When they arrived at her office, she opened the door, and gestured for him to enter, "After you, Mister Malfoy," he stepped passed her, "please take a seat," he did as he was instructed, resisting the urge to slump down into the chair; McGonagall sat opposite him, her desk between them, "Oh for goodness sake, have a cup of tea," she snapped, rapping her wand against the teapot on her desk and pouring him a steaming cup, adding a cube of sugar and stirring in milk without asking how he took it, "your lips have turned blue, you foolish boy - he’s not even been gone an hour and you’re mooning after the boy in the snow like we’re in the middle of some serial romance novel published in Witch Weekly,"