I was quietly seething.
My insides were twisting with a hurtful truth that only I knew, and I intended to keep it that way. I basked in silence as my other best friends, Ron, Hermione, and Harry confided in Harry's most recent events.
But before Harry had come into the common room, it was only Ron, Hermione and I here. We sat in the best seats in the common room next to the fire. Hermione was writing what I thought was an unnecessarily long letter, I was practicing my newest transfiguration charm that was troubling me today in McGonagall's class while Ron was looking over my potions homework. He was having trouble with his so I was allowing him to copy some of my details. Naturally, he went to ask for Hermione's first, but she refused. And surprisingly, tonight I didn't mind so I loaned him mine. Usually I'd take a page from Hermione's book and tell him to do his own work.
She rapped on me of course. Saying that it was about time that Ron learned how to handle his own studies and I shouldn't be babying him. O. actually are right around the corner.
"I'm not 'babying' him;" I started. "I'm just tired of hearing him whining. And besides, it's not like I allow him my homework every night." I said deflated. I wasn't in the mood for an argument, but it was normal to see Hermione react like this.
"Honestly Ron, five years of me telling you to do your own work, and some of us would think that I would have annoyed you into doing it on your own by now!" Hermione said with her face down towards the extremely long letter she was writing.
"Actually, you have annoyed me-" Ron started, but I stopped him immediately. I knew the next thing out of his mouth would be the start of an unnecessary row between him and Hermione, and I was not up for hearing the lot of it.
"Don't. Don't. DONT. I know where you're going with it, and I don't want you to go there, so just stop it." I said with my fingertips to my temples and my eyes gazing blankly into the fire.
Silence swept over us, but not before Hermione shot a reprimanding look at Ron.
Harry came in through the portrait hole about five minutes later. I was the first to see him come in and I watched him come across the room toward us. He had somewhat of a distant gaze on his face, as if he'd just been in a trance. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, but he didn't notice.
"What kept you?" Ron asked, as Harry sank into the armchair next to Hermione's. He didn't respond.
"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked, concerned about our friend's muted state. He gave what looked like a halfhearted shrug.
"What's up?" Ron said, now hoisting himself up on his elbow from the carpet. Harry stayed silent, not looking at any of us. Something in the back of my mind kind of knew what was on Harry's mind, but I didn't want it to be true. And before I thought about what I said next, before I immediately regretted after I said it, I was the one to ask,
"Is it Cho? Did she corner you after the DA meeting?" I said this before I could stop myself.
His answer was what I feared. After the secret Defense Against the Dark Arts meeting we had tonight, I saw Harry stay behind with his crush Cho Chang in the Room of Requirement while everyone else was set to leave. I remember looking longingly at them-at him, really. Jealousy coursing through me like an ice cold dagger jabbing at my insides. I was sulking as I walked up to the common room earlier.
And then Harry confirmed my fears. He nodded. That same icy dagger jabbed at my stomach again, and I now felt horrible. Ron and Hermione threw questions at him for a moment and I stopped listening. I let my guard down for a moment and allowed my tear ducts to sting threateningly as I looked down into my lap. No one noticed.
"Did you kiss?" Hermione asked briskly. My head snapped up almost as fast as Ron sat up, knocking over his ink bottle in the process. My stinging tears stopped immediately.
"Well?" Ron demanded from Harry's silence.
Harry looked between us all and nodded. It was as if my heart dropped to my stomach, bringing me down to a slouch.
"Ha!" Ron barked, punching the air and burst into a fit of laughter and Harry smirking. Hermione shook her head at Ron and went back to her letter.
Then, Harry, Hermione and Ron spent the next few minutes discussing the details of Harry's wet snogging with the crybaby Cho, and how horrible it must've been for her because she felt guilty about liking Harry when her last boyfriend, Cedric Diggory, died just last year on Harry's account. And it seems like she still had feelings for the poor lad.
I sat and listened. Seething bitterly at my own pity because I was too scared, too afraid of confess to Harry how I felt about him. We've all been friends for so long. And I was unsure about feeling this way, and unsure about whether or not Harry would feel the same way about me. I can't find the nerve to come out with it, and I was terrified of feeling like fool if I did and his feelings for me weren't mutual.
So here I am. Silently glowering in envy towards a girl who wasn't afraid to tell Harry how she felt about him. And on top of that, he felt the same. She got to be his first kiss. I ended up feeling like a fool anyways.
I've always wondered if my first kiss would with Harry or not... From the looks of things, I guess not. He seems to have enjoyed the company of Cho's lips on his. Even though it seems like it was an awkward moment. When Harry explained how she was crying all over him, he said the only way he comforted her was by patting her on the back.
Hermione looked extremely annoyed, and I couldn't help but let out a scoff of laughter. I quite enjoyed that. The first thing I've said this entire time. They all looked at me.
"I'm sorry," I lied, trying to suppress more laughter. "but is that honestly the best you could do?"
"Well, I was sort of-stuck! I didn't know what to do!" Harry stammered.
"Yeah, what should have he done, Grace? You're awfully quiet. You usually have all the answers." piped Ron. He called me on my bluff. "Tell us; what would you do if you were Harry at that time?"
