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.
"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 came up with, 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 detention! And if either of you ever..."
"Hem, hem."
Professor McGonagall closed her eyes as though praying for patience as she turned her face toward 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, "they reside in my house so it is my decision as to what they deserve, Dolores."
"Actually, Minerva," simpered Umbridge, "I think you'll find that what I think does count. Now, where is it? Cornelius just sent it..." she gave a little false laugh as she rummaged in her handbag, pulling out a piece of parchment that she unfurled with a smug flourish, clearing her throat fussily before starting to read what it said. "Hem, hem. 'Educational Decree Number Twenty-five.'"
"Not another one!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall violently.
"Well, yes," said Umbridge, still smiling. "As a matter of fact, Minerva, it was you who made me see that we needed further assistance. You remember how you overrode me, when I was unwilling to allow the Gryffindor Quidditch team to re-form? How you took the case to Dumbledore, who insisted that the team be allowed to play? Well now, I couldn't have that. I contacted the Minister at once, and he quite agreed with me that the High Inquisitor has to have the power to strip pupils of privileges, or she would have less authority than common teachers! You must see, don't you, Minerva, how right I was in attempting to stop the Gryffindor team re-forming? Dreadful tempers. Anyway, I was reading out our amendment... hem, hem... 'The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions, and removals of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. Signed, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class, etc., etc...'"
She rolled up the parchment and put it back into her handbag, still smiling. "So, I really think I will have to ban these two from playing Quidditch ever again," she said, looking from Harry to George and back again.
"Ban us?" Harry said, and his voice sounded strangely distant. "From playing... ever again?"
"Yes, Mr. Potter, I think a lifelong ban ought to do the trick," said Umbridge, her smile widening still further as she watched him struggle to comprehend what she had said. "You and Mr. Weasley here. And I think, to be safe, this young man's twin ought to be stopped too. If his teammates had not restrained him, I feel sure he would have attacked young Mr. Malfoy as well. I will want their broomsticks confiscated, of course; I shall keep them safely in my office, to make sure there is no infringement of my ban. Then a week of detention for the both of you to help you see the error of your ways. But I am not unreasonable, Professor McGonagall," she continued, turning back to Professor McGonagall who was now standing as still as though carved from ice, staring at her. "The rest of the team can continue playing for now, I saw no signs of violence from any of them. Well not yet at least. Good afternoon to you." She turned and strode out with a look of utmost satisfaction, leaving a horrified silence in her wake.
"Professor..." Harry said stepping towards his head of house, who seemed more frail than he had ever seen her. "Are you ok?"
"I think the both of you have done enough for today." Professor McGonagall said tersely straightening herself and walking to the bureau behind her desk. "I suggest you both return to your common room. I trust you understand the severity of your actions today."
Harry nodded glumly and left the office, feeling George close behind him. As they reached the tapestry of Healer Morton tending to a sick dragon on the sixth floor, George pulled him to the hidden room behind it, engulfing Harry in a hug. Harry froze for a second before returning the embrace. They stood in silence for a few moments finding comfort in each other.
George broke the hug first, stepping back and looking around before perching on an old crate. Harry sat next to him finally letting go of the snitch he had been holding since the end of the match. They watched it flutter round the room with a low buzz.
"I'm sorry Harry, if Fred and I hadn't reacted first..."
"Its my fault too. I threw just as many punches." Harry admitted quietly leaning his head against George's shoulder.
"Urgh, if Malfoy wasn't such a prick" George reached up to grab the snitch, missing it by a hairs breadth causing Harry to snicker slightly.
"Yeah, but what he said is not worse than anything we have done to him over the years." Harry sat up straight looking George in the eye. "Between the pranks and the hexes, not to mention everything we've said, its not surprising he retaliates."
"I still don't like the git" George muttered to himself. Harry grinned and rolled his eyes, reaching out to snatch up the snitch from where it hovered just above Georges left ear. He turned it over carefully in his hand. His stomach felt upset, like he had to do something. It was just he wasn't sure what.
"I'm going to apologise" He stated. The coiling feeling in his gut lessened slightly, letting him know this was the right decision.
"Really? I know you are turning over a new leaf Harry, but this is Malfoy we're taking about."
"Exactly. If I can call a truce between us it will go a long way in making things much more pleasant around here."
"Your funeral." George said, standing up and stretching, "I think I'm going to see if Fred is okay, you coming?"
"I think I am going to head to the owlery and see Hedwig. I want to think over a few things." They parted ways and as Harry walked down towards the owlery, the guilt over his actions fully set in and he couldn't believe he had thrown away all those weeks of work over a stupid comment and now he lost his flying privileges. He needed to figure out how to control his temper. It was all well and good wearing his heart on his sleeve, but he needed self control. An image of his father hexing Snape in the pensive came to mind and Harry shivered, while he hadn't been unprovoked today, he had acted just like that arrogant bully.
---------
Harry left the owlery that evening feeling slightly better than he had earlier. Although he had no letters to send to Hedwig, the half hour he spent sat talking to her had calmed him down after the events of the afternoon. As much as he would miss flying, his removal from the Quidditch team came with some relief. He was no longer beholden to the insane practice schedules and fickle favour of his housemates depending on whether they won or lost a match. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he spotted a familiar blond. Swallowing his pride he walked up to him, ready to do the other task he had set his mind to earlier.
"Malfoy, I would like to apologise for how I reacted after the quidditch game." he began, bowing his head slightly as he had seen the Slytherin's do to each other. "It was out of bounds and I overreacted. I hope I did not harm you too much."
"What? And you think apologising will fix it" Malfoy sneered. "Or do you have your little friends waiting to hex me round the corner?"
"No, its just me."
"Well I do not accept." He huffed. "First you are far too below me for it to mean a thing, second, I will not accept the false apologies of a buffoon."
"Oh" Harry faltered, he expected some derision from his long term rival, but he hoped that his apology would at least be accepted. "Well... I... I'm still sorry. For everything."
Malfoy just huffed and stalked past Harry, barging into his shoulder as he passed. Harry leaned against the castle wall and stared at his retreating form swallowing against the building feeling in his chest. He knew he had messed up many things, but the thought that his actions may be beyond redemption.
He would still try. He could not give up now. Everything he was changing now was to make up for the person he had become since starting Hogwarts. He laughed to himself slightly. His ten year old self would not recognise who he had become. He would hate that he had turned into a copy of Dudley.
Pushing off the wall, he walked back towards the dorms. Curfew was approaching and he could not afford to be caught wandering at night. The tarot cards he read two weeks ago had said to trust his gut so that is what he would do. As painful as change could be, it would be worth it in the end.