Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter.

Hey all. Sorry I haven't updated in a few days. Every year, my highschool, Overbrook School for the Blind, has a reunion weekend, so I was at that. It was so cool!

Thanks to all who reviewed. I'm glad you like the twist with Ron doing the detentionbs instead of Harry. I definitely think Ron's grown up this year!

Okay, here's the next chapter!

Chapter 50: I Will Not Listen to Lies

At dinner, Harry and Hermione saw Ron again. He was looking very angry, and had his hands balled into fists. "You won't believe it," he muttered. "I've got detention with Umbridge every damn day this week, starting tomorrow."

"You're joking!" said Harry.

"Nope," said Ron furiously. "She's giving me detention for telling the truth!"

"Thanks for sticking up for me, mate, but perhaps you shouldn't have done that," Harry tried to tell him. "Sirius and Remus told me Umbridge'll do anything to try to provoke you. I explained that on the train, remember?"

"Oh yeah," said Ron grumpily. "But she's so stupid."

"Ron," said Hermione pleadingly, "just please don't lose your temper again in front of her. Do you really want detention every day this year?"

"I don't need a lecture, Hermione," snapped Ron. "I just hate being told by her that we can't do any magic when You-Know-Who has returned!"

Hermione pursed her lips and said nothing. Harry continued to eat his dinner, worried for what Ron's detentions would be.

Angelina Johnson then came marching up to them, looking important. "Guess what?" she said cheerfully. "I'm the Quidditch captain this year! Tryouts for keeper will be held this Saturday."

Harry thought he saw something flicker across Ron's face, but when he looked closer, it was gone.

"That's great, Angelina! Congratulations!" Ginny said.

"Thanks, Ginny," said Angelina. Lowering her voice, she then said, "By the way, I believe you, Harry. But please tell Ron to chill when it comes to Umbridge. His little outburst today has travelled through the rumor mill. You know what Hogwarts is like."

"Yeah," said Harry, and he noticed that many people from all the house tables were looking at Ron, some with disdain, others with admiration.

After dinner, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville all went back to the common room. They'd left dinner early in order to stay away from all the people who looked like they wanted to question Ron. However, they were not entirely successful. Walking along the corridor arm in arm were the two sixth-year Gryffindor prefects, and as the five friends journeyed onward, the two stopped them.

"Hello," said the boy, smiling. "My name's Ian Davis. I don't think you guys know me too well. This here's my girlfriend, Sarah."

"Hi," said Sarah, smiling also. "We just wanted to let you know, Harry, that we believe you."

Harry looked bewildered; he'd never been approached by these people before. "Uh, thanks," he said, embarrassed.

"We mean it," said Ian sincerely. "My mum was killed by a Death Eater during You-Know-Who's first reign. My dad's since remarried, but it was very painful for him to lose her. He's told me stories about how terrible the First War was, and Sarah and I want to do everything we can to prepare for what's ahead."

"I'm sorry to hear about your mum," said Harry. "But thanks for your understanding."

"We've got your back, Harry," said Sarah. "And Ron, I think that was very brave of you to stand up to Umbridge like that."

"Thanks," said Ron, flushing.

"We've got to get going now," said Ian, squeezing Sarah's hand. The two of them smiled at the five friends. "We've got to go to the library. But we'll see you later, all right?"

"All right," said Hermione. "Thanks for talking to us."

"No problem," said Sarah, and the couple walked away.

"They're really nice," said Ginny. "I've seen them before around the common room. They've been going out since last year, I think."

"They look really happy," said Neville.

When the three arrived back in the common room, Hermione proceeded to sit down and start knitting. "What are you doing?" Ron demanded as he looked at her work.

"Knitting house-elf hats," answered Hermione in a self-satisfied voice.

"You've got to be kidding me," said Ron immediately. "Can't you see, Hermione? House-elves DON'T WANT to be free!"

"Give it a rest, Ron!" said Hermione angrily.

But Ron wouldn't let the subject drop. "So you're going to stick the hats all around the common room? The elves aren't going to pick them up, you know," he said smugly.

"Watch this," stormed Hermione, setting down a hat and putting a bunch of papers on top of it.

