Minerva McGonagall had been informed, by Severus Snape, that she was to mind the weekly Quiddich Chaos that Potter and Malfoy were routinely causing, that weekend. If she hadn't long experience with the particular twists of this Slytherin's mind, she'd have taken umbrage, and they'd have played out a yelling match all round the staffroom. She'd have done that anyway if asked in public, of course, and he knew it. "And you'll be?" she'd asked instead. Sometimes it was useful to have a feline form, it excused all sorts of rudeness for the sake of curiousity.
"Otherwise occupied." Snape said firmly, "I leave you the front row seat to Potter discovering exactly what he did in Potions class."
Minerva's eyebrows went up, just a smidge, "No one's told him yet?"
Snape shook his head, "I imagine he was occupied, as were many, with observing the Twins' detention yesterday."
Minerva asked, "How did that go, anyway?"
Snape shrugged, his face relaxing slight, "Filch was pleased. Apparently you and Dumbledore had conspired against him to never let him supervise a detention by the two fools."
Minerva paused, looked at Snape, and then said, consideringly, "I do think you're right. How strange. I generally give at least two of my detentions per term to Filch."
Snape shrugged, "Filch worked them from before dawn, until nearly midnight. He was smiling by the end,"
Minerva twitched at that, "Are the young adults still capable of forward momentum?"
Snape nodded, the corners of his thin lips twitching, before being pulled down into a frown. "They, by all accounts, and I assure you Slytherin accounts are quite reliable, had fun."
Minerva looked at Snape like he was capable of performing miracles. "You are a credit to your house, and to all of Britain. I bow to your superior wisdom."
Snape, as usual, looked smug.
Minerva had hurried down to the Quiddich pitch - by which she meant that she'd ascended to Gryffindor's Tower, and descended again on the shoulder of Ron Weasley. He made quite an imposing leaning post, tall as he was. Everyone knew her markings in catform, although Ginny Weasley looked like she was considering something more elaborate than just Minerva's eyeglass markings.
Minerva hopped off Ron's shoulder once she was close to the pitch, changing shape in midair - and nearly without skipping a step. Ron whistled lowly from behind her.
When she got to the Quiddich pitch (already the stands were coated in a thin covering of students from all four houses), her heart sunk a bit. Draco Malfoy was there, looking neat as a pin, as always. Clearly waiting for Potter.
And that - that meant that he meant to have that kiss out with Potter, right in front of every witness possible. This wasn't even going to be gossip, she realized. Just a conflagration.
[a/n: It's funny that Minerva doesn't think of Snape as Severus, very much, in her head. At least not when he's teaching.
Review? How do you think Draco's going to break the news? What's Harry gonna do?]