The Hollow Beneath Hogwarts

66. Lucky Man

Harry sat quietly beside Professor McGonagall for a few moments after she thanked him.

Neither seemed in any rush to leave. The office felt peaceful. Safe. A welcome contrast to the chaos that seemed to follow Harry Potter everywhere he went.

The portraits lining the walls had returned to their own conversations, some pretending not to eavesdrop while very obviously eavesdropping. One elderly wizard was snoring softly in the frame above the fireplace while another portrait tutted disapprovingly at him.

Harry found himself smiling.

For perhaps the first time in years, he didn't feel responsible for the fate of the entire wizarding world.

It was an odd feeling. A good feeling. And yet there was still a weight sitting in his chest.

McGonagall noticed immediately. She always did. "Something else is bothering you."

Harry looked over. "I thought we established you know everything about your students."

The Headmistress smirked. "Most things."

Harry chuckled. Then sighed. "It's Sloane."

McGonagall nodded. She'd suspected as much. 

Harry looked down at his hands. "I've never seen her like that before." The admission came quietly. "She's always the strong one."

His voice softened. "The one helping everyone else. The one fixing problems. The one making everyone laugh when they're miserable."

McGonagall listened patiently.

"She's always checking on other people." Harry shook his head. "But nobody ever seems to check on her."

The Headmistress' expression saddened. "There is truth in that."

Harry sighed.

"I don't think  Kingsley meant it."

McGonagall nodded. "Nor do I."

"But she heard it." The words hung in the air. Because that was the problem. Intentions didn't always matter.

Sometimes only the wound remained.

"She's lost so much already." Harry stared into the fire. "Her mum. Her dad. Sawyer." He swallowed. "And now she thinks she's lost her home too."

The Headmistress remained silent for several moments. Then she surprised him. "When I was a young teacher..."

Harry looked up. McGonagall rarely spoke about herself. "I once told a student that she was being difficult."

Harry frowned. "That's not so bad."

The older witch smiled sadly. "It wasn't what I meant." The smile faded. "I meant she was making life difficult for herself." A pause. "She heard that she was difficult to love."

Harry's eyes widened. McGonagall nodded.

"It took months to repair that damage." The office fell silent. "Words matter, Harry."

Her voice softened. "Especially from the people we love."

Harry thought about Kingsley. About Sloane. About the look on her face when she called him Minister instead of Uncle.

He winced. "Yeah."

The Headmistress sighed. "Your friend has a good heart."

"A ridiculously good heart." Harry laughed. "Honestly, it's annoying."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Annoying?"

"She'd save anyone." Harry smiled despite himself. "Literally anyone."