Part One / Chapter Fourteen
Thursday passed in a haze of tiredness.
Ron seemed very sleepy too, Venus had caught him sneaking back into the common room last night just after midnight. He lied his way past her and disappeared into the boys dormitory before she could keep asking questions.
Venus' third and final detention passed in the same way as the previous two, except that after two hours the words "I must respect my superiors" did not fade from the back of her hand, but remained scratched there, oozing droplets of blood.
The pause in the pointed quill's scratching made Professor Umbridge look up. "Ah," she said softly, moving around the desks to examine their hands herself. "Good. That ought to serve as a reminder to you, oughtn't it? You may leave for tonight. This is your final detention, Ms. Rosario. I hope you don't get yourself another one, the consequences might be . . . altered."
Umbridge said it like she was hoping Venus was act out again and get herself a detention. But endure something much worse than blood quills.
"Do I still have to come back tomorrow?" said Harry, picking up his schoolbag with his left hand rather than his right.
"Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge, smiling widely as before. "Yes, I think we can etch the message a little deeper with another evening's work."
"She's vile." Harry said letting his robes cover his bleeding hand. He looked over to Venus who hadn't responded
"The way she talked to me, it sounded like she wanted me to get another detention. So she could do it all over again, maybe something worse," said Venus horrifyingly, shivering slightly.
"I wouldn't be surprised," Harry muttered.
He pronounced 'Mimbulus mimbletonia' and scrambled into the common room. He didn't look back at Venus. All Venus could think about was how the woman was disgustingly twisted, vile, nasty—Venus noticed something shuffle at the edge of the corridor, bright red hair visible from where she stood.
"Ron?" She had reached the top of the stairs almost walking into Ron, who was lurking behind a statue of Lachlan the Lanky, clutching his broomstick. He gave a great leap of surprise when he saw Venus and attempted to hide his Cleansweep Eleven behind his back. "What are you doing, Ron?"
"Er — nothing. What are you doing?"
Venus frowned at him. "Come on, you can tell me! What are you hiding here for?"
"I'm — I'm hiding from Fred and George, if you must know," said Ron. "They just went past with a bunch of first years, I bet they're testing stuff on them again, I mean, they can't do it in the common room now, can they, not with Hermione keeping watch for you there." He was talking in a very fast, feverish way. His ears redder than a ripe tomato plant.
"But what have you got your broom for, you haven't been flying, have you?" Venus asked. "You can't fly inside the castle."
"I — well — well, okay, I'll tell you, but don't laugh, all right?" Ron said defensively, turning redder with every second. "I-I thought I'd try out for Gryffindor Keeper now I've got a decent broom. There. Go on. Laugh."
"I'm not laughing," said Venus. Ron blinked. "It's a great idea! Harry'd like you playing alongside him. I've never seen you play Keeper, are you good?"
"I'm not bad," said Ron, who looked immensely relieved at Venus' reaction. "My brothers always made me Keep for them when they were training during the holidays."
"So you've been practicing tonight?"
"Every evening since Tuesday . . . just on my own, though, I've been trying to bewitch Quaffles to fly at me, but it hasn't been easy and I don't know how much use it'll be." Ron looked nervous and anxious. "Fred and George are going to laugh themselves stupid when I turn up for the tryouts. They haven't stopped taking the mickey out of me since I got made a prefect."
"Not if I'm there," said Venus assuringly, as they set off together toward the common room. "Today was my last night of detention, I could help you practice properly."
"Really, that would be amazing— Venus, what's that on the back of your hand?"
Venus, who had just grabbed Ron's Cleansweep with his free left hand, tried to hide it, but had as much success as Ron with his broomstick. "It's just a cut — it's nothing — it's —"But Ron had grabbed her forearm and pulled the back of Venus' hand up level with his eyes.
There was a pause, during which he stared at the words carved into the skin, then he released her, looking sick. "I thought you two said she was giving you guys lines?"
She hesitated, but after all, Ron had been honest with her, so he told Ron the truth about the hours her and Harry had been spending in Umbridge's office.
"The old hag!" Ron said in a revolted whisper as they came to a halt in front of the Fat Lady, who was dozing peacefully with her head against her frame. "She's sick! Go to McGonagall, say something!"
"No," said Venus at once. "She threatened me with a worse detention if I said anything, she knows something about me, Ron. About my Mum. I can't risk it."
"You can't let her get away with this!" he exclaimed infuriately. "Harry hadn't said anything either, can't believe she laid her grimy little gnome fingers on my best friend." She said in the same fast tone he had earlier.
"It'll figure itself out Ron," she said sending him a small smile, "And I reckon we start having proper practices, starting now."
"But you haven't got a broom."
"Prefect privileges, Ron, Prefect privileges," she grinned, opening a broom closet with stacks of brooms inside. Venus picked one up and held it under her arm. "Are you ready?" She said unclipping the barrette holding her hair up, her curls ambushing the sides of her face.
"Wow, I've never seen your hair out before," he said pulling a curl, letting it go and watching it spiral back into its shape, "you have really pretty hair."
"Will you stop petting me like a lion before I change mind?" she said smacking Ron's hand away. They both walked down the hall and out toward the Quidditch fields.
Harry opened the portrait hole watching them disappear, they were close enough to see Ron and Venus laughing, smiling, shoulders slightly brushing each other's. Did Ron just call Venus pretty? he thought. Flustered, he looked away from the pair and shut the portrait again. He was too late. He headed back to his dormitory, tossing an orange rose and an apology note in the bin before sinking into his bed.
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【 AUTHORS NOTE! 】:
Harry. It isn't what it looks like I swear.