Merry Christmas Mr. Malfoy (Book 1)

Chapter 12 : It Began with Blue Fire

It Began with Blue Fire  

"I appreciate that you agreed to meet with me; I wasn't sure if we would be able to get away with this."

"You, Mr. Potter, might not have been able to 'get away' with anything, but I have nothing to 'get away' with. Now, please explain why you desperately needed this meeting so that I can get back to making sure that Hagrid does not over-decorate the Great Hall."

Harry glanced across the table to take in the form of Minerva McGonagall, covered from head to toe in outer-gear. Harry, on the other hand, had Apparated to the Three Broomsticks and had found that all he needed was a jacket.

They had established this meeting five days ago, on Tuesday, and Harry had been most grateful.

"It's to discuss Hermione."

Professor McGonagall lifted a brow, although the movement was hardly noticeable under her hat, and pursed her lips. "I understand that she stayed behind for the holidays while you and Mr. Weasley chose not to. If this is on Mr. Weasley's behalf, I would like to state that you are wasting your time."

"No, I'm not doing this for Ron," Harry interjected. "I'm doing this on my own; Ron doesn't even know about it. For all he knows, I'm doing some last minute Christmas shopping for him."

McGonagall lightly tapped the bottle of Butterbeer in front of her, nodding for him to continue as she gave him her approval. She had found it extremely odd when she had received his letter. He had begged her to meet with him, in private – although one could hardly call the Three Broomsticks private –, and said that it was an urgent affair.

It was only because of past experience with Mr. Potter did she agree to this meeting.

If it turned out to be because he was upset that Hermione had remained behind, she would give Harry detention for the rest of his life.

"Anyway," Harry sighed, glancing briefly around the resto-pub (A/N: I would assume that the Three Broomsticks would be like a resto-pub, not really a bar, not really a restaurant) before moving back to his Headmistress, "I believe I need your help. Before we left, I never really got to speak with Hermione and I had neglected to remind her that her parents are staying at the Burrow with us. The problem with that is that Hermione's here and her parents are there."

McGonagall slowly nodded, understanding two things: 1) Harry was indeed telling the truth about Hermione's parents, 2) her parents not being notified about their daughter's decision was not the true reason he had set up this meeting. She, however, decided to see how things would play out and she would see what he really wanted.

"I'll assume that her parents were not notified of this?"

"I don't think Hermione got the chance to tell them or I'm positive that they wouldn't be staying at the Burrow. They're Muggles and I think that they might be uncomfortable in a magical environment without their daughter there to explain everything."

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall interrupted, "I must say that you are making a poor argument. Would you please keep to the truth and not lie to me? You are a very poor liar." She uncapped her Butterbeer and took a tentative sip.

Harry sighed heavily; he had not intended on telling the whole truth to McGonagall. He had feared that she would immediately refuse his request and he desperately needed to talk to Hermione alone. Ron was sulking more than a five-year-old who was denied candy, and things were becoming increasingly tense at the Burrow as the Weasleys worried incessantly about the arrival of the Grangers.

Things were definitely not going as planned and Harry feared that this Christmas might wind up being catastrophic. Especially since Mrs. Weasley had begun to rant and rave about the brunette's decision to remain behind. No one could talk any sense into Molly; even Arthur had given up the day before when she had begun shouting in the kitchen about ungrateful people.