Briar and Potter were currently bent over the dozens of journals that Folsy had given Briar on Easter. They were at a table in the library, trying to read through the many pages without anyone noticing what they were looking at. Briar couldn't believe that Potter had so readily agreed to help her, but when he started to ask her leading questions about Neville, she understood that he had his own agenda for doing this. She just couldn't understand why the boy had any interest in her affairs with his shy roommate.

While casually flipping through the pages of a worn leather journal, Harry trailed, "So, is Neville a good tutor?"

"Yes. Why?" Briar quipped as she rapidly scanned the pages in a worn, dark green journal. Most of it was just typical stuff, but Folsy had told Briar that there was some important information in them, but Folsy couldn't remember where. She refused to explain and apparated out of the room before Briar could question her further.

So now, Briar and Potter were on a wild goose chase to look through her mum's journals. Folsy said she had hidden them after Euthalia was killed, but she felt that now was the right time to give them to Briar.

Briar looked through some of the incoherent ramblings her mother had written from her first year at Hogwarts, but she faintly smiled at some of the descriptions of unnamed classmates she was reading about. She wondered if any of them were the Marauders.

Potter pursed his lips and slowly turned a page. He murmured, "Oh, I could always use the help in Herbology is all, and Neville's a kind soul. It's his best trait, I'd say, wouldn't you?"

Briar looked up at Potter and lowered her eyebrows and narrowed her eyes. She snipped, "Are you here to help me, or just to express your love for Longbottom?"

"Well, is it mutual? He's a...good person, so I don't see how you couldn't adore someone like that," Harry forced out with a cough before dipping his head to stare at the pages more closely.

She scanned the library slowly, searching for a sign of the Weasley twins who clearly had to be putting Potter up to this. She swore that those two were starting to get on her last nerve, and she started to wonder about the pranks she could pull on them to make it clear that she wasn't going to sit idly by as they messed with her. Briar blinked when she saw no sign of suspicious activity in the library. The tables were hardly even occupied that Saturday morning. Most students were in Hogsmeade or still sleeping.

Briar settled a questioning stare onto Potter's hunched form and hissed, "What are you trying to do, Potter? What's with all the questions?"

He blinked up at her from behind his wire-rimmed glasses. He glanced around too before leaning in and admitting, "Well, it's no secret that people think you fancy him, but you do send pretty confusing signals if I'm being honest with you."

"What does it matter what signals I'm sending, Potter?"

He used the back of his hand to push his glasses up, but he just shook his head and dove back into reading. Briar crossed her arms and planned to demand that Harry explain himself when he let out a loud gasp.

Briar's eyes scanned his face for a hint of what just happened, but his eyes were reading and rereading and rereading the page before him. Briar didn't wait for an explanation. She snatched the journal from in front of him and scanned the page that he had been looking at. When her eyes settled on the paragraph that he had been focused on, her hand slowly rose to her mouth. She exhaled, "He's my..."

Potter was staring at a bookshelf across the aisle from them with wide, unblinking eyes. He started, "But I thought...?"

He didn't finish his thought because Briar slammed the journal shut and scooped them all up. The chair scraped the floor loudly as she hurried from her seat. She mumbled to herself, "I need to go. I have to...study herbology."

Potter spoke up then and desperately called, "Not with Neville, I presume? He was still in rough shape this morning."

Briar whipped around and stared at Potter with her mouth fallen open. She demanded slowly, "What do you mean by that?"

A sick feeling settled in her stomach, and her eyes flickered down to Potter's exposed hand. She realized then that his hand had fresh wounds carved into the top of it.

Umbridge.

Pieces began to come together in Briar's mind. Was that why Crabbe and Goyle had been so smug yesterday? They were doing the devil spawn's work.

Briar growled, "I'm going to obliterate her."

Potter immediately jumped to his feet and latched his arms onto her just as she had started for the door. He hissed, "Stop! You can't do anything! It's useless. She has too much power. You'll just make the situation worse."

"If she isn't breathing, what more can she do, Potter?"

"You'll go to Azkaban."

"So be it. I cannot allow that bloody woman to freely roam these halls," Briar snarled with fists clenched so hard that her knuckles were white.

Potter grunted, "You can't. You'll lose Neville."

Briar froze and then stared at Potter with a tight expression. She finally whispered, "As if I ever had him to begin with." With that, she shoved Potter away and calmly made it from the library. His words had hit a nerve though. She refused to be seen as a monster by the one boy who made her feel human.

With his sweetly smiling face in her mind, she felt her heart slow to its normal rhythm. He was alive, she reminded herself, and she tried not to think about the pain he must have experienced at the hands of that disgusting, despicable, vile woman.

Briar recognized that now wasn't the time, but Umbridge would get what she deserved eventually, and Briar planned to make certain of that.

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