The following day saw double charms AND double transfiguration. And. Even. More. Homework. Between the amount of work piling up and the way every professor kept drilling in the importance of their O.W.L.s, Harry was growing more overwhelmed by the minute.

Not having had the energy to complete any homework the previous night, Harry elected to skip lunch to try and catch up. Neville and Ron decided to join him. Neville was desperate for any help he could get, and when Harry asked Ron why he hadn't gotten started the night before, he received an evasive answer. His stack of homework was too high for him to worry about whatever Ron was hiding from him, so Harry let it go.

"It appears we'll have to wait a week or two to begin your lessons Neville," Harry remarked while they researched for their potions essay. "With detention every day this week, who knows how long it will take me to catch up on all this work."

"It's no problem Harry," Neville said. "Just you and Ron being here to help me means a lot."

"What's this about lessons?" Ron asked.

"Harry offered to help tutor me this year," Neville answered.

"Really?" Ron asked, perking up. "Mind if I join? I'm not exactly top of the class myself."

Harry thought about it for a moment. It surely wouldn't hurt anything to have Ron join them. "Sure mate," Harry said finally. "But like I said, it may be a week or two."

"Works for me," Ron said.

The three packed up their belongings and headed down to the edge of the forest for their first Care of Magical Creatures class. Professor Grubbly-Plank was waiting for them next to what looked like a pile of twigs.

"Good afternoon everyone," Grubbly-Plank said after the entire class had assembled. She pointed to the pile of twigs. "Can anyone tell me what these are?"

Hermione's hand shot up. Behind her, Malfoy began impersonating her by pretending to jump up and down with his hand in the air. His cronies barely tried hiding their laughter, but Grubbly-Plank didn't seem to notice anything. Harry did though. Harry noticed. Anger boiled in him. The previous evening had painted Malfoy in a much better light than Harry had ever seen him before. And in his dreams, there had been a distant blond figure Harry could never quite reach. At that moment, Harry and Malfoy made eye contact and Harry narrowed his eyes at the Slytherin. Harry couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw a blush start to appear on the blonde's cheeks before he turned away.

When Harry turned back towards the front, Hermione was announcing that the twigs were in fact bowtruckles. Grubbly-Plank awarded her five points and explained to the class exactly what bowtruckles were and assigned them the task of examining them closely and sketching them. As they split up into groups, Harry tried to get some answers from their replacement professor.

"Where's Hagrid?" he asked Grubbly-Plank as she walked by.

"Never you mind," she said dismissively and moved to the next table.

"Maybe the stupid oaf's finally gone and got himself injured," piped up a familiar voice. Harry turned and came face-to-face with Malfoy.

"Yeah?" Harry asked. "Well maybe you will too if you're not careful."

"Maybe he's been messing with stuff that's too big for him, if you get my drift." With that, Malfoy walked away to his table smirking. Harry was shaking with anger. He didn't understand why Malfoy was acting the way he was. It was certainly normal behavior for the Slytherin, but the previous evening was not. Harry wasn't sure what to think, so he chose to focus on the larger problem: Hagrid. He turned to the others and quickly whispered what Malfoy had told him.

"Dumbledore would know if something had happened to Hagrid," said Hermione at once. "Don't let Malfoy get into your head."

'Well just because Dumbledore knows something doesn't mean he is willing to share," Harry said bitterly. "Or do anything about it." Before Hermione could respond, they heard Malfoy speaking loudly behind them.

"Well according to father, the Ministry is really determined to crack down on substandard teaching at Hogwarts," Malfoy drawled. "So even if the overgrown moron is brave enough to show his face again, he'll probably just be sent packing."

"OUCH!" Harry had gripped the bowtruckle too hard. It had retaliated by swiping at his hand. Malfoy's cronies, who were already laughing at his comments about Hagrid, nearly keeled over at the sight of Harry's bloodstained hand and his bowtruckle making a run for the woods. Harry glared at Malfoy and was about to say something when he was interrupted by Hermione.

"Don't go picking a row with Malfoy Harry," she warned. "He's a prefect now. He can make life difficult for you."

"Oh wow I wonder what that would be like?" said Harry sarcastically. With that, they packed up their things and headed to the greenhouses for their herbology class. As they approached, a group of fourth years exited, including Ginny who greeted them as she passed. Not long after, Luna Lovegood emerged. She made a beeline for Harry when she saw him. Several classmates turned curiously to watch.

