Chapter 55: September 3 – September 5, 1995, Hogwarts.

I always forget that September second is my birthday; or at least, I always did since starting at Hogwarts. But to say that the day previously had been the worst birthday of my life would be an understatement. I woke up the next morning staring at the ceiling, trying my hardest to not cry.

"Hey," Neville whispered next to me. I looked over at him; I still felt a twinge of something between nervousness and embarrassment whenever I saw him in the morning – we weren't a couple, and it was still somewhat odd to me that we shared a bed, though I really needed it.

"Hey," I responded quietly.

"Do you think we'll have to serve both Snape's and Umbridge's detentions?" Neville asked quietly. His face was inches from mine; my heart was pounding in my chest.

"Dunno," I paused, "But I'm not looking forward to it either way."

Neville sighed heavily, "I don't know what came over me yesterday –"

"Hermione and I figured it out, Nev," I whispered, "It's cause you've had to take care of us."

"What –"

"No, seriously," I frowned, "You've been helping me with this," I gestured to the bed, "Harry with how angry he's been – Hermione with her anxiety over exams and everything else – no one has been taking care of you."

Neville frowned, "Well… yeah, but I don't mind –"

"It's not about whether or not you mind," I whispered, "It's about whether or not it's good for you. So, we've decided that you shouldn't have to take our shit anymore."

"Well, I still will," Neville nodded decisively, "I don't know why, but I'm incapable of doing otherwise."

"Well, fair enough," I sighed, "We should go down to breakfast."

Neville groaned loudly. Yesterday, everyone had been hissing in the dining hall about us – about how Harry was delusional, and Neville was crazy. Surprisingly, not as much muttering about Hermione or me.

"It's cause I came out in a public forum and Harry actually talked abou the Graveyard," he answered my unasked question, groaning and throwing his hands over his eyes.

"I'm sorry that that happened, Nev," I whispered quietly. I really wanted to kiss him, again. His pupils were dilated greatly; I knew he wanted to kiss me, too.

I swallowed heavily and I got up out of the bed, my heart pounding lightly in my chest

Neville let out a long sigh that I chose to ignore, getting up and grabbing my clothes to get dressed in the bathroom. My policy was clear: I wanted to know about his parents.

We headed down to breakfast, but truth be told all I could do was spend the day worrying about what was ahead of me at Umbridge's detention. Still, I was looking forward to having Transfiguration that day, a class where I knew everything would make complete sense.

First, though, I had to get through Charms, where tiny Flitwick warned us about our upcoming exams. Sam sat with us in this class now (we had always shared with the Ravenclaws), he partnered up with Ron near the four of us.

"What you must remember is that these examinations may influence your futures for many years to come! If you have no already given serious thought to your careers, now is the time to do so. And in the meantime, I'm afraid, we shall be working harder than ever to ensure that you all do yourselves justice!" Flitwick warned before we spent the entire class practicing Summoning Charms, which I had (in)conveniently forgotten how to do over the summer holidays.

During that break, Dumbledore met me outside of the Charms classroom, and we took off together down to the Grounds.

"You sure Umbridge – er, Professor Umbridge – won't question this?" I asked him nervously as we walked through the misty grounds.

"Absolutely positive, or if she does, it will be directed primarily at me," Dumbledore answered calmly.

"Good," I responded, a little too much angery in my words. Dumbledore looked at me sharply.

"It is in within your best interests to try and be a little more compliant with Professor Umbridge's wills, Miss Johnson," Dumbledore whispered almost imperceptibly as we reached the woods.

"It is hard for me to control myself so carefully," I muttered angrily.

"Yes, well, hopefully more constructive instruction from Professor McGonagall will aid you," Dumbledore responded firmly. I sighed. Was there not one person in the Wizarding World who wasn't obsessed with what I got up to?

We reached deep enough into the woods and I transformed quickly, roaring out, "HERIN!" at the top of my lungs. Soon enough she walked up to us, peering down at Dumbledore carefully.

"Can you understand me?" she asked calmly, in English, which surprised me so much I transformed back. Her pronunciation was something like a scratchy version of a parrot.

"What the hell – you speak English?!" I shouted in shock.

