Nothing is mine.

Harry gets detention...

This is the Hour of Lead

Umbridge's heels clicked back and forth across the front of the classroom like the rogue hands of some broken clock erratically ticking back and forth between the same points, albeit, Harry felt, one that didn't even manage to be right once, let alone twice a day. He watched her pace, doodling an increasingly long basilisk along the top of his page as she gesticulated at the childish pictures of vampires charmed upon the blackboard and the class's shoulders sagged further and further, lulled into a grey stupor not unlike the autumn day beyond the window.

'Mr Potter?' Umbridge zeroed in on him. 'Are you paying attention?'

'Yes,' Harry replied.

'Then what was I just saying?'

'Oh, I wasn't paying attention to you; I meant my drawing.' He held it up. 'Look, it's a basilisk. You've got all the long coils and tail, the fangs of course — don't let it bite you, it really hurts — and the eyes, which you should also not look at, because it will kill you. If Myrtle hadn't told me what colour they were, I wouldn't even know they were yellow.'

Umbridge stared at him, an ugly glimmer in her bulging brown eyes. 'I was saying, Mr Potter, if you would be so kind as to pay attention to your teacher, that vampires are riddled with disgusting dark magic. Why else would they drink blood?'

'For the taste? Or maybe they have low iron, like my aunt, and they're desperate.' Harry laughed under his breath as she whirled around on him with a sour glower. 'Sorry, I thought you were still asking me things.'

'I was not.' A strained little titter tore from her lips. 'You really must learn to pay attention and listen, Mr Potter.' She thwacked her wand against the blackboard. 'I want you all to copy out the passage in the book on how to spot a dark creature like a vampire, why they're dark creatures, and how best to avoid them.'

Harry picked up his quill. 'Stay... in... the... sun...' He put the quill back down. 'Sorted.'

'Mr Potter,' Umbridge snapped. 'You will be staying after class for detention with me.'

'Could be worse,' he said. 'Unless you try to kill me; then you're just as bad as all my other Defence teachers.'

'Harry,' Hermione hissed as Umbridge prowled along the front row toward the door, fiddling with her dark pink beret. 'Stop antagonising her.'

'But it's really funny,' he complained. 'Hermione, why do you have to try and suck the joy out of this for me? Is it because I was raised by Muggles?'

'Get a new joke,' she growled, digging her heel into the top of his foot. 'The Ministry made her High Inquisitor this morning, and she now has a whole bunch of powers to mess with the school.'

'Is there a Low Inquisitor?'

'No.' Ron snickered into his copy of their new textbook. 'Hard to get any lower than her, mate.'

'She's ruining our education,' Hermione muttered. 'All this stuff is just nonsense propaganda against non-humans or people like poor Professor Lupin. And none of it is practically useful. What happens if one of us gets attacked by a werewolf for real?'

'I guess they get eaten,' Harry mused. 'Unfortunate. Except for the werewolf, of course.'

'Your crush is staring at you,' she said.

'You better not mean Umbridge.'

Hermione snorted. 'No, I mean Greengrass.'

'Oh. Her.' Harry twisted around and met Greengrass's curious cool blue eyes with a smile. 'Yeah, she does that.'

'Maybe she likes you.'

'No, I don't think it's that.' He waved at her and chuckled as she turned away to gaze out of the window. 'See. She just stares. She doesn't want to actually talk to me or anything. She's not very talkative.'

'She's in Slytherin,' Ron muttered. 'Probably a complete bitch like Pugsy.'

'Yeah,' Harry said. 'I should go after a different blonde. Like Lav.'

Ron's neck turned red. 'Shut up, Harry.'

Hermione stabbed her quill into the inkpot and returned to her notes with a little huff of her cheeks. 'Have you read any of this?'

'No.' Harry patted his copy. 'I haven't even opened it.'

'Mate, we're like five lessons in; how have you not even opened it?'

'I just put it on the desk and ignore it like it's Malfoy.'

Hermione sighed. 'I can't even blame you; there's nothing in here. It's all just waffle about how dark creatures and their practices need to be controlled by the Ministry to make sure we all get to live in a safe, secure society, free of superstition and fear.'

