"But you don't know what hell you put me through

To have someone kiss the skin that crawls from you

To feel your weight in arms I'd never use

It's the God that heroin prays to"

---

Song: To Be Alone, Hozier

---

XIV - Aftermath

Afternoon

---

Annabeth knew something had gone wrong the second she saw Piper stalking to the side of the lake, where the group had planned to meet after their first days of classes.

She sat next to her, throwing her head into her hands as she pressed her palms to her eyes. Jason soon followed, wrapping his arms around her as she pressed back the tears. Thalia soon followed, Ozone heavy around her, only slightly simmering as Reyna took her hand in hers.

The most surprising arrival was Frank, who looked more like Clarrise than he ever had, with his flaming eyes and lips pressed into a thin line.

Once the entire group arrived they recounted their disastrous DADA lesson. Annabeth winced at every detail and looked at them in shock when she was told they all had detention at five the next night.

Annabeth pulled out some parchment and some ink and a quill, ready to write the details of the class to Chiron. Frank recounted it again, and Annabeth wrote everything, letting it dry before putting it into the messenger bag she brought to her classes.

Once that was over, the group relaxed a bit. People laid across people and they spoke in a mix of Greek, English and Latin, bouncing between the three every few sentences.

It was Frank who noticed Harry and his friends, who passed the group whispering to one another in a tight huddle. Frank called out to them, waving them over.

They awkwardly came over and were introduced to the group. Annabeth did not miss the long look Harry gave her, but chose to ignore it once Harry noticed that she was sitting in Percy's lap, who had his chin on her head, and his eyes closed, enjoying the moment.

"So," Hermione said. "Where are you guys from?"

They told her, all exchanging laughs and glances that Hermione didn't understand, but she chooses to ignore it.

"What was your old school like?" The group stiffened.

"It was fine. We learned a lot of self-defence, along with magic, of course," Annabeth said, her voice suddenly much stiffer.

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance.

Hermione continued to press, trying to learn more about the Transfers, but the more she pressed the more the answers seemed rehearsed. Too much nonchalance there, too much stiffness there, too many traded glances.

Eventually, the trio left, all-knowing something was afoot, none of them having the confidence to say it. So they walked back in silence.

---

XV - Proper Lady

A Day Later

---

The next night, the group met up with those who had to go to detention that night, giving them hugs and telling them to give her hell.

The four of them were silent as they approached the woman's office, at the same moment Harry did. They all exchanged glances before Frank knocked. A sugary voice replied, "Come in."

Thalia winced.

They stepped inside, and Piper nearly stopped dead in her tracks at the sight, It was so... so... Pink. It was like the Aphrodite cabin had once been, but even worse and stomach-turning. Piper swallowed it down as Umbridge bid them good evening and told them to sit. She could almost see the blank stare Drew would give the room. Or the creative knife patterns she would draw in the fabric.

Harry asked Umbridge something, Piper didn't listen, but she didn't miss the way Harry's face sank, and the gleam in Umbridge's eyes. Jason gave her a cold glare.

"Now you all will be doing lines," Piper resisted the urge to bang her head against the table, as she reached for their quills, stopping when Umbridge spoke. "No, no, you do not need those. I have some rather special quills you will use." She opened a desk drawer and pulled out five long, thin, black quills handing each of them one.

They all pulled out the parchment, and Umbridge told them each what they were to write in a rather soft voice, "Mr Potter, you are too write I must not tell lies. Miss McLean, I am a proper lady. Miss Grace," Thalia's lip curled, "I will be tame, you too Mr Zhang. Mr Grace," her eyes glimmered with malevolence, "I will be respectful."

"How many times?" Harry asked.

"Oh, how about until the message sinks in ," Umbridge said, her eyes glimmering even more.

"We have no ink," Thalia said.

"Oh," Umbridge giggled, "You won't need that."

Piper sighed, and put her pen to the paper and wrote. Immediately, she noticed a strange prickling sensation, but she ignored it. She ignored the gasp. She ignored the pain as it grew.

I am a proper lady.

I am a proper lady.

I am a proper lady.

She only stopped when she noticed the ink.

She had fought long and hard enough to recognise blood on sight.

This ink was the same deep crimson as her blood, with the shimmer of gold, the hint of ichor.

Piper was going to barf.

She looked at the back of her hand, where the words she had been told to write were carved into her skin, red blood sluggishly dribbling out.

"Is something wrong Miss McLean?"

Piper did not reply.

She just swallowed her pride and continued to write.

I am a proper lady.

I am a proper lady.

I am a proper lady...