"It is rough on my throat, but yes," Herin growled softly.

"Yes, Herin, I can understand you," Dumbledore bowed respectfully.

"Good. We do not have much time," Herin looked around the woods, sniffing carefully, "You left a trail. Other humans could follow."

"Yes, let us get on with it, then. You wish to bring another dragon animagus into the country?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, to finish training Maggie," Herin nodded at me, "I also wish for the dragons of Britain to partner with you and your forces."

"That can be arranged easily," Dumbledore nodded, "But I need you to gather the dragons in question."

"That has already been done," Herin responded.

"Good. I will inform the Order and try to persuade them of your peacefulness and cooperativity. What I need from you is to demonstrate those qualities," Dumbledore paused, "And to be secretive. I'm afraid the Ministry will not like it if they find out I have partnered with dragons. At the very least, they will arrest me – and the Order – for trying to tame dragons, something that has been illegal in this country for years."

"Well, you will not be taming us," Herin flapped her wings angrily, "But I can see why your Ministry would think so."

"I will be careful to make that distinction with the Order," Dumbledore paused, "Especially… certain members."

"Thank you," Herin paused, "Can my associate enter the country?"

"Yes, but they must be careful, and come in as a dragon. Have them transform back to human form and meet me in these woods. Send word with Maggie," Dumbledore paused, "Maggie, you will have to come out here regularly to meet with Herin and make sure things are going smoothly."

"I can do that," I paused, "I just need you to save my bacon if Umbridge notices."

"That can be arranged," Dumbledore smiled slightly, "We shall now go, unless you have more to add, Herin?"

"No," Herin started moving away, "Go, and be safe." She wandered through the thick woods away from us, me watching her go with jealousy.

"Come, Miss Johnson," Dumbledore urged. We walked out of the forest, out to the Grounds, where there were so many students milling about we were barely noticed. We walked up to the Castle and I left to go to my Transfiguration lesson, happy that at least I was headed to my best subject, where I would briefly not feel afraid for one class period. Still, McGonagall did not go easy on the fear mongering.

"You cannot pass an O.W.L. without serious application, practice, and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an O.W.L. in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work. So today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until N.E.W.T. level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your O.W.L."

I had already done a Vanishing spell the year previously in my private studies, and the past evening I had done a Conjuring spell on the tail of a bird to give it a tail bone. Still, I did the spell along with the class, and helped Neville and Harry tackle the work together. Harry managed to vanish his snail on the sixth attempt; Neville actually got his to go just as the class was ending. My ability to vanish it on the first try and Hermione's on the third won Gryffindor twenty points altogether, which was lovely. This also meant that we had no homework; everyone else was ordered to continue practicing the spell before class the next day.

"Neville, Maggie," she called as we got up to leave, "Professor Snape has… begrudgingly removed your detentions in light of Professor Umbridge."

Neville breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"Please, though, try to be less cheeky," she begged. We nodded, both grimacing at the fact that we knew we weren't begin honest, and left.

The Grounds were still foggy that afternoon as we headed to Care of Magical Creatures; Hagrid was still cruelly gone. Professor Grubbly-Plank waited for all of us to arrive; there were absolutely no Slytherins left in the class anymore, which gave me a small beacon of hope in the sea of sadness that was Hagrid's absence.

"Who can tell me what these things are called?" Grubbly-Plank began, thankfully not giving us the same speech about O.W.L.s. There was a heap of twigs in front of her and Hermione's hand shot eagerly in the air. The twigs on the table leapt into the air and were suddenly taking on the appearance of tiny, pixie-like creatures made of wood. I raised my hand slowly in recognition.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" Grubbly-Plank asked.

"Bowtruckles," Hermione answered swiftly, "They're tree-guardians, usually live in wand-trees."

"Five points for Gryffindor," Grubbly-Plank praised, "Yes, those are bowtruckles and, as Miss Granger rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?"

"Wood lice," I answered, grinning cheekily at Hermione as I did so.

"They prefer fairy eggs if they can get them, though," Hermione answered equally cheekily.

"Good job, girls, take ten points. So whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of wood lice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will gouge out human eyes with their fingers. So if you'd like to gather closer, take a few wood lice and a bowtruckle – I have enough here for one between two – you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body parts labeled by the end of the lesson."