'Well, it would be nice if people remembered to take their extremely important don't-eat-children potion.'

'Wolfsbane is very hard to brew,' she said. 'And some of the ingredients are expensive, but yes, really they should provide it to every werewolf instead of caging them like beasts and shunning them.'

'What about vampires?'

'I guess… blood donation?' Hermione suggested. 'From what I've read, it's more a craving than any actual need for sustenance, so they don't need loads of magical blood.' She glanced back. 'She's staring again.'

Harry shrugged. 'Just leave her to it. At least she's staring at the back of my head and not my forehead.' He added a little crown to his basilisk, drawing tines of forked tongues upon it. 'I don't know much about vampires, really. Never met one.'

'There aren't loads,' she said. 'The books I read in the library are pretty basic, but they imply that most of them fall into a deep sleep after a while and never wake up, and not many are made, because, you know, who wants to be a vampire. And magical vampires aren't like the ones in Muggle films; it's not just a matter of biting to make a new one.'

'If only Snape would fall into a deep sleep,' Ron muttered.

'But then you'd have to kiss him to wake him up, mate,' Harry said.

Hermione laughed. 'Ron's not going to get Muggle fairytale references either, Harry.'

'Still funny.'

Umbridge's heels clicked back down from the Slytherin side of the room. 'Make sure you finish taking these notes for the next lesson, children. Mr Potter, you can finish them now in your detention, but hold on. I want you to use my quill.' An ugly, hungry little gleam hung in her brown eyes.

'I told you, Harry,' Hermione hissed.

'But now we'll find out if she really is Voldemort in disguise,' he whispered back. 'We need to know, Hermione. You can't persecute all the Muggle-borns if he's already done it; it's just unoriginal.'

Hermione tidied her stuff away, chewing at her lip. 'Be careful, Harry. And don't do anything to annoy her more than you already have.'

'See you in a bit, mate,' Ron said, strolling out.

The class filtered out in pairs.

'Bye Greengrass,' Harry said under his breath as she passed.

She paused, cocking her head slightly and sending that little red crescent swinging back and forth beneath her ear, then continued on her way.

Umbridge dipped her stubby fingers into her pink handbag and pulled out a small dark case. 'Use this, Mr Potter. Keep writing until the lesson's message and the need to pay attention has sunk in…'

Harry took the black-feathered, silver-nibbed quill. 'What about ink?'

'Just write,' she snapped. 'It's enchanted not to need ink.'

He drew a light crimson scribble across the top of his page and a sharp sting cut through his right hand. The scribble sliced across his skin, lingering there for a few moments and fading from sight.

'Oh, it's some kind of creepy torture quill.' Harry let the sting sink through his skin and grinned at her. 'It's not so bad, actually. I mean, compared to basilisk venom, or the times my scar decides to pretend it's on fire, it's really barely noticeable.'

With a careful, steady hand, he drew a large smiley face and held it up to show Umbridge. 'Can I keep this quill?' Harry studied the identical smiley face carved into the back of his hand. 'Hmmm, do you think I should add eyebrows? I can never decide, sometimes it just makes them look weird, but also if you don't, there's loads of space above the eyes and it looks weird too once you notice it. Also, what happens if I draw something bigger than my hand? Does it just cover my hand anyway? Or do I only get part of it? If I draw enough stuff, would I die of blood loss and, like, wither up?'

Umbridge stared at him, the ugly hungry gleam in her eyes fading into a faintly perturbed expression. 'Give me that, Mr Potter!' She snatched the quill off him. 'Go to lunch.'

'But what about the eyebrows?' he asked. 'This is an important artistic decision, professor.'

'Get out!' she snapped, glowering at him, her flabby, flushed face twisted into a dark scowl.

Harry laughed and swept his things into his bag, swinging it over his shoulder and stepping out into the corridor.

Greengrass stood there, her cool blue eyes roving over his face and down to linger on his hand. 'You are bleeding,' she whispered.