"Hello Harry."

"Hey Luna," Harry said.

"I believe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, and I believe you fought him and escaped from him," she responded without any preamble.

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks Luna." She was wearing what appeared to be orange radishes for earrings, which Parvati and Lavender were giggling about. Luna wrongly assumed they were laughing at her statement and confronted them about their disbelief. After Hermione shot Luna's ridiculous claims down, she stalked off.

"Do you think you could try not to offend the people who believe me?" Harry asked.

"Oh you can do better than her Harry," Hermione said. "Apparently…"

"Apparently nothing Hermione," Harry retorted. "I happen to like Luna and I am happy to have her on my side." They all made to go to class, but were approached by Ernie Macmillan before they could take more than a few steps.

"I just want you to know 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."

"Um," Harry stuttered. "Thanks Ernie." Ernie's words had wiped the smile from Lavender's face and even Seamus looked confused. "I really appreciate it. But just so you know, I also appreciate Luna's support, and I would appreciate it even more if people didn't make fun of my friends."

Ernie looked taken aback for a moment, but then smiled at Harry. "A man who sticks up for his friends. That just solidifies my belief in you." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Harry feeling better than he had in days.

The feeling lasted all through herbology, as, for one, Neville was able to help them. Out of all of his classes at the moment, Harry felt the most secure in herbology. However, Harry's good mood didn't last long after class let out, as before he knew it, dinner was over and it was time for his first detention with Umbridge. It didn't help that he got an earful from Angelina about missing tryouts that coming Friday. He glumly made his way to Umbridge's office.

He knocked on her door, and her sugary voice beckoned him to enter. He tried to mask his shock as he made his way in. The room was unrecognizable from the last time Harry was there. He actually had to wipe his eyes to be sure he wasn't hallucinating. The room was decked out in lace, various shades of pink, and an entire wall of ornamental plates displaying technicolor kittens. He was so absorbed in the nightmare that was the room, he was startled when Umbridge greeted him. She instructed him to sit at a small table near her desk.

"So, what will I be doing?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Lines," she answered sweetly.

"Lines?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter," she replied. "Lines. This is going to be your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories."

It took everything Harry had to restrain himself at her words. With great effort, he dropped his belongings to the floor and sat down.

"There, there," she said sweetly. "We're getting better already." Harry moved to get his quill out, eager to get this ordeal over with. "No, no. Not with your quill," Umbridge added. "You'll be using my special quill." She handed him a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point. "I want you to write 'I must not tell lies."

Harry gritted his teeth. "How many times?"

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in."

"You haven't given me any ink."

"You won't need any," she said, with the smallest hint of a laugh in her voice.

Harry turned to his parchment and wrote out his first line. Then, he let out a gasp of pain as the words appeared on the parchment in bright red ink, at the same time that they appeared on the back of his hand. As he watched the skin healed over again and the words disappeared. He could feel Umbridge watching him and refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing she had gotten to him. So he gritted his teeth again and kept writing. After what seemed like hours of enduring the pain of those words being etched into his hand again and again, she finally examined it, and allowed him to leave.

He held his head high as he left the room, but once he was out of sight he gingerly cradled his hand and examined the damage. You couldn't quite see the words, but it was clear something was wrong. He didn't want to go to the common room right away and risk anyone seeing, so he went to the only place he could think of: the astronomy tower. Imagine his surprise when he walked in to find none other than Draco Malfoy already there.

Harry quickly hid his hand in his robes, and the two stood staring at each other for several moments before saying at the exact same time, "What are you doing here?" They stared at each other in silence for a moment, each considering the best way to respond. Malfoy finally broke the silence.

"You're not the only one who occasionally needs a place to think," Malfoy spat out. "This tower is the best place in the school to be alone."

"Yeah, well why do you think I came here?" Harry spat back. "Seeing as you've had your time, why don't you scamper off and let me have some peace."

"Not a chance Potter," Malfoy said. "You don't own this space." They stared at each other for several minutes. Neither willing to budge.

"Why were you such an ass earlier?" Harry finally asked.

"In case the past four years haven't given you a clue it's kind of our thing," Malfoy answered.

