| Inked | (George Weasley)

Chapter One Hundred Three

First day of classes.

For Olive and her fellow seventh-years, it was their last first day.

While the Ravenclaw found herself looking forward to her first day of classes, all that excitement died the minute she sat down to breakfast.

Even though they had been seemingly cool all weekend, Cho and Natalie seemed slightly distant from Olive this morning. They had already been at the Great Hall when she arrived, and had been mostly quiet while the three of them ate breakfast.

Now, walking into her first day of Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Umbridge, Olive quickly saw how this year was not going to be what she expected it to be.

Umbridge stood at the front, her narrowed eyes studying every student as they walked in, judging them with either the pursing of her lips or the clearly pointed clearing of her throat.

When Olive sat down in the middle of the classroom beside Nat, she felt the professor's eyes linger just a second too long on her neck.

They had just come from potions, and as a challenge Professor Snape had them brew a Draught of the Living Dead from memory. When the entire class was brewing potions, the classroom grew quite hot, so Olive had loosened her tie.

It was only slightly loosened, but it was enough to catch the eye of Umbridge, and it didn't help that she had a fading hickey from George poking out from her collar, or that her scars were more noticeable because the very top button of her shirt was undone.

Olive felt her cheeks grow hot under Umbridge's snooty gaze and quickly averted her eyes. 

She looked down at the textbook that had been placed at her desk, a shiny book that looked brand new, the cover a glossy portrait of cartoon students sitting at their desks and working. Happy smiles were painted on their faces. 

It was not at all what she was expecting, especially when she opened to the table of contents to find that they were not, in fact, going to be learning about any defensive spells. Nothing about practicing apparition, or even counter-curses or offensive spells that could be useful when attacked. 

"I want to welcome all of you today." Umbridge's nasally whine got everyone's attention rather reluctantly, "Just before we begin with our first lesson, I want to go over a few things that proved to be... new information for your younger peers." 

Olive did her best to keep her face relaxed and even, her skin itching at the professor's accusatory tone. 

"This year we are strictly going to be learning about defensive theory. This is what the Ministry feels is best for students this year, considering the current circumstances. We would not want a panic, now would we?" She started pacing down the center aisle, her stubby wand tapping against her thigh, "Especially when there are students spreading dangerous lies meant to scare you into unruliness." 

Harry. Olive gripped her pen tighter. There was no way that Umbridge was not talking about him. He had been front and center on the majority of Daily Prophets lately. It angered her to know that this professor was targeting him especially. 

"There is a recklessness among you students that needs to be tamed if you are to be entering the Wizarding World as proper adults this spring." Umbridge continued, "Etiquette. Manners. How to act to your superiors. Professionalism is of the utmost importance this term." 

Nat raised her hand. 

"Yes, Miss.... Arnold, is it?" 

The blonde nodded, "Yes, Professor... Um, I was wondering when we would be getting to the part where you tell us about the defensive spells we're learning this year? Just curious, is all."