"That's just not on," said Ron furiously. "That's just wrong on so many levels."

"SLAVERY is what's wrong on so many levels, Ronald Weasley," yelled Hermione, losing her temper. "Just leave me alone!"

"Fine," sighed Ron, giving her an exasperated look.

Fred and George entered the common room, followed by an enormous gaggle of first-years. To Hermione's dismay, the twins started testing their products on them. "Ron, we're prefects," said Hermione crossly. "We have to stop this nonsense!"

"They can do what they want, they're not hurting the first-years," Ron defended his brothers.

"Oh, fine," snarled Hermione, going over to Fred and George. "You will stop that this instant!" she said bossily.

"Says who?" said Fred, giving one of the first-years the antidote to a Nosebleed Nougat.

"Says me, and I'm a prefect," said Hermione. "It's not right to be doing this! What if the products are really dangerous?"

"Ah, come on, you claim to be smart, Hermione," jibed George. "Haven't you figured out that we tested them on ourselves first?"

"It doesn't matter," Hermione snapped.

"I see that ickle Ronniekins agrees with what we're doing," said Fred, chortling. "And no teacher's trying to stop us. Old McGonagall hasn't said anything to us."

"Fine! Go ahead and make yourselves sick, then!" shouted Hermione, and she looked close to tears. "I'm going to bed," she announced, her voice quivering. She then stormed up the stairs to her dormitory.

"Reckon it's that time of the month?" Ron snickered.

"Dunno," said Harry, blushing. "Guess she's had a hard day."

"Blimey, she's a bit sensitive though, isn't she?" said George.

"You're telling me, brother mine," answered Fred.

xxx

The next morning's classes were Charms and Transfiguration. Both McGonagall and Flitwick stressed how important the OWL's were, and Harry grew more nervous by the second. These tests sounded like an extremely big deal.

Fortunately, Hermione seemed to be in a better mood. She and Ron had not apologized for their argument the night before, but Harry had noticed over the years that they seemed to take their arguments as a part of their complicated relationship. Both of them were polite around each other and talked normally, not mentioning house-elf hats or Fred and George's Skiving Snackboxes at all.

Lunch followed these classes, and after that was Care of Magical Creatures. Harry wondered what class with Professor Grubbly-Plank would be like, and knew he was going to ask her what had happened to Hagrid.

Today, they were studying creatures called bowtruckles. As each pair of students went up to get one to look at, Harry asked, "Professor, where's Hagrid?"

"Never you mind," said Professor Grubbly-Plank.

"I do mind," said Ron cheekily. "Where is he?"

"It isn't any of your business," said Grubbly-Plank sternly. "Now, kindly get on with your work, please."

As Harry and Ron made their way over to where Hermione and Neville were working, they heard a quiet voice snickering with Crabbe and Goyle.

"Maybe the great oaf's got himself involved in something that's TOO BIG for him, if you get my drift," drawled Draco Malfoy. "Maybe he's gone and finally gotten himself killed."

"Would you shut the hell up, Malfoy!" Harry snarled. Hermione gave him a pleading look, begging him to not let Malfoy get to him.

"Ah, always there to defend the poor and misunderstood, Potter," sneered Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle snorted with laughter. "My father did always say that the Headmaster hired useless people to teach at this school."

"Your father also licks Voldemort's boots," Harry almost shouted. Many people in the class gasped. A look of rage swept across Malfoy's pale and pointed face.

"That is quite enough," said Grubbly-Plank crossly. "Five points from both Gryffindor and Slytherin. I do not want to encounter any more disturbances!"

Harry was squeezing his bowtruckle so hard that the thing was squealing in pain. Realizing what he was doing, he quickly let go.

The class then went on in silence, but Harry and Malfoy kept glowering at each other. Ron kept giving the blond Slytherin vicious looks as well.

When the Gryffindors made their way to the greenhouses for Herbology, they saw Ginny exiting along with another girl. Harry recognized her as the girl who'd been standing next to Slughorn on the train. She was still wearing her radish earrings and had her wand behind her ear.

"Oh, it's Loony Lovegood," Ron whispered in Harry's ear.

"That's not nice, Ron," said Harry. "She can't be that bad."

