Heather floated weightlessly in nothingness. Her mind was blessedly blank for once. She wasn't sure what she was doing, or even where she was. On that threshold between unconsciousness and wakefulness, she savoured the absolute state of relaxation. When was the last time she had felt so rested?
A sharp bolt of electricity shot through her senses, overwhelming her until she had no choice but to surface. She reluctantly let go of the darkness, lifting her heavy eyelids. Now that she was halfway awake, she could feel that the unpleasant sensation started from her neck and spread outward to her limbs. Grimacing, she instinctively sat up and summoned her wand. Without even taking note of her surroundings, she moved her wand in a circular motion, chanting, "Amato Animo Animato Animagus," as she had done every morning for the past few months. That done, she gave a lazy flick to cancel the charm causing the lightning bolts of shock and flopped back onto the bed.
She had set the alarm spell on her necklace a few weeks ago, worried that she would be too tired to wake before sunrise every morning to chant the animagus spell. Wouldn't want months of effort to be wasted in a moment of fatigue.
Speaking of which, she stifled a yawn. Her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness of the room. To her shock, she wasn't in her dorm room. Her gaze darted about. She realised that she was in the infirmary. What happened? She wracked her brain for an answer, cursing her drowsiness for slowing her mind.
Just then, the door opened, drawing her attention. Who could that be at this early hour? She had set her alarm for an hour before sunrise. Madam Pomfrey, perhaps? She quickly sat up again, not wanting to be in such a vulnerable position in the presence of a possible stranger.
Once she recognised the visitor, she relaxed.
"What do you think you are doing Potter?" the deep voice demanded. They both looked at the wand held in her hand.
She chuckled sheepishly. "Nothing?" she lilted. She quickly put her wand away. "You're up early, Professor Snape."
The man narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "That had better not been you trying to cast spells after fainting from exhaustion you foolish girl."
"What?" she exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise. "Fainting from exhaustion?"
"Do you not remember what happened yesterday morning?" His voice held a tinge of worry, though she was sure he would sooner hug Sirius than admit it.
Heather tilted her head thoughtfully. Yesterday morning... The last she recalled was arguing with Hadrian in the Great Hall, then going for Potions class... She gasped. The Erumpent Potion. Putting the powdered horn too early. Groaning, she buried her head in her hands. What a dumb mistake! "You idiot," she muttered under her breath. Snapping her head back up, she asked, "Was anyone hurt? I think I tried to put up a shield..." If anyone had gotten injured because of her, she would never forgive herself.
Professor Snape scowled, saying, "You were able to erect the shield in time, fortunately." He made a disgusted sound. "I did not think I would need to tell you this, but from your recent actions, I believe I shall have to. What you did was extremely irresponsible, you reckless, dunderheaded brat! What you did today could have killed everyone in the room! I would ask what you were thinking, but it is clear that you were not!"
Heather looked down in shame, accepting the scolding. She knew she was to blame. Guilt ate at her. Erumpent horn was notoriously explosive. If she had been just a millisecond slower... She shuddered to think of the consequences.
"Well? An explanation for your idiocy is the least you could provide, after that disaster." She could hear the scorn in his words. She fought the urge to cringe.
She wished she could give him a good reason, at least, but she found none. "I tried to do too much in too little time. Fred and George and Hadrian tried to tell me to rest more, but I wouldn't listen. This is all my fault."
"Yes, it was." That statement was said so casually, so matter-of-factly that this time she didcringe.
"I know." She finally looked up. She still felt ashamed, but she had to look him in the eye for this. "I am very sorry for what I did, Professor. I endangered everyone because I recklessly thought I could brew even when I was fighting exhaustion and about to collapse. I accept any punishment that you deem fit." She bowed her head in apology and clenched her fingers in the starched bedsheets.
There was a drawn-out moment of silence after she spoke, in which she was pushed down the urge to fidget nervously. The Potions Master was obviously furious with her. Every good potioneer knew the dangers of brewing when not in full possession of their mental faculties. In fact, that had been one of his very first lectures in first year.
She heard him sigh in irritation. "Look up, you imbecilic girl." Meekly, she lifted her head. "Are you certain you are not facing any problems? It has been brought to my attention that you have not been in the best of conditions as of late. Even theGryffindorshave noticed. I know for a fact that you have been employing the use of a glamour to hide your exhaustion."
Stunned, Heather looked closer at the man. The set of his mouth gave off a distinctly awkward air. He was actually frettingover her. Despite herself, warmth filled her chest at the thought, causing her to smile.
"What are you smiling at!" he growled. Oops.
