Moonlight » Harry Potter

Twelve

          By the time I'd reached McGonagall's office, pink slip of parchment in my hand, I was barely holding back tears. God, was I really this dumb? Did I really just get myself in detention?

I knocked softly on the door and heard McGonagall's voice beckoning me inside. I twisted the knob, and to my surprise, it didn't slip through my sweaty grip, and the door opened.

McGonagall looked up when I entered. She sensed something was off, probably by the look on my face, and frowned at me, tilting her head in concern. "What's happened, Blanchard? Why aren't you in class?"

I blinked back tears as I handed her the parchment with a shaky hand, and she took it. "Sit down."

I obeyed, watching her eyes scan the page. "Defiance...insubordination...inflammatory comments..." She looked up at me sharply. "What's this about? Why is Professor Umbridge saying this of you?"

"Because it's true," I told her, trying feverishly to gather myself.

"Well, what ever did you say, dear?"

I shrugged, inhaling deeply. "That she was teaching us wrong. That if all we did was read the book and write essays, we were never going to be prepared for what's out there."

"You said she was teaching you wrong?"

"Well, sort of implied it, yes," I sighed. "I'm not wrong. She-"

"Surely," McGonagall interrupted, "you are aware of the Ministry's views on..." she pushed to think. "Several ongoing situations?"

I nodded.

"And you have realized that Professor Umbridge in particular has a very strong, unchanging opinion that clashes with your own?"

"Yes, I have, Professor, but that doesn't change the fact-"

"Well then why," she said, cutting me off once again, "would you say such a thing? You know very well you can't lose it around her."

"I know," I said, looking away so she wouldn't see the tears welling up again. "I know that I was wrong to say it. I don't know what came over me."

"Neither do I," she scoffed. "I would think, Blanchard, lord, I would hope, that you'd be more careful-"

"I know, Professor, I know," I groaned.

"It says here you have detention starting Wednesday night-"

I looked up sharply. "Wednesday?"

"That's what she's got...oh."

And I was crying right there. Sobbing, the tears flowing out of my eyes like a river, and I couldn't stop it. One minute I was doing a fine job at holding it back, and the next I found that I simply couldn't take it any longer.

"Wednesday night." McGonagall sighed.

"She knows," I choked out. "She has to know. It's the only reason she'd set it for Wednesday." Stop crying. Stop crying. "She knows."

"Nonsense, she doesn't know," McGonagall said, pushing a box of tissues toward me. She knew better than to hug me or try to soothe me; I'd known her and she'd known me long enough to remember that.

"Of course she does!" I argued, swiping a hand across my face. It did no good, and the tears kept coming, but in spite of that, I felt that I was recovering my voice a bit. "Don't you know she was the one who drafted the bloody legislation?"

"She doesn't know, Blanchard," McGonagall said. "I know she drafted it, and I've been doing my best to keep this from her. Now, unless you've told someone who's told her-"

"But I haven't told anyone! No one knows!" I paused to sniffle. "Except she does."

"Will you stop? She doesn't know. And for heaven's sake, take a tissue." She pushed the box closer, and I grabbed one, more out of courtesy than anything else, and mopped my face with it.

"Can't you reverse it?"

"No," McGonagall answered regretfully. "I'm afraid I can't. I'll do what I can though, to keep you away from her Wednesday night all the way through Friday. But you'll have to serve it eventually."

I sighed. "What have I done? What is wrong with me, why would I say such things to her? I know better than this-"

"Blanchard!"

I stopped rambling, feeling my heart race in my chest so fast I'd expected it to burst through, and looked up at her.

"Keep your head!" She shook her head. "It's no use telling yourself those things, true though they may be. You can't change it now..."

"I'm so mad at myself-"

"Believe me, I know you are." She frowned sympathetically. "Now, calm yourself down, stop crying, and don't-for the love of God, Blanchard, don't start with the self pity and anger again! My goodness, look at you. Such a mess. You're usually so collected. Umbridge knows nothing. I promise. When the bell rings at the end of class, you'd better be ready to leave this room looking like you haven't been bawling your eyes out the whole time. Take another tissue."

I grabbed one from the box and blew my nose, lobbing it into the trash can across the room. I rested my chin in my hand, now wet with tears. "I just-"

"Shh. Stop talking. Just calm down."

I sighed, closing my eyes, a few more tears slipping out. This is a disaster, I thought. Look at the mess you've gotten yourself  into. Don't you have any sense?

I inhaled deeply in an effort to calm my fast breathing. I doubted it would be long before the bell rang, and there was no way I'd leave the room like this if I could help it.

If Umbridge knew. What if she knew? What if McGonagall was wrong and she did know? What if McGonagall couldn't get my detention moved? 

I could show up anyway and turn the old git into one, I thought to myself, but knowing that wouldn't do, in any case.

If Umbridge knew, God, if Umbridge knew, what the hell would happen to me?

// Hi wow it's been a hot minute since I've updated this. I've been so busy with schoolwork that I haven't had time ! So have this chapter,,,,,,I'm hoping I'll be able to get more out soon :)