"It wasn't our thing last night," Harry responded.

Malfoy hesitated for a moment. "Last night was different," he said quietly. "And it was a one-time deal." He looked out the window away from Harry. "It won't happen again."

This made Harry unreasonably angry, though he wasn't sure why. "Works for me," he said out loud, unwilling to admit it didn't work for him at all. After a few more beats of silence, Malfoy finally caved, though he tried to cover it up.

"I've got prefect duty to go get ready for," he said. "Better not be here too late Potter. It'll be the first place I check after curfew."

"Still stalking me I see."

Malfoy blushed. "Watch yourself Potter." With that, he angrily stalked out of the room. Right as he reached the stairwell, Harry spoke up.

"It was disgusting."

Malfoy stopped and turned to Harry confused. "What was?"

"Umbridge's office," Harry clarified. "It was covered in lace, in the most atrocious pinks you could possibly imagine. And she has the most horrendous kitten-themed ornamental plates. It took all I had not to vomit."

Malfoy huffed a laugh, and looked as though he wanted to say something. But before he could, he remembered who he was talking too, and he quickly vacated the tower. Harry sighed and turned to the window. Why did this have to be so complicated? Harry thought that if he could have counted on anything, it was being enemies with Malfoy. It would seem that he could count on exactly nothing this year. It worried him to think about what else he couldn't count on.

The next two days were just as bad. Harry struggled to keep up with his classes, scribbling down bits of homework whenever he got a spare minute and failing miserably within the classes themselves. His detentions with Umbridge were all just as bad as the first. Every night, the words on his hand grew more pronounced.

On his way back from his third detention, he ran into Ron, who was attempting to hide his new broom behind his back.

"Uhh, what are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Er…nothing," Ron said unconvincingly. "What are you doing?"

"Seriously," Harry said. "Are you actually trying to pretend you don't have a broom with you?"

Ron sighed. "I'm hiding from Fred and George. I don't want them to see me with it."

"Why not?" Harry asked. "And why do you have it anyway? You haven't been flying have you?"

"Well…"Ron began sheepishly. "I'll tell you, but don't laugh okay? I—I just thought I'd try out for keeper now that I've got a decent broom."

"Ron that's great," Harry said. "Why would I laugh?" Ron shrugged and looked away. "I've never seen you play. Are you good?"

"I'm not bad," he answered. "I always had to play keeper with my older brothers when they played."

"Well, now I really wish I was going to be at tryouts," Harry said dejectedly. "I wish you luck mate," Harry said patting Ron on the back. As he brought his arm back down, Ron caught sight of his hand.

"Woah, what's that?" he asked grabbing for it.

Harry yanked his hand out of the way. "Nothing," he said quickly.

"It doesn't look like nothing," Ron insisted. Harry tried to walk away, but Ron quickly stepped in front of him and refused to budge. Harry sighed and showed Ron his hand. Ron looked up at Harry in shock. "Bloody hell Harry. I thought you said she was making you do lines?"

"She is," Harry said as he started to walk away. "It's a special quill. The words carve into my hand as I write. It's nothing. I can handle it."

"It's not nothing Harry," Ron said. "You shouldn't have to handle it. This isn't punishment. This is torture. You have to tell Dumbledore!"

"Like hell," Harry said. With that, he sped up and refused to continue the conversation any further. The following evening, as Umbridge inspected Harry's hand for the final time, Harry felt the sharp sting of pain in his scar. Umbridge, thinking his reaction was due to the pain in his hand, simply smirked and informed him he could leave.

Harry sped-walked back to the dorm, heart-thumping. What did that mean? The moment he walked into the common room Ron nearly barreled into him to let him know he had been made keeper. Harry faked excitement, but inside he despaired. He couldn't curl up in his bed and talk to Sirius like he wanted. His friendship with Ron may not be what it used to, but he knew Ron would be disappointed if he didn't at least pretend to celebrate. After Harry congratulated him, he went and sat at a table with Neville and Hermione, who were doing homework amidst the celebrations.

"Hey Harry," said Neville.

"Hey Neville," Harry responded, pulling out his supplies to begin working himself. "What are you guys working on?"

"Potions," Neville said glumly.

