Forever Riddle (Willow style) DISCONTINUED || Harry Potter ||

10-Detention with Dolores

At five o'clock, I approach Umbridge's office, Hermione's Good Luck not managing to remove my sense of foreboding.

I knock, and she opens the door. I nearly shudder in disgust at they way she's decorated, but I notice with some satisfaction that she's still not wearing pink, and the brown really doesn't suit her.

"Come in, we are still waiting for Mr Potter." She seats me on a single desk, and I notice a pair of unusually sharp-looking quills on her desk.

"That's illegal!" I burst out. "Blood quills are illegal except for official documents!"

"I'll thank you not to speak in detention Miss Riddle."

I sit.

I switch.

"Miss Riddle?"

"Yes Professor?" I am sat down now, waiting in silence.

"Did you touch my quills?"

"No Professor."

She leans over me and speaks directly into my face. "Lying is bad, Miss Riddle. Lying will get you into more trouble."

"I didn't do it. Nobody saw me do it. You can't prove anything." I say quietly but firmly.

And try as she might, she can't pin it on me. She replaces my sugar quills though.

Just then a knock on the door announces Harry's presence.

"Come in!"

He enters, and is seated across from me.

"Now, you're both going to be doing lines for me today." So they're not permanent quills? Shit.

Permanent blood quills leave permanent scars that don't fade. They are banned.

Non-Permanent blood quills take around twenty-four hours of constant writing to achieve the same result.

"Not with your quill, Mr Potter." She interrupts him as he reaches into his bag. "You two will be using some special ones of mine."

I take the quill with a slight thrill of fear. I pick up the quill, and notice that the nib is greenish rather than the usual gold.

"What do you want us to write?" Harry asks.

She smiles happily. "I want you to write 'I must not tell lies'."

"How many times?"

"Let's say, as long at it takes for the message to sink in."

I put the quill to the page and begin.

I must not tell lies.

The first time is the worst, I remind myself as the words had appear on the back of My right hand, cut into my skin as though traced there by a scalpel - yet even as I stare at the shining cut, the skin heals over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before and slightly more painful.

I must not tell lies

I must not tell lies

I must not tell lies

I must not tell lies

And, again and again, the words are cut into the back of my hand, heal, and reappear the next time I set quill to parchment.

Darkness falls outside Umbridge's window. I do not ask when we will be allowed to stop. I do not even look up. I know she is watching us for signs of weakness and I am not going to show any, not even if I have to sit there all night, cutting open my hand again and again...

"Come here, Miss Riddle" she says, after what seems hours.

I stand up. My hand is aching and throbbing. When I look down at it I see that sometime in the last hour, the cut has stopped healing, and the skin around it is red raw.

"Hand," she says.

I hold it out, and she examines it. "Now, that seems to have made a good impression hasn't it Miss Riddle?"

I don't reply, and when she doesn't speak, I pick up my bag and leave, switching one of the cat plates on the walls for a crazy dog that will chase the cats.

Smiling, I stand outside the classroom to wait (Her office is in the classroom) for Harry.

The light isn't that good out here, and I can't see very well. My hand is throbbing.

Why haven't I healed it yet?

I reach for my wand, but I'm sitting on it, with no energy to move.

What. Why am I sitting?

I look more closely at my hand, and I still can't see it properly in this light. Something touches my shoulder and I flinch, then turn.

".... you alright? Eva can .... Me?" The boy is saying.

"Speak louder." I try to say, but my lips are so tired and I can't speak properly.

"Eva! No..... sleep!" Why can't I sleep? I'm so

So Very

Tired

W h y

can't I

sleep?

A/N

I'm sorry! Don't kill me!

It's all part of the plan. It's meant to happen.

Eva is NOT DEAD. She's not gonna die... happy?

I wouldn't kill her...

Not when there's so long to go...

-FLO