29. the arrival of pink and the most undeserving individual

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Horror invites itself into the castle in pink. The illusion of things going well disappears in a puff of pink. There's a lot of mention of pink because there was a lot of pink in the school.

Pink pamphlets declaring Ministry orders were everywhere and the worst sort of the colour paraded around with a chained cat trailing after.

Some Ravenclaw students had donned black since the first week after the arrival of the ministry official. They were in mourning, mourning that the lovely shade of pink was draped around the most undeserving individual. It's blasphemy apparently.

Dolores Umbridge—the most undeserving individual—arrived at the castle two months before Christmas. She had called herself the miracle of the occasion but there were some that would disagree, like the entirety of the Hogwarts population with the exception of Filch.

The till then empty Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom that other teachers had exploited to finish their own syllabus, was to now belong to the pink woman. One could not hold oneself back from referring to her as 'pink' since she was drenched in the colour from the feather in her hat to her pink smile and the soles of her shoes.

Its a huge disservice to the colour.

'Aphrodite would hate this', Percy had said as much in the first week. 'I think this would probably kill her.'

Others had agreed wholeheartedly although they had no idea what it meant. Only that the barrage of rules forced upon them and the sickly sweet attitude of their new Professor would kill the Goddess of Love.

It was supposed to be a grand occasion. However, the huge feast nor the frighteningly loud introduction made her arrival memorable. It was how she conducted herself on the dias.

The mellow tones of the Headmaster had been rudely disrupted with the shrill squeak of the newly appointed Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. It had been amusing at first but did present itself to be annoying when it became a reoccurring thing.

A harumph for the couple conjoined at—er, everything. A shrill 'well' when Sinistra proposed for combined classes to provide a much more holistic approach on the study of magic. Squeaks constantly echoing through the Hall at dinners. The Slytherins reckon it to be a spell.

These additions to the general clatter and bustle of the castle grated on Percy's nerves. There was a general air of distrust and utter bullshit around the new professor that put her on edge.

She tries to ignore it, she does. She dozes in the classes with her eyes open—an art form she excelled in—and ensures the pink colour stays out of her vision. Enormous faith was placed in her housemates for her to pass her exams and she did. Their help in the lessons got her commendable grades in the test that,

"—is essential for me to know where you're currently—although I'm aware that you're nowhere near the standards—"

She didn't listen to the rest. It's a wonder she remembers till that. And that's only because Milicent had to clamp a hand over a Ravenclaw's throat from pointing out that, "—which is because we didn't have a competent teacher till now. The Ministry didn't give a shit till now."

Shame it wasn't allowed. Blaise grieved.

Draco was quick to mutter, "And even when we do have a teacher, Potter doesn't fail to fuck things up."

Theo had agreed without a moment'a hesitation, adding on unsavoury comments about the rest of the Trio-That-Fucks-Shit-Up. His spiel did die out with lack of contribution from the blond.

Percy's frown might have been a reason but he isn't telling much regarding that.

"—the evil that rests within the beasts is sometimes transferred to the wizards in a moment of stupid adventure—"

What, Percy looks up from the captivating wood grain at the words. She makes a questioning gesture at Pansy beside her. "What the fuck is she on about?"

"I've no fucking idea," she mouths back, going back to admiring her nails and relaying its beauty to Milicent in excruciating detail.

Said brunette appears alert enough in her doze to gag another enthusiastic student ready to disagree.

"Beasts are inherently dangerous due to their poor," Umbridge makes a pitying gesture, possibly, hard to say with her ever present smile. It's as unpleasant as ever though. "cognitive skills. Their evilness is born with them and wizards sometimes become unfortunate victims of it." Her lecture takes another turn. "The bloodlines of today are losing its sacredness to some 'passionate' individuals."

Draco does not grace her emphatic look with anything but indifference. Daphne doesn't either, though she gives a short nod to herself. It might have been at the artfully drawn image on the table. Crude perhaps and risky too but it's clear the artist had put much thought into it.

Milicent is not quick enough this time.

"So, you're saying like all 'beasts' are evil? And all wizards are what, angels?"

The class doesn't bother to deign Percy's impertinent tone with a reaction. Double classes does that to someone. Umbridge does.

She purses her nonexistent lips at the casual, bordering on disrespectful position of the exchange student. Turning her nose up, she says, "I ask you not to lay down on your desk, Ms. Jackson."