"Nothing, sir," she replied, covering her mouth with a hand when her attempt to school her expression failed. Her lips weren't obeying her. "I really wasjust overworking myself. Don't worry, it wasn't nightmares that were keeping me awake." Her nightmares were few and far between, now that she had more or less mastered Occlumency.
He scrutinised her closely with his penetrating gaze, as if to catch her out on a lie. If she didn't know any better, she would think he was Legilimising her. But, no, her shields were holding firm. Still, the gaze felt like a physical caress, so heavy it was. Through no conscious effort on her part, she leaned forward towards him. The atmosphere felt strange, with both of them so close in the dimly-lit room. And when had he moved so near?
The moment was shattered when the Professor abruptly cleared his throat and stepped backward almost hastily. Oddly enough, she felt let down by the sudden distance.
"Well," the Professor said. His voice had, for some reason, taken a slightly hoarser rasp. It drew her out of her musings. "I expect that this will not be repeated?"
Heather shook her head emphatically. "Never again, sir. I've learnt my lesson." And what a hard lesson it was.
"See to it," he ordered curtly. With a final nod in her direction, he swept out of the room. She might have just been imagining things, but it seemed like he was in a hurry.
~~~
When Heather opened her eyes next, it was to bright rays of light. She absentmindedly cast aTempus, noting that it was breakfast time. She wondered if Madam Pomfrey would let her attend classes today. She had spent almost 20 hours out cold, after all. She reckoned that she had had enough rest in that time. In fact, she felt better than she had in weeks. Her mind was clearer and she didn't feel like she would nod off at any given moment. She had truly been such an idiot, putting off rest for so long.
Just then, the Mediwitch came out of her office door. "Ahh, good you're awake." She approached her, casting a general diagnostic. Nodding grimly at whatever results she had gotten, Madam Pomfrey shot a chiding look at Heather.
Heather shrunk back into the bedding, preparing herself for the dressing-down that was sure to follow. True enough, the matron tore her a new one for not taking better care of herself and being generally foolish and idiotic. It wasn't anything that she hadn't told herself since waking from her semi-coma, but the older witch just had a flair for saying things in a way that made someone feel a hundred times smaller.
"I've a good mind to keep you in here just to sleep for another week!" Madam Pomfrey said to cap off her rant.
Widening her eyes pleadingly, Heather said, "I'm sorry! I'll make sure to rest enough from now on! I promise! I'm really feeling much better now. Can you pleasedischarge me? I haveto attend classes, NEWT year, you know?" She even tilted her head apologetically for good measure.
The woman just sighed, shaking her head. "Fine! Goddess knows you'll be insufferable otherwise. But you will have breakfast here so I can make sure you eat properly!"
Heather cheered, accepting the condition. She hadn't expected to make it for breakfast in the Great Hall anyway. As she dug into her wholesome and Mediwitch-approved breakfast of oatmeal and yogurt, the infirmary door opened to admit several people. Curiously, she looked up.
Then immediately shut the curtains around her bed.
"Heaatheerr," twin voices chimed mockingly. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"
"Olly olly oxen free," she muttered lowly.
The curtains were drawn back. Damn, must have been Hadrian that broke her abrupt wandless locking charm.
"Looks like sleeping beauty's finally up, Forge!"
"Do you think it was her Prince that did it with a kiss, Gred?"
As one of the few who knew who the Half-Blood Prince was, her brother looked distinctly unamused at the implication. Heather herself was battling a blush at that.
"How are you feeling, Heather?" Hermione asked, ignoring the others.
"All better now. Madam Pomfrey said I could leave after breakfast." She pointedly put a spoonful of mushy oats into her mouth.
"Are you sure?" Hadrian asked worriedly. "You were only in here for a day. Maybe you should take it easy."
"I'm fine, Rian," she assured him. "I was asleep for the past 20 hours. Pretty sure I'm all rested. Besides, do you think Madam Pomfrey would let me step out of her infirmary even the slightest bit unwell?"
Looking at all the people in this room that were concerned for her, she felt another spasm of guilt. She had been such an idiot.
"Fred, George, Hadrian. I'm really sorry for what I said to you three before. You guys were right. I was running myself into the ground. I should have listened to you." Heather looked down at the dregs of her oatmeal, fiddling with her spoon.
A hand on her shoulder had her looking up into similar-yet-different green eyes. She peered to the side where her two best friends were smiling faintly.
Gently, her brother said, "Apology accepted, Heather." Then his tone changed drastically, "Just know that if you pull this stunt again, you won't be let off that easy." The hand on her shoulder squeezed threateningly the let go when she nodded quickly.
Then, Fred and George stepped forward. She braced herself for another admonishment.
"We just-"
"-wanna say-"
"-WE TOLD YOU SO!" they shouted together. She jerked back at the sudden volume.
