Harry was actually pleased that he was heading to transfiguration. He missed McGonagall. She'd been rather crucial to helping him sort his life out after the war. He'd gotten used to her being around all the time, and then he'd had his mishap through time, and been away from Hogwarts for a few weeks. Now she was just out of reach.

Harry didn't know if that was torture or a mercy. If he was around her more, he'd have to act like a fifth year, not an eighth. He couldn't ask her advice like he used to. And damn it all, a McGonagall hug and advice over tea sounded like the best thing. 

Once class had started, McGonagall talked about the OWL for awhile. Then they started working on the vanishing spell.

Harry knew that it was a tricky spell, but he'd gotten it years ago. So he didn't understand why he was having trouble now. He could feel his magic going, but then it was like something was blocking it from actually forming into the spell.

It felt like there was a stopper on his magic, so that it couldn't leave the bottle- him. Any spells he did cast felt like they'd escaped a leaky cork. They were flimsy, and delayed. Harry hadn't even been this bad in first year. The same thing had happened in the Chamber of Secrets, when he'd cast lumos. 

Malfoy and Zabini were giving Harry looks out of the corner of their eyes, though Harry was too engrossed in his predicament to notice. Eventually McGonagall stopped in front of his desk.

"Mr. Potter? May I have a word with you?" She asked.

Harry nodded, and followed her out of the classroom and into the hall. It was only once she'd closed the door behind her that she spoke again to Harry.

"Are you doing alright? In slytherin?" She asked. Harry noticed the worry.

"No- er, I'm fine in slytherin, that's not my problem right now." Harry frowned.

"If you are sure you're fine. Then what is your problem?" McGonagall asked. "I noticed that your pronunciation and movement are precise, you aren't doing anything wrong."

Harry frowned. "That's what I don't understand. I think... Something's wrong with my magic. Even lumos is slow and awkward."

"Show me." She said, her gaze becoming analytical.

"Lumos." Harry cast, and after a beat, the light flickered into being. "Nox." It sputtered out.

McGonagall frowned. "Your patronus?"

"Expecto Patronum." Harry tried. For a moment, there was a tiniest wisp of silver. "I really thought that would go better." Harry admitted.

"Did this happen during the dementor attack?" She asked.

"No. I made a corporeal patronus. My stag." Harry said.

Her frown deepened. "How long has this been happening?"

"Since I got to Hogwarts." Harry said.

"Have you had any bursts of accidental magic?"

"A few.  At number twelve." Harry said quietly.

She nodded for a moment. "Normally I wouldn't condone this... But would you mind trying to do that? Something non- harmful."

Harry's eyes shot wide. "I... I guess..." Harry focused, and tried to remember what he'd felt when the Order was arguing. He felt a slight hum of magic just under his skin. He let it out. 

McGonagall went eerily still for a moment, and Harry thought he saw the wispy oil spill colored threads, but he wasn't sure. She took a deep breath. "When you cast a spell... Where do you feel the magic? In your body or your wand?"

"My body." Harry answered.

"And how does your wand feel?"

"Like a wand?" Harry said.

"Does it feel like your wand?"

"No." Harry said softly in realization, looking at the wand in his hand. "It doesn't."

McGonagall stood straighter. "I think there's your problem, Mr. Potter. This evening, I will arrange for us to take a brief trip to Mr. Ollivander's. I believe we can learn more there."

"I can't do that tonight. I have detention with Umbridge." Harry said. "I think I do the rest of the week."

McGonagall tapped her fingers on her wand. "I will see if I can postpone-"

"Professor," Harry interrupted. "She's Ministry. I'd rather not have her involved, or get you in trouble."

"I see." She said determinedly. "In that case, do your best for the remainder of the week. I will arrange for our venture this weekend."

"Thank you, Professor." Harry said.

"Now, I do believe you are missing class, Mr. Potter." McGonagall said pointedly, and opened the classroom door again.

Harry made his way back to his seat, where Malfoy had vanished his snail. Harry sighed.

"What did she want?" Zabini asked.

"Just to check in. She's been my Head of House for a long time." Harry said.

"The favoritism you are shown never ceases to astound me." Malfoy said dully.

Harry looked at Malfoy. "I didn't ask for favoritism, Malfoy. And it certainly doesn't make up for the bullshit in my life."

Malfoy's brow quirked. "Such language from the golden boy."

"Malfoy." Harry said.

"Yes?" Malfoy asked.

"Don't call me that again."

"Why ever not?"

"If you do, you'll end up on the floor." 

"My my, that's mighty suggestive, golden boy." 

Harry turned back to his snail.

"Oh? Not going to follow through?" Malfoy asked.

