If Hermione Granger had woken up in the night and ventured down to the common room, she would have had a wave of severe déjà vu. In the exact position as she had sat in her second year in the girls' bathroom, was Blair in front of a steaming cauldron. Blair had taken off her robe and thrown it over the arm of the sofa, leaving her in her school jumper and skirt. She had tied her hair up into a bun to keep it from dipping into the lime green liquid that was bubbling in the cauldron. She held her wand in one hand with a tiny flame used to heat up the cauldron's contents, while a bottle of a red gel sat in her other hand.

"That looks rancid," George commented as he peeked his head over the top of the steaming concoction, wrinkling his nose at the antiseptic smell that flowed out.

"It'll help immensely though," Blair replied, heating the bottom of the cauldron once more with her wand's flame.

"And what did you say you did to Potts?"

"Obliviated him."

"Will you get in trouble for that?"

"No one will suspect it was me. I wasn't supposed to be anywhere near the dungeons for my patrol. They'll think it was someone who was wandering the halls and didn't want to be seen or remembered."

George blinked and let his eyes wander over Blair's concentrated face. He had never heard of a Head Girl breaking the rules and stealing from a Professor's classroom, cursing a student and having no conscience over it. He wouldn't want Blair to get in trouble for his sake, no matter how painful his aching hand was. He was astonished at how laissez faire Blair was about the situation. Usually, she would be panicking that Potts would somehow remember what she had done and suffer an extremity like suspension or expulsion. But if he could punch Professor Umbridge in the face and not be expelled for it, he was sure she would be fine. And it seems that she knew that this time too.

His mind then focused on what George was actually looking at. His girlfriend was sitting in front of his cauldron brewing him a potion with stolen ingredients and didn't appear to care that she had cursed the Head Boy with a confundos charm and a memory charm. She had just finished Quidditch practice and was doing her Head Girl duties only to throw away those responsibilities and come to see him, forcing out his true feelings of having to use his own blood as ink for writing lines. Blair had changed from the silent and cold girl she once was, and has bloomed into a mischievous copy of what he saw as the most perfect girl in the world.

"I love you."

Blair nearly dropped the jar of murtlap essence into the finished potion. Her gaze rose from the cauldron and centred on George who looked exactly how she appeared. His lips were parted as if he wasn't meant to say what he did and his adam's apple bobbed up and down from him swallowing. As the potion bubbled and swirled in between them, they looked at each other with wide eyes and open mouths. After a moment, George straightened his slouched posture and cleared his throat, owning what he had said.

"That's right. I love you, Blair Rosier," he announced, looking into her eyes and holding her gaze like a tiger would with its prey.

"G-George... it's only been a year..."

"I know. I'm not asking you to say it back. I just wanted to let you know."

Never had Blair thought that someone would mutter those words to her. Maybe someone would mistake her for someone else, causing an aurora of awkwardness and misunderstanding afterwards. But George was saying it to her. He loved her. He loved her as a person, as a partner, as a soul. How could anyone ever feel that way about her? Even though she knew she felt the same way, as deep down she felt her heart warm and the feeling spread to the very tips of her toes and fingers. But something was preventing her from admitting it. It was that wall that she had thought was transparent until now. She still wasn't convinced that she was worthy of George's kindness.

"Thank you... but I need time. I appreciate you so much, Georgie. And I want to say it back. I know I do. But... I need more time..." was all she could say.

"I can wait," George hitched the corner of his lips up, ignoring the tiny pang that he felt in his chest. He knew it would be selfish to be upset and angry that Blair couldn't say the words back. He had to understand that she wasn't as open as he was no matter how much she had changed in his time of knowing her.

"It's finished," Blair said after a gratifying nod, bringing both of their attention back to the cauldron.

Instead of dwelling the moment, they thought it was best to let it pass. It would be useless to over think the situation and cause a rift in what was meant to be a heartfelt confession from George. Blair poured some of the potion into a small jar and put the lid back over the top, shuffling it to the side so that she could sit in front of George. She sat on her knees and looked down at the potion that had curdled into a cream, looking suspiciously like mucus. Ignoring the comparison, she took hold of George's hand that had the writing still sketched into his skin.

George watched from above as she smothered his hand with the putrid looking and smelling cream, but couldn't deny the cooling effect that immediately settled in once it touched his irritated scars. His muscles that were tense finally relaxed and he looked to Blair who concentrated on her work. Her smooth cheeks gave him the urge to run his finger tips over them, taking in her delicate presence that was helping his pain ooze away into the abyss. He couldn't believe that he had the words slip out of his mouth, but they had been brewing in his conscience long enough for then to spill over the top. It was what he felt and he was glad that she knew. He would have liked to have heard the same words from her lips, but he was content with letting her admit it on her own time. He loved her for who she was and not who she would need to pretend to be.

