0629 Professor McGonagall

Harry and Ron exchanged a knowing glance, their eyes meeting for a brief moment as they silently communicated their shared realization. It was obvious to both of them that Hermione was inexplicably angry again. 

As the trio made their way through the stone corridors of Hogwarts, Harry’s mind was spinning with questions. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson, two of the most powerful and respected figures at the school, had been absent for several days now. Their sudden departure had been the talk of the school, with wild rumors and speculation running rampant among the students.

And then, just as abruptly as they had left, the two professors had returned summoning Harry, Ron and Hermione to the headmaster’s office. The message had come via Professor McGonagall, delivered in her usual no-nonsense manner. And it was hard not to be curious about the reason behind this.

As they climbed the stone staircase that led to Dumbledore’s office, Harry wracked his brain, searching his recent memories for any misbehavior that might have earned such a summons. But he carefully recalled that they had indeed been quite well-behaved recently, and had not violated any school rules. Well, except for that one ‘small’ Duel incident with Malfoy.

But Professor Watson certainly wouldn’t summon them for that. If he wanted to kick Harry out of PE class, then Professor McGonagall should have called for Malfoy too. Besides, Professor Watson had full authority over their punishment, there was no need to involve Professor Dumbledore.

Unless it was related to what happened that night in the kitchen.

At the end of that night, Professor Watson warned them not to reveal their wondrous experience to anyone else, but he also emphasized one exception – if Dumbledore took the initiative to inquire about it.

With Professor McGonagall still leading the way, there was no chance for them to voice these suspicions verbally. Seized by a sudden impulse, Harry quickened his pace, coming up alongside Hermione. He winked at her with a quick darting of the eye, trying to convey his theory without words. But Hermione openly ignored him, her gaze seemed fixed straight ahead, her jaw looked set in a stubborn way that Harry knew all too well.

“Professor McGonagall,” Hermione asked, her voice cutting through the tense silence, “when did Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson return?”

“Just a few hours ago, Miss Granger,” came the reply from Professor McGonagall as she maintained her brisk pace. Her strides were not large, but rapid – causing the three little ones to have to jog to keep up with her.

Professor McGonagall seemed to have realized what her house’s three “troublemakers” were worried about. She glanced sideways at Hermione, her gaze softening, and a reassuring smile appeared at the corners of her usually stern mouth.

“I don’t know why Albus and Bryan asked to see you,” She said, while a note of frustration seemed to sneak into her voice. “I inquired, but neither of them was willing to reveal the reason.”

This typical lack of response seemed to annoy Professor McGonagall; her lips were pursed, and her nostrils were flaring slightly as if she had caught a whiff of something unpleasant.

“It’s always like this with those two,” she muttered, more to herself than to the trio behind her. “Often gone for days on end, vanished to Merlin knows where. And when they ARE at the school, they sit in their offices like hermits, unwilling to come out and interact with the rest of us.”

She shook her head, and a lock of black hair became loose from her tight bun and fell across her forehead.

“Bryan wasn’t always like this, you know. When he first came to teach at Hogwarts, he was much more engaged, more a part of the daily life of the school. But now…” She trailed off. “Now he’s becoming more and more like Albus, neglecting his duties, not even bothering to attend the Christmas feast.”

At the mention of the feast, Professor McGonagall’s eyes widened, and a sudden realization sparked in her mind. She turned and looked at Hermione.

“Oh, speaking of the feast, Miss Granger,” she said, her tone sharpening, “I trust you certainly haven’t forgotten that as a champion, you and your partner are expected to open the ball?”

Hermione’s cheeks flushed red. Behind her, Ron seemed to physically shrink, his head dipping down between his shoulders as if trying to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible, which was a difficult feat for someone of his long-limbed figure.

“I remember, Professor McGonagall,” Hermione’s response was barely a whisper.

“Good.” Professor McGonagall nodded with satisfaction. “And who, may I ask, is your partner? A young man from Hogwarts, I presume?”

“Um, yes, Professor,” Hermione said, biting her lower lip between her teeth. “I… I’m planning to go with Ron.”

“Oh!” Professor McGonagall’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing into her hairline. She glanced back at Ron, who looked as though he would have given anything for the power of invisibility at that moment and a knowing smile appeared at her lips.

“Two Gryffindors, eh? Very good, very good indeed.” She nodded again, satisfaction evident in every line of her face. “I expect a stellar performance from both of you. But remember,” and here her voice took on a stern, warning tone, “you are representing our house. I will not tolerate any foolishness or impropriety that might bring shame upon Gryffindor.”

Compared to usual in class, Professor McGonagall wasn’t speaking so sternly, but her warning still made Ron shudder several times.

“And what about you, Mr. Potter?” Professor McGonagall asked, turning her piercing gaze on Harry as they continued their walk through the castle’s corridors. “I hope you plan to demonstrate the warmth and hospitality of Gryffindor to our guests. If you have not yet secured a partner, perhaps you might consider inviting a young lady from Beauxbatons or Durmstrang to accompany you?”

