LXXVII. FROSTY FRIENDSHIPS

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That evening, Mia was sitting in the common room, her hair in two plaits with a blue and purple striped top on with a pair of wide-leg light blue denim jeans and black and white trainers as she, Harry and Ron simply sat admiring the Firebolt from every angle, until the portrait hole opened, and Hermione came in, accompanied by Professor McGonagall. 

Though Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor House, Harry had only seen her in the common room once before, and that had been to make a very grave announcement. Mia, Harry and Ron all stood up and stared at her, all holding the Firebolt as the ginger girl was in the middle of them. Hermione walked around them, sat down, picked up the nearest book and hid her face behind it.

"So that's it, is it?" said Professor McGonagall beadily, walking over to the fireside and staring at the Firebolt. "Miss Granger has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Potter."

Mia, Harry and Ron looked around at Hermione. They could see her forehead reddening over the top of her book, which was upside-down.

"May I?" said Professor McGonagall, but she didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of their hands. Mia opened her mouth to speak back, but held her tongue. She examined it carefully from handle to twig-ends. "Hmm. And there was no note at all, Potter? No card? No message of any kind?"

"No," said Mia blankly.

"I see. . . " said Professor McGonagall. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Potter."

"W-what?" said Mia in shock. "Why?"

"It will need to be checked for jinxes," said Professor McGonagall. "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down. . . ."

"Strip it down?" repeated Ron, as though Professor McGonagall was mad.

"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks," said Professor McGonagall. "You will have it back if we are sure it is jinx-free."

"What the fuck?" Mia said, her temper getting the better of her as there was the same cold glint in her eye that James had when he was angry, "there's nothing wrong with it!"

"You can't know that, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, quite kindly, "not until you've flown it, at any rate, and I'm afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed."

Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Harry stood staring after her, a look of disbelief on his face while his sister had her jaw clenched in anger. Ron, however, rounded on Hermione.

"What did you go running to McGonagall for?"

Hermione threw her book aside. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron defiantly.

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