"I wouldn't have patted her back as if she were a baby that needed to burp, I know that much. I would have given her a hug she so desperately and obviously needed." I answered, still not looking at them. Even though I was writhing on the inside, I still had to put up a front to make it seem like nothing he just said bothered me.
So they talked about Harry and Cho's next meeting, outside of D.A meetings. Something about taking her on the next Hogsmade trip as a date. That'll fall on Valentine's Day. I continued to spew jealousy on the inside. But I still looked around at them as they conversed so it looked like I actually wanted to be a part of the conversation. I really wanted to rudely excuse myself off to bed and cry into my pillow.
There was actually a time where I tried to deny my feelings for Harry in our third year. That was a good one. Lying to myself into thinking that it was just a façade, that I was just suffering through a phase because I hung around Harry Potter just a little too much. Then I came to a conclusion that it wasn't a phase, and that it was more than just a crush. No Grace Sinclair, you have fallen for Harry Potter. And you are now stuck with no choice other than to hide your feelings in secrecy for the last bit of dignity you have for yourself. You're already ready to cry over him, the least you can do is do it in private.
And so I did.
After Harry continued in his minor state of euphoria while talking about Cho Chang, we finished and went off into our separate dormitories. I walked up the narrow stone staircase behind Hermione in silence as we walked into our darkened room and sat our things apart and prepared for bed.
"Goodnight." I said at last drawing the blood-red satin curtains of my four-poster bed and sank into my comforter and pillow and stared up into the darkness. I breathed deeply as I felt sadness washing over me, and pressed my hands to my face allowing silent jerks of crying into my palms. I inhaled a shuddering breath through my nose, which I felt like it was a mistake. My nose was running, so breathing in through my nose sounded like I had a cold. I stopped for a moment, because I knew Hermione wasn't asleep yet, and steadied my breathing through my mouth.
And just I had feared, she heard me sniffle. Hermione gently slid my curtains back and poked her head of bushy brown hair into my bed space. I quickly dragged my hands across my face wiping the tears away as I turned away from the opening of my curtain.
"What do you want?" I said in a stuffy voice.
"Grace... Are you alright?" she inquired carefully. "Why are you crying?"
"I'm not crying?" I shot back at her, still not facing her. "What the bloody hell makes you think I'm crying?" I said through tears. It seemed almost impossible to hold them back now and I cursed myself for not being able to. I felt her gently sit on the side of my bed, hitching my blanket back slightly.
"Oh Grace... I knew something had been wrong." she placed her hand on my side, attempting to comfort me. "Is it because... of Harry?"
I didn't respond. I cursed inwardly again towards Hermione. Cursed her for knowing me too well to misunderstand my feelings. "Oh Grace, I know how hard that was then. Goodness, you don't have to hide from me! It's alright." she tried to tug at my shoulder, but I would not budge. I kept allowing my tears to slide sideways to my pillow.
"At least you don't feel as stupid as I do." I confessed, finally.
"Why would you ever feel stupid?"
"Because of the way I'm getting all.. FUSSED up about Harry! As long as ive known him, I sat here and watched him have a go for someone else. I was too scared and too stupid."
"Just because you were afraid of what might happen if you told him, doesn't make you stupid. So stop saying that. And there's no such thing as I don't feel the same way..." she finished.
I finally turned to look at Hermione and saw her face gently glinting in the moonlight.
"Don't tell me you fancy Harry too?" I said half joking.
"No, oh goodness no!" she waved immediately. "But of it makes you feel any better, I've been unfortunate enough to say that I might... Have feelings for Ronald." she looked down at my comforter and turned pink under the moonlight.
I stopped to look at her and sat up saying, "Why are we both falling for these dung-bags?" I was now whisper-yelling.
Hermione laughed while covering her mouth, trying to keep quiet. "I wish I only knew," she said through a fit giggles.
"For how long?"
"How long have I fancied Ronald?"
I nodded.
"I guess... I guess after I realized he fancied me a bit first last year. After trying so hard to make me jealous around time for the Yule Ball."
"But you hated when he tried to make you jealous."
"Yes, but I also found it quite flattering that he was trying so hard. And he still makes a fuss about me keeping contact with Viktor after all this time."
"He's just upset his letters from you aren't as long."
Hermione and I shared another quiet giggle.
"That's true. And I'm not even entirely sure when he's gonna come up about it. I mean, nothing's really changed, has it?"
"I guess not." Talking to Hermione about her feelings for Ron made me feel slightly better, even if it didn't change anything between Harry and I.
"Like I said, I know you don't like any of these feelings." she said after a brief silence. "You're not one to come off super emotional."
"You're damn right."
"So I know you'll get past this. And who knows; maybe Cho and Harry don't work out. Maybe she's not everything he thinks she is."
When Hermione said this, this gave me a glint of hope. Maybe she was right. Maybe all I had to do is wait it out for something to go wrong and then I can make things right...
...but then doubt and uncertainty washed over me again.
"But what if I do tell Harry about how I feel. What am I supposed to do if he never felt the same? Or if he does. . . give me a try, and then he realized he made a mistake? What if he hates me as anything more than a friend. . . ?"
"He won't hate you. Harry could never hate you. You're Harry's best friend, you have something with Harry Cho will NEVER have. Maybe if things go south with them. . . maybe he'll appreciate someone close to him to be. . . even closer." This REALLY made me optimistic.
