CHAPTER 24

SALVE

Lyra had never hated anyone more than that horrible toad of a woman, and she knew quite a few people that sucked. She had made her and Harry carve lines into their own skin and write it on paper in their blood. Why Dumbledore would allow a psychopath into this school to teach, Lyra had no idea.

Nevertheless, the phrase "I must not disrespect," was now etched in her palm, red and itching after a week of detention where she had missed the quidditch tryouts, Angelina still guaranteed her the spot after a weekend training, thankfully. Harry and her had decided on not telling anyone about the detentions they had served, not wanting to make a fuss. So, Lyra covered her hand at all times now, using fingerless gloves, long sleeves, or just sticking it in her robe pocket.

Worse than anything, she had forgotten her gloves during quidditch practice the week after and her hand felt more raw and itchy than before. Despite the scrap of wood on her cuts, she wouldn't back down from practice, fearful of losing her position, and played until her skin bleed, then wrapped it in some linen cloth from the first aid kit in the changing rooms.

It had not helped that she had dived at Parkinson during Gryffindors practice for teasing the entirety of the team, especially Angelina and Ron. She had been ready to punch the Slytherin girl, fist clenched, her nails digging into the already harmed skin. The only thing that stopped her was Katie and George, who had pulled her back from possibly earning herself another week of detention. Still, the Slytherins stayed through the majority of their practices that week and Lyra fought very hard to keep herself from further injuring her hand.

Now, Lyra was tired and had about 5 assignments to finish by Monday. And to top it off, here she was in Astronomy, her normally chipper attitude masked by the drooping of her eyes and constant yawning. Normally she liked Astronomy very much, the stars and moons and everything about it interested her very much, but today, she would rather jump off the tower than stay here for much longer.

"What happened to your hand?" Zara whispered, as Lyra charted a moon on her paper.

"Uhh, splinter from my broom during practice."

Zara didn't seem to believe her but before she could ask, Lyra stood to speak with Professor Sinistra. However, the Ravenclaw was quite perceptive and the way her friend would constantly rub the wrapped hand on her robes, as if relieving an itch, made her think this was more than just a splinter.

Still Lyra stayed silent about the injured hand until class was over and she waved her friend goodbye, heading up with the rest of the Gryffindors to her dorm. She tried doing homework for about an hour, finished her Ancient Runes and Magical Creatures homework before eventually giving up and falling asleep.

Lyra was glad that it was the weekend. Just a few weeks into the semester and she was already exhausted. Unfortunately, her pile of books waited by her bed stand, giving her enough to do for the entire weekend, instead of going on the first Hogsmeade trip.

So she, Lyra, and Zara spent the day at the library, hopefully finishing all of the assignments due next week. At least they would have been if Lyra and Fay didn't have a habit of procrastination and Zara didn't have a habit of complaining from the workload. Eventually, they had finished a good portion of the work, the only things left being History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts, two classes that Lyra detested this year.

Lyra slammed her quill down, "Ok, I'm calling a break."

The other two groaned in relief, "Thank Merlin."

"Yes please. I say, we go to lunch. We still have about half an hour before it's over."

"Or..."

"Oh no," Zara dropped her head onto the table, knowing that her best friend's pause could only mean one thing.

"What if... hear me out. We make everything in the teacher's lounge... Orange!?"

"No."

"Yes!"

"Two against one Zara, orange faculty lounge it is."

"... I hate you both."

"Knight!" Snape roared and Lyra sprinted down steps as fast as she could, towards the Great Hall entrance, Snape, hot at her heels. While she hated being caught for a prank, this was the most awake she had felt in a while due to the crazy amount of assignments.

"This is the last time I trust Fay and Zara to be lookouts." She muttered, as she reached the last steps and was so close to the hall and...

CRASH

She collided straight into Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, the now orange cloth, that covered her cuts came undone, revealing the words on her palm. The three students now lay on the floor, a mess of limbs.

She quickly tried to cover her hand, grabbing at the cloth as fast as she could, but both boys had obviously seen it if the looks on their faces were anything to go by. Before she could tell them to keep quiet, Snape had reached them.

"Well, Miss Knight. I believe your actions just took 20 points from Gyrffinor and earned you two weeks worth of detention in my office, 8 o' clock." The professor drawled before walking into the hall himself.

"Git," Lyra muttered standing from where she lay, halfway across Blaise's torso, her face turned the color of her robes at their position. He averted his eyes from her as well, the only proof of his embarrassment. His gaze instead on her now mostly covered hand, as was Nott's.

Lyra grabbed each of them by the scruff of their weekend clothes, which wasn't hardly casual considering both were wearing expensive suits instead of the student body's favorite informal jeans. "Either of you tell anyone about that, I will hex you into next week."

She let go and stalked off, fixing at the linen until it covered even the slightest of red, irritated skin. Fay and Zara waited at the Gryffindor table.

"That is the last time I ever invite you two to prank. The Weasleys would never fail me as lookouts." She huffed and pouted as she sat.

"Sorry," Fay winced, "How much trouble are you in."

Lyra shrugged, "2 weeks of detention and 20 points from Gryffindor."

Zara sucked in a wince. "We'll make it up to you."

"Yes you will. With a 3-pounds bag from Honeydukes."

Lyra should have asked for more than three pounds worth of candy, because detention with Snape was horrible. Not as bad as Umbridge, but still pretty close.

