Bloody Blood Quill

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Nova opted out of eating in the Great Hall. She'd rather not have people whispering about her. She knew word of everything she said during DADA was spreading through the school faster than wildfire. She knew people either began to believe her, or they are 100% convinced she has some screws loose. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left halfway through dinner, unable to deal with the stares. Harry, as per usual nowadays, was furious. Why couldn't they see he was right? Why wouldn't anyone believe him?

His gaze shifted to Nova, who sat on the couch, reading her book. His anger faded, one could see it in his eyes. Hermione sure could. 

Harry plopped himself onto the couch. He rested his head in Nova's lap. Nova, who had been reading, didn't notice as she began to play with his hair. Harry gazed into the flames. He felt emotionally exhausted. 

Crookshanks curled himself into Hermione's lap like a furry ginger cushion. 

"How can Dumbledore have let this happen?" Hermione yelled in furry, shocking her friends. Ron nearly fell out of his chair, and Nova's book smacked Harry's face causing him to groan and rub his forehead. Even Crookshanks was startled. "How can he let that terrible woman teach us? And in our O.W.L. year too!"

"Well, we've never had great Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, have we?" said Harry. "You know what it's like, Hagrid told us, nobody wants the job, they say it's jinxed." 

"What's Pa to you?" Nova joked. 

"That's not what I meant," Harry said hotly. 

"I know that, darlin," Nova teased. "Calm down, will ya?"

Harry grinned and rolled his eyes.

"Yes, but to employ someone who's actually refusing to let us do magic! What's Dumbledore playing at?" 

"And she's trying to get people to spy for her," said Ron darkly. "Remember when she said she wanted us to come and tell her if we hear anyone saying You-Know-Who's back?" 

"Of course she's here to spy on us all, that's obvious, why else would Fudge have wanted her to come?" snapped Hermione. 

"Don't start arguing again," said Harry wearily, as Ron opened his mouth to retaliate. "Can't we just . . . Let's just do that homework, get it out of the way. . . ."

By now, people began entering the Common Room. Harry kept his gaze averted, but he knew of the stares he was attracting. Nova, with her back against the armrest, had the bottoms of her fuzzy socked feet against Harry's thighs. She wasn't tall enough for them to be in his lap while still sitting up, but her feet were cold so she kept them there. 

"Shall we do Snape's stuff first?" said Ron, dipping his quill into his ink. " 'The properties . . . of moonstone . . . and its uses . . . in potion-making . . .' " Ron muttered, writing the words across the top of his parchment as he spoke them. "There." He underlined the title, then looked up expectantly at Hermione. 

"So what are the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making?" 

Hermione wasn't paying attention. Instead, her narrowed eyes were on Fred and George as innocent-looking first years ate their demented sweets. 

"No, I'm sorry, they've gone too far," she said, standing up and looking positively furious. "Come on, Ron." 

"I — what?" said Ron, plainly playing for time. "No — come on, Hermione — we can't tell them off for giving out sweets. . . ." 

"You know perfectly well that those are bits of Nosebleed Nougator — or Puking Pastilles or —" 

"Fainting Fancies?" Harry suggested quietly.

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