed McGonagall to wake up. What was something that would get her attention?

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Duh,” Draco muttered, cringing a little as he imagined what his father would say if he heard Draco uttering foul muggle slang. He swung the arm that Draco was holding and grinned. “See? I’m hallucinating. You don’t have soft hands and you’re not practically holding my hand. I may also be a little bit loopy. Do you know, I think I’ve lost a little bit more blood than I should’ve. How odd.” After Longbottom’s fleas had Umbridge scratching at her hair for the whole class period, there was the spell around Umbridge’s desk that turned everything she said into baby-talk. Draco was fairly certain that had been courtesy of Greengrass. Not a question, Professor.” Draco lowered his hand and set them both in his lap, out of her sight. He was nervous about this. He’d spent the brief time before this class considering how he would get her to give him detention. Draco jumped, spinning around to see his godfather stalking into the room. He hadn’t even heard the door open.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.

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Potter. Professor Snape is a Potions Master. He would be required by his position to help someone in need, even if he wasn’t a professor. Why do you think he spent all of third year brewing a potion for that werewolf?” Don’t spend all night dithering around,” Professor McGonagall said sharply, “and get the boy inside!” Harry felt like he was sitting on a primed grenade in Defence class that morning. It took every ounce of self control , and a few he didn’t know he had, to not turn and stare expectantly at Malfoy. We can’t decide what we love more: the steely way McGonagall approached Snape’s office, the ‘knowing look’ between her and Sprout (go Pomona!), McGonagall screaming at Snape that he was a ‘coward’ or this beautiful one-liner when Snape fled the castle: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.