Hi everyone. I know this is kind of late, but it's exam time and I have been studying my butt off trying to pass my courses. On that note, this chapter is shorter for those same reasons. I also probably won't update until the next semester, so around February, and I am really sorry, but I am writing this in Physcology class right now instead of working on my summative, so I hope that shows how pressed for time I am. Thanks for understanding! I own nothing.
The torches flickering dimly in their iron brackets cast ominous shadows along the walls of the hall, like dark tongues lapping silently at the cracks in the mortar and stones. Nico's sneakers padded the sound of his feet against the cobbled floors so the corridor was virtually silent, no indication that anyone was there.
Nico liked the silence. It made it harder for monsters to sneak up on him.
His destination that night was at the end of the hall - a single doorway, the only one to have light leaking into the corridor from the adjacent room. Nico sighed and adjusted his bag on his shoulder. In all honesty, he really didn't want to be there. It was a waste of his time - time that would have been better spent in the library.
Stopping at the door and looking apprehensively at the brass knob, Nico sighed one more time and opened the door.
Oh gods, kill him now.
The room was pink. Bright pink. Nico was pretty sure Piper would have a heart attack if she saw it. Actually, it looked remarkably like the same shade of pink as the Aphrodite cabin at camp. Nico briefly wondered if they had the same supplier before he shook his head. Now was not the time to let his ADHD brain wander. Nico stood in the doorway, gobsmacked as he surveyed the rest of the room. There were not many things that could shock him speechless, but the sheer number of cat photos this lady had was astounding.
'That's it,' Nico thought, 'She's definitely not human.'
No sane person would cover their office walls with pictures of moving cats. Then again, Nico wasn't entirely sure is Umbridge was sane.
"Heh hem," The lady in question cough to get his attention, which was entirely unnecessary since Nico was already looking at her. Mostly in disgust, true, but he was still looking.
"How nice of you to join us, Mr. di Angelo," Umbridge simpered and looked at the delicate gold watch on her ugly wrist, "You are three minutes, forty-seven seconds late."
"Yeah, sorry," Nico snapped his eyes away from her pink outfit (Holy Hephaestus, even her outfit was pink. Maybe Aphrodite would consider it a violation of fashion and turn Umbridge into some kind of furry creature) and cleared his throat. "I didn't really want to come, so yeah…"
Seated in front of Umbridge's desk, Harry turned a laugh into a cough and stifled it with his sleeve.
Umbridge's cheeks tinted pink - great, more pink - and she gestured to the seat beside Harry. When Nico was seated, desperately trying to ignore the fluffy white cat in a painting just behind her chair that was eyeing him like he was going to be the feline's next meal, Umbridge picked up a wooden baton and smacked the desk in front of the boys. Harry jumped backwards in his seat, but Nico just narrowed his eyes, wondering what her game was - what kind of end goal was she trying to accomplish. Surely even she would lose her job if she hit them with the stick, so maybe it was just an intimidation tactic.
"Tonight, you will be writing lines," Umbridge said in her simpery voice. Gods, was her voice naturally that high-pitched? She could probably make a dog deaf. Maybe that was why she stuck to cats.
Nico had to school his face back into neutral displeasure. Inside, his gut was crackling with laughter and his cheeks twitched, threatening to let a smile break free.
"Ah ah ah!" she continued when Harry reached into his bag to get a quill, "You will be using a special writing utensil of my own."
She plunked two black feathered quills from a drawer and set one down before each of them. Nico immediately balked at the darkness radiating off the thing on the desk in front of him. Those quills had spilt a lot of blood in the time since they were plucked. Nico wouldn't be half-surprised if the desk burst into flames underneath them.
But nothing happened. They just sat there like ordinary, useless, in-efficient non-pens. Gods, what Nico would do to feel the familiar plastic grip of a pen in his hand. He didn't even know that one could miss pens before he went to Hogwarts.
"Mr. Potter," Umbridge sat down in the antique pink chair behind her desk and steepled her fingers together on the desk. "You will write I must not tell lies. Mr. di Angelo, you will be writing I will obey my superiors."
Nico rolled his eyes. 'Story of my life.'
"Um, Professor," Harry said, nervously twirling the quill in his fingers, "You haven't given us any ink."
