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Harry sat propped up in bed, the white linen sheets of the hospital bed draped over his legs. He was eating a package of 'Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans' that had been left for him by an admirer while flipping idly through the pages of Quidditch Through the Ages. Hermione had brought the book to him after hearing Harry complain how boring it was being cooped up in the hospital wing all day. It really could get quite tiresome, being looked after every day by Madame Pomfrey and not allowed to go anywhere or do anything. He felt much better now, he didn’t see why she couldn’t let him at least go sit by the lake with Ron and Hermione for a little while.
Just then the door opened. Harry closed his book, excited to have a visitor and someone to talk to. Hoping particularly for one of his friends, he was rather taken a back when Professor McGonagall walked into the room and came to stand next to his bed.
“Potter,” she said, giving him a nod as she eyed the chair next to his bed, then seemed to decide against sitting in it, standing behind it while grasping the back instead. She opened her mouth as though to speak, then seemed to hesitate and closed it once more. Harry had never seen her at a loss for words before, she usually had a plentiful supply of them, and then they were usually stern. She looked down at the chair, then quickly back up at him, blinking rapidly.
“I’m sorry.” The words came quickly, but in a much more tender tone than Harry had ever heard her use before and he thought that he detected a small quaver in her voice. He didn’t have time to assess her face however as she turned quickly from him to look out of the window beside his bed, her back now to him. Harry said nothing. Professor McGonagall was apologizing - to him?
“I - I should have listened to what you and Mr Weasley and Ms Granger had to say. I’m very sorry ... that you had to go through that alone.” She sighed deeply and turned from the window, finally sitting in the chair next to Harry’s bed. She fixed him with her piercing gaze. “And I am very much relieved that you are all right. You gave us quite a scare for a moment there.” And she ever so gently reached out and grasped his hand in hers.
Harry looked up at her with new eyes.
“Thanks, Professor,” he said, giving her a small smile.
“Your parents would be so proud of you,” she said quietly.
Harry smiled up at her. He knew she had been their professor, and their head of house, besides making them both prefects.
“Would - would you tell me more about them sometime?” Harry asked hesitantly.
“Of course.” She gave him the smallest smile back. And then, just as quickly as it had come, the gentle Professor was gone and back was the businesslike one as she released Harry’s hand and stood briskly from the chair.
“Well Mr Potter, don’t be eating too many of those sweets. I shall see you at the End of Term feast?”
“If Madame Pomfrey says I’m well enough to go.”
“Well, we will have to wait for her assessment then.” She stopped and looked at him once more, eyes roving over his face. “Have a good afternoon, Harry.”
“You too, Professor.”
And with that Professor McGonagall was gone, and so was a side of her that Harry considered himself lucky to have been allowed to see.