AN: Oh, have I have missed writing. I apologise for the complete lack of updates. I've had a bad few months, mentally. Of course, as soon as I feel in a better place to finally write, my laptop breaks and no access to the files for Vulnerability! Just my luck, of course. But, I am back with a great new laptop, a lot more structure to my life thanks to my new job and more time to write!
I hope you enjoy this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone for the continued support.
"How on earth do they know that Sirius is in London?!" Phoenix exclaimed in a frantic whisper to the twins at breakfast the next morning. She and the twins had just overheard a handful of Ravenclaw's talking worriedly about the article in that morning's Daily Prophet that concerned Sirius' whereabouts.
"Perhaps somebody noticed him on the platform?" suggested Fred nervously, looking around him in case anybody was listening in.
"He's an unregistered Animagi, not many people know about that," Phoenix reasoned, buttering her toast and casting a look over to Hermione, Ron and Harry. "Although it's a possibility."
The trio were awaiting the arrival of their team captain and Alicia before they set off to the Quidditch stadium for their first practise of the year. Phoenix had been bursting with excitement, fractured slightly by the article about Sirius, but she pushed that article into the back of her mind. He's safe at Grimmauld Place, Phoenix told herself, he's safe.
The Slytherin Quidditch team and various other Slytherins had decided to spectate the practise, much to the Gryffindor's distaste. Among them, sat Draco Malfoy, who sneered as soon as the team made their way onto the pitch.
"What's that Weasley's riding?" Malfoy drawled, pointing at Ron and laughing pointedly. "Why would anyone put a flying charm on a mouldy old log like that?"
Phoenix gritted her teeth as Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson all laughed obnoxiously. Her hair now much darker than it had been before, she kicked off from the ground and rose into the air beside Alicia.
"If they say anything else I'll curse them" she muttered to Alicia who held back a laugh.
"Ignore them," Harry encouraged soothingly to his best friend; Ron's ears had turned a vibrant red in apparent embarrassment, "we'll see who's laughing after we play them!"
"Exactly the attitude I want, Harry," called Angelina, flying through the air with the Quaffle under her arm. She came to a halt smoothly in front of her team and surveyed them all. "Okay, everyone, we're going to start with some passes just to warm up, the whole team please–"
"Hey, Johnson!" Pansy Parkinson screeched childishly from the stands. "What's with that hairstyle, anyway? Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?"
Phoenix raised an eyebrow and shot a look of deepest loathing towards Pansy. She had to bite her tongue incredibly hard to prevent herself from spitting a remark back at Pansy.
But Angelina merely swept her hair elegantly and continued in a voice of upmost calm, "Spread out, then, and let's see what we can do..."
They spread out into a large circle, Phoenix made sure that she was facing the Slytherin's, just in case she changed her mind about jinxing them.
Angelina threw the Quaffle at Fred, who caught it easily with a smirk and sent a wink towards Angelina (the corners of whose mouth twitched). Fred quickly passed the Quaffle to George, who passed to Alicia, who passed to Ron, who missed the Quaffle by inches.
The Slytherins guffawed, Phoenix could hear Malfoy's arrogant shrieks of laughter and she shared a look with Alicia. A look which plainly told Phoenix that Alicia was making sure Phoenix hadn't pulled out her wand.
Ron sped towards the Quaffle, catching it just before it landed on the pitch. He blushed a deep scarlet as he pulled out of the drive messily, slipping sideways. Phoenix felt incredibly bad for Ron and was grateful that the twin's mouths remained shut tight.
"Pass it on, Ron," Angelina instructed, unperturbed.
Ron did as he was told and passed the Quaffle to Phoenix, who passed to Alicia, who passed to George, who made a spectacular display of catching the Quaffle, to which Phoenix rolled her eyes at.
"Hey, Potter! How's your scar feeling?" Phoenix could hear Malfoy drone. "Sure you don't need a lie down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing, that's a record for you, isn't it?"
George threw the Quaffle to Angelina, who took Harry by surprise with a reverse-pass, but he was quick on his feet and caught the ball by the tips of his fingers. Fred and George let out an appreciative whoop. Harry threw the ball to Ron, who lunged for it determinedly and just missed it.