Luna marched up to Harry, looking dreamy. She smiled brightly at him and said, "By the way, Harry, I believe that you fought You-Know-Who and that he killed Cedric Diggory. After all, it's just as believable as all the stories my dad told me about crumple-horned snorkacks."

"Crumple-horned who?" said Ron, trying not to laugh.

"Crumple-horned snorkacks," Luna repeated.

"Luna, there is no such thing as one of those," said Hermione as though it settled the matter.

"Oh, don't be so close-minded," breathed Luna. She walked away with Ginny, smiling at Harry as she went.

Harry had felt a pang in his heart at hearing Cedric's name, but tried to hide the sadness he was feeling. After all, he just found another person who believed him. But what on Earth was a crumple-horned snorkack?

Ron seemed to read Harry's thoughts. "You can do better than her, mate," he told him. "Apparently, she only believes things her dad tells her. He's the editor of the Quibbler."

"What's that?"

"It's a newspaper that's not at all as popular as the Daily Prophet," explained Hermione. "It basically spouts out wild stories."

"Oh," said Harry dejectedly as they walked into the greenhouse.

xxx

That evening after dinner, Ron went to Umbridge's office for his detention, the thing he was absolutely dreading. He hoped that the stupid woman wouldn't make him do anything too bad. But he'd learned from his mistake last year when it came to Harry; he was now going to believe everything his friend told him, no matter what this Ministry fanatic tried to drill into him.

As he made his way to the office, he thought about how ridiculous this whole state of affairs was. Harry and Cedric had been taken right from school grounds, and the entire school had seen it! How could Umbridge be telling everyone that they shouldn't learn how to defend themselves? He remembered with fury what had been written in the Daily Prophet about Dumbledore. The articles had said how negligent he was, and about how it was his fault that Cedric's death had occurred. "The Ministry is making sure that a tragedy of this magnitude will never happen again," the writing had proclaimed. Ron snorted in disgust.

"Good evening, Mr. Weasley," said Umbridge sweetly as Ron walked into the DADA office. The whole thing looked absolutely, mind-bogglingly dreadful. There were pictures of cats all around the room, and also little cat ornaments. Umbridge was wearing her usual pink cardigan, and today there seemed to be even more bows in her hair.

"Good evening," Ron mumbled miserably, feeling nauseous as he looked around the sickening room.

"Ah, no, no, no, let's try that again!" simpered Umbridge. "Good evening, Mr. Weasley!"

"Good evening, Professor Umbridge," said Ron, glaring at her.

"Now, that's better," said Umbridge. "All right, I would like you to sit down and write some lines for me."

"Lines?" said Ron. He noticed that a piece of parchment was sitting on the desk. He sat down in the chair, and was about to get his quill and ink when Umbridge stopped him.

"Yes, lines," she said cheerfully. "And no, don't get out your quill. I'm going to let you use a special one of mine."

"Oh," said Ron, a bad feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. A small, pointy quill was placed on the desk in front of him. "What do you want me to write?"

"You shall write "I will not listen to lies,"" said Professor Umbridge, smiling widely.

Ron scowled angrily at her. "But Harry's not lying!" he snarled.

"You know he is," said Umbridge quietly. "And you know you deserve to be punished."

"Fine," Ron sneered. "But where's the ink?"

"Ah, you will not need ink, Mr. Weasley," said Umbridge, pleasure seeping from every word. "Begin, please."

Furiously, Ron began writing the words "I will not listen to lies". But as he wrote them, he felt a sharp pain on the back of his hand. "Owwwww!" he cried. "What the bloody hell?"

"Language, Mr. Weasley. You do need to watch that foul mouth of yours," said Umbridge in her sugary voice.

Ron paid her no attention; he looked at the back of his hand and saw the words "I will not listen to lies" there. He also saw that the words were on the parchment in bright red ink, but it really wasn't ink at all. It was his own blood.

"P-Professor!" stuttered Ron incredulously. "You can't!"

"Is there a problem, Mr. Weasley?" questioned Umbridge.

"Problem? There's definitely a problem," snorted Ron viciously. "This is a BLOOD QUILL! You can't make me use this! It's ILLEGAL!"

