Glamour

Fight

The thrill of flying had not diminished since his first time on a broom as a tiny first year. The added rush of having just won the first match of the year against Slytherin drew an overjoyed whoop from the excited seeker.

Not five minutes later the joy had been obliterated by a foul comment from Malfoy. Harry found himself holding George back as the angry beater tried to rush the Slytherin. Just across from him his teammates held back an equally angry Fred.

"...Or can you remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it" Malfoy laughed wafting a hand in front of his face slightly as if to wave of the smell.

Harry was not aware of releasing George, all he knew was that a second later both of them were sprinting at Malfoy. He forgot where they were, and the crowd of teachers and students around them.

All he could see was red. He just wanted to cause Malfoy pain. He forgot about his wand, wanting to feel it as he hurt the snickering blond.

"HARRY! GEORGE! NO!" He could hear girls' voices screaming, Malfoy yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing, and the bellowing of the crowd around him, but he did not care.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" and only when he was knocked over backward by the force of the spell did he abandon the attempt to punch every inch of Malfoy he could reach.

"What do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch, as Harry leapt to his feet again. "I've never seen behaviour like it, back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now!"

Harry's mind swirled as he walked up towards McGonagall's office, George muttering under his breath as he stormed alongside him. The roar of the crowd slowly faded until all they could hear was their own footsteps. As his mind cleared, Harry began to hate himself for what he had done. This was exactly the sort of thing he was trying to be better than. His father would have done exactly what he did just now, and that made it even worse.

They had barely reached the door of Professor McGonagall's office when she came marching along the corridor behind them. She was wearing a Gryffindor scarf, but tore it from her throat with shaking hands as she strode toward them, looking livid.

"In!" she said furiously, pointing to the door. Harry and George entered. She strode around behind her desk and faced them, quivering with rage as she threw the Gryffindor scarf aside onto the desk. "Well?" she said. "I have never seen such a disgraceful exhibition. Two onto one! Explain yourselves!"

"Malfoy provoked us," said George said stiffly.

"Provoked you?" shouted Professor McGonagall, slamming a fist onto her desk so that her tartan biscuit tin slid sideways off it and burst open, littering the floor with Ginger Newts. "He'd just lost, hadn't he, of course he wanted to provoke you! But what on earth he can have said that justified what you two dared to do."

"He insulted my parents," snarled George. "And Harry's mother."

"But instead of leaving it to Madam Hooch to sort out, you two decided to give an exhibition of Muggle duelling, did you?" bellowed Professor McGonagall. "Have you any idea what you've done?"

"Hem, hem." George and Harry both spun around. Umbridge was standing in the doorway wrapped in a green tweed cloak that greatly enhanced her resemblance to a giant toad, and smiling in the horribly sickly, ominous way that Harry had come to associate with imminent misery. "May I help, Professor McGonagall?" asked Professor Umbridge in her most poisonously sweet voice. Blood rushed into Professor McGonagall's face.

"Help?" she repeated in a constricted voice. "What do you mean, 'help'?" Professor Umbridge moved forward into the office, still smiling her sickly smile.