MAGIANIMA // Hermione Granger

No You're Not

Deeper and deeper the words in her hand dived, blood seeping from the cracks with every bold stroke, every unwavering letter. The smell of copper, like old knut coins, plagued Atlas's senses, her eyes flickering brightly with every new line while the red that fell from her hand merged the old together. Outside, the wind howled and faint bodies flew the air, Atlas had not watched she had instead heard, listened to her distant teammates as the Quidditch trials persisted through the breezy conditions. But the pains that shot through her hand, up her arm, had her mind ensnared, collapsing in a controlled and agonisingly slow procedure. 

And after holding on, persevering for the past week, continuously scraping words into her own skin, she finally gave and let out a gasp of pain, a solitary tear falling from her eye, down to her chin and then to the parchment, soaking through just as her blood did. She'd pressed too hard, written too quickly and now her hand shook, the quill falling from her fingers as she grasped her wrist within the spasming palm of her left hand. The pain was suddenly unbearable, true agony.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Umbridge picked up the quill, "you have gone far deeper than I could have hoped."

"What did you do?" Atlas asked through gritted teeth, her bleeding hand burning with white-hot pain.

"Oh no, dear, it's not what I have done, it's what you've done to yourself. This special quill of mine isn't made to go quite so deep yet in your determination, you've inflicted quite some damage," Umbridge smiled, grabbing at Atlas's hand and pulling it closer to her, "oh yes, it seems the magic of this quill is harming you quite a bit. Excellent."

She dropped it and Atlas bit back another whine of agony when it collided with the desk.

"You may go now, Atlas. There's no need to come back tomorrow, I seem to have made my point, I hope after this, you'll put Mr Potter on a tighter leash," She smiled, sweetly so that it actually reached her eyes. It was genuine and that made it unsettling. "Oh, and do keep this quiet for now, it'll be our little secret, yeah? Just like old times." Atlas nodded, swallowed thickly and scrambled to her feet, grabbing her bag quickly and hurrying from the room, desperate to put some distance between herself and that vile woman.

Night had fallen by now and the stars shone brightly in the sky, Atlas clutched her hand to her chest and glanced out of every window she passed, silent tears falling from her eyes that started to greatly anger her. It was only the first week of term and she was already tired, her hands already sticky with her own blood, her year already ruined before it could begin. She walked blindly, eyes downcast as she climbed stairs, turned down hallways and pushed out into a nightly breeze. 

The astronomy tower was a lovely place.

She sighed and sat on the edge, looking out and over the Forbidden Forest, watching the Thestrals sore over the trees and listening to the animals and creatures turning in for the night. She turned her eyes to the sky, gazing at the stars, the bright moon reflected in her tears. A shuddering breath left her and she looked at her hand, rummaging through her pocket to grab her handkerchief. The blood had dried, a large clot had formed over the words and stopped the bleeding, so, she wet the cloth and delicately dabbed against the spots that decorated her skin, cleaning it quietly.

By the time she had finished, the wind had slowly become bitter against her cheeks and her hands grew stiff from the cold so she pulled her gloves out of her bag, the ones Hermione had given her those years prior and carefully manoeuvred them over that detentions wound. She winced at the action regardless of how delicate she tried to be, her left hand still spasming at odd instances and her right still shaking from the pain of being gouged into. Not to mention how heavy her movements were. So she ended up jogging the raw flesh quite a bit and hoped it hadn't started bleeding again.