"Ah, yes, you are correct, of course," smiled Umbridge. "Any pureblood would know about the inner workings of these delightful things."

"You're evil, you are," shouted Ron, standing up and waving the quill in Umbridge's face. "I refuse to use this!"

"Ah, I think you will be using it, Mr. Weasley," simpered Umbridge, her toadish smile growing even wider. "I have no doubt of that. A little of this ..." She waved her wand at Ron, "will do the trick."

"What the hell did you just do?" yelled Ron. "I'll tell a teacher, you know I will!"

"That little spell I just cast on you," said Umbridge, smirking, "will make you speak gibberish if you even breathe as much as one word to a teacher. Go ahead and try it now. Say "Professor Umbridge made me use a blood quill in detention."" She waited smugly for the result.

"Professor Umbridge made me use a ... plchinsofsmggcsuumm," said Ron, the words "blood quill" becoming absolute rubbish as he said them.

Umbridge clapped her hands together in pure joy. "See?" she whispered softly. "You will not be saved this time."

"But people will see that I've got the words written on the back of my hand!" spluttered Ron.

"Oh, yes?" said Umbridge, a nasty expression stealing across her face. "You do think you're a smart boy, don't you?" She waved her wand again. "Look at your hand, boy."

So Ron did, dreading what he'd see. The hand was still stinging like crazy, but the words were no longer there.

"Concealing Charms can be very useful," said Umbridge, smiling still more widely. "Now go ahead and do as I asked, please. You know, deep down, that you were a very, very bad boy and you deserve to be punished."

"You can't make me write what you want me to write," Ron roared, still glowering at his teacher.

"Well, the Imperius Curse ought to teach you a lesson," said Umbridge sweetly.

"Fine!" exclaimed Ron, his entire demeanor looking shocked. "I'll do it!"

"Ah, I knew that would keep your mouth under control," said Umbridge with a tiny, girlish laugh. "Now do as you are told, please."

Unintelligible, angry words spurted from Ron's lips as he sat defeatedly in his seat and began to write the words over and over again. "How many times?" he asked angrily.

"Oh, as many as it takes for the message to sink in," said Umbridge happily.

So ron sat there for hours, writing the words "I will not listen to lies" what felt like a thousand times. Eventually, Umbridge stood up and walked over to the furious boy. "Let me see," she whispered as she took a hold of his hand. She undid the Concealing Charm, then redid it. "I think that's enough for today. But you will be sure to come back tomorrow, will you not?"

"Maybe I just won't come," said Ron. "You can't make me."

"I think you will come if you know what's good for you," giggled Umbridge. "After all, you do not want your friends experiencing the same fate, do you?"

"You're evil, you stupid bitch!" snarled Ron as he stood up, wrenched the door open and stormed out of the room, leaving Umbridge beaming in his wake.

xxx

When Ron arrived back in the common room, everyone was gone. Part of him was a little hurt that his friends hadn't stayed awake to wait up for him, but another part of him said, you can't expect them to do that, you stupid prat. After all, he was extremely exhausted from his night's work. The vicious anger was still there, and he knew, that even as tired as he was, he wouldn't get much sleep tonight.

And his suspicions were right. Ron tossed and turned in his four-poster that night, knowing Harry had put Silencing Charms around his bed so that his nightmares about Cedric would not be heard. Ron had tried to get his friend to open up to him and talk about his dreams, but the boy refused to, saying he was going to handle that in his therapy sessions. Ron was a little appeased, but not much. He felt terrible that Harry had to deal with all this.

Above all, he was absolutely livid with Dolores Umbridge. She had forbidden him to tell a teacher what was going on by placing a spell on him, she had concealed the back of his hand so no one could see her true cruelty displayed. What a horrible, despicable, loathsome woman, he thought, rage slicing through him. He made a silent vow to himself that he would find a way to undo these charms. He'd look in every book in the library if that was what it took. He felt like such a sorry excuse for a wizard, because he should have known what sick game Umbridge was going to play. He decided he wouldn't even try and tell his friends what was going on, he'd just try to figure out how to undo the damage all by himself. After all, his goal was to try and do something without Harry and Hermione's help for a change, and he promised himself that he would stop Dolores Umbridge, whatever the cost.