She noted that Harry had five more minutes to go in his punishment when her office door burst open and Snape stormed in, his eyes snapping with rage and his robes billowing around him. He looked positively murderous.
"Good evening, Severus," she said calmly. She was not about to be intimidated by someone who, for his first three years at Hogwarts, used to absently chew on his quills and then walk around with ink-stained lips. She noted that Harry had, not unreasonably, spun about to see who had just come in. "Face to the wall, Mr Potter."
"Where is тАУ " Snape broke off as Harry meekly pivoted to face the corner again. He blinked in surprise, realizing that his worst fears had been unwarranted.
Snape had reached the Great Hall late that evening, thanks to two idiotic Hufflepuffs who had earned an afternoon of detention by deciding to see whether they really could make their potion explode by doing exactly what the textbook said not to do. Spending four hours scrubbing first the cauldrons, then the floor, and then the walls of the classroom had convinced the miscreants that it was wiser by far not to trifle with Potions тАУ or their professor.
By the time he had arrived for dinner, the Hall was in its usual configuration, but the students and faculty had still been buzzing with excitement over what had happened earlier. Snape had listened with dawning horror тАУ Harry's mysterious enemy had obviously struck again! тАУ which only deepened as he realized that McGonagall, the stern old battle axe, had dragged Harry awayтАж by the ear, if the students were to be believed. Certain that she was berating the boy for something he did not do, he had made for her office at speed, his temper rapidly building as he envisioned the scene: a tearful Harry pleading his innocence while an implacable McGonagall heaped punishment after punishment upon the apparently intransigent child.
Instead he was disconcerted to find Harry quietly standing in a corner тАУ a mild enough punishment, though one he knew full well the brat despised тАУ while McGonagall sipped a cup of tea and perused homework assignments.
"What happened?" Snape asked, a bit awkwardly. Now that much of his righteous anger had fled, he was uncomfortably aware that he had probably looked like an idiot bursting in like an avenging angel.
"I assume you know what transpired in the Great Hall?" Minerva began.
"Yes, but Harry didn't тАУ"
"I am well aware that Mr Potter did not stick the furniture to the ceiling," McGonagall interrupted firmly.
"You are?" The question burst out of both Snape and Harry simultaneously. McGonagall ruthlessly suppressed her mirth at the identical looks of astonishment both wore.
"Yes. Mr Potter, as it is apparent that you are paying more attention to this conversation than to contemplating your earlier misbehavior, you might as well come and join us." Sheepishly, Harry trotted out of the corner and took the indicated chair in front of her desk. Snape, after a moment of hesitation, took the chair next to him.
"If you are aware that Potter wasn't responsible for the events in the Great Hall, then why was he standing in the corner?" Snape asked suspiciously.
Harry blushed crimson, and McGonagall, after a swift glance at him, replied, "The behavior in question was not something that I would normally consider serious enough to warrant parental notification. I suggest you allow me to handle minor disciplinary matters within my own House."
Snape opened his mouth to protest, but he saw Harry's expression of relief and decided against it. He would find out from Minerva later, when the brat was no longer present.
"How did you know that Potter was innocent?" he asked instead.
"Albus was unable to restore the furniture on his first try," she replied simply.
Snape rocked back in his seat in surprise, but Harry stared from one professor to the other in confusion.
"Mr Potter, do you imagine that a simple Sticking hex, or indeed any magic done by a mere student, should pose a challenge to Professor Dumbledore?" McGonagall asked. Harry's mouth formed an "o" of sudden understanding. "Exactly," she nodded at him. "The magic used to affix the tables and chairs to the ceiling was both strong and complex. Not the sort of magic a student could do."
"In addition, it is unlikely that a student тАУ whether acting alone or in concert with others тАУ would have the magical strength and skill to move all the furtniture quickly and quietly enough to avoid detection," Snape added, not to be outdone.
"So who's doing it?" Harry demanded.
"That, Mr Potter, is the question." Although she was ostensibly talking to Harry, McGonagall's eyes were on Snape's.
"But, Professor, if you knew it wasn't me, then why'd you take me out of the Great Hall like that?" Harry asked, a bit aggrieved.
"Mr Potter, do try to think," McGonagall scolded him. "We have a mysterious opponent who is obviously attempting to get you into trouble. Why should I reveal that we are onto him or her, thereby forcing him deeper into the shadows and motivating him to attempt ever more outrageous stunts? Do you not think it better to mislead him or her?" Harry's jaw hung open, and only Snape's years of training prevented his from doing the same. Who would have thought the Head of Gryffindor was capable of such Slytherin cunning? "My intention was to bring you here so that we could discuss the matter in private. However," she gave him a Look, "your actions prevented my explaining this to you."
Harry flushed. He was such an idiot! Here was Professor McGonagall looking out for him, nearly as good as his da did, and first chance he got, he screamed and shouted and practically threw things at her.
"Now then," she continued, "there are additional matters that Professor Snape and I have to discuss that do not concern you, and I believe you have several minutes of your punishment remaining." She nodded pointedly at the corner, and with an embarrassed glance at his da, Harry slunk back into position.
Once there, he consoled himself with the idea that he could at least eavesdrop on their conversation, but to his disappointment, his wily Head of House cast a Muffliato, and so he was once again left alone with his increasingly penitent thoughts.
He was such a twit not to have trusted Professor McGonagall. Sure she looked a bit scary, but he knew better than to go by appearances. She wasn't friendly like Professor Flitwick or huggy the way Professor Sprout was, but hadn't she saved him from the troll? And made sure to take good care of Hermione after she was so exhausted when Quirrel/Voldesnort had attacked him over the Quidditch pitch?
Harry cursed himself for being such an idiot. Professor McGonagall was just like his da тАУ she liked to act all grouchy and strict, but she really cared about her students and protected them fiercely. And how did he repay all her past kindnesses to him? By screaming at her and being outrageously rude. And even then, all she did was send him to the corner to think about what he'd done. Harry sniffled miserably. He was ungrateful and stupid andтАж A touch on his shoulder made him start, and he turned to find Professor McGonagall looking down on him with a tinge of concern in her eyes, though her features were, as usual, stern and forbidding.