Neville and I both took a bowtruckle and set it down; I immediately set to work sketching the funny creature.

"I have to say, I enjoy this," Neville muttered sheepishly as he fed the bowtruckle some woodlice.

"Yeah," I agreed begrudgingly, "This feels like… I dunno, a muggle zoology lesson, for once."

"Maybe when Hagrid gets back we could… gently ask him to do more things like this?" Neville grimaced, "I want to continue with this class at the N.E.W.T. level but if the monsters are going to keep getting worse…"

"Yeah," I agreed, "Yeah, we should talk to him." I still felt guilty, though, for liking something better than Hagrid's lessons.

"I just wish I knew where he was," Neville groaned, now doing the sketching himself as I fed the bowtruckle. Both of our sketches turned out quite well, between his sketching of plants and mine of muggle animals; when we saw the drawings of Hermione and Harry after class, we couldn't help our peals of laughter. They looked like the art of five-year-olds.

We walked off to Herbology, Neville looking very happy with this latest development, as always. The fourth years were getting out of class; Ginny beamed at us, as did Luna.

"Just so you know, Harry, I obviously believe you," Luna responded, "If this summer was not an indication." She was wearing raddish earings again; Sam had obviously not seen her that morning.

"Don't ask, I'm not in charge of dressing her," Ginny hissed in my ear, making me snort. Parvati and Lavender were giggling behind us.

"You can laugh!" Luna shouted, "But people used to believe there were no such things as the Blib-"

"Okay Luna, let's go," Ginny grabbed Luna's arm and dragged her away as multiple other people from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were roaring with laughter behind us. I groaned loudly into my hands.

"I want you to know, Harry," Ernie Macmillan announced from behind us as we all entered the Greenhouses, "That it's not only weirdos who support you. I personally believe you one hundred percent. My family have always stood firm behind Dumbledore, and so do I."

"Thanks, Ernie," Harry muttered, looking pleased.

"Wow, between not having a negative opinion of me and believing Harry, soon we'll have to induct you into our secret society of outcasts," I laughed. Ernie smirked at me. Lavender, Seamus and Siobhan all looked outraged.

"I also believe Harry," Hannah Abbot murmured quietly. Susan Bones and Sally-Ann Perks were nodding eagerly, as were Parvati and Dean Thomas. Lavender and Siobhan spent the rest of the lesson not talking to Parvati as a result, and there was an icy chill between Dean and Seamus that set the entire class on edge.

"They were the cute couple, too," Justin Finch-Fletchly commented mournfully after we left the Greenhouses with another essay to complete under our belts and another lecture about the importance of O.W.L.s ringing in our ears.

"Are you behind Harry, Justin?" Ernie asked sternly.

"Of course," Justin paused, "I remember second year."

Harry flushed madly; he looked embarrassed.

"It is my deepest wish for the entirety of Hufflepuff fithy year to be behind you, Harry," Ernie paused, "We have some hold outs, but not man." He turned and glared at Kelly Henderson, Carl Jacobs, and James Olson, who all looked back at him defiantly.

"It's okay Ernie, don't worry about it," Harry muttered quietly.

"It is not okay! Hufflepuffs are praised for our loyalty!" Ernie puffed out his chest, "How loyal could we be if we do not even believe our own headmaster?"

"He's got a point," Ron snorted.

We all headed up to dinner and I began to grown nervous about my punishment that evening. Harry's detention was scheduled for five o'clock; Hermione's for seven; Neville's for nine; and mine for ten. I wondered what could be in store for me so late as I went and did my homework at the table; neither the library nor the Common Room was safe for me now, and I didn't feel like trying to do work on my bed again.

"I wish I had another place to go," I muttered once Harry had left for his detention.

"Maybe you could ask Professor McGonagall to use her classroom?" Hermione asked kindly.

"Yeah, I think I will. I need to focus, though, who knows how long detention will take. I'll see you guys later," I waved, walking up to McGonagall's office. She happily let me work there (she didn't want me alone, even in her classroom, in case something bad happened – the amount of paranoia over a boy I had not talked to since arriving in the castle was amazing, as well as touching) until it grew close to ten. I had managed to finish my herbology essay and had made good progress on my potions one.

