───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Blair didn't go to the Great Hall after her conversation with Professor McGonagall. She went straight to the Black Lake, not wanting to hear the whispers and see the stares. She knew she'd get angry again and do something that she might regret. She didn't want to hear what they thought about her parents and how they died. 

She didn't care if they thought she was a liar. She just didn't want them to think that her parents died in a tragic accident when they died because of love. Love for their daughter and for each other. Suddenly, two people came down, sitting on each side of Blair. She looked to see that it was Fred and George.

"You all right, Little B?" Fred asked softly. Blair sighed shakily and nodded her head.

"Of course, you aren't." George said sadly.

Blair smiled weakly and felt them each wrap an arm around her. She relaxed into their embrace but clenched her fists. "I'm fine, Freddie, Georgie. It's just that... I hate it. I hate it, but I can't do anything about it. You know what I mean? I-I don't feel like I want to cry anymore. I just feel empty."

She felt Fred take one of her fists and unclench it. "We might not know how you're feeling, Blair, but we understand."

"We may not be able to do anything to help you, but just know, we're here for you, Little B, no matter what." George said while rubbing her arm.

Blair smiled at them genuinely. "Thank you, Freddie, George. Now, enough of that, I have some amazing ideas for the Flaming Fritters."

The three of them discussed about new ideas for their joke shop. After an hour, Fred and George waved goodbye and went back to Gryffindor Tower. Blair chose to stay there and just look at the lake while throwing stones at it. Suddenly, something, no. Some things came. Blair's eyes widened when she saw that it was the Giant Squid and two mermen.

Blair smiled slightly. "Hey, there. So, I finally meet the Giant Squid that my Granger always wanted to date." The Giant Squid waved its tentacle.

Blair waved back before looking at the mermen. "I never got to thank you. I should've known you would never have let them die. So, thank you."

The two mermen looked at her curiously before splashing her slightly and swimming back into the Black Lake. Blair laughed loudly as she stood up. Suddenly, rain came pouring down. Blair chuckled before running to the tree to take cover. She smiled at the rain that unnaturally felt warm.

Blair closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. She remembered. Whenever it was raining, her mother would scold her and immediately wrap her in towels. Her father would laugh before he'd bring Blair right in front of the warm fire. Olivia would soon come in with a shivering Oliver before bringing in cups of hot chocolate. Blair smiled at the memories. She was glad that she remembered every memory and she was going to treasure it in her heart forever.

When the rain calmed down, Blair went to the library and started doing her homework. She was so focused on her work that when someone tapped her on the shoulder, she yelped and jumped, holding her hands up in defense. It was Cedric Diggory, who became confused at her reaction.

"Uh, hey, Blair," said Cedric awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hey, Cedric," replied Blair with a sheepish grin, mirroring his action. "Sorry 'bout that. I didn't expect that there would be people still here. Sorry, Madam Pince." Blair waved at Madam Pince who glared at her when she shouted.

"No, it's fine. Do you mind if I sit?" When Blair shook her head, Cedric sat down in front of her with a grin, the atmosphere between them growing lighter. He always wanted to talk to Blair Wood. She was kind and a great Quidditch player, and he knew she didn't deserve what happened to her so he finally decided to approach her after hesitating. "I actually saw you outside, and that's why I followed you here. Aren't you cold?"

"I'm fine, thanks, Cedric." Blair was a little surprised at his concern. She only remembered she was jealous of him last year because she thought Hermione liked him, but he really was a kind person.

"You know, about what happened to your parents..." Cedric started nervously, but when he saw Blair smile a little, his nerves calmed down. "I-I'm sorry about what happened... And we believe you. That Voldemort's back."

"Really?" Blair was grinning now, too happy that someone else believed in them. Over the past few days, she had only been reminded of her parents' deaths and the fact that people would believe rumors over facts just made it hurt more yet now, someone was telling her they believed in her and Harry. "You don't know how much that means to me."

Cedric grinned at her as Blair's happiness was too infectious. "But maybe next time, don't anger the toad any further? She might turn into a bullfrog."

Cedric's comment made the both of them laugh loudly and Madam Pince send them a glare. They stifled their laughter and Cedric brought out his homework as well as he and Blair talked the whole night. Blair thought maybe it was because he believed them or he was a Quidditch player like her, but she felt comfortable with him and she earned a friend today.

 They stayed there until morning and though they wanted to talk more, they went back to their respective dormitories. Blair went back to the girls' dormitory quietly and sighed in relief when they were all sleeping. She washed up quickly and wore her uniform. She tiptoed across the room and rested her hand on the doorknob, just as she was about to open it...

"And where do you think you're going?"

