The Alliance

A Visit from McGonagall

Arron heard the sound of heels on tile. They drew closer, and grew louder, until they stopped. He slowly became aware of his environment, feeling warm, soft sheets against his skin, and a dull ache in his head. The ache grew as he was drawn out of his sleep and back to reality. He opened his eyes slightly before closing them again, seeing only a glimpse of white. Arron tried again, opening his eyes fully this time, and saw the high, stony ceiling above him. He took a moment to question where he was, knowing very well that this was not his Slytherin dormitory. It didn't take long for the previous day's events to come flooding back to him. He remembered quickly walking across the courtyard, clutching his bag in his right fist. The group of boys heckling him from behind, trying to ignore them, until they spat that one word at him. "Come back here you filthy faggot!" Arron remembered turning to face them, trying not to show weakness or sign of the tears that lay just behind his eyes. They kept repeating that word, chanting it, all while backing him into a corner, wands raised. He remembered telling himself to get out his wand too, but his body hadn't seemed to be responding to his brain. He remembered them laughing, before the boy in front, with a smirk on his face, fired a spell that sent him flying backwards into the stone wall.

Arron took a deep breath, fighting back tears again. The pain in his head had grown steadily worse. He heard voices nearby, they were whispering, not too far away. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he had a funny feeling that they were talking about him. He debated pretending to be asleep, but before he had a chance, "Mr. Strike?" It was a women's voice. It was Headmistress McGonagall's voice.

He took a deep breath and slowly tried to sit up, ignoring the pain in his head. He found the headmistress standing in front of his bed in the hospital wing, hands folded in front of her, looking not at all pleased. Fearing he was in trouble, he said, "Professor, why have you come to see me?" his voice shaking slightly as he spoke.

Her expression softened slightly. She moved closer to the bed and pulled a chair up next to it, then sat down before saying, "I wanted to inform you that Nigel Stark, and all of his possy," she said the word with a large amount of distaste, "have been put into detention for the next two months, and if anything like this happens again, they will be expelled immediately," she finished, her expression back to its normal, stiff, state.

Arron shifted uncomfortably in his bed before saying, "T-thank you, but... why... why would you do that?" he said, trying (and failing) to keep his voice steady.

A sad smile formed across McGonagall's face, and she looked down for a moment before saying, "You know, Strike, Dumbledore himself was often bullied for the same reasons you are," the softness in her voice was something Arron had never heard from her before.

"You mean..." Arron trailed off, letting what she had just said sink in.

"That's right."

Arron opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, unsure what to say. He averted his eyes from the professor, trying to process this information.

"This incident," she continued after almost a minute of silence, her voice back to normal, "has convinced me of the need for support for students like yourself. I would like to create a club, and I want you to lead it."

"Really?" Arron replied, completely dumbfounded.

"With my help of course, if you'd like. I'll let you think about it. Please report to my office this Thursday, after dinner," she stood up and pulled a scrap of parchment out of her robe and handed it to him before turning to exit the hospital wing.

Arron watched her leave with a goofy grin on his face. He unfolded the note and looked at it. Scrawled across the parchment in near-perfect cursive were the words, sherbet lemon.