"I expct to see you here tomorrow during your morning break," McGonagall paused, "We have work to do on the theory aspect of your project –"

"Yeah, I know," I sighed, "Have you been thinking of the lost genes conundrum, or –"

"I have a bit, I think there's a series of complex transfigurations to resurrect them, or at least, reverse the DNA mutation process, but it'll take a lot of work and thinking about before attempting," McGonagall paused, "Read chapter twelve of your advanced book for some ideas."

"Alright," I nodded, "Thanks." I left, heading up to Umbridge's office, nervously looking around to make sure I wouldn't get ambushed. I managed to reach the office safely enough, closing the door behind me as I entered.

The room was absolutely disgusting. The surfaces were draped in lacy covers and cloths, there were many vases full of dried flowers, and there were ornamental plates on the walls, with kittens wearing different bows painted on the plates. Everything was pink, too, and I had the urge to vomit as I looked around.

"Good evening, Miss Johnson," Umbridge smiled thinly. She practically blended in with the wall coverings.

"Evening," I responded irritably.

"Sit down," Umbridge pointed to a chair next to a small table. I sat down, looking at her defiantly.

"Now, Miss Johnson, let me say some things before we get started," Umbridge began. I continued to look at her for a long while.

"It is important for you to realize that your adopted brother is telling great lies, aimed to disturb you and your friends," Umbridge looked at me much too sweetly, "And has spent his entire life putting you and your friends in deliberate danger. It is in your best interests to try and curtail this behavior in him… or abandon him altogether."

"I kind of doubt that will happen," I responded as calmly as I could.

"Well then. If you will excuse me for just a moment, I must go out and get something," Umbridge informed. She left, closing the door and locking it behind her. I frowned – what professor left in the middle of their own detention? But I sat at the table quietly, looking at it curiously – there appeared to be more than a few drops of blood on it. I frowned heavily.

A long time went by. I was starting to get antsy. I took out my homework and finished the potions essay, glad that that wasn't hanging over me anymore. I was getting quite tired, my eyes drooping slightly. Umbridge's office wasn't connected to her bedroom, but there was a bathroom in the corner. I went in and peed, hoping that it was okay.

An hour had passed; I was now antsy. I needed to go to bed if I was going to get any sleep before the next day. I wondered where Umbridge had gone. I decided to tackle my ancient runes memorizations – I finally had all the Arabic characters down pat as the clock on my watch struck midnight.

Now I was starting to panic. How long would I have to stay in here? How long until Umbridge returned? I fidgeted terribly, but focused on the image of Neville in my brain, managing to calm myself down. There was no good in trying to shift – if I did that, I would break something, the office was so tiny. Also, it would be just my luck that Umbridge would come back the moment I shifted. Once I had calmed down, I took out my advanced transfiguration book, stuffing my nose in it and forcing myself to read chapter twelve. My entire body was shaking with terror as the clock struck one. I walked up to the door and pounded on it loudly.

"HEY! HEY! ARE YOU THERE! HEY!" I screamed into the door. There was no answer.

"Oh my god," I whispered. She had left me in here on purpose. I started pacing around the room again; my entire body was shaking with terror and fear. I wasn't going to shift, but I also was probably going to have a nervous collapse. I ran back to the door and pounded on it again.

"LET ME OUT! PLEASE! LET ME OUT!" I roared. Still, no answer came back form the door. I whimpered loudly and slid against it, tears coming to my eyes.

"Let me out," I begged softly, clutching tightly at my knees. Still, Umbridge did not return. I tackled my essays for charms and for history of magic; having finished them, I looked and saw it was now two and half in the morning.

"PLEASE!" I screamed, running at the door and into it. It didn't budge. I cried and sobbed loudly; I couldn't get the handle to move, and alohamora didn't work. I looked around everywhere in the office – I couldn't jiggle the window open, and none of the drawers to her desk opened either. There was no way to get out, and no way to find out anything about her, or what she was up to.

