For the Wordcount Drabble Challenge – Wordcount must be exactly 650.

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"Hey!" Colin frowns, and he feels his eyes narrow at the sight of a large boy – sixth year, at least – with his wand out, pointed at a smaller kid backed up against a wall. What makes the scene even more unnerving is the fact that the tousled brown hair of the smaller boy looks too familiar, though Colin can't see the boy's face. "What are you doing?"

The larger boy turns with something that could be trepidation, but his expression becomes amused when he catches sight of Colin – and Colin knows why. He may be a fourth year, but he's still unusually short for his age, and physically he's just not intimidating at all.

"I'm teaching a lesson," the bigger boy says. Because he's turned now, Colin can see that the kid he was tormenting is, in fact, Dennis.

"Back off," Colin says, his voice, surprisingly, strong and unwavering. Inside he's freaking out – he is way outmatched here, and he'd have to be a fool not to know it.

The boy's eyes glitter dangerously. "Listen, kid, you don't know who this is."

"He's my brother!"

"He's an abomination!" And Colin finally, finally understands what they mean by uncontrollable rage. It's like there's this little tiny part of him going, You'll get in trouble!, but there's a much, much larger part of him going, He will pay! It's a fierce sense of injustice, of balancing the scales, and more than that, Colin just plain sees red. He's angry. And all of this happens in a matter of seconds, but the bigger boy doesn't seem to understand the sheer force of rage now motivating Colin, because he keeps talking. "A hom-"

And Colin isn't sure what he does next is a conscious choice. He doesn't remember choosing it, anyway. He does, however, vividly remember the satisfying crack that sounds as his hand collides with the jawbone of an idiot.

Said idiot recoils from the blow, clutching his jaw. "Ah! Son of a–"

"Milkman?" Colin provides helpfully.

Professor McGonagall chooses a rather opportune time to walk by, as Colin's not entirely sure he would have survived much longer.

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Some minutes later, Colin finds himself stationed in the chair on the other side of Professor McGonagall's desk. He's slightly mortified that his feet don't touch the floor. The Professor looks at him sternly.

"Mr. Creevey. Would you care to explain exactly why Mr. Jenkins is currently in the hospital wing getting his jaw mended?"

"I punched him."

"Oddly enough, Mr. Creevey, I'd discerned that much for myself, but thank you. Why, precisely, did you punch him?"

Colin shrugs. "Because he called Dennis an abomination."

Professor McGonagall purses her lips and then sighs. "And why, Mr. Creevey, did he call your brother an abomination?"

Colin desperately wants to stare at the floor and mumble his answer, but he knows he cannot. That isn't the way to deal with this – because he is not ashamed of his brother. He isn't. So he looks her in the eyes and says very clearly, "Because Dennis is gay, Professor."

Professor McGonagall blinks, appearing somewhat surprised at his answer.

"Let me get this straight, Mr. Creevey. You punched Mr. Jenkins because he called your brother an abomination due to the fact that he's homosexual?"

Colin nods. Professor McGonagall sighs. Colin feels his eyes narrow at the disappointment in the sound, and then the Professor shakes her head. "I'm not disappointed with you, Mr. Creevey, but with Mr. Jenkins." She closes her eyes for a moment, seeming contemplative. "Ten points to Gryffindor, Mr. Creevey, for an exemplary demonstration of the Gryffindor trait of loyalty."

Colin grins. "Thank you, Professor."

She nods heavily. "You may go."

Colin gets up, but it seems the Professor has one last thing to say.

"If anyone asks, I gave you a week's detention for punching Jenkins."

"Yes, ma'am," Colin replies, unable to hold back another grin.