Blood rushed into Professor McGonagall’s face.

“Help?” she repeated, in a constricted voice. “What do you mean, help?”

Professor Umbridge moved forwards into the office, still smiling her sickly smile.

“Why, I thought you might be grateful for a little extra authority—”

Harry would not have been surprised to see sparks fly from Professor McGonagall’s nostrils.

“You thought wrong,” she said, turning her back on Umbridge.

“Now, you two had better listen closely. I do not care what provocation Malfoy offered you, I do not care if he insulted every family member you possess, your behaviour was disgusting and I am giving each of you a week’s worth of detentions! Do not look at me like that, Potter, you deserve it! And if either of you ever—”

“Hem, hem.”

Professor McGonagall closed her eyes as though praying for patience as she turned her face towards Professor Umbridge again.

“Yes?”

“I think they deserve rather more than detentions,” said Umbridge, smiling still more broadly.

Professor McGonagall’s eyes flew open.

“But unfortunately,” she said, with an attempt at a reciprocal smile that made her look as though she had lockjaw, “it is what I think that counts, as they are in my House, Dolores.”

“Well, actually, Minerva,” simpered Professor Umbridge, “I think you’ll find that what I think does count. Now, where is it? Cornelius just sent it… I mean,” she gave a false little laugh as she rummaged in her handbag, “the Minister just sent it… ah yes…”

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Fred and George had realised what Malfoy was talking about. Halfway through shaking Harry’s hand, they stiffened, looking round at Malfoy.	\|	She had pulled out a piece of parchment which she now unfurled, clearing her throat fussily before starting to read what it said.

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