McGonagall sighed and seemed to gather herself for a moment.
"The Hogwarts Hopefuls was designed to be a substantial investment in a child's future, that's why so many of the students selected feel indebted to us and strive to repay the investment in whatever way they can," she explained. "The reason for that is because the Hopefuls program doesn't pay for one year at a time, but for all seven years at once."
Harry felt a large lead weight land in his stomach and squash that squirmy feeling from before. He'd thought things were bad before but something told him it just got worse.
"That's a hundred and forty-seven years of school!" Hermione said, the look of righteous indignation at flagrant rule-breaking dwarfing anything she had given them last year pointed directly at Professor McGonagall. "One hundred twenty-six of which he's already paid, and he doesn't even know these people. What if they're someone he hates?"
Part of Harry's mind was numb; he had not been expecting a hundred and forty-seven. No wonder Barchoke said the damages would make his head explode and his account balance simply said a lot . Another part of him groaned that once he graduated he'd never get out of the tiny room with a goblin constantly blabbering on about investments, while yet a third maddeningly suggested mentioning he was paying for himself as well, just to see if Hermione would explode all over her favorite professor, but the rest of him thought it probably not the best idea.
This had gotten to be way too much, Harry had decided. Survival instincts said he had to do something.
"Well," he said, turning to Hermione. "If we do end up having twenty kids, at least I know I can pay for them." He must have overshot the mark because his girlfriend's face went directly to utter embarrassment and even McGonagall looked stunned.
"We may not have a castle left standing once you two are done. Merlin help us if you have any children at all," McGonagall said finally, looking forward to a disastrous future beyond them.
"In my position as Deputy Headmistress," she said in a more formal tone once she'd recovered a bit. "I'm not at liberty to make any formal statements on behalf of the school concerning the current state of affairs, so on the topic of these financial concerns, I believe I can only wish you well in your legal proceedings and to say 'good luck'."
Another quick flick sent a bit of a disturbance around them, causing Harry to wonder what that spell had done; kept things secret like a Concealer if his bet was right. That quasi-official pronouncement seemed to be an end of discussion too because she was right, there wasn't anything outrage or talking about it in the Leaky Cauldron could do. This was going to have to be sorted out in court by actual adults.
As they went upstairs Harry found out just how uncomfortable walking with two people could be. McGonagall's stiff walk seemed to say all of this might have been a bad idea and Hermione just seemed glad the older woman wasn't talking about kids any more. Meanwhile, the heavy lead weight in Harry's stomach had melted and congealed into this deepening sense of dread and built up expectations he didn't know if he could live up to, let alone deserve.
More to soothe himself than anything else he poked Hermione's arm. The look she gave him was of such practiced and stunned disbelief he had to assume her dad had seen it more than once, the gesture at McGonagall's back that asked, "You had to say that in front of her ?" was all for him though.
Harry chuckled, and though her expression cleared into a bemused smile the angsty feeling returned as soon as they hit the landing. Each step closer they took to the unmarked door in front of them felt like one step closer to the gallows. Harry couldn't explain it; he had been wronged, he was the one who'd been stolen from, he was the one whose money had paid for everyone they were about to see to have gone to school - so why did he feel like such a fraud?
It wasn't until McGonagall started to open the door that Harry realized what it was and he quickly drew Hermione off to one side.
"I don't think I can do this," he said, feeling like he was going to throw up.
"Give us a minute," she said to McGonagall, who was dithering by the door; it was only when it was closed with the professor inside that she turned back to him. "What is it?"
"I can't go in there," Harry said. "I haven't done anything for these people; if anything, I've made it worse."
"What do you mean?"