DARK SOULS ☽ 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚏𝚘𝚢

𝔵𝔵𝔦𝔳 | fifth year

The first day of Defense Against the Dark Arts is... interesting. Professor Umbridge thinks that the class is supposed to be used to suppress our abilities to defend ourself against the dark arts. The Ministry's involvement with Hogwarts is out of control, and I can already see it.

As Professor Umbridge rambles on about the how the Ministry has the situation of You-Know-Who under control, and that nothing is happening, Harry suddenly speaks out, "That is a lie!"

She looks taken aback, smiling evilly at Harry, "Mr. Potter, you have just landed yourself in detention!" Harry looks like he's trembling with rage, trying to keep the words that want to spill out of his mouth in.

"So according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead, or are you calling me a murderer?!" He shoots back at the woman, and I catch Malfoy's eye as he smirks.

"That boy's death was a tragic accident," Umbridge raises her voice in anger.

"He was murdered!" Harry shouts one last time, "by Voldemort." Everyone gasps. Umbridge gives him a curt look, then continues on with the lesson as if nothing happened.

I respect Harry for that, because I can't see why everyone else just believes Cedric's death was an accident. The way Harry reacted... it was just too much to handle.

We need to bring him justice.

"You're just going to ignore him?" I speak up, leaning back in my seat. Draco looks over at me, his eyebrow raised, but I can tell he's impressed, "Harry saw what actually happened and you think he's not telling the truth? Why would even lie about that?"

"Young lady!" Umbridge turns around to meet my eyes, I roll up them, "You've just earned yourself detention with Mr. Potter." I glance to Harry, and his expression is emotionless, staring straight ahead.

Draco chuckles from my left and Umbridge eyes him angrily, warning detention if one more person steps out of line.

We meet eyes again, his icy grey irises glinting with a laugh.

Something in me wishes he had gotten a detention too, just so that we could be together.

❂

Later, I follow behind Harry to Umbridge's office. She took away twenty points from both our houses for "lying." I can't even comprehend why Dumbledore would allow this woman into our school, but I'm assuming that the Ministry is behind it.

Filch, who seems to be under Umbridge's tutelage, has started nailing up signs that ban student activities. The whole school seems to be under a dictator.

Harry arrives before I do, and as I open the door, Umbridge barks at me, "Larkspur, you were a minute late. That will be one more line for you."

"Line?" I question, and she hands me a quill. Harry looks at me pleadingly. He looks in pain. I raise an eyebrow to question.

"You'll be writing lines for me today," She chuckles, an annoying high-pitched warble that reminds me of Pansy. Disgusting, "Write 'I will not tell lies' until I tell you to stop."

"Where is the ink?" I ask, looking at the white feather quill.

"Oh you won't need any ink with this quill," She smiles evilly, "It's a special quill."

Harry continues his lines and I start writing. The second the quill touches the paper a sharp pain comes from my hand. I let out a sound like a hurt animal. The back of my hand has been carved into.

"What the hell?" I scream, "You're a monster?" I shout at her. She crosses her arms, angry.

"That'll be some more lines for you, Larkspur." She laughs.

"I'm not doing any of your lines," I look to Harry, and he nods, "I'll go straight to Dumbledore."

She leans forward at her desk, and her door locks magically, "You will finish your lines."

❂

Harry and I stumble out of her office together, both rewarded with bloody letters on the backs of our hands.

"What the hell do we do about that," I say to Harry. My head spins from the blood I lost. I feel like I'm drunk, stumbling down the halls, "She can't get away with it."

"She will. She's got the Ministry backing her," he mumbles, looking concerned, "McGonagall told me. Dumbledore can't do anything about it."

I want to curse and scream. My hand hurts so badly. Fear fills the halls of this school. Everything feels like it's gone wrong.

Harry and I split apart, heading the separate ways to our common rooms. Right before I enter mine, clutching my hand, Draco comes around the corner.

I groan, quickly saying the passcode and opening the door with my good hand.

"Why are you walking around like you've just drank a potion that's gone off," he says, laughing as my feet trip over themselves on the way into the common room.

"Nothings happened." I respond, embarrassed, trying to hide my hand.

He looks confused, watching me hide my hands behind my back, "Show me." He demands. I blink hard as spots implode in my vision. A drop of blood drips from my hand to the floor, "Is that blood?"

I hold out my hand reluctantly, releasing the pool of blood that has collected from clenching my hand. He looks shocked, "It was just Umbridge."

"Bloody hell." He moves closer to take my hand in his. My heart jumps to my throat as he examines the bleeding words on the back of my hand. Pain shoots through it as he rubs his hand against the letters, "It's not that bad, Y/N."

"Oh, shove off." I roll my eyes, but Draco laughs. I'll never understand this boy's humor.

"Sorry," he presses his lips together, "It is pretty bad, but I'm getting pretty good at the Bandaging Charm."

"Are you sure?" I look at him, skeptical, "I don't want it to end up worse."

"You doubt me?" He questions, and pulls his wand out of his pocket. My feelings for him don't let me object to him performing a spell on me. He strongly speaks in a hushed voice, "Ferula."

A bandage wraps itself around my hand, and the pain eases a bit, I whisper, "Thank you."

"No problem," he stands up, "Next time don't get a detention." He walks into the boys dormitories, picking his books up from the couch.

I look at my bandaged hand, then back up to his blonde head disappearing into the boys dormitories. My head spins. I can't even figure out how he feels for me. 

Maybe nothing.