"No, she's been a rampage. Sweeping up and down the halls, eyes peeled for Dark Magic. She's really torn up that this sort of thing happened under her watch. She's always sworn she wouldn't let things like this happen again."

While it was nice to know a headmaster/mistress was making an effort to be very involved, Harry didn't want McGonagall to blame herself.

"It's not her fault."

"Of course not. But don't we all feel at least a bit responsible when a child is injured?"

He had a point.

"Listen," Neville said. "I'm debating on what to bring Albus when I visit tonight...at first, I thought the typical Chocolate Frogs, but Ginny told Luna and me this morning that he can't keep any food down, so now I'm thinking something different..."

Harry and Neville walked down the corridor together, talking about what gifts to bring Albus, their eyes scanning with practiced precision over everybody they passed. Neville might've been right—every adult felt responsible for every kid. But it had been Harry's kid. And he'd failed the most. He'd failed to de-escalate the situation. He'd failed to realize Halloran was plotting. And Harry vowed to never make that same mistake again.