I wailed at the top of my lungs and collapsed on the ground, sobbing heavily into my hands. I curled up tightly into the fetal position and whimpered until I managed to fall asleep. I was so overwhelmed and upset that I couldn't even process the fact that I wasn't with Neville. When I woke up not two hours later, screaming at the top of my lungs, having been transported in a nightmare to the woods, however, I remembered.

I continued screaming for a long while before stopping, breathing heavily, and crying again. The worst part of this was I wasn't safe. Usually, my flashbacks ended with me in a position of complete safety – my bed in Chicago, my bed in London, on the roof where no one could find me in London, what have you – I never woke up in danger. But now, I had had nightmare, a flashback-realistic nightmare, and I was stuck, still, somewhere dangerous.

"LET ME OUT!" I screamed at the door again. There was no motion; it was now four in the morning and I knew I wasn't going to be let out.

I couldn't let myself sleep again. I hoisted myself up onto the table and forced myself to crap out more homework – I finished my Bowtruckle drawing, though it already had been pretty much done. I then read the rest of the Defense Against the Dark Arts chapter, though it was crap on shittoast and I wanted to burn it. Umbridge's fire had long gone out; I was actually fairly cold in the office. I shivered madly and pulled my cloak over me, falling asleep once again aginst the table.

I woke up at seven, screaming at the top of my lungs again. I had been in the library. I fell out of the chair, writhing with terror. I gripped her carpet and screamed loudly, begging for someone – anyone – to come and help me. My voice was getting hoarse, and eventually I managed to stop screaming – only because I couldn't make sounds anymore.

I held my face in my hands and wept silently – since my voice still wasn't working – until the door to the office finally opened. I looked up and saw Umbridge enter.

"Oh, silly me!" she said, but I was much too in shock over what had just happened to me to actually process this moment, "I seemed to have forgotten you were in here! Oh dear! Please get going to your lesson, Miss Johnson!"

I got up and walked out of there wordlessly. She had purposefully left me in her office all night. Once I had left a good enough space between the classroom and me, I ran as fast as I could to McGonagall's office. Breakfast could wait. Everything could wait.

I reached her office and ran inside; she was still there, not having left for breakfast herself. She looked up at me in shock – I must have looked a right mess.

"What happened?" she demanded, getting up and walking to me. I trembled madly.

"Office," I managed to gasp out – my throat still wasn't working properly, "Locked me in. Overnight. Umbridge. Didn't say when I'd be out."

McGonagall looked at me in complete and utter shock. I fell to the ground, sobbing horrifically. I couldn't even process anything – my mind was blank. The only emotion in my head was fear.

"Professor Umbridge locked you in her office overnight as punishment," McGonagall clarified in a surprisingly emotionless voice. I nodded, sobbing against my knees, my body curled up into the fetal position, which was not altogether unexpected at this point.

"Maggie, I need you to take some deep breaths," McGonagall asked. I shook my head madly. I had no ability to do so at this time.

"Alright, just – just stay here – I promise I will be right back, I'm getting Neville," McGonagall explained. I sobbed heavier as she left. I was clawing at my wrists – I didn't want to be alive anymore.

"No," Neville suddenly was in front of me, grabbing my hands and holding them to him, "No, Maggie, No." He looked like he hadn't slept all night, either.

"What happened?" he demanded, turning to McGonagall, "What happened? What happened?"

"Professor Umbridge locked Maggie in her office all night as a form of punishment, and it appears that she did not tell Maggie she was doing this," McGonagall murmured. Her face was completely white.

Neville howled with rage; he pulled me off the ground and held me tightly in his arms.

"What did she do to you, Neville?" McGonagall asked calmly.

"She – she made me write 'I am a boy' over and over on a piece of paper… and it was with a quill that… erm…" Neville looked horrified, "Well, it scratched the back of my hand, used my blood as ink." He held up his hand; I am a boy was written there clear as day.

McGonagall's mouth dropped open in horror. I grabbed his hand and stared at it in equal shock, wordlessly, my mouth open with terror.

"It's alright, it's not as bad as this, oh my god, all night when you didn't come back – I was so worried – that George had attacked you or something – I couldn't – I didn't sleep at all –" Neville was sobbing horrifically. It was the first time anyone had said his name to me since I had said what he did. Still, what had just happened to me took the cake. It beat out everything else.

