Arriving at Umbridge's office came a lot sooner than I would have liked. I wanted so badly to turn around and head for the Common Room, but I couldn't do it. So, with a tight throat and knots in my stomach, I raised my hand and knocked.

"Come in," came Umbridge's shrill voice.

I ground my teeth before opening the door.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," she greeted after taking a sip from her tea cup, then delicately placing it on the small plate in front of her.

"Good evening," I greeted in a low tone.

Professor Umbridge clicked her tongue as she shook her head. "That is not the proper way to greet someone of authority."

"Good evening, Professor Umbridge," I said again, no change in my tone.

She smiled as she motioned to the small desk in front of her own.

I grimaced at the sight of a pink, flowery, frilly cozy on its center.

"You will be doing lines for me tonight," she explained, placing a single sheet of parchment in front of me.

Lines, how original, I thought in annoyance. "What do I have to write?" I asked aloud.

"'I will only speak the truth.'"

"What do you think I've been saying?" I wanted to shout out loud. "How many times would like me to write it?" I asked instead.

"Oh, I'd say until the message is skin-deep," she said with her usual smile in place.

Okay, I thought in confusion as I reached into my bag for my quill.

"Oh, no, dear," Umbridge said suddenly causing me to look up. "I would prefer you use my quill." She placed a ruby-red feather quill next to the parchment. Its point was overly sharpened.

I sighed as I grabbed the quill in my right hand while Umbridge returned to her seat behind her desk.

Once I began to write, my right hand began to burn as if I was putting a fire-heated needle to my skin after writing each word. Once I finished the first line, I gasped in pain and dropped the quill. I watched as the words I wrote on the parchment carved into the back of my hand. Blood began to slowly seep out from each cut. When I saw that the ink from the quill was red, I realized I was writing the lines in my own blood.

"Something wrong?"

I looked up. Umbridge stared at me as she sipped her tea.

"No," I said, hoping there wasn't a sign of pain of my face.

After three hours, my hand was covered in blood and throbbed with pain.

"You can stop now."

I silently put down the quill.

"Come here," Professor Umbridge ordered kindly.

I moved to stand in front of her desk.

"Show me your hand."

I held out my hand. Professor Umbrdge took out a small cloth from her desk drawer and began to wipe off the blood. I tried not to show any sign of pain, but I winced every time she reapplied the cloth.

At last she stopped. The cuts reminded me of the wounds Harry received from the Dementor. The edges of the cuts were a light pink, the centers were a dark red, blood still seeping.

"Hmm, it looks good, but I don't think it's sunk in yet," said Professor Umbridge as she examined my hand.

I could feel my mouth slowly open in shock, but Umbridge didn't notice.

"You can go now," she said.

Without saying a word, I grabbed my bag, slung it over my shoulder and held it in place with my injured hand.

As I wandered the halls looking for a bathroom, I felt my eyes begin to burn, but I didn't let the tears fall. Not yet, anyway.

Once I found a bathroom, I entered and made sure no one was there before heading for a sink. I watched as the water turned into a red river as my blood mixed with it. My hand stung as the water cleaned the cuts.

I shut off the water, letting it drip off my hands and land on the stone floor. I reached for some paper towels and dried them. Once that was done, I grabbed more paper towels and wrapped them around my hand, making a bandage.

I looked at my reflection, revealing my pale skin and dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep. I finally allowed my tears to fall.

"Why aren't you here?" I asked my reflection. I looked at my newly bandaged hand, which still slightly stung. "Why aren't you here to take the pain away?" I continued to stare at my reflection, fighting the urge to break the mirror, like something that only happens in horror films.

I sniffed, wiping my eyes as I went out the door.

I gave the Fat Lady the password and entered the Common Room, finding both Harry and Ron doing their homework as they sat in front of the fire.

"Are my eyes playing tricks on me or are Harry Potter and Ron Weasley studying?" I asked with a grin.

"We study," said Harry after placing his quill down.

I chuckled. "I know," I said, pulling my hair back.

"What happened to your hand?" Ron asked.

I froze, realizing too late that I used my injured hand.

"Oh, nothing," I said.

Harry and Ron shared a glance.

"If you say so," said Harry.

"So, how bad was the torture?" Ron asked.

I laughed. "It wasn't that bad. I only had to do lines." I decided to leave out what type of quill I used, knowing how protective the boys are.

"Wow," said Ron. "I thought Umbridge's punishment would have been much worse."

I smiled. "Well, now we know."

We all fell silent.

"Well, I'm going to bed. It's getting late," I said. "Good night, you two."

"Good night," they said together.

I entered the dormitory finding both Lavender and Pavarti sitting on Lavender's bed, gossiping. Ginny was sitting on her bed, looking through her collection of Chocolate Frog cards.

I sat on my bed, closing the curtains around me, placing a Silencing Charm on them. I sat in silence for a while, my legs crossed in front of me, thinking of nothing in particular.

I reached behind my neck and unclipped the chain of my locket, letting it lie in my palm, the chain dangling between my fingers. I opened it and watched the photo selves of Cedric and me dancing.

I closed the locket, lay back on my pillow and cried myself to sleep, holding tightly to the locket.