Blair jumped and held a hand to her heart. "Mione! You scared me." But her voice died down when she saw Hermione's blank face and crossed arms.

Hermione sighed before going over to the bathroom. "Sit down, and wait for me."

Blair immediately followed and sat on her bed. She fiddled with her fingers while waiting for Hermione. Blair stared worrying about what happened. Was she mad about what she did? Did she do something wrong? Did she forget something? Then, the door to the bathroom opened and Hermione came out, fully dressed.

Hermione held back a smile at how cute the nervous Blair looked. "Let's go."

Just as Hermione was about to pick up her bag, Blair took it and smiled. "Come on."

Hermione blushed before she walked out of the dormitory with Blair walking after her. She looked at Blair worriedly. "Are you sure? It's quite heavy."

Blair winked at her. "It's just as light as a feather, Granger." Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled. The two of them walked to the Great Hall.

"Wait here," said Hermione before she went into the Great Hall. Blair stood there and saw a few students who whispered and stared at her before going in. She rolled her eyes and just thought of Professor McGonagall's advice and of how Cedric believed in them. She had to stay calm. Finally, after a few minutes, Hermione came out with two cups and a plate in hand.

"Follow me." Hermione said while leading the way to the Black Lake. Blair chuckled slightly before she sat down beside Hermione. Hermione handed her a cup of hot chocolate and some Treacle Tarts. They ate in silence while watching the sun rise.

"I'm sorry, Blair." Hermione suddenly said.

Blair looked at her, surprised. "What for?"

"Well, for arguing with Ron. I should've known you wouldn't like it, and you're right. We shouldn't be fighting anymore because we've got too much problems already. And—"

Blair's chuckle cut her off. "It's fine, Mione. I know you two won't stop arguing. Just lessen it?"

Hermione opened her mouth before smiling at her. "All right, then." Then, her smile turned mischievous. "And you were the best yesterday in Potions."

Blair looked confused before she remembered what happened yesterday. "Oh, right. So, what happened? Why won't you talk to me?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed red, now looking flustered. "W-Well, Blair." She muttered the next words under her breath. "Let's just say that I don't really like it when other people flirt with you."

Blair was even more confused. "You don't like what?"

Hermione took a deep breath before looking down at the ground, saying a little louder. "I said I don't like it when other people flirt with you."

Blair's eyes widened then her jaw dropped before her eyebrows furrowed. "But who flirted with me? I don't really remember —"

"Oh, Merlin, Blair! Can't you see that Cho Chang looks like she wants to snog you every time she looks at you?" Hermione snapped.

Blair blinked a few times, still confused. "No?"

Hermione glared at her and sighed out of frustration. "Why? Why can't you see that almost everyone wants you? That they're looking at you like a piece of meat?"

Blair shrugged before smiling at Hermione softly. "Why would I even look at them when my eyes and my heart are set on you?"

Hermione blushed and felt her heart speeding up because of the look in Blair's eyes. The gentle eyes that were reserved only for Hermione. Then, she crossed her arms and pouted. "It better stay that way."

Blair beamed at her and nodded energetically. "Of course, Granger. It's a promise." She held out her pinky.

Hermione giggled before sealing the pinky promise. "I'll hold on to that, Wood."

Blair couldn't keep the grin off her face as she and Hermione stared at each other. She had already promised even before she did so with Hermione. Blair was Hermione's ever since that day on the Hogwarts Express.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

They had their first lessons of double Charms and double Transfiguration. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall both spent the first fifteen minutes of their lessons lecturing the class on the importance of O.W.L.s. Blair wasn't going to listen, but one look from Hermione was enough for her to sit up straight. They reviewed the Summoning Charms, and got the largest amount of Charms homework ever.

In Transfiguration, they practiced the Vanishing Spells. To her delight, Blair vanished hers on her first try, earning her ten points from Professor McGonagall. Hermione did it on her third try while Harry and Ron didn't get to do it at all. Professor McGonagall did not give them homework but told them to practice the spell overnight.

During lunch, Harry and Ron went to the library to do their homework while Hermione caught Blair up on what happened with the hats and asked her to help. Of course, Blair immediately accepted and though some elves got mad at her and Hermione, mainly Hermione, some elves smiled and accepted the hats from Blair.

Blair and Hermione went towards Hagrid's cabin for Care of Magical Creatures and met with Harry and Ron there. Blair glared when the Slytherins, led by Malfoy, kept on laughing and pointing at her and Harry. Hermione held her hand to calm her down.