Hermione had an AMAZING point.
I truly did have something with Harry Cho didn't have. Five years of friendship. And along with that friendship, we've ALL been through so much with Harry. The adventures we've endured, the danger we've faced together within Hogwarts. I'll do anything for Harry, and not just because I fancy him. And I know he'd do the same for me.
After Hermione helped me over my green monster that night, I've laid off the negative feelings for a while, finding other things to think about. Like looking forward to our secret Defense Against the Dark Arts meetings because our class lessons were horrid with that pink cow of a Professor, Umbridge.
Harry often has a hard time keeping his temper with her, and she punishes him so severely. Today in her class, I could understand how he couldn't hold his tongue for I found myself inable to hold mine.
The class was engrossed in the assignment. I was growing restless with the inactivity in class and chapter 4 on the stunning jinx did not seem worth my time. Not being able to practice with our wands in class was a waste of an hour that could be dedicated to something worthwhile. This is why we meet in secret to practice spells and jinxes such as these; because we're not getting the hands-on practice we need during lessons. I had already mastered the stunning spell because of our secret meetings, but more importantly, because of Harry.
I was sitting there next to Harry at our pair of a desk, and he too looked rather bored. He was pretending to read the passage, but I had completely refused to even attempt to look at the page. I was leaning heavily on my elbow, staring around the room trying to find something interesting other than Harry to observe. I thought about our visit to Hogsmade and what I was going to do with Ron and Hermione until noon. Harry would be on a date with Cho, and so he wouldn't coming along .
"Is there a problem, Miss Sinclair?" Umbridge said breaking the silence across the room.
"No problem at all. Miss. Umbridge." I said in a flat sarcastic tone.
"Then you should have no problem learning how to behave in a classy manner within my lesson without slouching or with paying attention to the task at hand. The example you set for yourself and yourself is key, and you are doing a poor job of it. Five points from Gryffindor." she said in her authoritive, bubble gum manner from behind her desk. I took her statement as a personal insult, and something instantly flared within me that prompted me to retaliate.
"Well then you should have no problem with preparing a proper lesson for an unclassified student such as myself. Set a better example for me to be a better example."
She opened her mouth to reform and speak over me, but I didn't allow it. I spoke over her words and hadn't caught a word she said. "You are the teacher, correct? Or are you incapable of stooping any lower to match my standards?" I snarled from my seat as she turned a shade of magenta, as her boiling point reached surface. The class spread with surprise and a few "ooo's" because of my act of boldness. Hermione gasped my name in a whisper trying to get me to stop. Everyone knew just about what Umbridge was capable of. She looked as if she were forcibly containing herself from an outburst on me, but she let out a shuddering exhale and merely smiled.
Harry had grabbed my arm in warning while I was lashing out. I was so angry that I hadn't noticed until I was finished. I glanced at him for a brief second before Umbridge continued.
"I think 3 days worth of detention would suffice so you may see were the standard of my lessons lie. And that is PROFESSOR Umbridge to you." she said with a conniving grin. I stared at her with such hatred that I wished to ignite a fire on that curly nest of a head with only my sight.
If I were angry enough, I might've made that happen. She just hadn't pushed me over that edge just yet.
"It isn't worth it, just let it-" Harry started but once again I neglected his advice.
"If I were you, she wouldn't have hesitated to give me a week's worth of detention." I said to him, but loud enough so that she could hear me.
"I see that Potter's arrogance has rubbed off onto you so that you desire for a week's worth of detention? Then a week and a half should be lovely!" she twisted her rather short wand in her stubby sausage.
"Absolutely enthralling. Professor." I said with a fierce glare that I refused to break first. My hatred for this woman was now being put up to the test, up to a point where I refused to allow her to see me crack. I've seen what horrible things go into her punishments but she obviously takes pride in finding weakness in her students, and much like Harry she'll never see a so much of a quiver from me, no matter how much pain I may endure.
She let out a peakish girly "hem, hem" of a giggle as the bell rang. I hadn't broken our stare as a thrusted my book into my bag and slung it over my shoulder. I only broke the eye contact when I walked away in a furious fluster.
"ARE YOU MAD?!" Ron and Harry said simultaneously. I took a moment to answer as they, including Hermione, rushed to keep up with my pace.
"Maybe. But it's exactly what she wants," I said coolly as I kept digging my heels into the ground to keep pushing forward faster.
"And that is?" questioned Ron.
"To break her students into submission under her power; under the Ministry's power. And I'll die before I'll let her get the best of me."
"But SHE HAS gotten the best of you." Hermione piped in a worried tone. "Or at least she will when you sit in her room slicing your hand open for hours on end. Now you're taking a page from Harry's book, you can't let her get to you. You've got to learn how to keep your temper. "
"Grace, I know exactly how you feel. It took me months to get it to tolerance with her," Harry chimed finally. I took a moment to look at him as he spoke. Then he went into a bit of a whisper, " the DA is coming along well with the practices. Just hold off on her from now until things finally fall through. Waiting on the Order, or. . . Maybe for the Ministry to come to their senses. But until then, this isn't worth the distress ." he sympathized. I slowed my walk to a halt in the hallway as other students bustled to their next classes. I looked at my friends and realized that there were always times like these where I would lose my head and act senseless, and they would help me so much by bringing me back. I closed my eyes and sighed, and realized I probably chose a wrong time to pick a fight with Umbridge.
