BYRON WHITE | The most faithful

INSPECTION

The second punishment was as horrible as the previous one. The skin on the back of Harry's hand became irritated faster and was soon red and inflamed.Harry thought he wouldn't be able to heal completely any longer. Soon the wound would be etched on his hand and Umbridge might be satisfied.

He didn't let out even a groan of pain. When he was dismissed it was like the previous times past midnight. Byron was still in the second corridor on the left waiting for him to accompany him to the common room.

Talking to him improved his mood, albeit slightly, at least until she was in his room. His homework situation was now desperate, he did not go to bed, despite being exhausted, but he opened the books and began the theme for Snape on the moonstone. When he finished it was half past two. He knew he did a bad job, but he couldn't do anything about it, if he didn't deliver something, he too would be punished by Snape. Then he jotted down some answers to Professor McGonagall's assigned questions, cobbled together something about the proper treatment of Pegs for Professor Caporal, and staggered to bed, where he collapsed onto the covers fully dressed and instantly fell asleep.

Thursday passed in a haze of weariness. Ron also looked very sleepy, although Harry didn't understand why. Harry's third retribution went by like the other two, except that after two hours the words: I must not tell lies they no longer wiped off the back of his hand, but remained etched in it, dripping droplets of blood. Sensing that the pointed feather had stopped scratching for a moment on the parchment, Professor Umbridge looked up.

"Ah," she said softly, walking around the desk to look at her hand. "Good. It should serve as a warning, right? You can go for tonight."

"Do I always have to come back tomorrow?" Harry asked, picking up the bag with his left hand instead of his aching right. "Oh yes." Professor Umbridge answered with her broad smile. "Yes, I think we can get the message a little deeper with another night of work."

Harry had never thought before that he could hate another teacher more than Snape, but he had to admit that Snape had a valid competitor.

"Hi Byron." he greeted as he turned the corner.

"Tired out?" the other asked coming towards him.

"A little, at least next time should be the last." he said with false optimism.

"Come on, fine." he nodded looking into his eyes. "What's wrong with you?"

Harry, who had just scratched his nose with his free right hand, tried to hide it. "It's just a cut ... it's nothing ... it's ..."Byron grabbed Harry's forearm and raised the back of his hand to his eye level. There was a pause, during which he thought he saw.

Byron's eyes flare up, he stared at the words etched into his skin, before gently releasing her.

"I thought he only made you write sentences."

Harry hesitated, took a deep breath and told him the truth about the hours he had spent in Umbridge's office.

 "Old hag!" Byron whispered in disgust as he stopped in front of the Fat Lady who was dozing quietly with her head against her frame.

"I'll take care of it." he secured by contracting his jaw.

"There is no need." hastened to say Harry.

"Yes, there is, he can't use this kind of punishment."

"I don't want to give you satisfaction."

"Don't be a Gryffindor." he teased him "You don't have to prove you're brave in this case, if he hurts you he can't get away with it." Byron's voice had grown strangely low.