MILLIES POV
I was dreading the start of the school term for one reason and one reason only - Snape's detentions. Professor McGonagall still hadn't managed to talk to me, mainly because every time she was in view I would run. I knew that the time would have to come though, and deeply suspected that she would keep me behind in the first Transfiguration lesson back.
The night before term started, I found myself running down the second-floor corridor away from McGonagall when I bumped into someone.
"Oliver!" I straightened up, grabbing his wrist and pulling him around the corner so that we were out of sight from the Professor. "How was your Christmas? Enjoy the party?"
"I did," Oliver growled, and I was surprised to see him looking angry, "until I was told that one of my chasers had three months of detention!"
"Ohhhh," I muttered, biting my lip awkwardly. "Yeah...erm...yeahhh-"
"I swear to Merlin, Millie Donovan," said Oliver, shaking his head exasperatedly, "you better sort something out so that you can still train. I really don't want to lose you as a Chaser."
"I will," I reassured him, mentally slapping myself - never in a million years would Snape let me off of detention. "Oh, and you might want to speak to Harry. He still hasn't got a broomstick-"
"He what-!" Oliver groaned loudly, gripping his hair with his fists. "I expect to see you at practice next week, Millie, or - or I'll-"
He waved his arms wildly, before marching away out-of-sight, leaving me thinking desperately of how I could possibly get Snape to let me off for Quidditch.
~~~~~~~~~~
Lessons started again next day. The last thing I felt like doing was spending two hours in the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for our enjoyment, and we spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing, while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs. The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun; Professor Trelawney was now teaching us palmistry, and she lost no time in informing Harry that he had the shortest life-lines she had ever seen, putting the boy in a very annoyed mood.
It was Defence Against the Dark Arts that I was keen to get to; after my conversation with Oliver, I decided to go to my Godfather for help.
"Please, Professor!" I begged, when I asked him to talk to Snape for me. I was careful in calling him 'Professor' too, what with Harry and Ron standing behind me. "He'll listen to you!"
"I can tell you right now that Professor Snape will not listen to me, Millie," said Lupin softly, shaking his head. "I recommend you go to Professor McGonagall. I can also let my friend know if you like, I'm sure he'd be interested."
I smiled; he was obviously talking about Dad.
"No, thank you," I said, sighing. "I'm sure your friend would come and duel Snape himself if he found out. I'll try and talk to Minnie."
Lupin grinned at my words, not correcting me on calling Professor McGonagall 'Minnie'.
I turned around, trying to keep a straight-face as Harry and Ron looked at me in complete confusion.
"Your turn, H," I said casually, leaning myself against a table.
"Right," muttered Harry, diverting his attention to Lupin. "Sir, I was wondering when we could get started on the Dementor lessons?"
"Ah yes," said Lupin, picking at a small scar on his hand. I frowned - that definitely hadn't been there at the party. "Let me see...how about eight o'clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough...I'll have to think carefully about how we're going to do this...we can't bring a real Dementor into the castle to practice on...and Millie, be careful with Snape, okay? Don't anger him even more than he already is."
I nodded, sending him a quick smile, before leaving the classroom, Ron following me. Harry thanked Lupin and joined us.
"Still looks ill, doesn't he?" said Ron, as we walked off down the corridor, heading to dinner. "What d'you reckon's the matter with him?"
There was a loud and impatient 'tuh' from behind us. It was Mione, who had been sitting at the feet of a suit of armour, repacking her bag, which was so full of books it wouldn't close. I had taken to only carrying the book I needed for the next hour, making quick trips back to the dormitory between classes using the time traveller.
"And what are you tutting at us for?" said Ron irritably.
"Nothing," Mione replied in a lofty voice, heaving her bag back over her shoulder.
"Yes, you were," said Ron, glaring at her. "I said I wonder what's wrong with Lupin, and you-"
"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Mione, with a look of maddening superiority.
"If you don't want to tell us, don't," snapped Ron, turning away from her.
"Fine," said Mione haughtily. "Millie, can I speak to you?"
"Of course," I said eagerly, waving goodbye to a disgruntled Harry and Ron, before walking away with Mione. "What's obvious?"
"Well..." Mione bit her lip, grabbing my wrist to stop us walking.
"What is it?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. "Is something wrong?"
"Millie." She took a deep breath in, looking around to make sure the corridor was empty. "I think Professor Lupin is...a werewolf."
I stared at my best friend in silence.
"Are you alright?" I said finally, my lips curving into a small smile. "I think all this work is messing with your head, Mione. You should do what I do and not do the homework-"
"I'm serious, Millie!" she hissed, nudging me. "That's why he misses classes. His boggart was the moon, for goodness sake, it all makes sense! I don't know how I didn't see it sooner..."
I listened to Mione's rambling in complete disbelief. Surely my godfather wasn't a werewolf. And if he was, did Dad know? The scars...the boggart...the constant illness...Mione was right, it did make sense.
~~~~~~~~~~~
At eight o'clock that evening, I left Gryffindor Tower for Snape's office in the dungeons. I knocked on the door when I arrived and miserably waited for an answer. Five minutes later, after multiple knocks, still no-one had answered the door, so I twisted the door-knob and let myself in.
