Hey, everyone! Sorry I haven't updated in a while. My flash-drive was erased by a software company that shall go unnamed *coughWindowscough*. I've been trying to get my files back in order, and I kind of lost interest in this fanfiction for a while. I'll try to post regularly, though, for all you people who checked every so often to see if a new chapter was up. Thanks for the reviews!
. . .
I woke up to find myself surrounded by light in the Hospital Wing. I remembered the struggle in Hogsmeade, and found I wasn't afraid. In fact, the thought made me angry, and I wanted to take out Bellatrix for what she did. I threw back the sheets and simply stopped and stared at what I saw.
It was like I was in someone else' body. I could see the heavily bloodstained bandages, I could tell there was serious damage, but I didn't feel any pain. "This is so bizarre." I murmured.
I looked over and was met with Draco's pale face looking at me concernedly. He was sitting in a chair by my bed, and he looked like he'd been sleeping there. "Draco? Are you all right?"
"I'm better off than you are." he said weakly, and I knew he'd seen my bandages.
"I don't feel anything." I said, shaking my head.
"Madame Pomfrey slipped something for the pain in your sleeping drought. And Snape mostly repaired your skin." he explained. Somehow, it seemed as though my injuries weren't the worst thing plaguing his mind.
"What's wrong?" I asked gently.
He sighed. "Snape wanted me to talk with him in his office about what happened in Hogsmeade."
"What did he have to say?"
"That my father let her in."
He looked like he was fighting with himself, like he shouldn't have told her that piece of information. I gave him a look that clearly said I was curious, not angry. "What?"
"I'm sorry." he whispered. "I should never have invited you up to the tower. I should never have put you in this situation. Now you're going to die."
I crossed my arms. "Ha. Yeah, just you try and kill me. I'd like to see that." I snorted.
"Not me," he said, shaking his head earnestly. "My father. The Death Eaters. Voldamort."
"They can't do it." I said forcefully. "And believe me, they've tried. And now that I'm expecting it, I'll be even more prepared."
"I don't want you getting hurt again."
I stared at him for a moment. "Are you dumping me?" I ask.
"Not because I don't love you." he said quickly as she leaned back and smiled bitterly. "It's actually because I think I love you too much."
I just looked at him. "How does that even make sense?" I asked, feeling hurt. "Look, if you think you're in danger by being with me, by all means, leave."
"It's not me I'm worried about."
"Then who? Because I sure as hell can take care of myself!" I snapped. "I don't need protecting."
"Look at what happened in Hogsmeade!" he exclaimed, gesturing to my bandages.
"I didn't die, did I?" I ask. "And anyway, I'll be fine. It'll take more than whatever she hit me with to stop me."
Draco just sighed, seeming to have no argument. "Fine." he said. "Since you're so sure you'll be okay, I won't force you away from me."
"Good." I say. "Now, do we have any Transfiguration homework?"
. . .
"Detention, Miss Greyson!" Umbridge sang, almost looking like she was savoring the words she hadn't uttered in so long.
Hermione groaned quietly next to me, but I didn't care. I just leaned back in my seat, having fully asked for that detention.
Ever since word got out that I had been seeing Draco Malfoy, people had been starting all sorts of rumors about me. One of them was that I was pregnant with his child, which is why he defended me so vigorously in Hogsmeade. Of course, this rumor is far from the truth, but it doesn't stop people from coming up to ask me about the baby. Therefore, I decided it didn't much matter how I acted in Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
"Yes, Professor." I said in the most polite voice I could muster.
"See me tonight."
"I'll be looking forward to it."
She gives me a sickly smile. "Right then. See me tomorrow as well."
"Why?"
"Sarcasm, my dear, has no place in the classroom."
I leaned back again, mumbling, "Fine, then you can suck my-"
"And for the rest of the month, Greyson."
At this, even Harry looked at me with slight disappointment. I didn't care.
That night, I arrived early for detention, just to spite her.
"Ah, Miss Greyson." said Umbridge. "You're early. Good. That gives me time to explain what you will be doing."
"I just assumed I'd be whipped by Filch." I said.
"Oh, no, though that may come later." she chuckled. "No, you will be doing lines tonight."
I looked at her skeptically. "Lines?"
"Yes." she said sweetly. "Sit down, sit down."
"What shall I write?"
"I must not rebel. That should be good."
Shaking my head, I took a seat on a pink-covered chair. I dug in my bag for a quill, but she stopped me.
"No, I'd rather you use my quill, dear." she purred like I imagine those demonic kittens on her plates would. "It's quite... special."
Special my arse, I thought, taking the pen warily. This was probably the catch to doing mere lines. I wondered if the quill would snap every time I used it, or maybe run out of ink too quickly. Whatever it did, it wouldn't be good.
I was wrong. What the quill did was horrible. As soon as I had written I must not rebel, there was a searing pain on the back of my hand. I glanced down and saw the words were written into my skin. I lifted the quill from the parchment, and the skin healed over. Carefully keeping my face free of expression, I continued with the lines, not even making so much as a squeak of pain. I lost count of how many times I wrote those words. I just forced myself to keep putting pen to paper, though the ink was my own blood. After a while, even my own flesh gave up on me, refusing to heal itself again once it had been split open.
"That's enough." said Umbridge quietly, watching me carefully. "You may go."
I nodded, grabbed my bag, and left the room. Not once did I touch my throbbing hand until I was two corridors away. By that time, I couldn't take it anymore, and I leaned against the wall, holding my hand and unable to fight the tears of pain rolling down my face. Silently, I vowed to kill that Satanic woman if it was the very last thing I did.