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***
Fleur smiled menacingly as she held me down against the desk chair, and I gulped, looking up at her as Umbridge laughed cruelly. She pushed a piece of paper in front of me with her stubby fingers, and I examined it. It was an expulsion form but with the word fail spelled out in big red letters from one corner to the next. My eyes widened, and Fleur's grip on my shoulder tightened as she glared at the paper. I shot my head up to look at Umbridge in shock as she smiled down at me.
"But I don't understand. How am I expelled?" I cried, and Fleur laughed coldly.
"Because you refused my help, Miss Delacour. You have ruined Hogwarts for all the staff and students, and I tried to help you desperately, but you started to rebel. I will not tolerate bad students at my school," Umbridge said, her voice never losing its peppiness.
"You had one job," Fleur snapped, and I sighed. "You had to go through one last year of schooling without causing any commotion, and here you are!" I cowered into the chair at seeing how deadly Fleur's stare was.
"I'm sorry —"
"Sorry, won't cut it. Mother and Papa will be so disappointed!" Her voice rang in my ears as the surroundings faded into blackness.
***
"Miss Delacour!" Professor McGonagall's stern voice interrupted my dream as I whipped my head up, getting dizzy as I glanced around the Transfiguration classroom. The few people left looked at me bewildered, and I gulped, seeing McGonagall standing above me. I also saw my friends waiting for me at the door, Lee would occasionally whisper things in Fred or George's ears, and they would chuckle. "Care to explain why you fell asleep during my class?' McGonagall asked, and I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat grew dry at a rapid pace.
I gulped down another answer as I sat in silence. McGonagall sighed once she saw me glance over at the remaining students packing up their supplies and ending the day. McGonagall shooed the stray pupils out of the doors, including my friends, as I stayed put, too scared of getting in trouble to move. She sat down at her desk, not waving me over or telling me to leave as well as she folded her hands across the desk.
"Why are you so tired, Miss Delacour?" She asked, and I raised my eyebrows.
"What? I'm not tired," I rushed out, and she scoffed slightly.
"What is making you so tired, Delacour?"
We burned each other's eyes as we never broke our stare. I thought she would glare at me or shake her head in disapproval but she never did. I sighed, I truly didn't want to bring my problems into anyone else's life, especially McGonagall's. It was bad enough that Angelina knew everything that was going on. "I couldn't fall asleep last night," I lied and she narrowed her eyes at me.
"Are you telling the truth, Delacour?" She asked, her tone slow and emotionless. I restrained from biting my lip and nodded stiffly. In reality, I had indeed not gotten much sleep the previous night, but it wasn't because of my inability to fall asleep. I was trying to complete my piles of overflowing homework along with practicing my English. I ended up going to bed a few hours before classes started.
"I'm sorry I fell asleep, Professor. It won't happen again," I choked out.
"It better not. Now go," McGonagall waved me out, and I collected my things, running out the classroom. I almost toppled over at the weight on my right shoulder and the papers slowly slipping out of my arms as I went down the corridors. I had to get a section of my homework done so the incident in Transfiguration wouldn't happen again.
I adjusted my papers and rushed to the Fat Lady, giving her the password and trudging through the buzzing common room. "Nadeleine," George's voice called from a plush chair near the fire. I sighed, looking over to George, who sat alone, Fred nor Lee at his side, which confused me. I walked over to him, looking expectingly.
"Yes?"
"Can I talk to you?" He asked and I raised my eyebrows.
"I really have to finish my assignments —"
"School can wait," he cut me off, and I relaxed, dropping my bag to the floor and letting my pieces of parchment slip from my hands and scatter across the floor. A small glare was in my eyes as I crossed my arms over my chest.
"School can wait," I repeated, and he nodded, standing from his chair and stepping over the pile of my belongings. He placed his hand on my elbow and led me out of the loud common room. He stopped us once we got to an empty corridor, and a flash of Timothée doing this several times crossed my mind, and my anxiety grew.
"What do you need George?" I asked quickly, and he sighed, leaning against the wall behind him.
"I'm just going to ask it because I have to know, and it's not because I don't trust you, but ..." He trailed off, biting his lip. "Are you seeing someone else?"
My eyes grew wide and I blinked a few times. "What?" I croaked.
"Look, it's not that I don't trust you, Nadeleine. I do with all my heart, but it seems lately as if you're hiding something from me. And we're supposed to tell each other everything," his tone was flat, but his eyes were craving for honesty, practically pleading for it. My throat went dry, and I took a step back.
"That last part made you sound a lot like —"
"Hey," he interrupted my statement, and I gulped. "I'm not him. I just want the truth. Are you cheating on me?"
"Why would you think that?"
"Answer my question, Nadeleine."
"Why would you think that, George?"
"Please just answer —"
"George!"
George sighed and glanced at the ground. "Because you're ... well, Nadeleine. You're beautiful, smart, caring, and funny, and I'm me. The class clown and the boy who can't even outshine his twin," he muttered, and my mouth fell open in shock, tears clouding my eyes.
"George —"
"Please, answer the question," George begged and looked up, seeing my tears.
"No," I said, my voice cracking as I stepped closer, grabbing his hand.
"Then why are you ashamed of our relationship? You spend more time at the library than with your friends," he squeezed my hand as his own tears built up. I sniffed and wiped under my eyes. I have got to tell him, and it's not as if telling him would make me stop any interactions with Umbridge. I'm such a hypocrite.
"I'm not studying, George," I said, and he furrowed his eyebrows. I took a deep breath, clutching his hand tighter. "I am taking voice lessons with Umbridge."
His face told me everything he thought as we stared at each other. I didn't want to speak but knew I would have to be the first one, "she is helping me talk clearer. That's all she's doing, George, and I consider it a benefit for everyone."
"This is why you've been so tired, hasn't it? You can't manage the lessons with your homework. Was it Umbridge who warned you about affection too?" I stayed silent, and he groaned as he let go of my hand and ran a hand through his hair. "Nadeleine," he barked, and I flinched.
"What is so bad about this? I don't get it. Angelina said the same things —"
"Angelina knew? She knew, and she didn't say anything? She didn't help you? She didn't try to stop this?" He hissed.
"George —"
"The bad thing is that you're letting someone as worse as Umbridge get under your skin and dictate you. You are going to stop these lessons, alright? Not for me but for yourself," he demanded, and I gulped, shaking my head. "Nadeleine," he warned.
We looked at each other for a minute before I gave in. I sighed, nodding as he smiled softly. He brought me into a hug, kissing my cheek. "I'm so sorry for accusing you of such a dreadful thing, and you didn't deserve that," he whispered, and I gripped him tighter.