'Don't borrow Umbridge's quill,' Harry told her. 'It might save you some sickles on ink, but it's a bit of a pain to use.' He chuckled to himself. 'Also, you're not meant to write in red, so you might lose house points.'

She took a small step toward him. 'It is healing fast.'

'Yeah—' Harry grinned as the shallow cuts faded '—it'll be gone in a few seconds.' He watched that rogue lock of blonde flutter over her slim cute nose. 'So, do you have a first name? I was going to just ask Astoria, but since you're right here…'

Greengrass tugged her eyes away from his hand. 'Daphne,' she said, soft as the whisper of settling snow. 'But you should call me Greengrass. We are not friends and I do not particularly wish to associate with you.'

'Obviously. I'm not allowed to be friends with Slytherins; Malfoy gets jealous and throws a big tantrum because I rejected him for being a twat.'

The corner of her mouth twitched, sending a warm little glow through his chest.

'But if you don't want to associate with me, what are you doing here?' He grinned. 'Or were you hoping for some private lessons with our great and knowledgeable professor?'

'She can still hear you if you talk that loud, Potter,' Greengrass replied.

'I know.' He laughed. 'But really it just makes it funnier, knowing she's probably seething away back there. And anyway, what's she going to do? Let me finish drawing my smiley face?'

Greengrass hooked the lock of blonde hair off her face with her little finger and tucked it behind her ear. 'Good day, Potter,' she said.

'Bye.' Harry waved. 'Except, I'm pretty sure we're both going that way.'

'Not together, we are not.'

'I'm sure I've not done anything to annoy you,' he mused, drifting toward the Great Hall. 'Are you just really anti-social?'

Greengrass ignored him.

'I'm taking that as a yes.'

'It is not a yes.'

'Well, it sure wasn't a no.'

She turned away, disappearing down a narrow passage between two sets of armour.

'Huh—' Harry blinked as he stepped through the bright sunlight streaming through windows outside the Great Hall '—I didn't even know there was a secret passage there. Weird that it's not on the map; I guess my dad and the others never found it.'

He headed for the Great Hall, weaving through the groups of other students, and spotted Hermione and Ron a third of the way along the Gryffindor Table near Seamus and Neville.

'I survived!' Harry dropped down in between them and stole a pork pie from Ron's plate, taking one large bite out of it and enjoying the tang of salt and pork and the thick, buttery pastry. 'I don't think Umbridge is Voldemort in disguise, either. She didn't do any gloating or monologuing.'

'She just made you finish the notes?' Seamus asked.

'Yeah, but with some creepy torture quill that cuts open the back of your hand,' he said. 'Ofsted would not approve.'

Hermione stared at him; the carrot speared on her fork slid off and dropped down the front of her shirt.

'You lost something,' Harry told her. 'I would get it for you, but I don't want to.'

Her cheeks turned a little pink as she dug it back out. 'Forget the cleavage carrot, Harry—'

'I'm trying, but it's hard.'

Seamus sniggered.

'I actually didn't mean the double entendre,' he admitted. 'Too far.'

Hermione huffed. 'Harry. Focus. What did you say about that quill?'

'Oh, when you write, it cuts open the back of your hand to get to its ink source.' Harry showed them the back of his hand, but the smiley face had faded. 'It vanishes really fast, but it stings a bit, kind of like getting stung by a wasp a lot. Greengrass saw it too, though; I swear it happened.' He grinned. 'Oh! I found out her name, because she was lingering—'

'Are you stupid?' Hermione hissed.

'Maybe sometimes…?'

Seamus studied his plate harder than he'd ever studied anything else and Ron leant back behind Harry's shoulder with an awkward, fake cough. Harry finished the rest of the pork pie with a smile as Hermione stared at him, looking rather like she was groping for the words to match the two little patches of furious colour rising on her cheeks.

'You antagonised Umbridge all lesson for no reason!' Hermione cried. 'She's a horrible woman, and now that Fudge has made her this High Inquisitor, nobody can stop her doing anything like this!'

'She got very upset when I drew the smiley face,' Harry confessed. 'I don't think she was expecting me to find it funny. But I got bitten by a basilisk; why would I break down in tears over a couple of small cuts?'