"You're all right. I know, I know..." I mashed the hilt of my palms to my eyes in frustration. "it simply disgusts me on how she can get away with this all. She has to know how she that she can't."
"But we all know she unfortunately can." Hermione exasperated. I was once again filled with disappointment for I had scored me a week and a half's worth of torture with Umbridge. Unnecessarily.
Thankfully, Hermione had the Murtlap Essence at the ready when I returned to to the common room every night this week. It is now Thursday, and I was submerging my hand in the thick gooey essence which soothed my cuts immediately. Personalized, it read "I must learn the ways of Hogwarts High Inquisitor with the upmost class." It sealed itself and was healing miraculously with bearly any pain left within the scar.
I was bearly catching up with the homework I had to leave behind while I tortured my self in Umbridge's office. Mostly everyone was gone to bed in the common room. Harry, Hermione and Ron decided to hold off on their homework for a while too, only to be here and keep me company.
"If you all are done with your work, there's no need for you to stay up on my account again. Get to bed. I'll be finished in a moment." I said, looking up from my magic history essay. I noticed how Ron was simply doodling on a spare bit of parchment and Hermione was reading something that had nothing to do with any of our homework.
"Are you sure? We don't mind." Ron said, uncertain.
"Yes, I'm sure. It's not like it's the weekend." I said in a bit of a tired voice. Ron shrugged and bid me goodnight and went up the stairs to the boys dormitory.
"Are you sure you don't need help with anything?" Hermione offered for the third time.
"yes, I'm sure Hermione. Goodnight." and she packed the lot of her things and went up the staircase that led to the girls dormitory, but not before looking over her shoulder at me. It was only Harry and I who remained at the large oak table doing our work, and a couple of second years gossiping over who knows what.
"You don't have to stay here with me either, Harry-"
"I know. I want to." he said reassuringly. His reply caused the corners of my mouth to hitch up into a small grin. With my face burning, I kept my face buried in my textbook from him seeing. "Besides, there's no way I'm going to have time to finish this if I'm to go to bed now. Might as well finish this while there's company." he finished. I nodded slightly in response and continued my essay in silence.
We had been working in silence for another twelve minutes before the last few second years went up to their respective dormitories. It was now just Harry and I working in the common room alone. I was determined to not allow this to go to my head, for we weren't doing anything miraculous. Simply working on my studies with Harry was nothing to be fussed about. I just enjoyed his presence instead this entire time, knowing that it was better than him lying in bed thinking about his date with Cho.
'. . . with the practices of necromancy, or necrophilia, it has become some of the most feared forms of magic in not only Wizarding worlds, but Muggle worlds as well. It has become a symbol of dark magic, and practice's it's magical aspects revolving around death-'
I was interrupted writing my essay with a jolt of anxiousness because Harry had did something very unexpected.
Harry had gently grabbed the hand that was unoccupied by a quill. The one that was scarred with Umbridge's forced message. He examined it, ever-so-lightly dragging his finger tips across the message.
"She's a sick woman, she is." He said sympatheticlike, still examining my hand "I wouldn't imagine her doing something this horrid to anyone else besides me."
The skin where he touched prickled as if he pricked it with a hot needle. I wanted to squirm in his warm sweaty hands but I know that if I did, I would regret it if he let go.
My breathing became slightly shallow as I watched him with a warm gaze hoping that he'd hold my hand forever.
"Wh-what makes you think you're so special? You're not the only one who deserves to be tortured." It was almost hard to speak. Harry smiled halfheartedly at me.
"Like I said before; there's no need in getting you hurt before. It's almost my fault that she's the way she is."
"Don't say that like you were in the wrong for saying the things that are true. She's just a corrupt pawn from the Ministry, it's their fault that she's the power-hungry slime that she is."
"I know, I know. But still." By the time he said this, Harry was still cradling my mutated hand in his. He looked up at me and gave me a soft smile and to my dissapointment, let go of my hand and returned to his studies.
I followed suit and tried to focus to finish my essay. But I was in such a flustered daze that I allowed my conclusion on my essay to fall short of what it needed because my mind was no longer on the Rise and Triumphs of Necrophilia.
I put away my parchment and bid Harry a goodnight without looking at him, and hurried to the stairs that led up to the girls' dormitory.
Two hours so far. Two very, long, strenuous, painful hours of the back of my left hand being cut open and magically healed again. Me knees were weak with fatigue and my stomach clenched with every time another letter was cut.
'I must learn the ways of Hogwarts High Inquisitor with the upmost class. . .'
'I must learn the ways of Hogwarts High Inquisitor with the upmost class. . .'
It was now striking the fourth hour of my last night of detention, and I was becoming restless. As I kept writing, I began to shake with fury as Umbridge sat directly in front of me, sipping slyly on tea and reading the most recent copy of the Daily Prophet, ignoring my writhing.
My face was burning. My hand was searing and my heart was beating fast, exploding inside of me. I stopped writing as sweat beaded along my hairline. Adrenaline was coursing through me as I burned a hole in the front of her desk with my eyesight. Or at least that's what I wanted to do.
