Hermione was all set to snatch it out of his hand before she hesitated with a small start, then more calmly accepted it. "Thank you, Neville," she said.
Harry smirked to her and nodded. He approved. And she smiled back.
After just finishing making their teas, Harry asked, "How did everything go on the trip here and yesterday?"
Neville had only just opened his mouth to reply when they heard the cough of someone trying to get their attention opposite.
With a mental sigh, Harry turned to see who it was. Ernest MacMillan. The boy looked determined, angry and not a little scared. 'Ah!'
Sitting back and up a little straighter he looked the boy full-on and asked, "Something I can help you with, Heir MacMillan?"
Self-fortifying himself first, the other boy said, "Lord Potter. I have come at the request of my Lord to offer you my heartfelt apology for my behaviour I have directed towards you between the start of this school year and today. I―"
Harry interrupted and asked, "What about Second Year, Heir MacMillan? Do you not remember your behaviour towards me throughout that year? Does calling me the Heir of Slytherin not ring any bells with you? Do you not recall what you called me... to my face... in public? And what about the hexes and such in the corridors? How many did you cast at me?
"Secondly, you 'come at the request of your Lord?' At least you're honest in stating apologising to me is not something you actually want to do.
"If you want to apologise, Heir MacMillan, then actually apologise. Make it from the heart or it'll be worthless."
MacMillan, clearly angry, had to close his eyes as he managed to rein his temper in. He knew he had to do this, or his grandfather was going to disown him on the spot as soon as he learned of it. He... had... to do this.
Getting himself back under control, he looked back, took a deep breath and firmly said, "Lord Potter. I have come... to offer you my heartfelt apology for my behaviour I have directed to you over... our time together in the school. I have behaved with... dishonour and in a manner that has brought my House into conflict with you."
As he talked he seemed to get more into it and even managed to calm a little.
"Though... I see now that I was in the wrong and you did not deserve the treatment I caused to befall you. You were undeserving of any of it.
"My... I hope you accept my apology in the spirit it is given and we both may put this matter behind us."
With that last line, MacMillan almost seemed to slump inwards. Obviously, his apology was done.
Harry gave it a long moment for the boy to collect himself before he replied. "Apology accepted. You may inform your Lord I have accepted your apology in the spirit it was given and invite him to speak more of this matter with Lord Longbottom at Lord Longbottom's convenience. Anything else?"
MacMillan looked back for a moment and replied, "No, Lord Potter. Thank you." Then, without waiting for Harry to say anything else, spun about and hurried away.
Harry gave a snort of amusement and returned to his tea.
Neville leaned around Hermione and said, "I think you've just caused anyone who had visions of coming over to demand answers from you to rethink their plan." Then he flicked his eyes to the rest of the Hall.
When Harry glanced up through his eyebrows and looked about he could see what Neville meant. There were quite a few who were staring at him and appeared very reluctant to get on his bad side.
They now knew, more than ever, the meek little orphan boy was gone.
They could also see he was a great deal taller, had filled right out, wasn't wearing his glasses any more and sat with a firm posture. This was no longer the Harry Potter they once thought him to be.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
Dumbledore did not sleep well. He never did in these cells. They never turned the light off completely, only dimmed it down so they could see him if they ever took a peek through the little viewing slot in the door for that purpose.
However, his sleep that night was even worse. That Bones had declared him to be a Dark Lord had really hit home. It was even worse when he quickly realised that, with being declared a Dark Lord, it now meant the prophecy could now be about him and not Tom, as he truly believed.
When the little slot for an auror to peek within would be opened about an hour after he'd been given his meagre breakfast, he knew―
He heard the bolt on the outside of the door give its distinctive deep 'shh-clunk', signalling the door was about to be opened. And then it was.
The same two burly aurors as the previous day stepped in. The senior of the two said simply, "Prisoner, stand."
With a sigh he rose to his feet and held out his hands held close before him, bent at the elbows with his wrists inches apart. A few seconds later and the magic-inhibiting manacles were firmly affixed.
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