"Come on now, Ron," Angelina called impatiently as Ron went to retrieve the Quaffle once again. "Pay attention!"
They continued tossing the ball to one another, Fred had passed to Phoenix, who reverse-passed back to George, who passed to Ron, who caught it. He seemed so surprised and thrilled by catching the Quaffle, that he threw it hard at Phoenix. The throw had been so enthusiastic that the Quaffle flew straight through Phoenix's outstretched arms and smacked her painfully in the face.
"Ah, fuck!" Phoenix swore loudly, the Quaffle falling to the floor as her face throbbed in pain.
"Sorry!" Ron called, rushing over to Phoenix, his face glowing brightly. George too flew closer to his girlfriend, inspecting her face worriedly.
"Get back in position, she's fine!" Angelina snapped. "But as you're passing to a teammate, do try not to knock her off her broom, won't you? We've got Bludgers for that!"
Phoenix held her hand over her mouth as she felt liquid trickling from her nose. Her nose was bleeding, she felt the dark scarlet blood trickling down from her chin and she groaned. She despised blood. The Slytherins were roaring with laughter at the sight of Phoenix being smacked in the face with a Quaffle.
"Can I curse them?" Phoenix called to her captain, her hair as red as the blood trickling from her nose. "Please Angelina?"
Angelina ignored her.
"Here, take this," Fred said to Phoenix, holding out a small, purple sweet that he had pulled out of his pocket.
"Nosebleed Nougat by any chance?" Phoenix asked, taking the sweet and smiling at Fred.
"It'll clear up the bleeding in no time!"
Phoenix took Fred's word for it. At least, if the sweet killed her, the Quidditch team were her witnesses.
"Fred, George, go and get your bats and a Bludger. Ron, get up to the goalposts. Harry, release the Snitch when I say so. We're going to aim for Ron's goal, obviously."
Harry and the twins did as they were told, zooming off towards the ball crate.
"Why can't I curse them?" Phoenix asked Angelina, eyeing the Slytherins who were all pointing at Phoenix and sniggering.
"Because I don't want another member of my team in detention," Angelina replied shortly. "Though I'd love for you to wipe that ugly smile of Pansy's face."
"One day, Angelina, perhaps."
The twins and Harry had returned to the air. Angelina blew her whistle, calling for Harry to release the Snitch and the twins to release the Bludgers. Phoenix sped off with Alicia and Angelina, they passed the Quaffle between them expertly. Alicia narrowly avoided the Bludger, that Fred pelted towards the Slytherins, who all ducked in panic.
Phoenix was trying with all her might to concentrate on the Quaffle, but her nose was still bleeding and the blood seemed to be pouring out much more quickly than before. She kept having to wipe her nose with her robes.
Angelina had thrown the Quaffle towards Phoenix, who had been mid-way through wiping her bloody nose again. She caught it with the tips of her fingers, wobbling dangerously on her broom.
"Easy Phoenix!" Fred shouted, whacking a Bludger that had been soaring towards her with his Beater's bat.
"Stop, stop, STOP!" Angelina roared, she was waving frantically at her team, her dark eyes focused on Ron. "Ron – you're not covering your middle post!"
Phoenix was not looking at Ron, instead she was attempting to stop the rather constant flow of blood. The sweet that Fred had given her had appeared to be making her nosebleed a lot worse, rather than helping to ease the flow.
"Oh... sorry..." Phoenix heard Ron reply sheepishly.
"You keep shifting around while you're watching the Chasers! Either stay in centre position until you have to move to defend a hoop, or else circle the hoops, but don't drift vaguely off to one side, that's how you let in the last three goals!"
"Sorry..." Ron repeated, his face as red as his hair.
"And Phoenix, can't you do something about that nosebleed?"
"You make it sound as though I like profusely bleeding out of my nose!" Phoenix shot back, she was growing angry as the Slytherins continued to jeer. 'Gryffindor are losers, Gryffindor are losers,' they were now chanting.
