Elara Malfoy

04

Umbridge's office was cold that night as I opened the wooden door, a draft making its way into the corridor. I was not looking forward to her detention tonight. However, as long as it kept Harry away from the pink troll, then I could handle a few hours locked in a room with her.

    Umbridge was sitting at her desk with that sickly sweet smile on her face. My heart was racing so fast inside my chest I was sure that she would be able to hear it from where she sat a few feet away.

    "Good evening Miss Malfoy, please take a seat."

    My teeth gritted together at the sound of her high pitched voice. The letter tucked into my bag felt as heavy as a brick and the way she looked me up and down made me feel as though she knew exactly what lay inside the burlap. Thank Godric it hadn't been a Howler, but the one line written on the parchment in my fathers neat handwriting was enough to set off all the alarms in my body.

                    You are a disgrace.

    There would be no mercy or forgiveness for me if my actions at Hogwarts affected my fathers job at the ministry. If Umbridge reported to anyone there that the eldest Malfoy child was disrespectful, disobedient, and disruptive towards an appointed ministry official my father might actually kill me the next time he gets his hands on me.

    Sitting in the single desk across from Umbridge I watched as she stood from her chair and made her way towards me. In her hand was the same quill I had seen the night previous although this time its container was empty.

    "Here you are Miss Malfoy. This is a very special quill that you will be using tonight.", Umbridge said.

    "What would you like me to write Professor?", my voice was surprisingly calm as I spoke.

    "How about, 'I must not disobey' as many times as it takes for the message to sink in.", she was still smiling and I cringed at the giggle she released before turning back to her desk.

    I knew that there was no avoiding it any longer. It was time to start writing. The initial itching was almost immediate. It felt as though I had an insect on the back of my hand that I couldn't get off. It increased gradually; moving from an itch to a burn as I watched the red lines begin to carve themselves into the back of my hand. The tears that sprang to my eyes could not be helped either as much as I wished they would stay away. I didn't want to give Umbridge the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I won't let her win. I won't let my father win.

    By the time I am finally allowed to leave over an hour later the lines on my hand are deep enough that I know they will scar. Part of me wants to go to the hospital wing if only to stop the stinging. But if I did that there would be questions and I couldn't afford any more attention on me right now. Instead I just made my way back to the common room and tried to hide the few tears I had let leak out on the walk down.

    Stepping through the portrait I was hoping everyone would have gone to bed already. Curfew was soon so maybe I would get lucky. I was not. Sitting around and occupying the couch and armchairs in front of the fire, a gaggle of Gryffindors sat discussing their days. Fred and George were facing each other in opposite armchairs. Katie was on the floor in front of where Angelina sat, Angie braiding the girls hair. Hermione and Harry were sitting on the floor in front of the fire, Hermione with a book in her hand. Lee and Ron were both asleep on the couch next to Angie and I couldn't help but smile at the sight of Lee slumping over on Rons shoulder in his sleep.

    Making my way over I stopped next to George's armchair. He looked up at me with a soft smile that set off the butterflies in my stomach once more and shoved himself up against one of the arms. The others all called out their greetings as I settled myself in the chair with George, one of my legs flung over his. I could see Harry glancing at my red hand, guilt shining in his green eyes. Shifting slightly so that both my legs were tucked up over George's and blocking my hand, I sent him a smile.

    Fred was animatedly telling a story about how he swears he saw Snape in a pink sweater once in his second year. My attention however was diverted when George placed one of his large hands on my thigh. Glancing over at him he was already staring at me.

    "You okay?", his voice was quiet so as not to draw attention to us.

    Knowing my voice would break I just nodded and did my best to smile. I knew he wasn't totally convinced but for now he let it go, simply rubbing his thumb across my jean covered leg. Today had not started off as a very good day but right now, surrounded by my best friends and with George whispering jokes in my ear, at least the day had ended on a good note.

    Nobody could touch me here. Not Umbridge, not my father, not even You-Know-Who. I was safe here with my family. The one that I had found all by myself and I never planned on letting go. We all knew that the world as we know it was balancing on a very dangerous ledge. War was on the horizon and we were caught in the middle of it.

    But right here, right now, we were nothing more than a bunch of kids. Safe and sound. And loved. So much love between us that no darkness could penetrate the four walls of our home that we had built in this common room. It was with these thoughts and a warmth in my chest that I fell asleep in the arms of the boy I was slowly falling for.