"Does it feel better?" she asked and he looked back down to his hand, reluctant to look away from her gorgeous face.

He was shocked to see that the red and inflamed skin had completely diminished and left unscathed flesh. There was no sign of scars and no words that uttered what he shall not do to his Professors.

"How did you do that?" he questioned, ogling at his hand in astonishment.

"Healing potion. Hopefully the scars won't come back over time. If they do, just put some more on," Blair informed while slipping the corked bottle into his hand.

"B-But even healing potions aren't this good," he stammered. Blair just shrugged with a warm smile, not giving him the secret to her success. She shuffled back over to the cauldron and used the empty ingredient bottles to fill the remaining portion of the potion, soon being surrounded by jars of the lime green cream.

"We can hand these out to all the people who have had Umbridge's detentions," she said and swished her wand, cleaning out the cauldron and gathering all the bottles into her hands.

"Blair's healing snot," George sniggered but then looked thoughtful, putting his hand to his chin. "That's a good idea, actually."

Blair rolled her eyes before leaning over, pressing her lips against George's slowly and sincerely. The kiss was sweet and short, but ignited sparks in both of their bodies. Even though Blair felt guilty for not yet being able to return George's confession, she adored the idea of knowing that someone actually loved her in the way he did.

"I'm sorry for not being able to say it. But I hope you know..." she trailed off and he got the message.

"I know. I can wait."

---

By the time the first Quidditch game of the year came around, Blair's remedy for Professor Umbridge's punishments were famous among all year groups. Despite its disturbing consistency, the small bottles had been passed around enough to take over the entire school. No longer did people have to sit with their scars and endure the pain it inflicted after its initiation. They could rid themselves of the painful words with a layer of the green cream and then pass the bottle on to the next poor soul that had been put into Umbridge's detentions. It didn't help that Umbridge had nailed over thirty educational decrees, meaning that more things that once were acceptable, were now banned at Hogwarts. But the potion had been a snotty, disgusting looking blessing.

"Miss Blair?"

Sitting at the Gryffindor table, Blair turned around and saw a first year Hufflepuff looking up at her with big eyes. Standing near the entrance to the Great Hall were a group of Hufflepuffs standing timidly as they watched their friend ask the seventh year for another remedy. Blair was dressed in her blue Quidditch robes for today's game and was eating a nutritious breakfast, only to be approached by the third person asking for the potion in the last twenty minutes.

"You want another bottle?" she asked and the Hufflepuff nodded his head vigorously, sending a thumbs up to his group of friends who cheered among themselves at the confirmation.

"That's the last of them," Blair sighed once she had handed him the bottle and watched him run off, holding it high above him as if it was a trophy.

"Make some more tonight," Fred suggested with a shrug, shovelling down three hash browns at once.

"I would have to raid Snape's storage room again. It'll be too suspicious," she shook her head, now picking at her fruit salad.

"I know you didn't like the idea, but if you chose to sell them instead, we could order the ingredients in for you when we order our stock for products," George said.

She hadn't wanted to profit from the potion she knew was helping students, but it was starting to get to the point where Professor Snape would notice that his supplies was getting suspiciously low. She had been able to slip past Fletcher with the memory charm, but could she continue duplicating ingredients that weren't as qualitative as the original? The only option was to start buying her own supplies. Fred and George had already offered to order the ingredients for her and then create labels, making it part of the Weasley Wizard Wheezes range. Their other products were selling faster than Ron eats bacon that is within a metre radius of him. So why not sell her invention as well?

"I'll think about it. That last bottle should keep in rotation for little while longer. Then I'll decide what to do," she stated and George nodded.

"You don't owe anyone those potions, Blair," Hermione spoke up from nearby, making Blair turn her head to the girl who sat adjacent to her. "Although they are brilliant, they're not solving the problem."

"And what is the problem, Granger?" Fred defended Blair, surprising everyone that was listening. Their friendship had been improving greatly since their secret talk in the painted corridor. She had made sure that George was spending equal amounts of time with Fred as he was with her. Not only that, the two had found something in common that they could bond over. They hated Umbridge and wanted her out of the school. And to do this, they could brew more healing potions to show the woman that her torture will not suppress Hogwarts in the way she wanted.

"Umbridge," Hermione answered after recovering from Fred's surprisingly defensive tone. "That's why Harry and I are planning to start defence classes. We're having a meeting in The Hog's Head tomorrow at twelve o'clock. If you want to join, feel free to come along."

"Her product placement is brilliant," Fred mentioned and the two rolled their eyes in return.

"What does she mean by defence classes? Does she mean ways to defend ourselves against Umbridge or...?" Blair whispered, wary of people around them listening.

"I think she means what Umbridge is supposed to be teaching us," George explained. "We'll go tomorrow and check it out. It can't hurt. But for now, you've got a game against Hufflepuff, Blair. Eat up."