Blair's next Defence Against the Dark Arts class was where everything turned sour at Hogwarts. Apparently, Professor Umbridge had been using Blood Quills for her many detentions she had dished out. These quills used the user's blood as its ink, scratching the exact words that are written into the back of the user's hand. And because it wasn't the Middle Ages anymore and people actually liked their children, this didn't settle well with the other teachers. Professor McGonagall had been the one to confront Umbridge in the middle of the grand staircase at breakfast time one morning, crying that such a punishment is not worthy for any situation.

This led to Professor Umbridge becoming what she called the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts. An official decree was hammered into the wall above the arches of the Great Hall's entrance, stating that Cornelius Fudge had signed off on this action and that Professor Umbridge was to report on the other teacher's teaching methods in their classrooms. You couldn't step into a class and not see the pink toad that sat with her clipboard at the back of the room. She would even interrupt lessons with her ridiculous 'hem hem' and inquire about certain things that were in the curriculum. Professor Trelawney and Professor Flitwick had been her targets lately.

But most of her antics hadn't really affected Blair yet. She hadn't heard about anyone of her friends who had been given a detention with the use of the Blood Quills (Harry had kept his a secret from those who hadn't already seen it). And she usually was either too immersed in her school work or being pestered by George for attention to take any notice of Umbridge's annoying questions. That was until her double period on Wednesday of Umbridge's class.

"Miss?" George broke the thick silence in the classroom. They had been set to read their pointless textbooks on basic defence spells that wouldn't even block a flubberworm from attacking you. George hadn't been reading at all and had spent most of the hour picking at the strands that hung from his jumper sleeve.

"Do you have a question about the chapter, Mr Weasley?" Umbridge questioned when she saw his hand in the air. She had resisted the urge to let her irritation to show from the interruption from one of the two people she had been getting the hardest of times from. She knew the Weasley twins well and knew they were always up to no good.

"Yeah, I do actually," he answered and everyone looked up from their books, turning their gazes to him in shock. Never had George Weasley asked a question that was actually relevant to the class work. It was always a sarcastic comment on how good the Professor's hair looked that day or about her outfit choice. Even Blair turned to her left to look at her boyfriend who held an emotionless face next to her.

Professor Umbridge's shoulders straightened and tried not to appear as shocked as the rest of the class. She gathered her posh manner and shot a look to the class that stared at her, forcing them to continue reading their books. As she stood down from the raised floor and started to make her way down the isle of desks, students peaked their eyes over their arms to watch her stop next to Blair and George's desk.

"What would you like to ask, Mr Weasley?" the woman said as she looked over Blair, who appeared to be reading but was shifting her eyes in George's direction asking what in the world he was planning to do.

George's blank expression morphed into another that made Blair's stomach drop to her knees. She knew the look well enough from her time of knowing George and it meant nothing pleasant. It was the look that was seen moments before disaster and Blair feared for both his and Umbridge's life that was bound to be threatened in some way or another.

The scream that echoed throughout the room made students drop their textbooks that were sitting upright on their desks. Professor Umbridge stumbled backwards from the table and into Fred who had been sitting just behind her. Fred cringed like he had just been touched by the vilest thing in the world and jerked into Lee's direction, trying to get away from the woman to the best of his abilities. The Professor quickly stood up straight and put her hand to her eye, covering the bruise that was already beginning to form in her socket. Her immaculate fingers shook as a tiny whimper left her mouth, trembling in what everyone thought was shock. But it was anger. Anger like nothing she had felt before.

"The Boxing Telescope! Now reaches up to three metres away from you! Pre-order yours from my brother and I!" George cheered to the class as he held the long cylinder up that had a small boxing glove hanging out from the end. Whether he was expecting a great applause, he didn't falter when the class continued to stare at him in complete shock.

Blair had watched Umbridge explode and scream at George to leave her classroom immediately, sending him to Professor McGonagall with a week's worth of detention starting tonight. He had done so with the bright smile still on his face and even exchanged a look with Fred, who gave him two thumbs up. Professor Umbridge dismissed the class early and hurried off towards the hospital wing, keeping her stubby hand over her eye.

Since she had Quidditch practice that night, Blair wasn't able to see George until ten o'clock that night. She also had patrolling to do, so she ventured the halls with her badge displaced over her breast towards the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady swung open and let her through, revealing the common room that was empty besides the two redheads that sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace. They were looking down at George's hand when she walked in, only to look up when they heard her feet lower to the ground from the portrait hole.

"Before you even start, I planned this," George immediately stated as he stood up from the sofa, causing Blair to stop in front of him. Fred stood up also and backed up his younger brother, looking over his shoulder at the small girl.

