"But I don't see pustules on you," Harry said, examining them.
"You wouldn't," George said, staring at the ceiling. "They're not in places we'd normally show in public. But if we get on broomsticks, they make us—"
Fred clapped his hand over George's mouth. His ears blazed red like they'd been branded. The twins hurried from the Great Hall, walking oddly.
"Right... anyway," Hermione said, clearing her throat awkwardly, pretending she hadn't understood the implication. She drew her wand, tapping around Ron and Harry's eyes.
"Remember this—'Impervius!' Simple waterproofing charm. You'll see clearer in the rain."
Umbridge didn't appear the rest of the day. During lunch and dinner, 'Pink Lady' discussions intensified. At the Gryffindor table, everyone wore genuine smiles. Maybe Umbridge wouldn't return—many hoped so.
Unfortunately, that evening's Quidditch practice went poorly. Orli and Hermione stayed in the common room—they could almost hear the Black Lake's distant churning. Rain hammered the windows like buckets being poured, making wall lamps flicker. They moved their chairs together—otherwise they couldn't hear each other across the table.
Around nine, the Quidditch players crawled back through the portrait hole. All soaked, grumbling. Hermione handed Harry and Ron large dry towels. Orli saw Fred and George bow-legged, grimacing with every step.
"Think some of mine burst," Fred said, muffled.
"Mine haven't, but they're swollen awful..." George squeezed through gritted teeth.
"Ahem..." Orli stepped forward to interrupt. She felt she should offer advice, though embarrassingly uncertain.
"Fred, George."
Both nearly jumped, turning with flushed faces, unsure how much she'd heard.
"No offense—maybe a few drops of Murtlap essence might help," Orli said quickly, hurrying back to her seat.
Harry was drying his hair in Orli's chair when he suddenly cried out.
He pressed the towel to his face, eyes squeezed shut.
"What's wrong?" Orli, Ron, and Hermione asked together.
"Your scar?" Orli lowered her voice.
Harry checked that everyone had moved away, then nodded.
"But..." Ron said, surprised, walking to the window and looking toward the rain-soaked grounds. "He—he can't be close now, can he?"
"No," Harry said quietly, slumping into an armchair, rubbing his forehead. "Might be a thousand miles away. It hurts because... he's furious."
Orli steadied herself. "How do you know he's furious? Did you see what's in front of him?"
Harry sat quietly, staring at his soaked shoes, then said slowly, "He's trying to accomplish something. But it's not happening fast enough."
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