This was a mysterious power of mine, and I never knew exactly how to control it, only how to trigger it. I didn't need my wand in my hand at all, all I needed was a great push to make me angry, and then whatever I was focusing on would ignite.
It was truly unexplainable and sometimes dangerous. It scares me a little.
But now, I wished nothing more than to set the him of her pink and purple tweed skirt ablaze and watch her flail and burn.
"I don't believe I've permitted you to stop, Miss Sinclair." she said standing from her desk, and moving around to walk in my direction. I did not move. I only focused on the hem of her skirt and imagined flames spreading across it. "You will stop when I say so. Or maybe you're willing to display a bit of the fashionable class you should have learned. Or are you stuck with that hideous attitude of yours that you call a 'personality'?"
My temples throbbed as I focused as hard as I could on any part of her clothing. My breathing hitched and the magical quill that used my blood as ink was clutched in my fist as I dug it's tip into the wooden desk.
And then it happened.
A gentle smoke began to rise from a flower pot of petunias on a shelf next to a standing frame of one of Umbridge's many cats. The cat jumped to the next frame as the flowers went alit. She opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped with a peculiar expression on her face. She sniffed, and scaled as if she had smelled something foul. It was the smell of her flowers burning. It wasn't the hem of her skirt, but it was something.
"I say, what is that-" she scanned around her room for the source of the strange smell and saw her flowers gradually increasing as a source of light. I was slightly dissapointed that my aim to light a fire with my mind was off, but still pleased that I was still able to do it.
She gasped and gaped at the fire, and whipped her head around to look at me. From the look on her face I know that she accused me immediately.
She whisked from her spot to tend to the fire that was rapidly traveling up her floral walls. She pulled out her short wand, and exclaimed the incantation, "Aguamentae!" a jet of water sprayed the fires, extinguishing them before they could spread her across her entire office. She turned to me looking furious.
"You insolent, little-"
"You don't think that I could have possibly done it-"
"It is only you and I in this room, and I am CERTAIN that I didn't use a pyro-charm to burn my own flowers." she said with a mad look on her face and spoke quickly. "ANOTHER WEEKS WORTH OF DETENTION YOU WILL SERVE."
"Like BLOODY HELL I am." I said standing, swinging my bag over my shoulder and then ripping across her pink carpeted floor to her door which was closed. I swung it open but, magically, the door tried to resist on its own to open all the way. She was trying to keep me locked in.
"Sit. DOWN." she growled as I fought the door with all my might to allow to open just enough for me to slip out quickly to the stairs, skipping two at a time. I heard her billowing after me with her short heels clicking the stone stairs. She was yelling so much nonsense to try to restrain me from walking out the front door, but I was shaking with so much anger that I couldn't comprehend anything that she was saying. All I knew is that she was going to try to stop me from getting out that second door that led out of the classroom.
Just as the standing classroom door began to swing close, I whipped out my wand and yelled "Impedimenta!" bringing the door to a halt. I picked up my pace into a run and hit the door, opening it wider. I was just too quick for her. I made it into the hallway, and She was still yelling behind me. Her short stubby legs were marching furiously after me . I knew if she had caught up with me I would be in her classroom until daylight. So I made a break for it down the hall to the only source of help that I can think of.
It was about eight in the evening and there were still a few staggering students in the halls. I zig zagged through them so she wouldn't keep up. But I'm sure she wouldn't dare jinx me while I was running in the halls.
"I DEMAND YOU TO STOP THIS INSTANT! AS HOGWARTS HIGH INQUISITOR. . ." her voice trailed as I tore around the corner to the hall that led to my Transfiguration class. The back of my left hand was still throbbing as I noticed. I used that hand to push open the wide oak double doors and sped down the aisle of desks to the front of the classroom.
"Professor McGonagall! You have to stop her," I said breathlessly to a startled Professor McGonagall whose face glowered in the low candlelight. She seems as if she were grading papers. She pulled her wired spectacles off her face to inquire me.
"Stop who?" she said. Her tone sounded as if she already knew whom I was talking about.
"UMBRIDGE!" I exclaimed urgently. "she's trying to punish me for something I did not do!"
"What ever do you mean, Miss Sinclair?" I now hightened her interest as she dropped an essay back to her desk. It was rather long, and reminded me of something Hermione would write.
"Well, first she was horribly punishing me for talking back in class. I was serving detention with her for a week and a half. But then, the hours began to get tedious as I was slicing my hand open over and over again and-" I began to stutter as if I didn't understand what I was about to say next. "Her flowers just caught fire! She didn't allow me my wand, so there was NO way I could have done ANY spell myself.-"
Just then Umbridge finally caught up to me, just as I was finishing my story to professor McGonagall. The only reason why I went to her first was because I knew that McGonagall was Umbridge's match. Professor McGonagall is the only person Umbridge does not have under her thumb. As Umbridge burst in the room, she was red in the face and panting heavily. About twice as heavily as I was panting.
"There you are! Running. . . to McGonagall as if. . . As if she is going to be some. . . patron your rescue! You are going to suffer. . . the up most punishment for attempting to burn my office down!" she rapped on me. She came toe to toe with me in front of Professor McGonagall's desk. We would be nose to nose, only if she weren't two inches shorter than I am. She looked like an animal ready to pounce, and so McGonagall grabbed her robes by the hem, and picked them up. She swept around her desk right over my shoulder to make sure that Umbridge did not make a sudden move.