"Everyone here?" barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, once all the Slytherins and Gryffindors had arrived. "Let's crack on then — who can tell me what these things are called?" She indicated the heap of twigs in front of her. Hermione's hand shot into the air. Behind her back, Malfoy did a buck-toothed imitation of her jumping up and down in eagerness to answer a question. Blair growled at him but snorted when Pansy let out a shriek of laughter when the twigs revealed themselves to be tiny piexieish creatures made of wood.

"Kindly keep your voices down, girls!" said Professor Grubbly-Plank sharply, scattering a handful of what looked like brown rice among the stick-creatures, who immediately fell upon the food. "So — anyone know the names of these creatures? Miss Granger?"

"Bowtruckles," said Hermione. "They're tree-guardians, usually live in wand-trees."

"Five points for Gryffindor," said Professor Grubbly-Plank. "Yes, these are bowtruckles and, as Miss Granger rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?"

"Wood lice," said Hermione promptly, which explained why the grains of brown rice were moving. "But fairy eggs if they can get them."

"Good girl, take another five points. So whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of wood lice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will gouge out human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see, are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So if you'd like to gather closer, take a few wood lice and a bowtruckle — I have enough here for one between three — you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body parts labeled by the end of the lesson."

The class surged forward around the trestle table. Blair walked up to Professor Grubbly-Plank. "Professor, do you know where's Hagrid?"

"Never you mind," said Professor Grubbly-Plank repressively. Blair frowned before picking a bowtruckle. Malfoy leaned across her and seized the largest bowtruckle.

"Maybe," said Malfoy in an undertone, so that only Blair could hear him, "the stupid great oaf's got himself badly injured."

"Maybe you will if you don't shut up," said Blair out of the side of her mouth.

"Maybe he's been messing with stuff that's too big for him, if you get my drift." Malfoy walked away, smirking over his shoulder at Blair, who suddenly felt sick. Did Malfoy know something? Did his father know where Hagrid was? Was Hagrid okay? She hurried back around the table to Harry, Ron and Hermione and relayed what Malfoy had just said.

"Dumbledore would know if something had happened to Hagrid," said Hermione at once. "It's just playing into Malfoy's hands to look worried, it tells him we don't know exactly what's going on. We've got to ignore him, Blair. Here, hold the bowtruckle for a moment, just so I can draw its face..."

"Yes," came Malfoy's clear drawl from the group nearest them, "Father was talking to the Minister just a couple of days ago, you know, and it sounds as though the Ministry's really determined to crack down on substandard teaching in this place. So even if that overgrown moron does show up again, he'll probably be sent packing straight away."

"OUCH!" Harry yelled as the bowtruckle swiped at his hand. Blair was immediately restrained by Ron and Hermione to prevent her from doing anything, knowing she already had too much detentions.

When the bell echoed distantly over the grounds, they marched off to Herbology with Harry's hand wrapped in Hermione's handkerchief. "If he calls Hagrid a moron one more time..." snarled Harry.

"Blair, Harry, don't go picking a row with Malfoy, don't forget, he's a prefect now, he could make life difficult for you..." Hermione said warningly.

"Not like it isn't difficult already," said Blair, shrugging. Harry and Ron laughed, but Hermione frowned. Blair immediately muttered an apology.

"I just wish Hagrid would hurry up and get back, that's all," said Harry in a low voice, as they reached the greenhouses. "And don't say that Grubbly-Plank woman's a better teacher!" he added threateningly.

"I wasn't going to," said Hermione calmly.

"Because she'll never be as good as Hagrid," said Harry firmly. Blair, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances before the door opened and some fourth years spilled out of it.

"Hi," Ginny said brightly as she passed.

Luna came out as well and immediately made for them. "Hello there. Hi Ron!"

Ron immediately blushed and said shyly. "H-Hi, Luna."

Luna then turned to Harry and Blair. "I believe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, and I believe you fought him and escaped from him."

"Er — right," said Harry awkwardly.

Blair nudged him before smiling at Luna. "Thanks, Luna." Parvati and Lavender suddenly passed, giggling and pointing at what looked like a pair of orange radishes for earrings.

Ron glared at them. "What are you laughing at?" Parvati and Lavender immediately shut up and glared back.

Luna smiled appreciatively at Ron before her voice rose at Lavender and Parvati. "You know, he's really back. People used to believe there were no such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack!"

"Well, they were right, weren't they?" said Hermione impatiently. "There weren't any such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack." Ron glared at Hermione as Luna gave her a withering look and flounced away. Now, not only Lavender and Parvati were hooting with laughter.

"She just wanted to defend Harry and Blair," Ron said a little angry.

