Harry sighed and focused on the professor, who nodded and led him up to her office. She had a large tapestry on the wall of a lion streaking through a forest after what looked like a deer. Harry was looking at it when Professor McGonagall asked, "How are you, really, Harry?"
Harry turned around, wondering if he needed to be on his guard. But Professor McGonagall had taken off her hat and put it on her desk, and she just looked tired. He smiled at her. "I'm all right, professor."
"I wish there was something I could do to change things back to the way they were."
Harry just nodded, not saying anything. He wasn't sure that he wanted things to go back to the way they were. On the one hand, if they did, he would be Harry Potter again, with a normal name and the looks and friends he was used to. On the other hand, he would still be a kidnapped child, without parents, and with the fact that he'd have to go back to the Dursleys during the summer.
"I don't know that I can do anything, legally," Professor McGonagall continued, sticking her jaw out a little. "But if you are unhappy, I will do everything I can to remove you from the Malfoys' custody."
She doesn't care whose kid I am. That flowed through Harry like warm milk, and he thought it made his smile a little warmer, too. He shook his head. "No. I mean, it's still new, and we have to get used to each other. I have to get used to looking like this. But I think I made up with Ron on the train today, and I want to be a Gryffindor."
"If someone gives you trouble because of your family, you are to come to me at once, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall paused a moment, then sighed and said, "I mean, Mr. Malfoy. Do you understand?"
"Thanks, professor," Harry said, and beamed at her. "But Ron was the only one who was saying things I really minded, and like I said, I think I made up with him."
Professor McGonagall nodded. "That is good news, Mr. Malfoy. I would hate to hear that you lost your oldest friendship because there was—nonsense in the past."
That was probably the only way she would ever refer to it, Harry thought. But that made him sigh with relief. He would be irritated if all the professors made as big a deal as his—his family did. "Thanks, professor. Um, one question?"
"Yes?"
"How are you going to distinguish between me and Draco in the classes we share? I mean, now that we have the same last name?"
"I presume that where I am looking will be sufficient distinction, Mr. Malfoy, as I am not in the habit of turning my back on my classes."
Harry nodded and left the office, both cowed and relieved. Professor McGonagall was going to be the same as ever, yes, but at least that meant at least one professor didn't plan to call him by the compromise of a first name he still didn't entirely like.
As he came down the last flight of stairs and turned towards the Great Hall, Harry jolted to a stop. Professor Snape was standing near the top of the staircase that led to the dungeons, staring at him.
His eyes were—devastated.
That was the only word Harry could come up with, but it wasn't one he wanted to come up with. He nodded briskly and strode past the professor towards the Great Hall, hoping that the man wouldn't try to speak to him.
He didn't. Harry slid in next to Ron at the Gryffindor table with a sigh, nodded to Draco, and began filling his plate.
"Have some potatoes, Harry," Ron said, with every indication of cheer, pushing the plate over.
Harry smiled, then. Yes, everything was as normal as it was going to get.