"From what Miss Sinclair has told me, from you not permitting her a wand, it seems as if there is no way that she could have started a fire that from across the room while she was submitting to your most honorable and justified ways of punishment." McGonagall said icily, voice oozing with sarcasm. Umbridge began to stutter, trying to formulate a comeback to justify her accusations that had no evidence. But before she got anything proper out of her mouth, McGonagall continued. I could tell that she was refusing to allow her to say a word. "and it seems like if matters are to be pursued into further acts of punishment, it'll be needed to run by the Headmaster. It is only just to make sure that further actions are satisfactory on all ends. Miss Sinclair," she turned to me as she left Umbridge muted and fuming, mouth opening and closing and looking inbetween McGonagall and I. "we will not need your assistance any longer. Dolores and I will take matters into the hands of the headmaster. You have shared your story with me and I shall share it with him. Goodnight, it's past hours." she finished, turning her back to me. Bursting with jubilee on the inside, I allowed a conniving grin to be shot at Umbridge. I could see her temples pulsing rapidly as I made a swift movement brushing past her, only as slick as I dared. But as I paced away, I couldn't help but to enjoy the end of this conversation.
"I WILL NOT HAVE IT, I TELL YOU! as High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, appointed by the Ministry itself, I demand to see you proper punishment placed upon that skiving disrespectful brat that needs to learn her place-"
"And you may demand whatever you please from the headmaster. But your position only allows so far. So he shall grant you whatever you may demand," McGonagall said coolly. "so as long as HE sees fit."
I couldn't make it to the hallway fast enough so I could snicker all that I want without being heard.
I almost skipped back up to the common room that night, pleased with myself and thanking McGonagall for being the amazing woman that she was. I woke up the next morning a bit later than everyone else, but still in time for a full breakfast. I got dressed in my civilian wear for the weekends and made my way to the common room where Hermione was waiting for me.
"Morning." I said cheerfully.
"Good morning. You're in a better mood this today. Did Umbridge not keep you long?" asked Hermione.
"She did. But something miraculous happened last night." I said dreamily.
"What miraculous thing could possibly happen while with Umbridge?" she said, grabbing her book from the round oak table. We both set off for the back of the portrait hole to make it to the Great Hall.
"I'll tell all of you when we make it to the Great Hall. Where are the boys, anyway?"
"Early before-breakfast Quidditch practice." she said matter-of-factly as we walked down the stone staircases. We approached a platform that had no staircase and we waited for the steps to swivel around from the right.
"Angelina is really taking a page from Wood's book, huh? "
"I suppose so."
We continued our conversation on our way to the Hall and made it there. It seemed to be a very pleasant day, for the sun was shinning over the crisp cold outside and the hall buzzing. Hermione and I sat gossiping over toast, bacon, hash, and eggs waiting for the boys to arrive. I wished that they're practice would end early, because I was bursting to tell the tale of all that happened last night. Obviously, McGonagall was successful with what she told Dumbledore for I hadn't got a notice that I was still going to be punished with what Umbridge tried to accuse me of. At least not yet.
"I mean, my hair is no where nearly as awful at it was two to three years ago. There were times were I allowed my brush to. . . (how should I say this) untame my hair." Hermione said, checking her features a pocket mirror that I let her borrow. I nodded in agreement with my mouth full of food.
I peered at some Slytherin girls who seemed to be talking in hushed tones. It caught my attention because it seems as though that they were looking over at me a few times too many. I stared back to observe. A rather large girl caught my eye, but looked away quickly as if she's been caught doing something she shouldn't be . I furrowed my eyebrows in her direction and then returned my attention to my table. Hermione handed me back my mirror and returned to her own meal. We ate in silence for another ten minutes when the boys finally arrived, looking who looked exhausted and worn in their scarlet and gold Quidditch robes.
"Morning." Harry and Ron said lowly as they took their seats. Ron sat next to Hermione and Harry next to me. I was quite glad.
"Did you have a good practice?" I said warmly to Harry. From the looks on their faces, it looks like their practice had sort of drained them.
"Good," said Harry shortly.
"Horrible." grumbled Ron.
"How so?" Hermione inquired.
"It wasn't that bad, Ron. You're definitely getting better." Harry said trying to convince Ron to stop doubting himself. I've seen Ron practice his role as Keeper, and he seems to have some sort of problem when he knows when people are watching him attempt to keep the other team from scoring. Last practice he allowed every single last shot in.
"I didn't block a shot, "
"You did block at least one or two!" Harry pointed with his fork before he stabbed a clump of eggs. I doubt what he said made Ron feel any better, for Ron kept silent after he gave Harry a disapproving look. Ron kept his face in his food as he nibbled at it slowly.