"D'you mind not offending the only people who believe us?" Harry asked Hermione as they made their way into class.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Harry, you can do better than her," said Hermione. "Ginny's told me all about her, apparently she'll only believe in things as long as there's no proof at all. Well, I wouldn't expect anything else from someone whose father runs The Quibbler."

Blair let out a sigh when she saw Ron open his mouth. "That's enough, you three."

Ernie Macmillan suddenly stepped up to them. "I want you to know, Wood, Potter," he said in a loud, carrying voice, "that it's not only weirdos who support you. I personally believe you one hundred percent. My family have always stood firm behind Dumbledore, and so do I. I'm sorry for your loss, Blair."

Blair smiled at him. "Thanks, Ernie."

"Er — thanks very much, Ernie," said Harry, taken aback but pleased. Blair and Harry exchanged happy smiles. It was good that there were some people apart from their friends that believed them. Blair caught Seamus looking at her, his expression both guilty and defiant. She rolled her eyes and looked away. She wouldn't be making the first move.

Professor Sprout started their lesson by lecturing them about the importance of O.W.L.s, and gave them another essay at the end of the class. Tired and smelling strongly of dragon dung, Professor Sprout's preferred brand of fertilizer, the Gryffindors trooped back up to the castle an hour and a half later, none of them talking very much.

Blair excused herself from Harry, Ron and Hermione, remembering she had her first detention with Umbridge. She was starving so she headed straight for dinner without dropping off her bag in Gryffindor tower. She sighed in relief and slowed down when she caught sight of the entrance of the Great Hall.

A loud and angry voice said, "Oy, Wood!"

"What now?" Blair muttered wearily, turning to face Angelina Johnson, who looked as though she was in a towering temper.

"I'll tell you what now," she said, marching straight up to her and poking her hard in the chest with her finger. "How come you've landed yourself in detention for five o'clock on Friday?"

"What?" said Blair. "Why... oh yeah, Keeper tryouts!"

"Now she remembers!" snarled Angelina. "Didn't I tell you I wanted to do a tryout with the whole team, and find someone who fitted in with everyone? Didn't I tell you that especially you need to be there? Didn't I tell you I'd booked the Quidditch pitch specially? And now you've decided you're not going to be there!"

"I didn't decide not to be there!" said Blair, stung by the injustice of these words. "I got detention from that Umbridge woman, just because I told her the truth about You-Know-Who —"

"Well, you can just go straight to her and ask her to let you off on Friday," said Angelina fiercely, "and I don't care how you do it, tell her You-Know-Who's a figment of your imagination if you like, just make sure you're there!" She stormed away.

Blair sighed exasperatedly. "Is that Oliver or Angelina?" She shook her head before sitting down with Harry, Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

"What d'you reckon are the odds of Umbridge letting you off on Friday?" said Harry worriedly.

"Less than zero," said Blair glumly, tipping some steak onto her plate and starting to eat. "Better try, though, hadn't I? I'll offer to do two more detentions or something, I dunno..."

Harry swallowed a mouthful of potato and added, "I hope she doesn't keep you too long this evening. You realize we've got to write three essays, practice Vanishing Spells for McGonagall, work out a countercharm for Flitwick, finish the bowtruckle drawing, and start that stupid dream diary for Trelawney?"

Blair and Ron moaned. Ron glanced up at the ceiling. "And it looks like it's going to rain."

"What's that got to do with our homework?" said Hermione, her eyebrows raised.

"Nothing," said Ron at once, his ears reddening.

At five to five, Blair bade the other three good-bye and set off for Umbridge's office on the third floor. When she knocked on the door Umbridge said, "Come in," in a sugary voice. 

Blair entered cautiously, looking around. Blair's eyes widened at the sight of the office. It was so pink and filled with plates of kittens. These were so foul that Blair stared at them, transfixed, until Professor Umbridge spoke again. "Good evening, Ms. Wood."

Blair was startled and looked around. Umbridge blended with the background with her flowery robes. "Evening," Blair said stiffly.

"Well, sit down," she said, pointing toward a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up a straight-backed chair. A piece of blank parchment lay on the table, apparently waiting for Blair.

"Professor Umbridge?" said Blair, without moving. "Before we start, I-I wanted to ask you a... a favor."

Umbridge's bulging eyes narrowed. "Oh yes?"

"Well I'm... I'm on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And I was supposed to be at the tryouts for the new Keeper at five o'clock on Friday and I was — was wondering whether I could skip detention that night and do it — do it another night... instead..." Blair's voice died down because she knew it was no good.

"Oh no," said Umbridge, smiling so widely. "Oh no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Ms. Wood, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one's convenience. No, you will come here at five o'clock tomorrow, and the next day, and on Friday too, and you will do your detentions as planned. I think it rather a good thing that you are missing something you really want to do. It ought to reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach you."