Percy shrugs, hard to do but she manages to convey all the lack of fucks she gives to the situation which is none. "I'm listening." She doesn't pause, "You didn't answer my question."

Umbridge's smile spasms, drops and is restored with a saccharine touch to it. "I don't know what they teach you at Ilvermorny Ms. Jackson," she prioritises, "but it's true, wizards of pure heritage are pure."

"And the others aren't?" Her voice drops to a mumble, "They don't teach bullshit, I'm sure of that."

"Well," she says in a conspiratorial manner as if the entire class was not listening. "that's something we'll have to wait and see. You do remember the last class on werewolves Ms. Jackson?"

She didn't. "Yeah, that wasn't—"

"Yes, then you will remember the havoc those creatures have wrecked upon the peaceful people of the wizarding world—"

"They did nothing. That was you," Hermione mumbles because it wouldn't do well to be a bad example. Harry has enough reasons as it is.

"No I don't," Percy, the mad witch she is, cuts her off. "Though I do remember how many were killed in your so called golden age."

"Ms. Jackson!" There would be smoke coming out of Dolores' ears of if she were a cartoon. "Enough with the lies—"

"No like there was the whole bullshit with You-Know-Who not existing—there are literal freak storms and massacres—and now you're going on about alienating entire species—"

"Ms. J—"

"What even is your plan? Keep them all separated and watch them die and take over the world? There won't be a world to take over at the end. You do know that, don't you?"

Umbridge dons a new colour for the first time other than pink. It's an appalling purple. "Detention!"

Percy scoffs. "That's your only response of course."

Her classmates muffle their own scoffs and keep their comments to themselves, agreeing nor disagreeing with her. Umbridge drones on, furious beyond imagination.

The other Slytherins moan within the confines of their minds about how much of an idiot she was. They await to unleash it all in the same evening when Percy comes back from detention.

"Did you dip your sleeve in the ketchup again?" It's a better greeting than Pansy's usual ones.

"She didn't even attend dinner?"

Though Millicent is right, Pansy's right as well. One could not assume otherwise given the exchange student's previous encounters with ketchup and current state of sleeve.

Draco all but freezes in his seat, the disturbingly familiar sight throwing him back to some unsavoury memories of the past months. This inspires for Blaise to look closer, taking in the girl's unsteady gait, unlike her usual assured self, "Are you bleeding?"

Percy has a single comment for the abruptly silent Common Room. "Funny how they give us punishments instead of answers when we question huh?"

Pansy's on her feet and by her side in the blink of an eye. A flurry of activities occur as one fetches water and the other healing potions. Draco departs from his armchair for her to sit. Even Theo stands at attention though clueless as to what to do.

"Gods, 'm weaker than I thought," Percy mumbles, her hand dripping with blood appearing nothing more than an inconvenience for her. She falls into the armchair, holding her head in her hands.

Millicent pries away her injured hand and pushes back her sleeve. "What the fuck?"

Percy wriggles herself out of her friend's grip, shrugging away Pansy's arm around her shoulders. Her efforts at pushing others away are ignored in favour of gaping at her hand.

Blood flows from it without abandon to pool on the floor. The source of it is traced back to be the back of her hand where when Milicent turns it, gasps are heard.

"Are those words?"

"Ha yeah, this won't work at all, at all, no—"

"Are you delirious?" Draco cuts her off, striding forward from the fireplace to poke her temple with his wand.

No one stops him but Percy. She tries to swat his hands away as he checks her pupils.

"What even is that?"

"I will not be impertinent," Astoria reads in a voice nothing more than a whisper. The words gleam red as if preening under the horrified gazes.

"As if," Percy sounds more amused than the situation guarantees to be. She mumbles to herself more.

It increases Draco's suspicions of her mind having been meddled. He wouldn't put it past the pink woman. Pieces of her mumbles do not help with the matter. "—this woman thinks—even gods couldn't—not titans—not Hell—"

"She's not enchanted or hexed."

His declaration overlaps with Theo's realisation, "Blood quills."

None see the point in questioning about their existence nor the fact they were illegal. Being a Slytherin meant knowing more than given.

"'S the blood loss," Percy clarifies, pointing to her head. Her moment's respite at not having any prodding fingers is lost when Blaise steps in to wrap up her hands.

"How could she—?"

"Yeah," the haze surrounding her clears enough for horror to glare through. She blinks, her gaze unfocused and elsewhere. "I didn't expect this from a mortal but damn, she'd fit right down there."

