| Inked | (George Weasley)

Chapter One Hundred Four

A shiver rolled down her spine, recalling the look of disgust Umbridge gave Olive when the professor noticed her long-healed scratches poking through her collar.

I don't want to see those scars again.

"It's because of what happened last year..." George ran a hand through his hair, "Olls... what are you going to do?"

"Honestly, I don't know." The Ravenclaw was obviously shaken up and upset about what happened, "I can't just get detention every day, and I can't practically hang myself every class to please her. It's ridiculous."

They sat in silence for a while. Olive looped her fingers through George's, staring down at the garnet comforter draped over his bed. She was completely stuck, not wanting to please Umbridge yet not wanting to be punished for something she couldn't exactly help.

And she wasn't about to let herself fall into that dark hole of thinking that Umbridge was right either.

Olive wasn't going to spent her last year at Hogwarts letting Umbridge make her life miserable. Two years ago she might have, but not today. If only a few positives came out of spending the entire summer cooped up in 12 Grimmauld Place, then one of them was definitely going to be the level of spite she developed by constantly being surrounded by Gryffindors.

"We need..." Olive trailed off, "No, that's a stupid idea."

Her eyes glinted with mischief, but the frown she had spread on her face for the last half hour was still present.

"Olls?" George couldn't help but smile, "You have that look on your face. What is it?"

"What look?"

"The my name is Olive and I'm up to no good look."

"I have a look for that?"

"Well yeah." George did his best to mimic Olive's look, "It's this."

He scrunched up his brows and tried to replicate that little smirk Olive always gave him when she had a terribly clever and reckless idea. She couldn't help but try and suppress the snort of laughter that shot up through her lips, shoving him back playfully.

"George, that's definitely not it."

He got up, throwing his hands on his hips, "You're evading the real question, here, Ollie. You have a brilliant idea on how to get back at Umbridge, right? Spill."

"Well, it's not exactly a fully fledged idea." Olive shrugged, thinking of the small shred of justice she felt while musing the idea, "More like... more like a concept?"

George sat back down and nodded, asking her to continue.

"Well... I just think that she should have a taste of her own medicine is all." Olive sighed, "I want to... get back at her. It sounds so crazy, I know, but-"

She nearly leapt back in surprise at George cupping her face with his hands as he pulled her in for a forehead kiss.

"No, not crazy." He shook his head, "Brilliant.  Olls, I love y-"

Before George could stop himself and before Olive's eyes could widen any more, Ron opened the door to find the couple staring at each other in bewilderment.

"Hey-" Ron quirked his brow, "Did I?"

"No." Both Olive and George said suddenly, at the same time.

"Not at all." Olive practically stammered, frozen on George's bed, staring at him as he got up to greet Ron.

"What's... what's up, mate?" George cleared his throat, something he did when he was particularly nervous.