Blair felt her temper rise up, but the look on Umbridge's face was enough to tell Blair to calm herself and sit down. She wouldn't give her the satisfaction. "There," said Umbridge sweetly, "we're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Ms. Wood. No, not with your quill," she added, as Blair bent down to open her bag.

"You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are." She handed her a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point. "I want you to write 'I must not tell lies,' " she told her softly.

"How many times?" Blair asked, with a creditable imitation of politeness.

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in," said Umbridge sweetly. "Off you go." She moved over to her desk, sat down, and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for marking.

Blair raised the sharp black quill and then realized what was missing. "You haven't given me any ink," she said.

"Oh, you won't need ink," said Professor Umbridge with the merest suggestion of a laugh in her voice.

Blair placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote: I must not tell lies. She immediately bit her lip to prevent a gasp from coming out. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Blair's right hand, cut into her skin — yet even as she stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth.

Blair looked around at Umbridge. She was watching Blair, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile. "Yes?"

"Nothing," said Blair quietly. She looked back at the parchment, placed the quill upon it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of her hand for a second time; once again the words had been cut into her skin, once again they healed over seconds later. And on it went. Blair clenched her fists and bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying anything. It was not ink. It was her own blood. 

As darkness soon fell, Blair kept on writing and writing, not showing any sign of weakness. She didn't care if she had to do it all night. She won't give up. "Come here," Umbridge said, after what seemed hours.

Blair stood up. Her hand was stinging painfully. When she looked down at it, she saw that the cut had healed, but that the skin there was red raw. "Hand." Blair extended it. Umbridge took it in her own. Blair repressed a shudder at her touch.

"Tut, tut, I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet," Umbridge said, smiling. "Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go."

Blair left her office without a word. She walked slowly up the corridor then, when he had turned the corner and was sure that she would not hear her, broke into a run to the kitchens. She suddenly remembered that she had so much to do, and she didn't want to see her friends yet. They couldn't know about this.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The next morning, Blair was surprised when she saw Ron doing his homework. "How come you didn't do it last night?"

Ron scrawled a few words before whispering to Blair. "I'm trying out, Blair. I'm trying out to be a Keeper."

Blair's face lit up and she smiled for the first time since her time in Umbridge's office. "That's great, Ron. Why don't we practice after my detention?"

Ron looked at her hopefully before hugging her tight. "Thanks, Blair." They met up with Harry and hurried off to the North Tower together.

"How was detention with Umbridge, anyway? What did she make you do?" Harry suddenly asked.

Blair hesitated for a fraction of a second, then said, "Lines."

"That's not too bad, then, eh?" said Ron.

"Nope," said Blair.

"Hey — I forgot — did she let you off for Friday?" Harry asked worriedly.

Blair sighed and sadly shook her head. "No."

Ron patted her on the back comfortingly while Harry wrapped an arm around her. Blair made sure to hide her hand from them no matter what. Thankfully, she had already gotten the Vanishing Spell down, but she spent her lunch hour finishing the picture of the bowtruckle that she forgot.

Professors McGonagall, Grubbly-Plank, and Sinistra gave them yet more homework, which Blair thought she just had to do during morning. At dinner, Angelina came at her again and when she found out Blair couldn't get out of detention, told her she was not at all impressed by her attitude and that she expected players who wished to remain on the team to put training before their other commitments.

Blair groaned and laid her head on the table. "Does she think I'd rather be stuck in a room with that old toad or playing Quidditch?"

"At least it's only lines," said Hermione consolingly. "It's not as if it's a dreadful punishment, really..."

Blair opened her mouth, closed it again, and nodded. Now, she wondered why she was not telling Harry, Ron and Hermione exactly what was happening in Umbridge's room, but she knew that she didn't want to see the looks of horror on their faces. It was a battle between her and Umbridge. She wasn't going to lose it.

"I can't believe how much homework we've got," said Ron miserably.

"Well, why didn't you do any last night?" Harry asked him. "Where were you anyway?"

"I was... I fancied a walk," said Ron shiftily while glancing at Blair. Blair just smiled reassuringly at him as she said goodbye and went to her next detention.

The second detention was just as bad as the previous one. The skin on the back of Blair's hand became irritated more quickly now, red and inflamed; Blair thought it unlikely to keep healing as effectively for long.

Soon the cut would remain etched in her hand and Umbridge would, perhaps, be satisfied. She let no moan of pain escape her, however, and from the moment of entering the room to the moment of her dismissal, again past midnight, she said nothing but "Good evening" and "Good night."

