SMILE » n. longbottom

xlvii

"I MUST NOT TELL LIES"

It was way too late for the two of them to be out of their own dormitories; but considering that they had just exited the horrid event that will yet to be known as detention, as so generously provided by Professor Umbridge; they had just one exception to be out. The two clung at their arms and walked bristly, and also trying to avoid the main halls and avoid making a clamor of noise.

This, they had concluded to: was to be kept a secret, or atleast until Professor Umbridge leaves.

Afterall, what good would it do if Professor Umbridge had figured out that they had revealed what she had done? She might hurt both of them more and more until this had became one of their regular agendas, like a final class. Alana knocked at the large wooden doors of the Hospital Wing, at first she contemplated whether or not Madam Pomfrey would appear. After another knock and a few seconds later, the door creaked open slightly, and out poked a Madam Pomfrey with her wand that emitted a dim white light from its end, "Why are you two here this late? What's the matter?" she asked curiously.

The Hufflepuff girl started to tear up and she slightly folded her sleeve over and reveal one of her arms. The matron gasped silently and pulled them inside of the Hospital Wing, closing the door behind. She ran to retrieve a healing ointment that would heal this. "We're so terribly sorry for bothering you this late, I was not certain about whether or not you were here," Alana had whimpered, hiccuping every so often.

"Oh, that's alright. I had not realized what a dire situation you had been in," the matron called, running over to her at a quick pace. "If you need anyone to talk to, Miss Alana, you can always talk to me or any person in the Hogwarts staff."

"Not every person in the staff ... Wait," she thought for a moment. Had Madam Pomfrey been suggesting something else other than what had happened? She looked to Madam Pomfrey who had been struggling to open the container, "You think I did this to myself?"

"Who had then, Miss Alana?"

"Professor Umbridge, madam, it was detention that had done this to us," Alana pulled up both of her sleeves to reveal the scratches in both of her arms. The Hufflepuff motioned for Harry to do the same, which he did, "We don't want any of the other students to know of this nor for this to happen again, madam. We just want this fixed."

Madam Pomfrey opened the container hastily and rubbed ointment on both of their arms. It looked as thought the matron had becoming a lobster since her skin turned a frighteningly pinkish red. "I- I have to do something." The woman ran off, giving no time for Alana to explain nor say anything in addition to what else had happened or how it had happened. The ointment gave both of them a faint smell of mint that overtook their senses. Her arm felt numb as a light pink ink liquid had oozed out of the red words and the carved words disappeared slowly as time passed slowly. The same had happened to Harry, his mouth opened ajar like a bottom-feeder, he had been astounded at this.

"Is this going to happen every time in detention?" He had asked once he had built up the courage to do so. The boy looked down at his arms and stared at the red liquid, of course it had been his blood, it dripped out of the words that had been there and down his arm. She had been wondering the same thing of course, but she had not known the answer to Harry's question. She shook her head suddenly, and opened her mouth as if to say something: but only a silent croak let out. Alana closed her mouth, and looked about the room.

Alana had almost forgotten where Madam Pomfrey had stored the napkins, until she had seen the storage container made of a grey glass. The girl walked over and took a couple of napkins, careful not to stain her Hufflepuff robes with the blood that ran down her arms. She returned to Harry and handed him a few.

With a bang, the doors to the Hospital Wing swung opened: presenting Professor McGonagall who wrapped herself with a robe. It was noticeable that she was wearing a long simple nightgown underneath of it. She was furious. Her jaw was tightened more than usual, and she cared about Alana — especially due to her previous condition. And Umbridge had done this. Madam Pomfrey followed the lady further back, careful not to be the victim of an outburst.

Once Minerva McGonagall had reached where the two students sat, she looked at their arms which they had no time to tend to. She gasped, "She did this to you both, Miss Alana Wallace and Mister Harry Potter?" the girl nodded very slightly and returned her vision to her arms, wiping the red liquid with the napkin she had received from one of the Hospital Wing's storage container.

"She did, Professor," Harry had spoken out, he cleaned his arm as well as Alana, "This happened in detention. At first — I thought that it was going to be like any other detention, but she had these quills that required no ink. And once I wrote my first line I had realized that the ink that the quill used was my blood." Professor McGonagall turned a red color and hissed a short burst of breath out of her lungs, in anger against the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

She breathed a few breaths again before coming to a conclusion, "I cannot bring you the justice or protection that you two request, I'm terribly sorry." Minerva McGonagall sighed deeply, turned her head, and left the Hospital Wing into the darkness of the Hogwarts School's hallways.