Snape was sitting behind his desk, sorting through some papers. I purposely slammed the door behind me, before walking in front of the table and crossing my arms. The office was just as I remembered it; gloomy, dimly-lit and cold.
"Professor," I said, and Snape finally looked up at me, a smirk apparent on his face. "I've been knocking for five minutes. Why didn't you open the door?"
"A point from Gryffindor for letting yourself in," said Snape, putting the papers down, "and another one for arriving five minutes late."
"I've been standing outside for five minutes, that's why-!"
"And another for arguing with your superior," Snape sneered, standing up and looking down at me in disgust. "What a brilliant start to your detention."
"Detentions," I corrected him gloomily, crossing my arms around my body even tighter. "You gave me three months of detention, remember?"
"I do," said Snape, a cold smile forming on his lips. He pulled out a large cloth from a drawer in his desk.
"What's that?" I said.
"What's that, Professor," said Snape, pushing the cloth across the table towards me.
I ignored him, my eyes flicking between him and the desk. Snape's upper lip curled into a snarl, placing both his hands on the table.
"Tonight you will be scrubbing every single cauldron in my classroom," he sneered, "without magic."
"Ah, there it is," I grumbled sarcastically, closing my eyes. "Always the 'without magic' twist, huh?"
Snape made a noise that sounded a lot like a growl, making me re-open my eyes.
"And yet it doesn't seem to be working with you, Donovan, does it?"
"Nope," I said fiercely, also placing both of my hands on the desk. "And your ninety-one detentions isn't going to change that, Professor."
His dark smile only grew.
"Well, I suppose I'll have to make it one hundred detentions then, Donovan," he sneered.
I gaped at him. "You wouldn't-"
"I will," said Snape fiercely, "if you don't take this cloth and go to the Potions classroom right now. Get out."
I narrowed my eyes, snatching the cloth up and marching out of the room, slamming the door loudly behind me.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Two hours later, I was still on my hands and knees, my sleeves rolled up to my elbows as I scrubbed my twenty-ninth cauldron. I was sat on the floor, my skirt covered in dust and my arm muscles burning, and I wasn't even half-way done.
"I hate him," I muttered; saying these three words over and over again was what had got me to continue at the cauldrons this whole time. "I hate hi-"
The classroom door swung open so quickly that I dropped the cauldron I was holding with a BANG.
"Minnie?" I said in surprise, wiping my hair from my damp forehead and standing up. "What're you doing here?"
I waited with bated breath for Professor McGonagall to start shouting, but to my utter shock, she pulled out her wand and pointed it at the cauldrons cluttered around on the floor. They instantly flew to their correct places on the shelves, and, making my jaw drop, they looked as good as new.
"Professor," I breathed, gaping at her. "Wha-"
"Oliver Wood has just informed me of your detentions," said Professor McGonagall, peering at me over her spectacles. "He said that you fell over and Professor Snape gave you three months of detention. Is that correct?"
"Yes!" I exclaimed desperately, nodding. "I accidentally knocked him over, that was all-"
"That's all I need to know," said Professor McGonagall, holding a hand out to stop me talking. Her thin lips curved into a small smile, and my eyes widened even more. "I think you have learnt your lesson about knocking teachers over," she added grimly, shaking her head slightly. "The Gryffindor Quidditch team needs you, Miss Donovan. Wood was almost in tears when he told me. I will speak to Professor Snape and get him to rid your remaining detentions. But I want you to swear to me that you will be on your best behaviour, Miss Donovan."
"Yes! Yes, yes, yes!" I squealed, chucking the cloth down on the floor and jumping up and down. "Thank you, Minnie! Thank you so much!"
"And another thing..." I watched as Professor McGonagall took her left arm out from behind her back. Her hand was clasped around something - Harry's Firebolt.
My jaw dropped - it looked as magnificent as ever.
"I've been looking for Mr Potter everywhere, but some students in the Gryffindor common room said he was at dinner about three hours ago. I was going to give it back to him afterwards, but I couldn't find him. No matter, now you can save me the trouble, I'm sure he'll come crawling at the sound of your voice. We've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with the broomstick at all - Potter's got a very good friend somewhere..."
"He can have it back?" I said excitedly. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," said Professor McGonagall, and she was properly smiling now. "I daresay Potter'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match, won't he? And Miss Donovan - do try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night..."
"Of course," I said, accepting the broomstick and holding it close. "Thank you, Minnie, you're the best."
Professor McGonagall waved me out, the smile still on her face.
Speechless, I carried the Firebolt back upstairs towards Gryffindor Tower. As I turned a corner, I saw Harry, Ron, Seamus and Dean standing in an empty corridor, all talking and laughing loudly. I dashed towards them, grinning from ear to ear.
"Harry!"
My boyfriend turned his head at the sound of my voice, smiling. His eyes dropped down to the broomstick in my hands; they nearly popped out of their sockets.
"Mills," he croaked, as the other boys quickly surrounded me, all talking at once.
"How did you get it?"
"Is that a firebolt?"
"I don't believe it-"
"Millie, did you steal it from McGonagall's office?"
"Of course not." I laughed, handing Harry his broomstick. "McGonagall just gave it to me. She said there was nothing wrong with it."
"Bloody hell..." Harry wrapped his arms around me, so tightly that I had to pull away to breath. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me," I said, my heart feeling so much lighter than it had thirty minutes ago. "Thank Minnie."