Blair met up with Ron in the Quidditch field and started running Ron through some drills and teaching him some tricks. Though her hand would probably hurt even more later, she didn't care and played passionately. Quidditch was her escape, and it made her feel free. 

Because they finished at 2 in the morning, Blair gave up her sleep to finish all of her homework. She finished everything before washing up and getting ready and spending breakfast trying to catch up on some sleep.

Thursday passed in a haze of tiredness. Blair's third detention passed in the same way as the previous two, except that after two hours the words "I must not tell lies" did not fade from the back of Blair's hand, but remained scratched there, oozing droplets of blood.

The pause in the pointed quill's scratching made Professor Umbridge look up. "Ah," she said softly, moving around her desk to examine her hand herself. "Good. That ought to serve as a reminder to you, oughtn't it? You may leave for tonight."

"Do I still have to come back tomorrow?" said Blair, picking up her schoolbag with her left hand rather than her smarting right.

"Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge, smiling widely as before. "Yes, I think we can etch the message a little deeper with another evening's work."

Blair walked towards the Quidditch field and saw Ron there. "Hey, Ron. Let's go."

She went to the lockers and washed her hand, trying to get rid of the blood. She sighed in relief when the blood finally stopped before putting on her Quidditch gear. She and Ron played around the field with Ron barely blocking her shots.

Suddenly, Ron flew right in front of her. "Hey, Blair. I just remembered. What was the scar you were talking about before?"

Blair froze. Did he know? Then, she realized what he was talking about. "Oh, well... Here." She used her left hand and pulled down her shirt a little to show Ron the scar on her chest.

Ron let out a gasp. "W-What happened?"

Blair threw the Quaffle and caught it repeatedly. "Well, Voldemort cast a spell on me that night. And I somehow got a scar like Harry, but well, it hurts from time to time, but it's fine."

Ron smiled sadly before patting her on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Blair. I keep on asking you for help, but it seems that I'm never there for you."

Blair laughed slightly before grinning at Ron. "You gave me Quidditch, Ron. That's more than enough." 

"Hey, Ron?" said Blair as they stopped for a break.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I have a chance with Mione this time around?"

Ron stared at her for a few moments, trying to see if she was joking. How could she not see that Hermione looked at her the same way Blair looked at her? He opened his mouth then closed it before ruffling Blair's hair. "Of course, Blair. Maybe, this year is really your year."

Blair smiled widely. "You think so?"

"I know so," said Ron. They grinned at each other before going to practice again.

When they finished, they started on their way to the Common Room, and suddenly, they ran into Harry. Blair waved goodbye to Ron and patted Harry on the shoulder with her left hand as she went on her way. She immediately went to the library, sighed in relief when she was the only one there and took out her parchment and quill. Blair drowned in her thoughts as she mindlessly did her work. She felt so weak and so fragile, but she didn't want to tell anyone still.

She felt that it was her parents' memory that she saw defending as she kept silent and fought through the pain. Blair stopped writing and stared at her hand. What would her parents think if they saw her right now? She smiled slightly. Olivia would have been mad. She would have yelled at Umbridge as soon as she knew. Blake would be silent, but there would be that silent fury in him.

The most comforting thought for Blair was that they would be proud of her. That was enough. She'd take on all the pain and sorrow if it meant her parents would be happy, proud of their daughter. Too immersed in her thoughts, Blair didn't notice that Hermione had entered the library and walked straight towards Blair with a worried look on her face.

"Blair —" Hermione abruptly cut herself off and her hands flew to her mouth.

Blair looked around and her eyes widened. She looked at her hand then at Hermione before trying to hide it. "It's just a cut — it's nothing — it's —"

But Hermione had grabbed her forearm and pulled the back of Blair's hand up level with her eyes. Tears came into Hermione's eyes. "Oh, Blair." Blair looked away for a second before taking a deep breath and wiping the tears that fell from Hermione's eyes. 

"I thought you said she was giving you lines?" Hermione said shakily. Blair hesitated, but she thought it was time, so she told Hermione the truth about the hours she had been spending in Umbridge's office.

"That — that foul person!" Hermione whispered revoltingly as she gently ran her fingers over Blair's hand. "She's sick! Go to McGonagall, say something!"

Blair winced and shook her head. "No. I'm not giving her the satisfaction of knowing she's got to me."

"Got to you? You can't let her get away with this! If you can't tell McGonagall, tell Dumbledore." Hermione said angrily.

Blair let out a sigh and shook her head. "No, he's got enough on his mind." Dumbledore hadn't spoken to her or Harry since June. She wasn't going to him for help.

Hermione stared at her for a few moments, still holding Blair's hand. Blair looked down and mumbled. "Sorry. For keeping it."

