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drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. "I see what Bellatrix meant," said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, "you need to really mean it."
"Potter!" whispered Professor McGonagall, clutching her heart. "Potter--- you're here! What---? How---?" She struggled to pull herself together. "Potter, that was foolish!"
"Oh, are we allowed to say the name now?" asked Luna with an air of interest, pulling off the Invisibility Cloak. The appearance of a second outlaw seemed to overwhelm Professor McGonagall, who staggered backward and fell into a nearby chair, clutching at the neck of her old tartan dressing gown.
"He spat at you," said Harry.
"Potter, I --- that was very --- gallant of you --- but don't you realize --?"
"Yeah, I do," Harry assured her. Somehow her panic steadied him. "Professor McGonagall, Voldemort's on the way."
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