"Was it just to promote your telescope thing?" she sighed and the two nodded, showing no sign of regret.

"I sense yelling. I'm gonna leave before it starts," Fred announced before disappearing up the stairs leading to the boys' dormitory.

"We're not going to yell, are we?" George asked with a wince, pleading down at Blair with large eyes.

"No," she shook her head but still gave him a hard look. "It was stupid though. She's got a whole new thing out for you now."

"I don't care. As long as she doesn't start using actual good teaching as a punishment, I'll take these any day," he raised his hand slightly before letting it fall back by his side, pulling Blair's gaze to it like it was a puppet.

"Can I see it?"

He was reluctant at first but eventually raised his arm, letting her dainty hands take his large one between them. The words 'I will not promote my products in class' were still fresh in his skin and the surrounding area was red and irritated. Blair winced at the gruesome sight of the green tinge that was forming behind the words, hinting to harsh bruising that could pair him with Umbridge's eye socket. She hadn't the chance to see what the Blood Quill really did to the skin, only heard of its effects from other students. But seeing it on George's hand made her insides feel heavy and a rock form in my throat.

"It's fine. It stings, but I can handle it," he spoke up when he saw Blair's dropping expression, the glossy sheen in her eyes pulling on the strings that held his heart together.

"Was it worth it? Be honest with me," she decided to ask and turn her eyes to his face, knowing that Fred was out of the room and he didn't have to pretend anymore. George pursed his lips and hated how dark her eyes were. They looked deep into his soul and had already gotten an answer without needing to hear it from his lips.

"No..."

When she wanted George to start spending more time with Fred and developing their products to be better, she didn't mean for it to get to this extent. She was sure that Fred hadn't been the one to suggest this and that it was George's grand idea to get the word out to a wider audience at Hogwarts. They may now be the talk of the school, but George's suffering wasn't worth it in her eyes. And now she knew it wasn't in his either.

Dropping his hand gently, Blair slithered her arms around George's shoulders and stood on her toes to reach his height. She nestled her head into the space connecting his shoulder and neck, squeezing him against her with watery eyes. George didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her middle and bury his nose into her hair, ignoring the wave of pain that sprung up from his hand. He wanted to help his brother and make sure people knew about their amazing inventions, but he didn't know that the consequences would have been as painful as they were. He'd never show this to Fred. Fred would laugh when faced with the same situation and show that it didn't bother him at all. But George couldn't be like that; not all the time.

"Stay here. I'll be right back," Blair whispered into his ear before slowly pulling away from his hold. He nodded wordlessly and watched her rush out of the room and leave through the portrait.

Blair ran down the moving staircase and heading for the dungeons, wishing that the prevention of apparition inside the castle's walls didn't exist. Instead, she relied on her physical stamina that had improved greatly since the start of Quidditch practice again. She zoomed down the many stairs and eventually made it to the dark and damp smelling halls that were the dungeons. She headed for Professor Snape's classroom and looked wearingly over her shoulder, before pointing her wand at the lock of his storage cupboard.

"Ooooo is Rosier stealing?!"

She whipped around and cursed for forgetting the only thing that kept her from venturing to the dungeons during her patrols. Fletcher grinned with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall next to him with the smuggest of looks. His robes hung off his left shoulder as if he just thrown it on for a fashion statement. And never had he looked so happy to be catching someone in the act.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't tell my head of house that I caught you stealing from his ingredient collection."

Wasting no time, Blair pointed her wand at Fletcher and cried 'Confundo!'. He broke out into a fit of giggles and slouched against the wall, unable to hold his own weight as he laughed at nothing in particular. Blair quickly ripped open the door and searched the many jars and bottles of slime, eyeballs, bugs and flesh. She looked at the labels and duplicated small portions of their contents, slipping one out and replacing it with a transfigured one to make it appear that nothing had been changed. She then jumped off the ladder that she climbed and shut the door behind her, locking it with her wand and slipping the ingredients into her robe pockets.

Fletcher only just started to come to as she turned to him, but she didn't allow him to continue his rant and accuse her of bewitching him during her crime.

"Obliviate," she muttered and a thin, silver mist flowed from his temple and into her wand. His eyes glazed and he stumbled for a moment, letting Blair slip past him and start sprinting towards the stairs that led out of the dungeons.

Pushing her thoughts of guilt and regret from her conscience, she headed back to the Gryffindor common room and made her way through the portrait hole. She found George sitting on the sofa in the same position she had left him, his eyes locked on the fire that continued to flicker on its logs. His head whipped up to her entrance and raised an eyebrow at her sweaty face and panting figure.

"Grab your cauldron. I'm fulfilling my role as your potioneer."