Hermione sighed and shook her head before looking at Blair. "No, I—I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Mione. C-Can you just hold me?" Blair said in a small voice. Hermione held Blair tight as Blair hugged her back. Blair relaxed in Hermione's arms and rested her head on the witch's shoulder. Hermione knew that Blair didn't need reprimanding right now. She needed someone to be there for her, someone to listen. And Blair was grateful that Hermione understood. She was all Blair needed. No matter what happened, she would be fine if it meant having Hermione by her side.

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Friday dawned sullen and sodden as the rest of the week. Blair finished her homework during breakfast and sighed when she looked at the staff's table. She missed Hagrid.

Two things sustained Blair that day. One was the thought that it was almost the weekend; the other was that, dreadful though her final detention with Umbridge was sure to be, she had a distant view of the Quidditch pitch from her window and might, with luck, be able to see something of Ron's tryout. These were rather feeble rays of light, it was true, but Blair was grateful for anything that might lighten her present darkness; she had never had a worse first week of term at Hogwarts.

Hermione sent her off with worried eyes, but Blair reassured her she'd be fine since it was the last. At five o'clock that evening she knocked on Professor Umbridge's office door for what she sincerely hoped would be the final time, was told to enter and did so. The blank parchment lay ready for him on the lace-covered table, the pointed black quill beside it. "You know what to do, Ms. Wood," said Umbridge, smiling sweetly over at her.

Blair picked up the quill and shifted her chair an inch or so to the right. She now had a distant view of the Gryffindor Quidditch team soaring up and down the pitch, while half a dozen black figures stood at the foot of the three high goalposts, apparently awaiting their turn to Keep. It was impossible to tell which one was Ron at this distance.

I must not tell lies, Blair wrote. The cut in the back of her right hand opened and began to bleed afresh.

I must not tell lies. The cut dug deeper, stinging and smarting.

I must not tell lies. Blood trickled down her wrist.

She chanced another glance out of the window. Whoever was defending the goalposts now was doing a very poor job indeed. Katie Bell scored twice in the few seconds Blair dared watch. Hoping very much that the Keeper wasn't Ron, she dropped her eyes back to the parchment dotted with blood.

I must not tell lies.

I must not tell lies.

She looked up whenever she thought she could risk it, when she could hear the scratching of Umbridge's quill or the opening of a desk drawer. The third person to try out was pretty good. Blair's mood lightened up a bit at the thought that that was Ron. The fourth was terrible, the fifth dodged a Bludger exceptionally well but then fumbled an easy save. The sky was darkening so that Blair doubted she would be able to watch the sixth and seventh people at all.

I must not tell lies.

I must not tell lies.

The parchment was now shining with drops of blood from the back of her hand, which was searing with pain. When she next looked up, night had fallen and the Quidditch pitch was no longer visible.

"Let's see if you've gotten the message yet, shall we?" said Umbridge's soft voice half an hour later. She moved toward her, stretching out her short beringed fingers for her arm.

And then, as she took hold of Blair to examine the words now cut into her skin, pain seared, not across the back of her hand, but across the scar on her chest. At the same time, she had a most peculiar sensation somewhere around her midriff. Blair wrenched her arm out of her grip and leapt to her feet, staring at her.

Umbridge looked back at her, a smile stretching her wide, slack mouth. "Yes, it hurts, doesn't it?" she said softly. She did not answer. Her heart was thumping very hard and fast. Was she talking about her hand or did she know what she had just felt in her chest?

"Well, I think I've made my point, Ms. Wood. You may go."

Blair caught up her schoolbag and left the room as quickly as she could. Stay calm, she repeated to herself as she sprinted up the stairs. "Mimbulus mimbletonia!" she gasped at the Fat Lady, who swung forward once more. A roar of sound greeted her.

Ron came running toward her, beaming all over his face and slopping butterbeer down his front from the goblet he was clutching. "Blair, I did it, I'm in, I'm Keeper! Thank you so much!"

"What? Oh — brilliant!" said Blair, trying to smile naturally, while her heart continued to race and her hand throbbed and bled.

"Have a butterbeer." Ron pressed a bottle onto her. "I can't believe it — where's Hermione gone?"

"She's there," said Fred, who was also swigging butterbeer, and pointed to an armchair by the fire. Hermione was dozing in it, her drink tipping precariously in her hand. Blair chuckled at the thought that she could be tired because she was making the hats for the house-elves.

"Well, she said she was pleased when I told her," said Ron, looking slightly put out.

"Let her sleep," said George hastily. Blair smiled slightly when she noticed some of the first years bore unmistakable signs of recent nosebleeds.