"Well, let's try again," called Angelina, once again throwing her hair over her shoulder.
Alicia and Angelina both shot off in the chase of the Quaffle. But Phoenix remained behind, her wand out as she was searching her mind for a spell, something to stop the constant flow of blood. But her mind was becoming hazy, her eyes felt heavy. She noticed that the few wisps of her hair in her line of vision had turned a pale white. The hands that were wrapped around the head of her broomstick were shaking, they felt as cold as ice.
Blood spattered across Phoenix's Quidditch robes as her breathing become rapid and uneven. She was silently panicking, her face as pale as snow. She wanted to signal to her team mates to stop, to help her, but she couldn't speak, she couldn't move. Her arms felt as though they were made of a heavy iron. She couldn't feel her hands, she could no longer feel the smooth wood of her broom.
Phoenix heard, through her fogged-up mind, the sound of Angelina's whistle.
She hardly registered Fred and George reaching her. She felt herself being pulled from her broom and being supported by both Fred and George. George was whispering softly in her ear as they flew towards the castle, smoothing her white hair softly. But what he was saying, Phoenix could not make head nor tail of it, because the moment that she and the twins touched the ground at the castle's entrance, she fainted.
The twins apologised profusely the moment Phoenix awoke a mere two hours later.
"What did you give me, Fred?" Phoenix croaked, taking the Blood Replenishing potion from Madam Pomfrey and drinking a hearty swig. The coldness that had enveloped Phoenix before fainting had vanished and was replaced by a sudden warmth.
Fred gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "It may have been a Blood Blisterpod–"
"Fred," Phoenix groaned. "For someone who is weirdly smart, you can be awfully stupid."
The doors of the Hospital Wing opened and Angelina, Alicia and Lee stepped in.
"Well, you're certainly looking peachier," Alicia greeted, noticing Phoenix's warm hair and her healthy complexion.
"Sorry about ruining practise," Phoenix said to Angelina, noticing her friend's rather glum expression.
"It wasn't you who ruined it," Angelina replied tartly. "It was the Slytherins and you – Fred!"
"Me?" Fred looked affronted, his brows furrowed and brown eyes appearing darker. "How exactly did I do that?"
"By giving Phoenix that sweet!" Angelina snapped.
"It was a mistake!" Fred shot back. Phoenix shared a look with George, feeling as helpless and awkward as when Lee and Alicia had argued on the Hogwarts Express. "Human error! I thought it was the other end of the Nosebleed Nougat and it would stop the bleeding–"
"Perhaps if you didn't make those stupid products in the first place–"
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"Stop it, you two!" Phoenix warned, eyeing her friends darkly. "If you don't shut up I'll jinx you. I don't want my friends arguing on my death bed."
"It's hardly your death bed Phoenix," George mused, attempting to diffuse the tension that had erupted between Fred and Angelina, "I think you're just too lazy to get out of it."
Phoenix did not know how she had managed to complete all her homework over the weekend. In between time with George, Quidditch practise, and being in the Hospital Wing, Phoenix believed it was a great accomplishment.
She sat with Angelina at breakfast on Monday morning. Phoenix noticed how Angelina looked as though she had barely slept, her eyes were rather bloodshot and she kept yawning, pouring herself about five cups of coffee in the space of fifteen minutes.
"Rough night?" Phoenix asked tentatively, as Angelina scooped not one, not two, but three teaspoons of sugar into her sixth mug of coffee.
Angelina nodded, taking a swig of coffee and swearing as the hot liquid burnt her lips, "Fred stuff," she muttered, apparently to herself.
"Are you two, okay?"
Angelina looked down at her nails hopelessly, "I don't know."
Phoenix wanted to press the subject, she was worried about her friend. She knew that Angelina loved Fred, and that Fred loved her. It pained her to see their relationship, that had been so carefree and fun during last year, becoming strained, barely two weeks into term. But as Phoenix made to reply to her friend, Lee Jordan and the twins sat down on the benches beside the two girls.