"Having a little double date, are we?" said a curt voice from the end of the hall. It was Malfoy walking in with his brute crew Crabbe and Goyle. The large Slytherin girl who was Millicent Bulstrode had gone over to them as they walked in. She had a taunting grin on her face as if she had set up a foul plan. The Slytherin lot strode over to where we were sitting and continued to talk. "Sinclair have you finally found the nerve to propose to Potter? Millicent overheard from a few Gryffindor Gossips that you were spilling tears to your pillow the other night for the old git." My heart sank to my stomach, for I wa with the shock of embarrassment. "Allow me to do the honors of uniting you two in holy matrimony," he said now hopping on an empty space on a bench behind him startling a few Ravenclaw students, as if he were about to make an announcement.
"Piss off you filthy snake, you!" stood Ron, who sat on the other side of the aisle. Hermione, who was also shocked into silence, finally found her voice and said, "You evil little cockroach!" she too standing on the other side of the bench. Harry, who didn't seem to find what Malfoy was saying to be true, sat and glared at him.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we of Slytherin house have exciting news to say that we have found the ONE thing that Miss Toughie, Grace Sinclair," he made a hand gesture beckoned towards me."cries over." His posse was cackling with laughter as almost the entire Great Hall turned it's attention towards Draco Malfoy. I lost my temper and scrambled to pull my legs around from under the table and launch myself at him. But before I could wrap my fingers around his neck, I was suddenly yanked back by two pairs of hands. Ron had stepped over breakfast and hopped to Harry's side as they both reached out to grab me by my arms and restrain me.
"Grace, no! You have already been in enough trouble!" said Hermione briskly.
"Yeah, go on Potter." said Malfoy, hopping down from the chair as he continued. "Make sure you put your hands on her in all the right places-"
"What is all of this nonsense?!" said professor McGonagall as she swept down the aisle from the main teacher's table. I had stopped struggling against my friends in a flurry of emotions, chest heaving.
"Grace. . ." Harry said with an almost sympathetic gaze.
Still mortified with embarrassment, I burst into tears and tore away from the commotion and sprinted out of the Great Hall. I could hear snickers from Slytherin as I ripped out around the corner.
I burst into the deserted first floor girls lavoratory, ignoring the sign that read "OUT-OF-ORDER".
Once alone, I circled around the large pillar of sinks in the middle of the bathroom. I stopped once I was behind them, out of sight from the door. I dropped to my knees on the cool tile floor and began to sob.
"How. . ? Who knew that I was crying that night over him? How could this spin so out of control?" I questioned myself in my head as I tried to suppress the sound of my sobbing. I didn't wish to draw anymore attention to myself.
"But who was still awake that night I was spilling my heart out to Hermione? Who was still listening, and why was it being talked about so much that it got to that pig, Millicent Bulstrode?"
The last two questions I asked myself have to be left unanswered, for I could not answer them myself. The thought of Harry finding out like this tears me apart. Now we're both left with conflict; him not knowing what to do with me after things have been all set finely between him and Cho, and me not being able to live with myself because I know he's gonna tell me something that I don't want to hear. Something I intended on avoiding for as long as possible.
I cried for at least two hours, half expecting to be interrupted by Moaning Myrtle. She never came, so I guess she was somewhere amongst the plumbing until I heard a creak of a door.
"Who's there?" I said in a stuffy voice, rising from the tiles. I peered around the corner to the cubicle, expecting Myrtle's shimmering silvery form floating above the second stall. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw a short boy with unruly and untidy hair on top of his head.
Harry stared at me as if he didn't know what to say at first. And then he stuttered, "We-we've been looking for you everywhere."
I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. I didn't want anyone to be looking for me. There was a reason a ran away; to be away from it all.
"I really, really, REALLY wish you'd just go away." I struggled to say through clenched teeth. "Just disappear,-"
"And why would you say something like that? "
"Because I can't STAND for you to look at me right now-" I burst but suddenly stopped myself. I bit my lip in frustration and turned my back on him. I felt him come near me and hesitate to reach out his hand to touch my shoulder. But alas, he did.
He pushed my shoulder around so that I could face him. My face shining with guilty tears as his emerald green eyes glinted on me. There was not one single trace of pity in his eyes, but determination for what he was to say next.
"Why couldn't you just tell me?" he asked, dropping his hand from my shoulder. I hesitated to answer as I averted his gaze.
". . . because I thought it would have been . . . stupid," I muttered. "And of course I was afraid of making things awkward between us. We're so close, but the last time when Ginny fancied you, you kind of strayed away from her."
"I've never had anything against Ginny when she had a crush on me-"
"Yes, but it was obvious that when you didn't feel the same way, you kinda kept your distance. I didn't want to risk that happening to us..."
"Grace, that would NEVER happen between us, and you know that. Ginny's not the same as you, I've never had the same friendship with her as I do with you in the first place." He said sympathetically. With this words, he lifted my spirit slightly.
"What would you have done if I told you in the beginning . . .?" I asked, still afraid of his answer. He was silent when he looked at me, behind his eyes, I could see him mind working to choose the right words to say.
"Well, I know that things would have been a lot different back then." He said quietly, still beaming. His gaze and his words slightly embarrassed me into breaking our stare and looking down at our feet. ". . . And I would have definitely considered. . ." his words trailed off. I looked back up to him now looking down at the space between us. It was now his turn to be embarrassed, and his ears gaining a pink tint.
I knew what he meant. And what he meant sparked a glee within me that made me hopeful. He shuffled once before he looked back up at me.
"And what about now?" I said in a voice that matched his tone and volume.