"Yes of course," Millicent placates her, willing to brush away her crazy talk. "Now keep your hand straight,"

She does. She smiles at the younger ones and reassures them. Normalcy returns gradually with Theo saying he wishes she had simply bled to death. She produces a dagger out of nowhere at that, just to cut the gauze she says. Still, it encourages the brunet to opt for silence the next hour.

Her hand is patched up and she ambles to her room, pushing away every other attempt for help. The blood had dried off but her mind is stained with a morbid thought. Really, how foolish could she be? To ever assume that the monsters remained downstairs? They were here and roamed with her as one.

She should know. Hell, she had grown up with one. She should know.

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30. of course she did, of course they will

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"Don't bleed over the carpets again Jackson," Draco asks over breakfast the next morning.

Percy rolls her eyes and gives a mock salute. "Sir yes sir."

"No seriously, don't," Blaise reiterates his words with more concern than the latter.

She sighs in return. The discussion that she has been avoiding for the past hour or so latches onto her. It's participants look at her with varying levels of concern, whether it is for the carpets or her is yet to be known.

"I'll patch it up before I come to—"

"It's not that!"

"What we mean is," Pansy elaborates for Astoria, "stay out of trouble,"

"And away from blood quills,"

Percy tugs on her sleeve, unable to contain her snort. "I wanna see how far she goes. If this is the best she can throw at me," she shrugs, "I'm disappointed."

Concern levels rise, still unclear as to who or rather what it was for. It might be for her sanity this time.

"And why—in merlin's name—" Millicent says with all the patience she doesn't possess, "do you want to do that?"

"Because it pisses her off," she grins, "and also I could file a complaint or something. If she can do something worse than this, the Ministry will have to do something right?"

Theo states the obvious, "You're insane,"

Draco states the next obvious fact, "The Ministry won't do shi—"

"There isn't much I can do for now." She tugs on her sleeve again to hide the scar that shouldn't have healed as well as it had. "I've detention for the rest of the week."

"We can tell Snape?"

"And what'll he do?"

"Nothing?"

"We can't just leave her to die!"

"Oh for fuck's sake, we're not doing that!"

"You're overreacting,"

"You are overreacting,"

"I just want her to be safe—"

Percy interrupts them, "I'll try not to annoy her anymore—"

"Impossible. You're after all born with it—"

"—and I will stick to whatever she says in the future and not overdo it?"

"Wait," Pansy drags, her eyes narrowing.

"You should have seen her face," Percy's triumph clashes with her defensive tone, "it was hilarious!"

"We really have to talk about your stupidity Jackson,"

"We do not,"

"We really really do."

They don't. The morning rush to get to class splits their group and Percy thanks Minerva for giving her an unique schedule that allowed her to not be confronted by the Slytherins. She lets herself be pushed to the other side of her friends that call after her. She does take a moment to throw an apologetic look and a smile, it's crooked nature fooling no one.

She ambles to the grounds for her Magical Beasts class with Hagrid.

Unbeknown to her, another group awaited on the other side. With an offer, a congratulations, notes and a potion.

"Percy!"

She waves at the Golden-Trio-That-Had-Their-Good-For-Nothing-Smiles on. "What're you people up to?"

They blink at her. "Nothing," it's far too quick and far too familiar to her own campers trying to hide a smoking tree.

"What makes you think that?" Hermione did pride herself on being the best conversationalist but she comes off defensive.

"Yeah what?" Harry thinks the same for himself. Unfortunately for him, he was raised in a cupboard.

Ron, the only one that had more than adequate human interaction in his childhood grins, "The DADA class was bloody amazing!"

"A tad bit stupid though," Hermione mutters still she could admit that she was glad that for once, it wasn't her bespectacled friend. Percy grins back.

Harry pushes his glasses back as he reaches for  a vial in his bag. He presses it into her hands. "I'm not so sure but just in case,"

"What—?"

"It's Murtlap Essence for your hand," the usual chirp in the witch's tone is absent as she gestures to her own hand with a disturbed expression. "Really I can't believe she would do such a thing—"

"I can," Harry and Percy chorus.

She isn't done. "—blood quills? Blood quills? How could she—"

"Now Hermione, breathe," Percy interrupts before the witch dies of lack of oxygen, "we can't waste our time trying to explain this crazy bitch. We can't understand them, great we aren't them."