"Have you heard about our High Inquisitor?" Fred asked in amusement, helping himself to Phoenix's toast and marmalade.
"No," replied Angelina, as confused as Phoenix was at these words.
Lee thrusted a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of the girls. They leaned forward so to read the article between them.
MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM
DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED
FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR
"And I thought the Ministry could sink no lower," Phoenix mused, shaking her head before she decided to read no further, instead allowing Angelina full rein on the article. Her steaming mug of coffee still clasped in her hand, her eyes swept quickly over the article, she seemed to be muttering to herself, her frown growing deeper and deeper.
"Unbelievable!" Angelina spat, upsetting her coffee. "Shit, fuck!" The hot liquid has poured over Angelina's hand.
"What's unbelievable?" Phoenix asked, vanishing the coffee with a wave of her wand.
"The Ministry," Angelina replied, pointing to the article. "It mentions how we got Umbridge. Apparently, they passed an Educational Decree in August. Which allows for the Ministry to appoint teachers if the Headmaster is unable to provide suitable candidates."
"Percy called her an immediate success," said George in amusement, "Apparently, she has 'totally revolutionising the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts'."
"If by that you mean not teaching at all," grinned Phoenix, "then yeah, I suppose she has."
"They passed a new decree last night," Angelina explained, looking back down at the article, "Appointing her High Inquisitor, it allows for her to inspect the other teachers and make sure they're up to scratch with the Ministry's new bullshit regime."
"Lucius Malfoy is delighted of course," Fred added darkly, "Stupid git."
"So, she's inspecting the teachers, does that mean if they're not 'up to scratch' that they'll... they'll get sacked?"
"I think that is exactly what she and the Ministry are planning on doing," said Fred. "Sack all the staff and only allow 'Ministry approved' teachers in. Let us all fail while they're at it."
The seventh years did not have to wait long before Umbridge inspected one of their lessons. As they entered Charms, the unmistakeable sight of Umbridge, dressed in her horrible pink cardigan again, greeted them. Fred and George groaned loudly at the sight of her and sat down in their seats miserably.
Professor Flitwick was rather unperturbed by their visitor, greeting his students cheerily as everybody got settled and ready for their lesson.
"Today, we're going to be practising the Aguamenti charm," squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, "I assume you all have practised the movements and incantation–"
"–Shit," Phoenix heard Lee mutter from a few seats away. Evidently, Charms homework was not high on Lee's to do list.
"Today, we will be aiming to perfect your Aguamenti charms. For bonus house points, I ask for you to attempt the spell non-verbally," Phoenix turned to Alicia and smirked, Alicia had always struggled with non-verbal spells, she kept finding herself muttering under her breath. "I will now demonstrate the correct hand movements and incantation for the spell."
Flitwick pulled out his wand in a flamboyant fashion, he did a simple flick of his wrist and a burst of icy water exploded from the wands tip. The class applauded, Phoenix's eyes flickered towards Umbridge, she had just made a very clear 'tick' upon her clipboard.
"Now," Flitwick called to the class, "I want you all to gather into pairs and practise the spell... Non-verbally," Several members of the class groaned; non-verbal spells were still a rather sore spot for the seventh years.
"So, Phoenix..."
"Yes, George?" Phoenix turned, smiling at her boyfriend's voice.
"A little birdie told me you have a penchant for non-verbal spells... And I'm quite naff at them, really."
"You don't give yourself enough credit, George Weasley," Phoenix rolled up the sleeves of her robes. "You're very good at non-verbal spells but just not... consistent."
"You have always had a knack for being so... nice with words."
Phoenix smiled at George, flicking her wand with ease, a jet of icy blue water poured from her wands tip. Umbridge had just walked past, blatantly ignoring Phoenix's excellent non-verbal skills and instead concentrating on a pair of Hufflepuffs' close by.
"Surely that was worth a few house points," George hinted, his arms crossed and glaring at Umbridge.
"Mr. Weasley is right!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick. "Twenty points to Gryffindor for Miss Lancaster's superb non-verbal ability!"
Fred, who was partnered with Lee, turned and grinned at Phoenix, giving her the thumbs up.