"Fred and George Weasley!" Madam Pomfrey rebuked from inside her office.
"Sorry Madam Pomfrey," they chimed insincerely.
Heather had a hand resting over her pounding heart. She had notexpected the two to shove their faces up close and shout. Shaking her head, she smiled wryly to herself. That was the least she deserved for being such a troll to them.
She looked up and caught their gazes, asking a question with her eyes.
'Are we okay?'
Heather smiled and ducked her head, grateful for the answer she found in the blue depths.
'You won't get rid of us that easy.'
It was later that she found out that news of the incident had spread to the whole school. True to form, the story had gotten wilder with every pass by word-of-mouth. Everyone and their crup were talking about it. Wild theories of the incident ranged from it being the work of a jealous classmate to a murder attempt by Professor Snape.
Heather also made it a point to apologise to each of her classmates. Thankfully, none of them held any grudges over the incident. Tabitha Flickwish of Hufflepuff had even said that her accident had made them even more careful of their own potion. To which the rest then thanked Heather for their O grade for that day. That was one silver lining, she supposed.
At any rate, she was just glad that she had gotten off so easy. She had expected a few months' detention from Professor Snape for her stunt. Not that she would have begrudged him that. She knew well how much she deserved it. She was just lucky that the Professor had such a soft spot for Slytherins.
Oddly, Hadrian had snorted loudly when she'd said that.
~~~
However, it appeared that the capricious Potter luck had turned around once again.
Heather had been escorting her usual group of Slytherins to a DA meeting when a tiny mishap with a startled second year and a misfired Relashiocaused them to be behind schedule. Ahh, her little wand-happy students... Not exactly helpful in this particular scenario, but she was soproud.
Anyway, now their lateness resulted in them almost running headfirst into a patrolling teacher. And not just anyteacher, but the toady Umbitch herself. It was only her magic-sensing skills that saved them from turning the corner and right into the pest's line of sight.
Heather had to think fast. There was only her and a bunch of first years in the group (the other seventh years had gone on ahead with their own handful of students). She quickly cast a disillusionment over the kids, whispering for them to go ahead when she gave the signal.
Well, here went nothing.
She ran out, smacking right into Umbitch. She shuddered inwardly, hoping her ducklings knew the sacrifice she had just given to save them. She felt gross after just that brief moment of contact with the detestable woman.
Heather wandlessly cast a Notice-Me-Now charm on herself. It was actually what the modern Notice-Me-Not had been derived from, though it had fallen out of use in preference of the more useful variation. People used to cast the Notice-Me-Now on a large object in the area so that passers-by would be so absorbed in it that they wouldn't notice the casters themselves. She was now using it in conjunction with the disillusionment as insurance that her little firsties wouldn't be caught.
Her quick hand gesture for the spell had been noted by students. They quietly snuck around Umbitch as Heather distracted her. Thank Merlin they were snakes and not lions, or they'd probably have tried to make a run for it – and wake the whole castle in the process.
Well, she wasn't much worried about them right now. Even if they didget caught after this, any other teacher would probably just send them back to bed without much more than a slap to the wrist.
"Miss Potter!" Umbitch's shrill voice shrieked.
"Professor Umbi-bridge!" Heather stuttered, catching herself. Lucky for her it would probably be interpreted as anxiousness at being caught. Though she was eager to find out how the toad would react if she hadn'trestrained her tongue.
Well, looked like she wouldn't be escaping detention after all.
~~~
Fred and George congratulated her for 'finally coming to the Dark side' the next morning, having heard the story from her ducklings. This, of course, prompted many a terrified look from people nearby. (Really, some of them were just idiots.) They had somehow gotten the elves to make her a cake that said 'Baby's First Detention' in white frosting.
Right now, Heather was headed for her first detention with the horrid woman. She was actually pretty curious about how it would go. From the stories she had heard from Hadrian and her friends over the years, it could range from writing lines to scrubbing cauldrons. She wondered which Umbitch would employ as punishment.
"Heather!" A hand grabbed her arm and turned her around. She found herself looking at the flushed and panicked face of her brother.
"Hadrian?" she asked, alarmed, "What's the matter?"
"Is it true that you've detention with Umbridge?"
"Yes?" She watched, worried, as Hadrian's complexion abruptly paled. "Are you okay?" She put a hand on his forehead, unlikely as it was that he had a fever. She couldn't ever recall an instance of him getting sick before. It was pretty well-established that magical power was proportional to the body's immunity against illnesses.
"I'm fine, it's just..." Hadrian trailed off. He bit his lip savagely, clearly hesitant to speak. "Just don't go, alright? Skip the detention."
Heather huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, right. I can't just not go. The High Inquisitor," she sneered, "demanded my presence. Anyway, don't worry about me. Look, I've got to go or I'll be late. See you later!"