Spending an hour scrubbing at cauldrons was pretty close to writing into her skin, in Lyra's opinion, especially if she would have to do this for two weeks.

Still, that first night it was nearly impossible for her to even make it back to Gryffindor tower. When she arrived at her dorm, Parvati was asleep, Lavender had her curtains closed, Hermione was studying and Fay was playing a muggle card game she had learned from her brother in law.

Lyra threw herself on her bed, signing as she knew she would soon have to get up to get some assignments done. Last year had been hard with teachers preparing them early on for exams, but this year was brutal. Just having been here a month or so usually meant Lyra would be pranking every other day or drinking butterbeer with her friends. But this year, Lyra could hardly catch a break, pranks were far few and Butterbeer with friends seemed out of the picture.

So, she took out her assignments and began, finishing around 11 o'clock, her roommates all passed out. When she was done, she had unceremoniously shoved her book back in her bag when a note fell from her History of Magic book.

Knight,

Meet me in kitchen, midnight. Have something to give you.

B. Zabini

Lyra chuckled at the note, Zabini's fancy scrawl written across the ripped page. Still she waited until ten minutes till midnight to sneak out of the room, the band on her arm snuggly covering her cuts. And crept down to the kitchens.

Blaise wasn't there yet, so she asked for an ice cold butterbeer from one of the elves, getting another one for Blaise.

He arrived a few minutes later, while Lyra pressed the cold bottle against her band aid, letting the condensation from her bottle leak into her bandage.

"Hey," she said, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder.

"Hi," He said, his lip twitching it a maybe-smile, which is what Lyra was now calling them.

"So, what did you want to give me, creep?" She smirked as he sent her a teasing glare. "It's not my birthday for another four months."

"Here," He tossed her a small tin while taking the seat next to her and opening his own bottle.

"What's this?" Lyra asked, opening at the silver lid.

"Salve, for your cuts."

Lyra looked back up at him, her face hardened and tossed it back at him. "Not thanks."

Blaise looked back at her, half amused, half exasperated. "Why?"

"Because I don't need your help. It's none of your business."

Blaise stood from the stool, "I know you don't need my help. But it looked painful, and you shouldn't have to stick to poorly wrapped bandages and cold bottles to heal that."

Lyra stood as well, more upset than ever that he was so much taller than her now, and pushed his shoulder back, her defense coming in fast. "I told you I don't need your help. I'm fine."

Blaise rolled his eyes, opening the tin again and took her wrist, removing the bandage.

"Hey!"

"Shhh."

"Did you just shush me?!"

"Yes. Now stop being so stubborn and open your hand."

They stayed silent, making eye contact for minutes, neither willing to back down. Lyra found herself too tired to fight and opened her hand, her palm facing Blaise.

The boy sucked in a breath at the cuts, softly running his thumb over them, and bent his head down until it was almost under Lyra's chin.

That cannot be good for his neck. She thought.

He grabbed some of the salve with his middle finger and spread it across her fingers. Lyra hissed and tried pulling her hand back, but his grip was firm enough to keep her palm in place. When the shock of the cold of it faded Lyra felt herself relax at the immense soothingness of not only the balm but Blaise's fingers, massaging at the marks.

"How did this happen, by the way?" His voice was a bit hoarse but Lyra didn't play it any mind.

"Umbridge." Blaise's head shot up so fast, he almost smacked into Lyra's chin.

"What?!"

Lyra nodded, "She has these quills that use your blood as ink. She makes us write lines for detention and the quills make cuts."

Blaise still didn't let go of her wrist. "You should tell someone."

Lyra shook her head, "Harry and I agreed to keep quiet."

Blaise gave her another exasperated look, "Typical nobleness."

Lyra flicked at his forehead with her free hand and Blaise actually chuckled, swatting her hand away before returning to her injured one, taking more salve.

Lyra then realized how close they were, she could smell his cologne from where she stood. It was elegant and spicy and it made her feel as dizzy as his laugh had. When he finished rubbing the salve he looked at her again.

Lyra remembers in second year when someone had dared her to ride her broom like a mechanical bull. She had spun around for a minute and a half before she had been knocked off and she had spun so much that she couldn't stand for five minutes after if she wanted to maintain her breakfast.

This is what it felt like to be so close to Blaise and his cologne and his laugh and his eyes, that shone like black onyx stones. The feeling increased as he got closer, and she got closer, and their noses were a breath away. And...

Lyra's mouth fell wide in a yawn and the two jumped apart in shock. Blaise relaxed his composure back to a collected stance while Lyra stared wide eyed as she covered her still yawning mouth.

The silence morphed from relaxed and intimate to tense and awkward.

"Er. Sorry, I'm really tired, haven't gotten much sleep," Lyra said, her eyes averted to her old fraying sneakers.

Blaise scratched at the back of his neck, "No worries, we should head back. It's late."

Lyra nodded, grabbing at their empty bottles of butterbeer and throwing them, despite the house elves' protests "Yeah, yeah. We should."

"Great." Blaise responded as they headed for the door in silence. When they reached their separate hallways, Lyra turned to Blaise again.

"Thanks... For the salve."

Blaise sent her another maybe-smile and a tossing the salve tin in the air, "No worries. Glad I could be of help to the Knight of Gryffindor."

Lyra smiled back and grabbed for the tin, catching it in her non-injured hand "You're a good friend Zabini, thanks."

Blaise shrugged and turned towards the staircase that led to the Slytherin common room, "See you around, Knight."

"See you, Zabini."