"Miss... Snippnit?"
"Spinnet," Alicia corrected Umbridge in an overly sweet tone.
"Lovely," Umbridge replied in an equally sweet manner. "So, Miss Snippnit, what is Charms with Professor Flitwick lessons usually like?"
Alicia held back a scowl, she easily regained her composure from Umbridge's purposeful mispronunciation of her last name and replied, "Really good. We always learn new things, it's a very practical class. Practical classes where you're allowed to test the magic you've read about are–"
"Lovely."
And with the seventh year Gryffindor's all sniggering at Alicia's comments, Umbridge and her pink cardigan, left the charms classroom.
The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts would visit several of their classes over the next coming weeks. Umbridge had inspected Professor Babbling's lesson and interrogated Hufflepuff Aubriella Wheatley about Runes for half the lesson; Potions had been disrupted by Umbridge questioning Snape on whether the potions were suitable or not (Phoenix had found herself rooting for Snape in this argument) and suggested that he brew up a Ministry approved plan for his classes, to which Snape snarled; The Transfiguration inspection had been nothing short of a rollercoaster. The seventh years had watched in glee as Professor McGonagall had told Umbridge to "hold her tongue" while she was speaking and reminded Umbridge that she did not approve of others "speaking out of turn". At this, Umbridge began to scribble furiously on her pink clipboard and remained quiet throughout the rest of the lesson (though she occasionally let out a disproving tut when one of the students showcased perfect spell casting).
Despite the escapades of the High Inquisitors various inspections, Phoenix could not hide her frustration at their Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons. They had reached chapter fourteen in complete silence, Phoenix (who had already read the book) had decided to swap the books pages with a much more compelling book about defensive magic against the dark arts. She could only do so much with the knowledge however; it was not as though she could practise her Reducto spell in the common room, it would be too much chaos for the Gryffindor's to handle during lunchtime.
"Those lessons are a waste of time," Lee Jordan exclaimed as he and the other Gryffindor's sat down at their table for lunch, all seething about the useless Defence lesson that they just had to endure.
"I can't believe I'm even saying this," Alicia began, turning to the Weasley twins, her hair wild as she had been tugging at it all through the lesson, "But can I have some of those Skiving Snackboxes for the next lesson? I'll even take a Puking Pastille at this point!"
"You can have them for free, if you'd like," grinned Fred.
Alicia smiled, but stopped herself as she looked suspiciously between the twins, "Why are they free?"
George grimaced, "They need perfecting. Our testers–" he stopped when he met his girlfriend's disapproving eye, "–which are myself and Fred. Well, we eat the orange end of the sweet but we're struggling to eat the purple end with how much we find ourselves throwing up."
Angelina could not hide her revulsion, "What a lovely thing to be talking about over lunch," she mused, pushing away her bowl of soup. Fred frowned at his girlfriend; apparently, they were still at loggerheads with one another. Over the past two weeks, they would occasionally snap at one another (especially regarding Weasley Wizard Wheezes) or just simply ignore each other. Phoenix felt rather guilty by the fact that she and George were more than happy with one another, whereas Fred and Angelina appeared to be on the rocks. It also quite upset Phoenix, she didn't know what to do or how to help.
Phoenix was about to change the subject to Quidditch (something that may have helped to prevent a sly comment from either Fred or Angelina) when Hermione approached the seventh years.
"Hello," Hermione said brightly, smiling at them all warmly.
"We didn't do it," Fred and George said immediately in unison.
Hermione's smile faltered slightly but she caught herself, laughing at the twins, "Very amusing," she sat down beside Lee, "So, I couldn't help but eavesdropping on your conversation over your frustrations with our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."
"Personally, I've never been more frustrated in my life!" said Lee.
Angelina snorted, "Are you sure? You're pretty sexually frustrated."
Hermione gasped, but the seventh years all laughed at Angelina's comment.
"Nice comeback Johnson," Lee chortled. "I'm not that frustrated anymore, thanks to–"
"Not what I was hoping to talk to you all about!" Hermione interrupted, shaking her head disapprovingly. "I wanted to talk to you about Defence Against the Dark Arts!"
