Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
The Bleeding Poppy glared up at Calla from its hiding spot near the Forbidden Forest. She had just managed to nick it from the greenhouse before Sprout had the whole lot sent to the dungeons. Hermione's voice floated over her,
"What are you doing? It's chilly out here."
Ron stuffed his hands in his pockets as if to reassert Hermione's observation.
"Yeah, well I have a scarf."
The pair looked oddly at her. "We think you should atleast let us see what you've been hiding," Ron said quietly. He looked over his shoulder. "We know it hurts you, and we've seen it. We saw you pull it off when you thought no one was around."
Calla's eyes narrowed. "That was last week, guys. Just get over it!"
"Calla, can't you see it? You tried to hide it from us last year that Umbridge had you cutting yourself! None of this is healthy behaviour. And, well, I'm just worried that you're not taking care of yourself."
"I'm the Chosen One, Hermione," Calla bit back. "It doesn't matter what happens to me as long as Voldemort is defeated. I can't sit around feeling sorry for myself, and if I go around whining about my miscomings, it'll just prove that Snape is right."
"Snape is not a factor in this, your well-being is!"
"Don't care what those slimy Slytherins or anyone else says, Calla. They don't have half as much guts as you do," Ron said hotly. " He and Hermione stepped a bit closer, and Calla eased herself between the Bleeding Poppy and her friends. "Maybe just a, simple healing draft," she whispered earnestly. "I don't want anyone knowing about this."
The two Gryffindors nodded and followed Calla back to Hogwarts.
"Promise you won't utter a single world to no one," Calla said in a hushed voice as they hid themselves in an abandoned classroom.
"We promise," Ron assured her, his eyes darting to the door every now and then.
Calla clenched and relaxed her fists, completely unsure of what she was doing and if it was necessary. "All right." She grasped the scarf and began to unwound it, carefully keeping her arms at a safe angle. "Do not fuss, Hermione," she warned.
Hermione and Ron's faces screwed up in disgust as Calla's neck came into few. It was black and purple, with a thick laceration around her the middle of her neck. Dry blood and infection was still on what appeared to be finger imprints. Ron covered his mouth as the smell and sight overwhelmed him, and Hermione looked faint.
"Who, no how? Why, Calla?"
"The muggles, guys. I told you they were bad to me, and made me sleep in a cupboard. I just didn't want to spare the details on other things..."
Ron went from ashy and sick looking to purple and livid in seconds. "WHICH ONE WAS IT?"
"Calm down, Ron!" Calla and Hermione chorused.
"I can't believe they would go so far," Hermione sobbed.
Calla breathed, not wanting to explain why her neck was in its current state.
"You have to tell Dumbledore!" Ron said beseechingly.
"No, I'm not telling anyone."
Hermione lifted a finger to touch the swollen wounds from Petunia's crop, but changed her mind. "Did they all do this?"
Calla grunted, "Petunia, Vernon, Dudley, Piers, and three boys I don't know but will be dead at the other end of my wand one day."
Hermione and Ron's eyes narrowed. "They didn't," Ron tried to search for better ways of wording his fears, "t-t-touch you or anything did they?"
Calla's heart hammered, and she stayed silent. Hermione eventually filled the stiff silence with short sobs.
"What is going on in here?"
The trio turned to find Filch and Snape in the doorway, and the footsteps of McGonagall and Flitwick were approaching as well.
Ron and Hermione jumped infront of Calla on instinct. "Nothing," they sqeaked in unison. Snape swept forward and pushed Ron aside, so that he could get a better look at Calla. Her red hair hung stubbornly infront of her eyes, which she kept down. Hermione and Ron let out an audible sigh of relief. If there was one thing the three of them could agree on, it was that Snape was the last person they wanted to find out.
"Sneaking around, I see." Snape drawled, his eyes narrowing as he stared down his crooked nose. One wiry eyebrow went up as he spoke. "And what, might I ask, are the three of you doing here? I believe the sixth year Gryffindors have study hall at this time. Or are the working of this institution just the makings up of my imagination?"
"No, sir." Hermione answered, her voice lost of all sweetness. "Just talking about...things."
Ron chipped in by nodding.
Snape sneered, "Then you won't mind sharing? What have you been doing late at night, Calla? A certain informant has told me that you have been sneaking around in the dungeons. Not stealing potions ingredients again, I hope."
"I haven't stolen anything," Calla said hotly, "sir."
Snape curled his lip before turning on his heel and following the rest of the teachers to what seemed to be a staff meeting.
"That greasy bastard." Ron snarled. He turned back around to face Calla and Hermione. "All right, we atleast need to get you healed up."
"Calla, have you been doing what he said?"
"Doing what?" Calla shrugged.
"Sneaking in the dungeons."
Calla swallowed, but it was painful. "Yeah. I just needed some stuff is all."
Hermione and Ron exchanged worried looks but nodded.
"That's it for now. Let's go before the greasy git returns."
They shuffled silently to the dungeons, aware of the line they were toeing but determined to take advantage of the unwatched ingredients storage. Hermione entered the closet while Calla and Ron stood outside.
BANG.
The two jumped as footsteps got closer, and they hurried into the closet.
"What is it?" Hermione hissed?
"Someone's coming," Calla answered. "I've got my invisibility cloak, hold on."
Ron and Hermione narrowed their eyes as Calla's cloak came into view, mostly because Calla was out of it. The three of them stuffed Hermione's selections into Ron's bag and then stuffed themselves beneath the cloak.
"I can't believe it, Goyle. Who does that bat think he is?"
"Ummm mmmmm," Goyle replied, his face never changing. Crabbe followed closely behind.
"Snape, everytime I see him I want to shove his face into the floor. Trying to steal all my attention."
Crabbe and Goyle scowled, which was probably their only facial expression.
"Damn it. Well, why don't you two just go on. GO ON. I can do this by myself. Salazar knows I've had to do EVERYTHING by myself."
Draco closed the lab doors in Crabbe and Goyle's faces before turning towards the supply room. The trio labored to slink past him, Hermione had quickly and silently cast a charm on their shoes to withhold noise. They watched from the corner as Draco mauled the ingredients shelves, taking random things before he spat in it and tossed it on the floor.
"I can't believe him!" Hermione hissed.
He sobbed quietly, stopping every now and then long enough to wring his hands or stomp his feet. Everytime he simply moaned or cursed. "Stupid Snape. Stupid Malfoys, I HATE EVERYTHING!"
Ron nearly jumped out of the invisibility cloak as a jar of pickled toad hearts crashed above his head.
"I'm going to die," Draco wept finally. His face was screwed up and his hair was a mess. Calla wondered if he even realized that he just had to go to Dumbledore. But then, she thought miserably, he would lose his parents. (Although she didn't care much for Lucius and Narcissa, she doubted Draco deserved to think he was the reason for their deaths. No, their crimes needed to be the reason for that.)
"We'd better go," Calla whispered.
"Draco?" a familiar baritone voice washed over them. "What is going on here? Who else is with you?"
Draco started. "S-Snape, YOU! Leave me alone, bastard!"
Snape drew himself up. My wards on this lab are shivering, Draco!"
Hermione cursed.
Draco paled, "What?"
"There are others in here with you. And since neither of us know who they are, or can see them, I have a good guess as to who they may be."
The trio shook, and would have darted to the door had it not been blocked.
"ACCIO CALLA'S CLOAK!"
Calla nearly emptied her stomach as the cloak was ripped out from her hands landed in Snape's. Draco went livid with rage, Hermione sobbed into her sleeve, and Ron looked faint.
"So," Snape's voice was too quiet for their comfort. "What have we here?"
WIP