The Forgotten Olympian |BOOK 1| PJO X HP | Alexandra Marine

Chapter 131 - Alex - Evil Vs. Cruel

"Well, it's not her," I said as I ate my breakfast. After practice at three at night with Annabeth and the others, to say that I slept like a baby would be an understatement. Of course, that is, until Hermione woke me up.

"You're sure?" Annabeth asked. "Because the punishment she's giving-"

"Yes, it's evil," I answered.  "But it's not Eris' style, know what I mean?"

A short pause. "No," Nico, Will and Percy said together.

"Aight, but I know what I mean, and I say it's not her. Eris is cruel, not evil," I said. "I'm like seventy five percent sure Umbridge's not Eris."

"And what about the rest fifteen?" Jason asked.

"Maybe if she becomes headmistress and overthrows Dumbledore or something," I said, grinning.

"That's likely," Will scoffed. 

"She loves my ADHD, seriously," I said. "Can't wait for detention, though. It's lovely to see her in pain."

Jason grit his teeth. "I would love to report her to-"

"Hey," I interrupted. "We made a deal. Harry wants nothing to be said out loud. At least for now. I have no idea why, but he asked me to promise him."

"I'm doing this for you, not Harry," Jason replied.

"Then I'm asking you to stay strong in your heart and let go of the things you fear you'll lose."

Percy blinked. "Sorry, that sentence was too long for me register it. Go over again."

I smirked. "Great words are never said twice, brother mine."

Thursday passed in a haze of tiredness. Everyone except perhaps Hermione was tired, even Ron. My second detention passed in the same way as the previous one, except that after two hours the words 'I must not tell lies' did not fade from the back of Harry's hand, but remained scratched there, oozing rivers of blood. I looked at my hand, pale and raw from all the writing, but still healing fast, the words almost etched into the skin, but closing slowly. The pause in the pointed quills scratching made Professor Umbridge look up. 

"Ah," Umbridge said softly, moving around her desk to examine our hands herself. "Good. That ought to serve as a reminder to you, oughtn't it? You may leave for tonight."

"Do I still have to come back tomorrow?" said Harry, picking up his schoolbag with his left hand rather than his smarting right one.

"Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge, smiling as widely as before. "Yes, I think we can etch the message a little deeper with another evenings work."

"No problem at all, Professor," I smiled back. "And in the meanwhile, I think you should discuss with Filch the amount of room freshener you should use in this room to keep away the odor of that nasty floral perfume."

And then I turned away and ran.

Harry was laughing like a hyena by the time we'd reached Gryffindor Tower. "You're insane."

"I'll take that as a compliment," I answered back, bowing.

"Seriously, how did they tolerate you at Ilvermorny?" Harry asked, still laughing.

"They didn't," I grinned. "This ain't my first detention, bud. How's the cut?"

"Not bad," Harry said, looking at his palm. "It was worse before you healed it- Ron?"

We had reached the top of the stairs, turned right and almost walked 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 us and attempted to hide his new Cleansweep Eleven behind his back.

"What are you doing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Er--nothing. What are you doing?" Ron asked, clearly terrified.

Harry 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 there."

He was talking in a very fast, feverish way.

I looked at him with narrow eyes. "But what have you got your broom for, you haven't been flying, have you?"

"I--well--well, OK, 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," I said, concerned for the boy. 

Ron blinked. 

"It's a brilliant idea!" Harry exclaimed. "It'd be really cool if you got on the team! I've never seen you play Keeper, are you good?"

"I'm not bad," said Ron, who looked immensely relieved at Harry's reaction. "Charlie, Fred and George 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."

"I wish I was going to be there," said Harry bitterly, as we set off together towards the common room.

"Yeah, so do-- Harry, what's that on the back of your hand?"

Harry, who had just scratched his nose with his free right hand, tried to hide it, but had as much success as Ron with his Cleansweep.

"It's just a cut --it's nothing--it's--"

But Ron had grabbed Harry's forearm and pulled the back of Harry's hand up level with his eyes. There was a pause, during which he stared at the words carved into the skin, then, looking sick, he released Harry.

"I thought you said she was just giving you lines?" he asked us.

Harry hesitated, but after all, Ron had been honest with him, so he told Ron the truth about the hours we had been spending in Umbridge's office.

"The old hag!" Ron said in a revolted whisper as we 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 Harry at once. "I'm not giving her the satisfaction of knowing she's got to me."

"Got to you? You can't let her get away with this!" He turned to me, looking for support.

"I don't know how much power McGonagall's got over her," said Harry.

"Dumbledore, then, tell Dumbledore!"

"I mean, that's not a bad idea-" I started.

"No," said Harry flatly.

"Why not?"

"He's got enough on his mind." 

"Well, I reckon you should--" Ron began, but he was interrupted by the Fat Lady, who had been watching us sleepily and now burst out, "Are you going to give me the password or will I have to stay awake all night waiting for you to finish your conversation?"

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