Harry felt himself mimicking Ron, his head seemed to retreat into his shoulders like a turtle into its shell. The memory of the scene in the Entrance Hall, not ten minutes past, rose before him, vivid and surreal. He could still feel the weight of a hundred stares, could still see the flash of silvery hair as Fleur had glided across the icy steps to extend her invitation.

Harry sincerely hoped Hermione wouldn’t tell Professor McGonagall about this matter. However, Hermione shot him a “disappointed but unsurprised” glance. He still couldn’t figure out how he had angered Hermione. Could it be that Hermione simply disliked Fleur, so she was unhappy seeing him accept Fleur’s invitation?

In any case, Hermione still answered this question for him in a dry voice,

“Harry has already accepted an invitation, Professor McGonagall,” she said, her voice flat. “From Fleur Delacour.”

“Who?” Professor McGonagall’s step faltered as she asked in astonishment. After stopping again, she quickly looked at the two timid boys, then immediately added in a surprised voice herself,

“The Beauxbatons champion invited you? Is that correct, Mr. Potter?”

“Er… yes, Professor,” Harry said awkwardly, attempting a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Just now, in the Entrance Hall…”

Professor McGonagall paused and only now realized what exactly had caused the commotion in the Entrance Hall earlier. Her gaze swept over Harry, Hermione and Ron in turn, finally returning to Harry again, and now her smile was much more sincere,

“Well done, Mr. Potter!” she said, and there was no mistaking the note of pride in her voice. “You’ve made quite an impression on our esteemed guest, it seems. A true credit to Hogwarts and to Gryffindor!”

With this revelation, Professor McGonagall’s mood seemed to brighten considerably. She resumed her brisk pace, her steps seemed much lighter and more energetic. As they walked, she seemed to be muttering more to herself than to the trio following her, which made the three of them feel a little amused.

“Well then, this means there will be three Gryffindor students appearing at the opening of the ball.”

The rest of the journey passed in silence, each of the four were lost in their own thoughts as they crossed the final few corridors and staircases that led to the headmaster’s office.

Aside from Harry, this was Hermione and Ron’s first time going to Professor Dumbledore’s office. Although they had heard Harry describe what Dumbledore’s office looked like, as they gradually approached, nervousness once again gripped their hearts. They couldn’t help but ponder the reason why Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson had summoned them.

When at last they reached the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the office, Professor McGonagall spoke the password, and the gargoyle leapt aside, revealing a heavy wooden door in the three people’s line of sight.

“Go on,” Professor McGonagall said, making a shooing motion with her hands. “Albus and Bryan wouldn’t have summoned you if it weren’t important. But I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. If it were serious, they would have informed me.”

With that, she left on her own. As she disappeared around a corner, they could hear her excited mutterings echoing back to them: “Wait until Filius and Pomona hear about this!”

With a deep breath, Harry reached out and pushed the door open. It swung inside silently, revealing a large, circular room.

Creak–

Accompanied by the creaking sound, Hermione, Harry and Ron entered the mysterious headmaster’s office one after another.

For young wizards, the words “headmaster’s office” carried an inherent sense of majesty and solemnity. After entering, Harry obediently stood behind the door. Despite his curiosity, he didn’t dare let his gaze wander.

“Ah, come on over–“

Until the gentle voice of Professor Watson came from the innermost part of the circular office, only then did the three of them dare to step forward. 

The three of them walked very cautiously over the short distance of a few dozen feet. Although Professor McGonagall had already given words of reassurance, not knowing the actual situation, the three of them all wanted to try their best to appear well-behaved.

Harry suppressed his desire to greet Fawkes, who had once saved his life. Hermione also didn’t look at the silver instruments emitting ding-dong sounds. On the other hand, Ron was distracted for a moment, his attention was drawn by an old wizard with snowy white beard in a picture frame on the wall happily muttering “Red hair, descendants of the Weasley family!”

“Professor Dumbledore, Professor Watson–“

Professor Dumbledore was sitting in his own seat, giving them a gentle smile, while Professor Watson had a similar expression. This made the nervousness in the three’s hearts dissipate a bit, allowing them to focus their energy on some other things–

For example, the two extraordinary wizards both looked travel-worn, as if they had journeyed a long distance. For another example, in the center of the spindly-legged desk, there was a wide, shallow stone basin.

The edge of the basin was carved all around with mysterious Saxon runes. Inside the basin was a peculiar substance – like a liquid, but also like a gas. It was like a bright, shining silver, but constantly flowing, like ripples appearing on the surface of water in a light breeze, dispersing like wispy clouds.

“I’m very sorry for calling you here during your pleasant dinner time–“

Bryan smiled and said in warm and apologetic tone,

“But there are some matters that Professor Dumbledore and I felt it was necessary to personally verify with you–“

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