"What's that?" George looked at Fred wildly.
"Hermione, we don't know what that is anymore!" Fred continued, looking dumbfounded.
"All we know are the three course aims and Wilbert Slinkhard's opinions on Magical Theory," Alicia exclaimed, shaking her head. "We're going to fail our N.E.W.Ts !"
"Not all of them, Alicia," Phoenix soothed, "Just Defence Against the Dark Arts!"
A small yet knowing smile tiptoed onto Hermione's face, "Maybe not..."
If it hadn't been for Hermione's proposal of secret Defence lessons, Phoenix may have been tempted to drop the subject completely. She, like Alicia, had even asked George for some Skiving Snackboxes.
"You're not having them!" he said, his arm around her as they walked to Herbology together.
"Why not?" she groaned, her bottom lip juttering out in an attempt at a pout.
"Not going to work," George grinned, poking at her lips with his finger. "Because I'd rather not be the reason for you to be in the Hospital Wing, Pixy."
Phoenix bit her lip, she was struggling to cover up a laugh, "Bit late for that."
George rolled his eyes as they reached the Greenhouses.
"Have you been reading that book that I gave you?" George asked suddenly.
"What?" For a moment, Phoenix was caught by surprise; she had completely forgotten about George's quest to help Phoenix's memory. "Oh, I haven't yet – sorry,"
She felt guilt flood her. Of course, she wanted her memory back. Of course, she wanted to remember her mother. The issue was, could she remember? Magic had its limits. There were a thousand different ways that their attempts could go wrong and only one way that it could go right. Phoenix had her reservations, she had every right to be cautious. But the hopeful look in George's eyes pulled at her heart strings. His eagerness to help her remember her mother touched her in ways she hadn't thought possible.
But she didn't want to get her hopes up that it would all go to plan.
The look of disappointment on George's face made Phoenix wish she knew a spell that would allow for the ground to swallow her whole.
"I'm sorry George," she pulled him aside, preventing him from entering the door to Greenhouse Seven. "I honestly really, really appreciate the effort you're making. I just – it's just – it could go wrong, so wrong. I could end up completely buggering my memory and not even remember who my family are, or my friends – or you! I don't want to risk that."
"But Phoenix," he took her hands in his gently, his thumb softly rubbing against her skin, "It could work! Though it's a small chance, there's still a chance!"
Phoenix bit her lip, looking at her boyfriend, whose chestnut eyes were alight with optimism. "I'll read the book, but I won't make any promises George. I don't want to risk losing you."
"Mister Weasley! Miss Lancaster! If you two would stop canoodling, the Venomous Tentacula is waiting for attention!"
Phoenix had decided to read the book on Memory Charms book in the quiet of the library later that evening. Fred and George had decided to put on an elaborate display of their revolutionary Canary Creams and due to this, the common room's noise level was extremely distracting.
She ambled past a handful of Slytherin fifth years who all hissed at her, Phoenix responded with an elegant smile and choose a seat beside one of the large, paned windows that overlooked the Black Lake. With a loud thump (Madam Pinch coughed at the disturbance to her silent haven) Phoenix's heavy bookbag fell upon the table.
He's dedicated, she thought as the pad of her thumb skimmed through the soft pages of the book. With a jolt of excitement, she pulled out a piece of parchment, a pot of black in and her favourite quill. She set them down on the table in front of her and began to read.
Memory is a fragile thing. It's not something that can be easily tampered with. Tampering with memory is dangerous – there are many disastrous ways in which an incorrectly cast spell could go wrong.
Memory charms, for the most part, are almost permanent.
However, through time, cracks will appear in the individual's mind; flashbacks, recalling memories that had been overwritten. With these cracks, comes the opportunity of remembering.
Phoenix's eyes widened. She had experienced those flashbacks – the flashes of bright green light, the masked figures, the glaring eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange.