"I'm definitely still considering." My breathing hitched as he said this. His voice now low and still very between us. I saw his body move ever so slowly and ever so microscopically towards me. He dropped his gaze from my eyes down my face to my mouth and chin area. I seriously hope he wasn't looking at my chin.
"You're considering even while she still fancies you?"
"Who's 'she'?" We were now speaking in a hushed whisper. As if what we were saying needed to be kept secret.
"Cho?"
"Who's Cho?"
His mouth was on mine before I could crack a smile after his words. My heart was pounding with excitement and nervousness. I was immediately lightheaded. I was so dizzy that I began to think that this was all a figment of my delusion. That I had fallen asleep on the tile floor of the bathroom and dreamt this all was happening in my head. The very thing that I've been dreaming of for at least the last three years.
But to my satisfaction, I was pulled out of this skepticism when moved his lips around on mine and grasped my right elbow with a firm gentle hand. I realized that I was holding my breath this entire time and I had a painful urge to gasp for air against his face. I pulled apart from him for a second, eyes heavily lidded, took two breaths before he pulled me back in.
His lips were small, but soft. I was really getting comfortable with myself and began to move my lips faster, competing with him in a way. Who-can-snog-the-other-more-ferociously kind of thing. By this time, Harry had circled his arm around the small of my back pulling me in even closer, and I had my fingers around the back of his neck, scruffing his dark hair between my knuckles. And then, just after I had been bold enough to swipe my tongue across his bottom lip, he abruptly pulled away from me. Feeling flustered, confused and disappointed, I was about to question him what was wrong. But his eyes weren't fixed on me, but something above and behind me.
"Myrtle!"
"So!" She began, looking livid. Her arms were crossed across her shimmery transparentness high above the circular arrangement of sinks. "This is why you haven't come to visit me all this time, Harry!"
"Myrtle—what? No, it wasn't—"
"I guess this was never my cubicle in the first place, now was it! Be my guest to intrude on me and snog where ever you like!"
"It wasn't like that, Myrtle" I began to protest. "I thought you just might've been somewhere like the bottom of the lake or something!" Myrtle gasped at this.
"So that's where you think I belong, is it! At the bottom of the lake with all the grime and bile Hogwarts guts out of its sewers! So that's all I am?! Rubbish that doesn't even belong in a toilet?!" she wailed. I was only trying to defend us and it seems as though I only made everything worse.
"No, Myrtle, that's not what Grace meant—"
"SHUT IT!" she roared as she swooped down in front of us, wafting an icy breeze over us. "JUST LEAVE! GET OUT, AND TAKE YOUR. . . . TROLL OF A GIRLFRIEND WITH YOU!" And without a word, Harry snatched me by my arm and speedily burst through the bathroom doors to the first floor corridor. Once we were clear out of ear shot of Myrtle's bathroom, once her wails went completely mute when we turned up the steps, I finally decided to say something.
"So um, -AHEM-, she most definitely overreacted." I said, stopping alongside Harry as the staircase switched positions.
"Most definitely." He replied. It was evident that Harry and I's make-out session was still heavy on his mind. He wasn't looking at me, but tracing the pattern of the carved stone on the railing of the staircase. I watched him carefully out the corner of my eye, and I noticed that he was doing the same. We finally caught the corner of each other's eyes and gazed at each other again.
"Still considering?" I said as the staircase came to a halt. He and I stepped up to the platform that led to the Gryffindor portrait hole.
"A number of things, yes." His reply worried me a bit.
". . . Such as. . ?"
"Such as how we're going to break this to Ron and Hermione and how I'm going to break it off with Cho." He said simply. My face lit up at him, anything once we had stepped foot into the common room, which was now deserted of everyone. This was unfortunately the time for us to part. But before I bade him goodnight, I had one burning question for him.
"Why'd you make up your mind so quickly?" I said, finally finding my voice.
"About us?" he asked. Us. I absolutely love the sound of that.
"Well . . . yeah." I raked the blood-red carpet with the toe of my shoe. He took the time to say his answer.
"Well. . . with Cho, I noticed that whenever I'm in her presence, I get all nervous, and with sweaty palms, and she makes my stomach do flips, and I get really, really tongue-tied when I'm around her."
I felt that same icy cold dagger stab at me again. Wow. Do I have this same effect on him? He's making Cho sound like something really special right now. "And with you," he continued. "I don't feel the same way."
I was very confused and my heart was very heavy. What did he intend on his words to do for me?
"I feel one hundred and ten percent comfortable and confident you and, you know me better than almost anyone, sometimes even better than Ron and Hermione. You're one hell of a person when you want to stand your own ground. And you have so many things that Cho does not. And you cry a lot less than she does, frankly." He said with a bit of a laugh at the end. I laughed along with him, feeling much more satisfied. "And when I kissed you . . . it felt like something we've been doing for a long time. As if I've kissed you every day."
I was at a loss for words. I've never, ever heard Harry speak this way to anyone. Let alone me. "Harry . . ." was all I could manage out.
"I just feel bad that I couldn't've realized this sooner." And he stepped into my personal space again and took my face hostage within his hands. But this time, his kiss was twice as slow as the first and twice as careful.
I just feel bad that I couldn't've realized this sooner.
Little did he know that I felt the exact same way.