"But-"
Heather went off before he could continue. The conversation had really delayed her. Now she had to run a bit so that she could arrive on time. It was cute that Rian was trying to protect her, but, really, his intentions were misplaced. Sure, this was going to be her first detention, but the only thing she was at risk of was probably a cramp in her hand from writing too many lines.
If only she knew how right that statement was.
~~~
"Come in, dear."
Heather hid her distaste at the sugary-sweet voice that bade her entry. Her resolve was sorely tested when the sight of Umbridge's office assaulted her poor retinas. This was the first time she had entered her office, and she was already sick of it. The amount of pink in the room had to be illegal somewhere. She fixed her gaze on the brown desk in the centre of the room to save her own sanity.
"Ahh, Miss Potter. Good to see that, unlike your brother, you understand the meaning of punctuality." The woman smiled sharply, eyes flashing with superiority.
Fuming inwardly, Heather nonetheless ignored the obvious baiting and stood silently. Once Umbridge had realised that she would not be so easy to taunt, she narrowed her eyes.
"Sit! You will be writing lines."
Heather wordlessly glided into the chair, for all the world seeming totally unbothered. The toad-like witch seemed to take offence to that, gritting her teeth in anger. A few moments later, however, she smirked smugly.
"You will write'I must not sneak around like a little thief'," Umbridge said with relish, seeming satisfied by her own wit.
With effort, Heather contained her eyeroll and reached into her satchel for a quill and ink. Parchment had already been provided on the desk.
Loud tutting halted her movements. "Ah ah. You will use this quill." Umbridge handed her a plain black quill.
"And what about ink?" Heather asked. The distinct lack of 'Professor' seemed to go by unnoticed. Good, she didn't want to be forced to address the foul woman respectfully any more than she had to.
"You won't be needing it."
That set alarms ringing in her mind. She wasn't sure what was wrong, but she would look out for it. Taking the quill, she almost jolted at the slimy sensation that creeped up her arm from the point of contact. There was something sinister about the quill. It practically shrieked bad newsto someone like her who was more sensitive to magic than the average person.
Maintaining her cool, she asked, "How many lines should I write?"
"Oh, as many times as it takes for the message to be...embedded." The cruel tittering that accompanied that sent shivers down Heather's spine. Not that she was afraid of Umbridge, of all people. It was just nauseating to hear.
Well, there was nothing for it. Heather wanted to see what this was all about. Fighting her revulsion, she held the quill and began to write. She didn't need to be looking to see that Umbridge was staring at her in anticipation.
I must...
The words came out in bright crimson. A tingling sensation started on the back of her hand. Almost unnoticeable, if she hadn't been waiting for it.
...not sneak...
It grew into an itch, just this side of annoying. So that was it? Just a mild Irritant Hex? That didn't make sense. The magic in the quill felt much darker than that.
...around like a...
The feeling got stronger still.
...little thief.
Suddenly, pain seared her hand, though she continued unwaveringly. She took care not to show any discomfort. Another completed line later, scratches began to form on her skin. An inkling of what might be happening came to her. A few more lines later, her suspicion was confirmed when the scratches formed words. Very familiar words.
I must not sneak around like a little thief.
The pain had steadily grown more intense with each passing scritch of the nib. Now, it felt like the quill was carving out the words into her flesh itself. It explained why the words were written in red, then. Of course, she didn't let the pain show in her face. She had felt much worse before, after all.
All of a sudden, it hit her.
This was why Hadrian had been so worried. He had had countless detentions with Umbridge. If this was what she did every session, then Hadrian must have suffered through this pain numerous times. Not to mention all the blood loss. She ran through her memories of the past few months, remembering how pale and tired Hadrian had been. Her mind rapidly connected the dots.
The Blood Replenisher Hermione had asked for.
All those phials of Murtlap Essence that had been requested.
How could she have been so blind! Fury built up steadily within her. Hadrianhad gone through this. There had been first yearsamong those affected.
Her head shot up as she speared the disgusting excuse for a witch with an outraged glare. She was pleased to see the toad flinch back a bit before attempting a smirk.
She had been mildly irked when she felt the effects of the quill, but realising that young children, her brother,had been subject to the device was a different game altogether. No one harmed her brother. Not if they wanted to go unscathed.
Her grip on the quill turned unforgiving, almost threatening to snap it in two. But, no. She didn't put it past Umbitch to have several more stored for such cases. As much as she wanted to just torture the disgusting toad now, she knew that revenge was a dish best served cold. Besides, that was what Gryffindors did. She was a Slytherin. She already had an idea to get back at the wretch for her sins.
Heather was going to use the bitch's own quill against her.