“Yes, well, wouldn’t want to get behind,” Potter stuttered, reaching down to the floor to retrieve the pencil.
“Don’t worry, I know if there was anything else for you to do, you would be off doing that,” McGonagall smiled at him. “Speaking of going off, Hagrid mentioned you seem to be spending a lot of time wandering the grounds after dark. Is that so?”
“I suppose I have been spending a bit of time outside after dark, yeah,” Harry affirmed, trying to sound casual, focusing his gaze back to the folder in front of him.
“Hardly the wisest move, Potter. I’ve heard some of the animals that live in the woods are rather brave this summer, coming close to the castle,” she said in a tone that told Harry if he looked up he would find her squinting down at him suspiciously behind her square frames.
It struck him that maybe she was hoping she would tell him what he had seen. Maybe she had a sneaking suspicion as to what—or who—was roaming the campus and only wanted another person’s input.
“About that,” Harry began, then cut himself off.
“Yes?” McGonagall prompted, rather impatiently.
“Well, uh,” Harry stuttered. He wasn’t quite ready to give up his own inquest into the matter. If he said something, he would likely never knowing , and not knowing was worse than any other outcome he could imagine. “It’s just that Hagrid warned me about some wolf or dog, or whatever.”
“Yes, and you’ve seen it?”
Harry swallowed.
“Only the once. From the window in Hagrid’s hut,” Harry lied.
“And not since?”
“It seems to have made itself scarce,” Harry confirmed.
“Interesting,” McGonagall answered, sounding satisfied. “Please do tell me if you see it again, Potter. Won’t want it wandering about when the students return.”
“Of course,” Harry said, smiling at McGonagall in what he hoped was a convincing manner.
McGonagall nodded and made her way back towards the exit of the library. Harry let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.
Something, he decided, was off. There had been plenty of dangerous things on the Hogwarts grounds in his time there, and McGonagall had rarely bat an eye at him sneaking about, apart from giving the illusion that she was upset with him unless he really mucked up. That, and the fact that he had bested Voldemort many times before he had even finished puberty. It seemed odd to him that something so ordinary as a wolf would cause her to worry so much, especially now that he was a grown man. He immediately regretted not telling her, because if she saw the wolf as a threat, he could have helped. God knows it had been a while since he engaged in any actual defense magic.
She knew something. Just what, he wasn’t sure, but he knew he would need to come clean to find out.
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