THE MOST FAITHFUL

PUNISHMENT

Harry walked quickly down the wide, empty corridor, his footsteps thundering noisily on the stone walls irritating him even more. As if that wasn't enough when he turned the corner he bumped into Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man with a big mouth that fluttered on his back in mid-air, juggling several inkwells. "But look, it's Potty Potter!" Peeves chuckled, dropping two inkwells which shattered on the ground and splashed the walls with ink; Harry jumped back with a growl. "Go away Pix"

"Oooh, Potty is having a tantrum," Peeves said; he chased Harry down the hall as he darted over him and glared at him."What is it this time, my dear friend Potty? Do you hear voices? Do you have visions?" and he gave in a giant raspberry.

"I said leave me IN PEACE!" Harry yelled, running down the nearest flight of stairs, but Peeves slid his back along the handrail."Many are convinced that nonsense blabbering, some, more gentle, think of him as sick, but Peeves knows very well that Potty is a bit played ..."

"SHUT UP!"

A door to her left swung open and Professor McGonagall walked out of her office looking grim and a little annoyed."What the hell are you screaming about, Potter?" she snapped as Peeves gloated happily and darted away. "Why aren't you in class?"

"I was sent to you, professor."

"Sent? How would it be, sent? "

He handed her Professor Umbridge's message. Professor McGonagall took it, frowning, opened it with a flick of her wand, unrolled it and began to read. Her eyes darted from side to side of the paper behind her square glasses as she passed Umbridge's words, and with each line they narrowed tighter.

"Come in, Potter." Harry followed her into her office. The door closed by itself behind him."Then?" Professor McGonagall asked, turning around. "It's true?"

"Is what true?" Harry asked, more aggressive than he intended."Professor?" he added, trying to sound more polite.

"Is it true you yelled at Professor Umbridge?"

"Yes," Harry replied.

"And did you call her a liar?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell her that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?"

"Yes."

Professor McGonagall sat down at her desk and frowned at Harry.

She then she said, "Get a cookie, Potter."

"I take ... what?"

"Get a cookie," she repeated impatiently, pointing to a tin box printed with a Scottish design on top of a stack of papers on the desk. "And sit down."

On another occasion Harry had expected to be beaten by Professor McGonagall and instead had been assigned to the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He sank into a chair across from her and grabbed a Gingerbread, as confused and confused as that time. Professor McGonagall put down Professor Umbridge's note and looked at Harry very seriously. "Potter, you have to be careful." Harry swallowed the morsel of Ginger and stared at her. His tone of voice was not at all what he was used to; he was not quick, dry and severe; he was short and anxious and somehow more human than usual. "Misconduct in Professor Umbridge's class could cost you much more than a few points stolen from the House and a punishment."

"What...?"

"Potter, use your common sense!" snapped Professor McGonagall, with an abrupt return to the usual ways. "You know where it comes from, so you should know who it's referring to." She rang the bell that signaled the end of the lesson. Above them and all around, the elephantine noises of hundreds of students on the move rang out. "It says here that he has given you a detention every night this week, starting tomorrow," said Professor McGonagall, looking at Umbridge's note again. "Every night of the week!" Harry repeated, horrified.