The smile of Umbridge's face would to most look sympathetic. To Nico, it was sinister. "You won't need any."
oO0Oo
The itching in his hand started off slowly - manageable. Out of the corner of his eye, Nico could see Harry massaging the back of his left hand with his knuckles before continuing to write. The back of Nico's own left hand was beginning to flush an irritated rose colour, contrasting horribly with his pale olive skin.
Nico paused in his writing to glare up at Umbridge through his bangs.
"Keep writing, Mr. di Angelo. There is still three hours, eighteen minutes left in your detention."
Gritting his teeth, Nico returned to forming the ancient symbols in a suspiciously-red ink that smelled of iron and copper. If Nico didn't know any better, he would have said it was blood. At least this detention wasn't made even more unbearable by his Dyslexia. It seemed that Dumbledore had talked to the staff about his problem, or at least had given them some sort of cover story because Umbridge didn't even bat an eye at the Ancient Greek words on Nico's paper.
"What the-?"
Nico looked over at Harry to see droplets of crimson beading along the back of his left hand. Quickly, Nico glanced down at his own hand and saw that there was indeed several strange cuts breaking the pale skin.
"There is still three hours, five minutes left in your detention, boys. Do try to keep silent until then."
Nico didn't even have to look at Umbridge to know she was smiling and simpering at them, mock sympathy and kindness on her toad-like face.
'Sorry Snape, but it just looks like Umbridge has taken first place on my list of people to kill when I get out of here.'
oO0Oo
The hourglass on Umbridge's desk had been turned four times by the time their detention as finished. In those hours, Umbridge had drank two teapots of tea, filed her nails three times, and had repainted them a different horrify shade of fuschia. She was looking over papers from the Ministry of Magic - judging by the seal on the discarded ones - and sipping delicately on a flower-encrusted teacup when the ten-minute-to-curfew bell rang through the castle.
Umbridge set the cup dainty down on a matching saucer and folded up the papers. "Well boys, I hope you've learned your lesson. Let's hope I don't see you back here anytime soon."
She smiled patronisingly at them once more and ushered them out the door, closing it forcefully behind them.
Nico and Harry were left alone in the hallway in silence. The two of them looked at eachother, before Harry hissed in pain.
"Here, let me see," Nico demanded and grabbed hold of Harry's hand. Through the blood, he could see thin gashes where the skin had been crudely split open to spell I must not tell lies in Harry's shaky handwriting. "You need to go to the Hospital Wing."
Harry yanked his hand back. "I'm fine. What about you? You had more letters to write than me."
Nico clenched his hand and cradled it against his chest, ignoring the stickiness of the blood as it spread to his shirt. "It's nothing. It's not like this isn't the first time I've hurt myself. Anyways, if you won't go to a Healer, then - give me that -" Nico grabbed Harry's hand once more despite the other boy's protests and used his other hand to tear a pocket off the inside of his robe where no one, not even Professor Snape with those beady eyes black like coal, would see it.
Nico wrapped the black cloth around Harry's hand, trying it off somewhat clumsily, but hey, he only had one hand to do it with. Then he stepped back to admire his work. "There, that should do for now. Um, keep pressure on it and clean it when you get back to your dorm to make sure it doesn't get infected. If it looks really deep, you might need stitches, so you have to go to the Hospital Wing. Erm, Hermione might know some healing spells, but stay away from those unless it's really needed, because you might do more harm than good."
Nico knew he was rambling when Harry blinked and looked at him with curiosity and confusion in his eyes.
"Blimey, Nico," he said, pressing a thumb to the cloth around his hand, "How do you know all that stuff?"
'Common sense?' "It was mandatory at my old school to take a course on healing and my, ah, significant other is our Year's resident Healer."
"Oh," Harry said, "You don't have one Healer for the whole school?"
'Will kind of is that.' Nico thought, but instead said, "Things are different there."
Just thinking about Will made a pang of loneliness shoot through his chest. Damn his boyfriend for making him go soft!
"So, um," Harry rocked back on his heels awkwardly, "Your significant other, are they coming for Christmas? Because I'm sure Mrs. Weasley would be fine with having another person to feed. She loves fussing over us, you know, and I'm sure the others at the place wouldn't mind. They are all good people and - great, I'm the one rambling now."
Nico cracked a small smile. "If they say it's okay, then I'll invite him."
If Harry noticed his slip-up, he either already knew or didn't care.
"The, um," Harry cleared his throat, "The curfew bell is going to ring soon. I'd better get going. I'll see you at Hogsmeade tomorrow, yeah?"
"Yeah."