She had her suspicions that she was experiencing a memory charm that was slowly failing, cracking apart inside of her. If she could remember her mother's death, could she perhaps remember more? Phoenix felt her hopes soar and she had to bite back her smile. Perhaps she could finally remember her mother. Perhaps she could remember what it felt like to be loved by a mother. Perhaps she could remember what it felt like to cared for by a woman that could only be her mother.
With these appearing cracks, it is possible for memories to be restored. Memories long forgotten can be summoned, perhaps slightly more challenging than using Accio, but entirely possible.
In order to understand how to fight a memory charm, we must first understand them...
Midnight had passed by the time Phoenix had returned to Gryffindor tower. Madam Pomfrey had kicked her out of her library at exactly nine o'clock. Phoenix, still engrossed in her book, her piece of parchment now covered in notes, had taken a very large risk and made the decision to read elsewhere – somewhere that was not the Gryffindor common room. She had found refuge on top of a bucket in a broom cupboard on the first floor and had read through the chapters until tiredness burned at her eyes.
"Late night?" The Fat Lady grinned at Phoenix as she approached the portrait, yawning idly. "Your ginger haired friends still haven't returned from their late-night venture either."
Phoenix rolled her eyes, Merlin only knew what exactly Fred and George Weasley were up to. "You know the deal, you tell McGonagall you saw me, and I tell her that it was yourself and Violet who are responsible for drinking all that wine from the drawing of those Monks at Christmas."
The Fat Lady chortled, "Always a pleasure, Miss Lancaster."
Phoenix smiled lazily, "Mimbulus Mimbletonia."
The portrait swung open, revealing the portrait hole that Phoenix didn't hesitate to climb through and into the cosy Gryffindor common room.
She had arrived back so late that Rosey, the House Elf. was pattering around the common room whistling, tidying the mess that various students had left behind.
"Miss Lancaster!" Rosey squeaked, curtsying to Phoenix gracefully.
"There's no need for that Rosey," Phoenix blushed, her hair turning a light pink. "Do you need any help with cleaning? It's mostly my boyfriend's and Fred's mess that you're cleaning up!"
"Rosey does not mind cleaning," said the House Elf brightly, "Rosey really enjoys tidying the common rooms!"
"Do you do this all on your own?" Phoenix asked, looking around at the burnt remains of parchments in the fire, the books and Canary feathers that were shattered across the carpet.
"Yes Miss," Rosey said sadly. "All the other House Elves refuse to clean the Common Room!"
"How come?"
Rosey tugged at Phoenix's robes and pulled her over to one of the many tables that littered the common room. Phoenix noticed that there were various knitted... somethings left on the table. She frowned, picking one of them up and inspected it carefully. She wasn't sure what it exactly was as it was knitted poorly and was rather lopsided.
"Oh, it's a hat!" Phoenix laughed, she attempted to pull it over her head, but the hole was so large that it could have hid her entire face and neck.
"The other House Elves refuse to clean as somebody is leaving clothes for us to pick up!"
"But why would someone – oh," It appeared as though Hermione was taking S.P.E.W rather more seriously than she had last year. Apparently freeing the House Elves were the next big step. "How do you avoid picking them up then Rosey?"
"Dobby helps me!" Rosey said brightly. "He's talking to Professor Dumbledore tonight!"
"I bet Dobby collects them," Phoenix mused, placing the 'hat' back onto the table.
"Dobby does Miss!"
Phoenix was about to bid Rosey goodnight when the portrait hole opened, and two red heads emerged into the common room.
"Bloody toad!" Fred exclaimed angrily, throwing his bag into an armchair with great force. "Ministry toad!"
Rosey squeaked in fright and disappeared with a loud pop! The sound startled Fred and he pulled out his wand instinctively, aiming it towards a smirking Phoenix.
"What's got your wand in a knot?" she asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.
"Why are you up so late?" Fred asked roughly, "and where were you tonight?"
Phoenix did not like Fred's tone. It was very apparent he was stressed, angry, perhaps even fed up – Phoenix understood this, but whatever Fred was currently feeling, did not given him an excuse to talk to her like that.
"Sorry," she laughed, "I didn't realise I had to report to you, Fred."
