Miss Slytherin

Book 5: Chapter 11

At this point in the early weeks of the school year, every student from every house kept on chanting how much they hated the pink blob. The woman can never earn anyone's trust again, with student's hands now having scars from the blood quill they've been using in their detention, everyone loathed her.

"It's alright," Finley says trying to calm the first year Slytherin down, the little boy was having a panic attack at the sight of blood trickling down his hand. Umbridge didn't let him stop that only had the time run away from the office as soon as he was allowed to. The kid was obvious suffering of hemophobia, and here was the boy's after math.

"Let's wash it off, yeah?" She softly tells him, holding on to the boy's bloody hand with a handkerchief, helping him stand up but the boy fainted. It must've been that severe of a Phobia.

"Can someone help me please!" She yelled out, a disadvantage of being in the isolated corridors of the school. She looks at one of the paintings pleadingly. "Can you please notify someone, I can't help him," she says, the painting nodding before he left his portrait.

Setting the boy on the wall, cleaning up the blood on his hand the best she could, even using her wand to heal it herself but it didn't work.

"Blythe," a voice called to her, she turned to the side and saw Draco along with Crabbe and Goyle tailing behind him. Perhaps this was the other help he got.

"What happened?" Draco asked motioning for the two larger boys to help the first year Slytherin up. His attention turning to Finley who had her hands with a few tiny stains of blood, giving her a new handkerchief to wipe her hands with.

"Take him to the hospital wing, ask for his parents?"

"If we do, Umbridge will read them and never let them out the school premises," Draco explained, as stupid that educational decree was, it was certainly making things a lot harder.

"Tell Snape what happened then!" Finley exclaimed as the four of them scurried to the hospital wing, opening the door to see people in there. Not as crowded than it was in second year during the basilisk attack, but crowded enough to see that Madam Pomfrey was in a panic of a couple of hands short.

"What happened now?" Madam Pomfrey gasped at the sight of the boy in Vincent and Gregory's grasp. The boy was now pale, Finley handkerchief was tied on his bleeding hand that she tried to mend, he looked so weak. "Put him on this bed!"

Finley took a step back, the amount of people in the hospital wing frightened her, victims of that old hag from all those ridiculous educational decrees. She clenched her fist, students being helpless because a teacher was taking advantage of her power as a teacher. This wasn't what school was all about. This was Tyranny.

"Calm down," Draco tells Finley, placing a hand on her clenched fist, trying to uncoil it and stop her nails from digging into her palm. They already had a couple students bleeding, they don't want another one.

Turning to Madam Pomfrey and his two large companions, he nodded towards the boys, placing his hand on Finley's back, escorting her out the Hospital wing. They both don't have class at this hour, he was on prefect duties, while Finley was suppose to be in the library with Theo for their Ancient Runes.

"Where are you taking me?" Finley asks him, genuinely curious, if he was taking her to the dorms he could've said so.

"I'm taking you to Saint Potter—"

"Why?" She raised her brow at him. She knows that Draco hates her brother, for sure and to this day he still does. Now here he was, walking her towards the courtyard where they both could see Harry and Ron talking to one another.