Harry made a face. "Yes I suppose I should get that taken care of. Snape's already mad at me." They worked in silence mostly. Occasionally joining in on their classmates' celebration. As Harry reached across the table to grab a book he needed, he heard a loud gasp from Hermione. Both he and Neville turned to her.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. "What happened to your hand?" Harry tried to hide his hand, but Hermione had already grabbed it. She and Neville examined the words etched onto it and looked up at Harry in horror.

"It's nothing."

"Harry…" Hermione began.

"I said it's nothing," Harry insisted angrily.

"You know it isn't!" Hermione shot back. "You can't let her do this to you! You have to tell someone. You need to go tell Dumbledore!"

"Seriously?" Harry exclaimed. "After everything he let me suffer through over the summer you people still want me to seek his help!?"

Hermione looked down ashamed. "I understand. But Harry…"

"But nothing Hermione," Harry said. "I'm not going to him."

"What about McGonagall?" Neville asked quietly. They both looked at him. "Can't she help?"

"She'd probably just tell Dumbledore," Harry answered. "But thanks for trying Neville." Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "But there is something I do want to talk about." He looked at Hermione. "When Umbridge touched me today it made my scar hurt. Do you think Voldemort's controlling her?"

Hermione thought for a second. "I mean, I don't think we can completely rule it out, but I don't think so. The entire problem is that you are in tune with Voldemort, so maybe you felt something because he was feeling something?" Harry looked thoughtful at that. "I know you don't want to hear this, but that is also the kind of thing you should probably tell Dumbledore." Harry glared at her. Hermione sighed. "Well, if you won't tell Dumbledore, you should at least tell Sir…" Hermione stopped midsentence and looked hastily at Neville.

It was Neville's turn to sigh. He started picking up his belongings. "Don't worry, I can take a hint," he said.

Harry reached out and stopped him. "No. You shouldn't have to leave Neville. We're all on the same side." Harry looked around. "But we shouldn't talk here. Come on, let's go to our dorm and I'll catch you up."

"Yeah?"

"Yes,' Harry said. "You're my friend and I trust you. I'm not going to keep walking on eggshells when I can just tell you what's going on."

The two went upstairs and Harry caught Neville up on everything he didn't know. When they were done, Harry pulled out his mirror and introduced Neville to his godfather. If Sirius had thoughts on this development, he kept them to himself for the time being. Instead, he let Harry explain about his scar and Umbridge. Sirius had rather the same though as Hermione, but instead of suggesting he tell Dumbledore, he went an entirely different route.

"You want me to tell Snape?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Look, Harry I don't like him any more than you do, but this is exactly the kind of thing he is supposed to help you put a stop too," Sirius said. "You have a lesson tomorrow night correct?" He waited until Harry had nodded his head. "So tell him then."

Harry reluctantly agreed and was about to say goodnight when Neville stopped him with "Aren't you going to tell him about the detentions?" Harry shot Neville a look that said loud and clear: shut up.

"What about them?" Sirius asked.

Harry shook his head and was about to say nothing when Neville interrupted. "Harry, if you aren't going to go to Dumbledore, which I completely understand by the way, you should tell Sirius. I think he would want to know."

"Know what?" Sirius asked.

"Umbridge made Harry write lines with a special quill that etched the words into the back of his hand," Neville answered to Harry's dismay.

"What!?" Sirius exclaimed. "Show me." Harry reluctantly held his hand up to the mirror and showed Sirius. "That bitch!" Neville and Harry exchanged looks. "That was a blood quill Harry. Those are supposed to be illegal."

"Well considering she works for the ministry I don't think she's concerned," Harry said.

"You're probably right," Sirius said. "But it still isn't okay. I'll ask around see if there's anything we can do about this. For the time being, try not to piss her off yeah?" Harry nodded. And Sirius sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. "I have to go, but keep me updated Harry."

"I will."

"Nice to meet you Neville,' said Sirius. "I knew your parents well. If you're anything like your mum and dad, Harry's found a good friend." Sirius left before Neville could respond, but Harry thought he saw Neville wipe at his eyes as he turned away. The two got ready for bed in silence.

Harry gave clearing his mind his all, knowing his lessons with Snape were the following night. It worked a bit. He didn't have nightmares, but his dreams were rather restless. Visions of pink kittens swam in and out of visions of blond hair. All in all, Harry was rather confused the following morning, if not somewhat well-rested.