Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition (Keeper: write about friendship), the HP Potions Competition (Gregory's Unctuous Unction: Write about best friends) and the Colors Competition (Orange, positive: write about friendship).

November, 1995

Morag was the only fifth-year Ravenclaw in the common room.

It wasn't a normal occurrence, but this was an exception. Padma, Michael, Anthony, and Terry had gone off to one of their meetings; Morag still didn't know exactly what was up with that, simply that they were somehow joining forces with Harry Potter to learn DADA. Morag always wondered if learning DADA was all that went on at those meetings; it sounded far too innocent, considering Potter's reputation. Of course, Morag still wasn't sure exactly what she thought about him - she went back and forth between thinking he was a lunatic and thinking he wasn't - but still. A secret DADA group just didn't sound exactly like the sort of thing someone as notorious as Harry Potter would involve himself with.

Stephen, Kevin, and Lisa had all decided to study in the library instead of the common room, because of the amount of noise in the common room, and Mandy had retired to the dormitory to do Merlin-knew-what. Su had detention with Umbridge, which left Morag all alone in the common room. She had her Defense textbook - easily the most boring Defense book ever written - open in front of her, but it was difficult to study.

The thought of Su all alone in detention with Umbridge was not a happy thought. It was clear that Umbridge - underneath the facade of the pink-obsessed cat lover - was not a nice woman at all, and Su was Morag's best friend. She knew that Umbridge couldn't do anything too horrific - even the Ministry couldn't turn a blind eye to everything - but despite that, vile mental images still swirled in Morag's mind, until finally, she slammed the book shut and turned toward the door to wait for Su.

She didn't have to wait long. Su came in, her face paler than normal, her Ravenclaw tie tied around her hand. Morag leapt up, rushing over to Su. "What the hell?" she breathed, looking down at Su's hand. The tie was stained with dark liquid, and Morag could see what looked like dried blood on the exposed fingers. "Su, what happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm going to freaking murder somebody by the name of Dolores Jane Umbitch" was Su's response.

"Do you need Madam Pomfrey?" Morag asked.

"Umbitch is gonna need Madam Pomfrey," Su grumbled. Morag felt a slight surge of relief; Su was still Su, at least, so she hadn't been hurt too severely. The two girls went up to the dormitory, and Morag, with fumbling hands, carefully undid the knot in Su's tie, gently removing it from her hand.

The second she saw Su's hand, Morag slammed her fist against the bedpost, a harsh noise escaping her mouth. There, scarred in Su's hand, were the words I will not disrespect professors. "Damn it!" Morag half-shouted, partially out of pain - now her own hand hurt - and partially out of anger. Umbridge had absolutely no right to do whatever it was she had did to mark Su like that. That was illegal - that was torture. She could feel herself trembling with rage; nobody treated her best friend like that. Nobody.

"It's fading," Su said. "It was worse before. I reckon it'll be gone by tomorrow morning, if not sooner."

Morag whirled back to face Su. "Are you all right?"

"I guess," Su said. There was a strange look in her eyes, and Morag guessed it had something to do with her own behavior. It was always Su who was the wild one, throwing fits and hitting things she wasn't supposed to, swearing loudly for seemingly no reason. For Morag to do something like that was out of character for her, but this was an exception. This was so much more than anything that Morag had ever experienced before.

"I'm reporting this," Morag said. "Dumbledore will be glad to hear about this. Flitwick, too -"

"No," Su said. "You honestly think that'd do anything? She runs the school, Morag. She effectively runs this place. Even if we do go public with this, she's just going to deny it - especially when this fades - or she'd just make some 'educational decree' about how she was able to punish students however the hell she wanted."

"Su, she tortured you! You can't just - you can't lie down and take this shit."

The corner of Su's mouth quirked up in a smile. "Oh, don't you worry, Morag. I won't."

Morag wasn't sure exactly how long Su had been gone. She knew that Su had left roughly around midnight, but she wasn't sure now exactly what time it was, and she was too tired to bother to check. The pessimistic part of her argued that Su had gotten caught; the professors and prefect patrols were, no doubt, searching for troublemakers as they usually did, and Morag didn't know whether Su would be able to evade them.

The optimistic part of Morag - and the part that hungered for revenge against Umbridge - argued that vandalizing a classroom took time, and that Su was sure to be very thorough with doing so. For a little while, the optimistic and pessimistic parts of her argued back and forth; she couldn't be sure, since she didn't even know whether Su had been gone for twenty minutes or forty-five; her sense of time passing was greatly diminished when she was tired and it was the middle of the night.

Finally - after what seemed like an hour, but probably wasn't - the door to the girls' dormitory creaked open, and Su stepped inside. The moonlight from the window and the light from her wand both illuminated her; she was flushed, but her eyes were sparkling with excitement. "Morag?" Su whispered. "You awake?"

"Yeah." Morag propped herself up. "How'd it go?"

A devilish grin crossed over Su's features. "Oh, I wish you'd have come. I gotta say, I did a pretty fine job with the classroom. Pity we don't have DADA first; there's some really good artwork on the board that I'd love for you to see."

Morag smirked. "Who does have Defense first?"

"Third years," Su said. "Innocent little third years are going to be asking their big sisters and brothers what a few new words and phrases mean, I think."

"Unless they're like you. In which case they already know by that age."

"Ah, shut it. Anyway, the desk is pretty burned up, too -"

"You set her desk on fire?"

"And the chair is covered in slime. All the student desks and chairs are overturned, too. Looks like a storm struck the place."

"No," Morag said, "looks like you struck the place."