Blaise liked early mornings. If nothing else, being an early riser meant less time with his housemates. At least one of whom snored badly enough that Blaise had lain awake more than once, daydreaming of silencing charms, or smothering with a pillow.
Being a morning person had its advantages though. The quidditch pitch was often empty, or nearly so and the halls rarely had crowds. The library though was especially nice early. There was never knots of whispering students frantically trying to finish their classwork, or older students noisily leafing through texts in an effort to find some source for their essay that wouldn't force them to actually try to write it themselves, but instead be easily copied and altered slightly.
The other advantage was, of course, that there was rarely anyone to see what you were doing. Blaise often came here early to work on his Potions studies, since he didn't kept up without a struggle. Most mornings would have found him bent over a potions text, attempting to isolate what it was he'd last done wrong. Whatever his faults, Blaise felt Snape had been a better teacher than Slughorn. Or at least Blaise had found it. . . if not easy to learn from him, somewhat simpler at least.
Today though, he had slightly less acceptable subject matter. It had. . . not bothered him, per say, but Blaise had disliked having to oversee the detentions in the past that made use of the blood quill. He had no intention of not seeing through on them, when he was told to. Blaise wasn't unwise enough to draw attention to his less than enthusiastic support of the IS and their sponsors. But blood quills had to have been in use in the past. Perhaps there were some more specific healing charms designed to aid in the scarring. Blaise was no healer, but if he found some trace of such a spell, it shouldn't be too difficult to leave it where one of the chronic detentionees would find it, and then they could make use of it, perhaps, and no one be the wiser.
If asked, he could simply say he was researching an essay, but Blaise kept his ears open as he read though, just in case, and had tucked himself away in a rear corner of the library where he was unlikely to be spotted. There was no harm in being careful.