'Stop. Being. So. Reckless!' Hermione glowered at him, balling her hands up until her knuckles turned white.

Harry eyed her fists. 'Okay, but… I found out Greengrass is Daphne Greengrass. She was waiting outside the detention for me, only, apparently not to talk to me, because she really didn't want to.'

'Ron!' Hermione glared past Harry. 'Say something.'

Ron flushed. 'Mate, I mean, look, well, if Harry's not fussed, then I'm not fussed.' He quailed a little as Hermione's eyes narrowed. 'But, er, don't do it again?'

'You did a good job, Ron,' Harry whispered. 'I'll pretend I'm convinced so she doesn't kill us both.'

'Thanks, mate.' Ron shuffled a few inches away from him. 'Don't mind me, just… getting out of range of the book swing.'

'Did you know what the quill did when you drew that smiley face?' Hermione demanded.

'Yes. Of course.' He laughed. 'What would be the point if I didn't?'

A low growl escaped her.

'Wait, are you actually mad?' Harry scratched the back of his head. 'Why? It heals up really quick.'

'Just…' Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. 'At least Daphne seems to like you.'

'I don't think so. She said she doesn't want to associate with me or be my friend.'

'While waiting for you after Umbridge gave you detention. She was probably worried about you, but is scared what her friends or housemates will think about her liking you.'

'It was slightly confusing,' Harry confessed. 'But she keeps calling me Potter, so I'm going to call her Greengrass. See how she likes it.'

A long sigh escaped Hermione. 'Try pulling her pigtails while you're at it.'

'She doesn't have pigtails. She does have that one bit of blonde hair that keeps falling over her nose, though.' He considered it, that delicate, smooth lock of gold swaying and fluttering before her pale pink lips. 'I do kind of want to tug it really gently, actually, or maybe just tuck it tidily back behind her ear. That would be nice too.'

Colour climbed Hermione's cheeks. 'You have a huge crush.'

'Lies.' Harry stole a second pork pie from Ron. 'Ron, back me up.'

'Mate, get your own,' Ron said. 'Also, Hermione's definitely right. There goes Secret Project Little Sister.'

'There goes what?'

'Ron!' Hermione hissed. 'You're not supposed to mention that.'

'Well, now I want to know what it is,' Harry said. 'What is it?'

'Well—' Ron shifted, looking rather uncomfortable '—Ginny's always kind of had a bit of a crush on you, you know, especially after the whole life-saving, snake-killing thing, so she asked me to, I don't know, remind you she exists and she's not a little girl anymore. And, she's my baby sister, isn't she? So if she's going to date someone, I'd rather it was a decent bloke.'

'But she's a redhead, like my mum.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'That's just stupid.'

'It would be weird.'

'It wouldn't be that weird,' Ron reckoned.

'You're just saying that because you were trying to deviously manipulate the orphan into dating someone who looks like his dead mum,' Harry retorted. 'Think of the emotional damage you would have done if I hadn't discovered and foiled your nefarious scheme.'

Hermione buried her face in her hands. 'I give up. Ron, give me the paper; I want to read what the Prophet says about Umbridge.'

'Just says she's here to uphold the ICW's mandate for education.' Seamus waved a copy. 'Read it this morning. Always read it. Me mam says this paper's the oldest magical paper in the world; been about since Merlin was alive in the Dark Ages, she says.'

'They're just using the ICW laws as an excuse to meddle and discredit you, Harry,' Hermione said. 'If they can get everyone at school here to think badly about you, then nobody will believe Voldemort's back.'

'Well, they'll probably realise eventually; he keeps murdering people, and he's not exactly hiding the bodies,' Harry replied. 'I'd give Umbridge a Needs Improvement, which is generous, because Ofsted would definitely fire her for that quill thing. Also, her teaching is terrible; we've learnt literally nothing.'

'Less than nothing,' Hermione groused. 'And it's nearly halfway to half-term. Wait—' she sat up dead straight '—stay here. I'll be right back.'

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