"Come here, Ron, and see if Oliver's old robes fit you," called Katie Bell. "We can take off his name and put yours on instead..."

As Ron moved away, Angelina came striding up to Blair. "Sorry I was a bit short with you earlier, Blair," she said abruptly. "It's stressful, this managing lark, you know, I'm starting to think I was a bit hard on Wood sometimes."

She was watching Ron over the rim of her goblet with a slight frown on her face. "Look, I know he's your best mate, but he's not fabulous," she said bluntly. "I think with a bit of training he'll be all right, though. He comes from a family of good Quidditch players. I'm banking on him turning out to have a bit more talent than he showed today, to be honest.

"Vicky Frobisher and Geoffrey Hooper both flew better this evening, but Hooper's a real whiner, he's always moaning about something or other, and Vicky's involved in all sorts of societies, she admitted herself that if training clashed with her Charm Club she'd put Charms first. Anyway, we're having a practice session at two o'clock tomorrow, so just make sure you're there this time. And do me a favor and help Ron as much as you can, okay?"

Blair nodded and Angelina strolled back to Katie. Blair hid her hand in her robes and moved over to sit next to Hermione, who awoke with a jerk as she put down her bag. Harry sat down beside them.

"Oh, Blair, it's you... Good about Ron, isn't it?" she said blearily.

"I'm just so — so — so tired," Hermione yawned. "I was up until one o'clock making more hats. They're disappearing like mad!"

"You all right, Blair?" Harry said worriedly.

Blair hesitated before nodding, wanting to tell them already. "Listen, Harry, Hermione. I was just up in Umbridge's office and she touched my arm..."

Harry and Hermione listened closely. When Blair had finished her story (minus what actually happened with the Blood Quill), Harry closed his eyes and sighed. "Well, I didn't notice if mine hurt at the time. We were playing Quidditch."

Hermione looked confused. "Wait, what do you mean, what scar?"

Blair and Harry exchanged glances before they explained everything to Hermione. Blair slightly pulled down her shirt and showed her. Just like the night before, Hermione looked horrified, but she didn't say anything else for the moment.

Blair frowned at the hurt look in Hermione's eyes before standing up. "Harry, I think we're turning in for the night." Harry nodded and waved goodbye as she and Hermione went up the stairs to their empty dorm room. Blair and Hermione sat down on Blair's bed, silent for a few moments.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione said, her voice cracking.

Blair glanced at her before fixing her eyes on the door. "I didn't want to bother you."

Hermione scoffed before standing up and stopping right in front of Blair, who immediately avoided her gaze. "Look at me." Blair was defiant and she shook her head.

Hermione cupped her face and forced Blair to look into her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Blair felt her heart break when she saw Hermione's eyes filled with tears and she raised her scarred hand to wipe away a tear. "I was scared, Mione. You know how I feel for you, and I don't think I can let myself be weak around you, but why is it that I just look into your eyes, and I feel everything I've been keeping in pouring out?" Blair closed her eyes and held back her tears.

"You don't have to be so guarded all the time, Blair. You can cry on us like we've been crying on you." Hermione said softly. She took Blair's hand and rubbed it gently. "Let me take care of you, Blair."

Blair opened her eyes and stared into Hermione's. The warm eyes that told Blair everything was going to be all right. She took a deep breath before telling Hermione everything about that night. It was her first time reliving it again since she and Harry had to tell Dumbledore and Sirius all about it. She glanced towards Hermione for her reactions, but Hermione was smiling at her gently, telling her everything will be fine.

"And we got back through the Portkey." Blair finished her story and looked at Hermione.

Hermione nodded and smiled slightly at Blair. "There, all done." Blair looked confused before she looked down at her hand. It wasn't bleeding anymore, and it was wrapped in a bandage. She didn't even notice that Hermione had done it.

Blair smiled softly at Hermione. "Thank you, Mione. You always make everything feel right."

Hermione chuckled softly before caressing Blair's cheek. "No, Blair. Thank you. For trusting me and telling me everything."

Blair smiled widely before smirking. "You know, Granger, I'd like it if you always held my hand. It feels quite heavy, you know."

Hermione rolled her eyes before smiling back and intertwining their fingers. "I'm holding your hand, Wood."

"And you've already got my heart." Blair winked at her. Hermione blushed before laughing out loud. Blair started laughing with her, but they both knew it was true. Blair was just waiting for Hermione to accept her while Hermione was just waiting for the right time to tell Blair. Time was ticking, but their love was growing.

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Hello, everyone! I'm sorry for the long wait since exam week just finished. I hope you're all doing fine and you enjoy the chapter uwu. Stay safe and have a good day! <3

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