Fred looked shocked, even George stared at Phoenix with wide eyes. Fred's adverted his eyes away from Phoenix's dark blue eyes, his demeaner immediately shrinking.
"Not you too Phoenix," he groaned, running his hands through his hair and over his face. "First, Angelina doesn't want anything to do with me and now, you!"
Phoenix opened her mouth to shoot a comment back, but she caught George's eye. He was shaking his head and indicating wildly for her to hold her mouth. Something was wrong.
"I'm sorry Fred," she said instantly. Her eyes turning to their soft, oceanic blue. She approached Fred cautiously, looking worriedly at George as she did so. Fred looked up as Phoenix placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. She noticed just how red his eyes were. "What's wrong Fred?"
Fred sighed, he sat down in the armchair that he had thrown his bag on, his head in his hands, "Take a guess."
Phoenix didn't want to guess, but she feared the worst.
"Angelina...?"
"Broke up with me, yes."
"Oh, Fred..."
Phoenix felt her heart break into a million pieces. Her heart broke for Fred Weasley as he sniffed in the armchair beside the fireplace. She felt guilty – the one night she had not been there. Perhaps if she had been there, she could have done something, she could have helped. She could have talked to Angelina, reasoned with her. But most of all, she felt guilty that she had not been there for Fred Weasley when he had most needed her.
"I'm so sorry Fred," Phoenix consoled softly, her hand rubbing Fred's shoulder.
"It's not your fault Phoenix," George reassured her, speaking for the first time since the twins had entered the common room.
"How did it–"
"–Blame our 'stupid joke shop'," Fred spat bitterly, his brows furrowed. "Dumped me in front of the whole of Gryffindor over a few joke products she didn't agree with."
"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Fred," Phoenix whispered, her hair turning a pale blonde as guilt flooded through her body. "I'm so sorry."
Fred smiled sadly, he reached his hand to Phoenix's hand and squeezed it softly, "You're here now Nix, that's all that matters."
"I assume that Angelina wasn't the Ministry toad that you were shouting about?" Phoenix asked carefully, looking from Fred to her boyfriend.
George laughed, "Of course not!"
"After the... incident... myself and George decided the best thing to do was a late night Quidditch session," Fred explained, leaning back into the armchair, before realising his bag was digging into him and throwing it carelessly on the floor. "Everything was going soothingly..."
"But?"
"But then Umbridge caught us," said George.
"Oh shit," Phoenix gasped. "How did you get out of that one?"
"We didn't," Fred said darkly. He extended his left hand for Phoenix to inspect.
She eyed Fred's hand with confusion for a few moments. But then, as she registered what exactly Fred was trying to show her, Phoenix's insides coiled with anger. Her hair and eyes turned blood red as she was overcome with such rage, such hatred for Dolores Umbridge. She turned to George and grabbed his hands; on George's right hand (and on Fred's left) were the words "I will amount to nothing". Blood was still dripping from the curves of the letters. The skin around the cut was throbbing, red and sore.
"She did this to you?" Phoenix seethed, her eyes darting from Fred to George. She was seeing red. Anger pulsed through her veins as she held George's cut hand. How dare Umbridge scar Fred and George like this. How dare she does this to her students!
"Well, she made us use these quills, she didn't give us any ink," George explained, reaching for his girlfriend's back and rubbing it soothingly. "When we started writing, it came out red."
"And our hands were on fire, they were stinging."
"She used Blood Quills," Phoenix grimaced, her hands curling. "She made you write those... those fucking words in your own blood?"
Fred and George looked at one another before nodding.
"She'll pay," Phoenix seethed, she was almost shaking with fury. "She'll pay for making you do that!"
"And I know a perfect way to do just that,"
Fred, George and Phoenix all jumped at the sound of Harry Potter's voice from behind them all. Harry stood at the door to the boy's dormitory in his pyjamas, glasses lopsided as though he had apparently put them on in a hurry.
"Come to the Hogs Head on the first Hogsmeade trip. We can show Umbridge exactly who that she decided to mess with."