There's a pause before Ron admits, "Didn't expect you to become philosophical all of a sudden,"

She shrugs, the beginnings of a grin creeping up on her face. "I try not to be but it's this life man." She pushes the vial back to Harry. "I have enough. You have this. It works the best with salt water by the way."

Hermione's hair bounces with how fast she whips up her head to look at her. "You do? It's so hard to brew and it takes a while—"

"The Slytherins like to experiment," she jabs her thumb at the general direction of where her supposedly experimental housemates are. There's only the cliff and the roaring ocean below where she points at.

"Where do they get their ingredients—?"

"Snape?"

"Yeahh," she drawls her affirmation at Ron's guess. "But he doesn't really know."

"You're stealing?"

"Borrowing,"

Ron snorts and it isn't long before Harry joins. Hermione doesn't bother pointing out the obvious reasons that it isn't right. It's for learning and she respects that. 

They reach their assigned places by Hagrid's hut to tend to the blast ended skrewets. They huddle around Percy and so does the rest of the class.

The creatures proved to be inherently interested in setting them on fire and the exchange student had the best grasp on water magic. She douses Seamus with water as he enters.

"Thanks Percy!" He didn't even know he had set fire to his bag.

"Of course," she waves it away. "I'm doing good thanks," she answers before Parvati could ask her customary question.

"Great!" She flips her long braid back, hooking her arm with Lavender. "Then we can go to Hogsmeade this weekend together?"

"Uh," Percy drags as she rolls up her sleeves and pulls on her dragon hide gloves.

Hermione rolls her eyes. Her friends hide a smile.

"I don't know man. It's the weekend—"

"And you have to be at camp?"

"You're always there though," Dean points out.

"Of course I am," she shoots them a quizzical look. "I have to be there."

"But this one weekend though please," Lavender and Parvati try to persuade her.

Percy throws her hands up in a way to placate them. "Can't do, sorry."

"We," Harry begins in low tones once all have retreated back to their own notes and the girls were reassured. "were hoping you'd come to Hogsmeade this weekend,"

"You were?" Percy furrows her eyebrows. It was usual for the girls to ask but the Shifty-Looking-Golden-Trio?

"And since you're not," Ron shoots his friends loaded looks, "we gotta ask her now."

"Wh—?"

"You see Percy," Hermione starts in a well practiced tone, "our Defense Against the Dark Arts classes have not been upto the standards—"

"They've been absolute shit," Ron translates.

"Yes, they have been," she doesn't look too mad at being interrupted. "and the exams are coming up soon—"

"There's You-Know-Who coming as well," Harry says grimly.

Now, the bushy haired witch does look mad. Percy's amused despite the subject. "And it's important for us to learn DADA at these times." She pauses for the exchange student'a agreeing nod. "All we need are competent teachers and I can't think of anyone better than Harry,"

"Oh cool," the bespectacled wizard shifts beneath her gaze.

"So we're planning to conduct classes for those interested,"

"Yeah man," her answers today are full of uncertainty. She shrugs at Ron. "We already have study clubs in the House and it's awesome what you're doing but I don't think I can join."

"But you have to be there!"

"Because you'll be teaching with him,"

She blinks at them. No way they had been fooled along with the others that she was an experienced witch. Magic came easy to her as in turning tea cups into mice and amassing storms. Training to fight Dark Lords was another matter altogether.

"Not magic but to fight,"

"To fight what?"

Ron takes on an uncharacteristically grave tone, leaning forward and catching her gaze, "You know there's a war coming, don't you Percy?"

"You know it better than all of us," Harry nods.

Hermione wrings her hands, "We should be prepared in all the ways we can be,"

Percy looks at them. She purses her lips when she identifies the stubborn fire blazing within them. Too familiar, something that shouldn't be found in them. "And you're gonna fight?"

They flinch as her tone comes off as mocking more than anything.

"Yes," Harry finds it in himself to say. "Yes of course we will." That's the only truth that doesn't seem veiled at the moment.

Percy's drawl falls with her shuttered expression. "No,"

"But c'mon—"

"No." She'll not be training another army of kids to fight wars that weren't theirs. Yet, it keeps echoing in her mind. Of course we will. Of course they will. Of course they did. Of course she did.

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Regarding the story well, there was something else planned but I think we'll go with something else instead and then not bring in anything else while still holding together everything else :)

I'm judging all your reading lists by the way and I admit, I'm honoured to see this work among those