"I didn't say when." Harry replied, and then ignored Malfoy for the remainder of class.

~~~

On the way to History of Magic, Harry swiped Malfoy's feet out from under him by muggle means. Then, with the ingrained skill of speed, Harry bolted around the corner, halfway down a corridor, and swung open a painting that hid a secret passageway.

It was a different route to class, but he maintained a decent enough speed that he still made it to class on time. He even arrived before Malfoy and Zabini, despite taking the longer way. 

"The portraits said you hadn't come this way." Malfoy hissed, taking a seat.

"I took a long route." Harry said.

Zabini sat between Harry and Malfoy. "Dang. You're fast." 

Harry was certain Zabini did not know which route he had taken.

History of Magic was as boring as always. Even Malfoy wasn't immune to the endless droning of Professor Binns. Harry spent the period writing out the defensive and offensive spells he knew, and their uses. He hoped it looked like he was taking notes.

At some point, Zabini noticed, and became absorbed in deciphering Harry's handwriting. There were spells that he knew, ones that had him frown, stifle a giggle, eyes widen, or think of the possibilities... Evidently this was far more interesting than the actual lesson, and Parkinson started looking over his shoulder too, from the row behind.

Harry felt a bit exposed, revealing all his spells like that. So he kept the better ones off the page. Revealing his entire arsenal would be simply idiotic.

While he recalled the spells, he wondered what could be wrong with his wand. Maybe the Ministry had done something to it, or swapped it out for one that looked identical. That seemed like the most plausible answer, except that they'd only had his wand for a second, and it never left Harry's sight. Not enough time to be tampered with.

Harry ate some at lunch, though he didn't have much of an appetite. 

"I didn't realize you were so awful at transfiguration." Malfoy commented.

Harry ignored him.

Malfoy made several other attempts to catch Harry's attention. "Potter, are you ignoring me?"

Harry looked pointedly to gryffindor table, where he awkwardly made eye contact with Ron. Ron looked down at his plate, and poked at his food with his fork. Harry sighed.

"Potter." Malfoy said.

Harry prodded at his own food.

"Potter." Malfoy said.

Harry took a drink.

"Potter, have you gone deaf?" Malfoy hissed.

"Careful there, Draco," Zabini said to Malfoy, "You're sounding a bit desperate."

Malfoy then turned to argue quietly with Zabini. 

After lunch was another care of magical creatures, before double charms. Harry had the same problem with his magic. Malfoy sniggered at his failed attempts.

~~~

Harry found himself at Umbridge's office. 

"Come in." She said in a sugary voice. 

In the days when Gilderoy Lockhart had lived here it had been plastered in beaming portraits of himself. When Lupin had occupied it, it was likely you would meet some fascinating Dark creature in a cage or tank if you came to call. In the impostor Moody's days it had been packed with various instruments and artifacts for the detection of wrong doing and concealment. 

Now, however, it looked totally unrecognizable. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each one residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolor kitten wearing a different bow around its neck.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter." She was wearing a luridly flowered set of robes that matched the tablecloth behind her.

"Evening." Harry replied.

"Well, sit down." She pointed towards a small table, also draped in lace, with a sheet of parchment placed upon it. A straight backed chair had been drawn for it.

Harry dropped his bag beside the chair and sat down.

"Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me. And you'll be using a very special quill of mine, no need to get yours out." She handed him the long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point. "I want you to write I must not tell lies." 

There it was.

"How many times?" Harry asked stiffly.

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in." She said sweetly. "Off you go."

She moved over to her desk, and sat down to mark papers.

"You haven't given me any ink." Harry said blandly.

"Oh, you won't need any ink." She said, a hint of a laugh in her voice.

Harry set the quill to the parchment, and braced himself for the pain. He clenched his jaw as I must not tell lies scratched itself into the back of his hand, and healed over a moment later. Again and again, the words were etched, and healed. Harry felt sick.

Harry didn't bother to check the time. He knew he'd be here far past sunset.

Eventually, she spoke. "Come here."

Harry stood, his hand stinging. 

"Hand." She said.

Harry held it out. He repressed a shudder when she took it into her own, stubby fingers clad in a number of rings.

She tutted. "I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet." She smiled. "Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go."

Harry left without a word. The school was deserted, and Harry was sure it was past midnight. He walked slowly away from her office. Each step agitated a slight sting on his hand, likely from the blood flow. When he was far enough away, he took off in a sprint. The stinging from each step blended together, as he was running to fast for the pain to fade.

When Harry slipped into his room, he ducked quietly into the bathroom and took a brief shower. He dried off, tugged on pajamas, and went to bed. It took a while to drift off, but when he did, he was out for the night.

~~~

"Potter, wake up-"

Harry snapped upright, wand at Zabini's throat.

Zabini's eyes went wide. Harry blinked, then lowered his wand. "Er, sorry."

"Good to know we have an angry sleeper." Zabini said slowly.

Malfoy looked at Harry oddly. 

"What were you doing up so late?" Zabini asked as Harry got out of bed.

"What?" Harry asked, grabbing his robes and yawning.

"You took a shower in the middle of the night." Malfoy said.

"At least it was a fast one." Zabini said pointedly to Malfoy.

"I took the shower right after I got back from detention." Harry said. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"She had you up till midnight?" Zabini asked.

"What were you doing?" Malfoy frowned.

"Lines." Harry said.

"She had you doing lines for seven hours?" Zabini exclaimed.

"Yeah."

"Bloody hell. How many bottles of ink did you go through?" Zabini asked.

Harry didn't answer. He walked into the bathroom, and changed into his robes. His hand had mostly healed overnight, and Harry could only see it because he knew the mark so well. He followed the other two out to breakfast.

Harry had realized they were practically a guard at this point. Nobody besides Malfoy or Zabini would mess with him, because it was Zabini and Malfoy who were there. Those two seemed to be the biggest figures in slytherin, and you didn't get on the bosses' bad side.

For breakfast that morning, he had a piece of toast and some hot chocolate. Harry wished he was at Grimmauld place, with Sirius and Remus. He'd take Mrs. Black's screaming every day if it meant that he got to be with the two of them.

A/N

Sorry, I would've had the chapter up sooner, but the last few days have been absolutely hectic. 

Happy Friday!