Chapter 18

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Lifting his hand, he stared at his closed fist for several seconds before shaking himself, sighing and knocking solidly on the door.

"Come in!"

Stepping into the office, Harry glanced around only to start as he realised that, instead of being seated behind her desk, Professor McGonagall was waiting for him in one of the arm chairs at the opposite end of her office. Between the two deep red chairs sat a small table adorned with a tea service. Gentle spirals rose from the tea that was being poured into the fine china cups.

"How do you take your tea, Mister Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked, looking up at him.

Confused, Harry let his mouth answer automatically. "Two sugars and a spot of milk, please."

Slowly, he walked across and sank into the seat indicated to him. The tea cup was placed before him and Professor McGonagall's ever present biscuit tin was set between them.

After a sip of her own tea, Professor McGonagall leant back in her chair and regarded him over her cup.

"I'm sure that you're wondering why I asked you here," she began.

After his cautious nod, she continued.

"Mister Potter ... Harry ... it's come to my attention that I owe you an apology."

Harry's head snapped up. An apology? That was the last thing that he'd been expecting.

"At the end of last year, you came to me with concerns regarding your ... relatives," she stated. "Please believe me when I say that I believed everything that you told me. I believed that your home life was less than satisfactory. How could I not after having watched them all those years ago? I took your concerns directly to the Headmaster, exactly as I promised that I would, and was assured that Headmaster Dumbledore would insure that your home life improved.

"Afterwards, I neglected my duty. As your Head of House, as someone in whom you had confided in, as your parent's friend, I should have checked up on you. I should have made sure that something had been done, that things had changed for you. And for that, I am most terribly sorry."

Feeling his hands trembling, Harry grasped them together. His eyes focussed on the tea pot as his mind whirled. Flicking his eyes up, he took in her face before once again letting his eyes drop. Never before had he had anyone apologise to him. Never had he expected an adult to ever admit that they were wrong or deficient. The entire concept was completely alien to him.

But Professor McGonagall's face showed nothing but sincerity. It was obvious that she meant every word that she said.

At his single nod of acceptance, a sigh escaped his teacher.

"Thank you, Harry," she smiled. "I know that an apology is only a small step, but I truly do want to make it up to you." Here she raised one hand as if to forestall any protest from him. "Not only for not ensuring your well-being this past summer, but also for all the years that you were forced to stay with those people."

Once again, Harry nodded.

"If I may, I'd like to verify a few facts with you?" Professor McGonagall asked. "What were the conditions that you were living in before you ran away from the Dursleys?"

"I ...I was locked in my room," Harry replied hesitantly. "Uncle Vernon had put locks on the door and bars on the window. And there was ... there was a cat flap in the door so that they could push food in to me every now and again."

Professor McGonagall's face darkened even as her eyes flashed with fire.

"Anything else?" she asked.

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