I knew what my nightmares would be now.

"I didn't… know if I was going to ever leave," I managed to explain, my voice hoarse, "I… I slept… nightmares… terrible… when I woke up… wasn't even safe…"

Neville wailed louder. McGonagall had to lean against a chair to try and calm down.

"I will have a word with Professor Umbridge –"

"No," I choked out, "No. If she – weak – she won't – I just have to do it."

"If you tell her, she finds out about Maggie's mental illness," Neville roared.

"This is cruel and unusual punishment! For both of you!" McGonagall cried, "I have to stop it!"

"She'll retaliate worse," Neville insisted, "There isn't a way out of this!"

I whimpered loudly, shaking like a leaf. Neville held onto me tighter.

"We have to act normal the whole day and serve our detentions again tonight. Maggie, you'll be prepared now. Focus on me, alright? Just focus on me," Neville urged. I nodded, shaking madly still, tears coming to my eyes.

"Alright. Get her to Arithmancy, and do it quietly," McGonagall ordered. Neville helped me off the floor and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, guiding me towards the Arithmancy classroom.

I sat down, still shaking. Neville rubbed my shoulder for a long time, his face still white. Hermione entered the room and rushed towards us at the sight, her face pale.

"What'd she have you do, then?" Neville asked quietly.

"I… did lines," Hermione frowned, "On my hand."

"Ah, I'm assuming she didn't have you write I am a boy," Neville raised his hand to show Hermione. She gasped, tears coming to her eyes, raising her hands to her mouth.

The back of her hand said I do not know anything.

"Ah, that's a good one," Neville rolled his eyes.

"Did… Maggie…"

"Oh no, Maggie got a special punishment," Neville sneered furiously, "See, Maggie here got locked in Umbridge's office the whole night, without being told that that was going to be her punishment."

Hermione looked at me with the utmost horror. I buried my face in my hands and rested my head on the desk.

"We can't do anything about it," Neville muttered angrily, "Or else she'll throw Maggie in the loony bin – and try and get McGonagall sacked. We have to be quiet."

"All the progrees Maggie's made –"

"I know, but I don't know what else to do!" Neville hissed furiously.

"It's cruel and unusual punishment!" Hermione's words echoed McGonagall's.

"That doesn't to her! You don't think cutting our hands open is usual detention, do you?" Neville hissed, "Look, we just – we just have to ignore it. Maggie is strong. Maggie can do this."

I nodded very weakly into my arms.

"I cannot stand that hag," Hermione hissed furiously as Professor Vector entered the room.

"Now, your O.W.L. year is an important one – and I have the utmost highest standards of my class. The fact that you are all still in this room is a testament to your work ethic and intelligence. I hope that you will continue to uphold the standards I have held you to since day one two years ago. Those of you who continue in my class will be taking on some of the most difficult magic taught her at Hogwarts, however, it will be both rewarding and beneficial, as it will make you competitive for the top jobs coming out of school. Now, probility –"

I was horrifically glad I had spent the summer teaching myself probability. Despite my weak mental state, I was still able to pay attention to Vector and take weak, nervous notes. Neville constantly shot me worried looks out of the corner of his eye, but I didn't pay attention to him. He was right. If I made a stink about this, I would be in bigger trouble than I was without doing so.

I quickly went to McGonagall's office to work on my research. I needed a distraction; otherwise I would fall into a pit of despair unlike one I had known previously. She looked up in surprise when I entered.

"Miss Johnson – I had thought –"

"You thought wrong," I croaked out, "Let's work."

She nodded, looking at me in worry, but I quickly took to her blackboards. I needed to focus on anything other than that woman. I took to work, scribbling out equations and complex diagrams all over it, pointing to the ones I wanted McGonagall to comment on as I did so. She did so willingly, though she never shook that look of worry from her face as she did. I covered up every surface of her office doing this, even jumping onto a chair to finish an equation up on the ceiling.

"Well, Miss Johnson, this is most impressive –"

"I had a lot of time to think last night," I croaked out. McGonagall's face looked unbelievably sad as I pointed to the end of my diagram.

"Yes, I believe that's the way to do it – shall we try?" I nodded and walked over in determination to the bird napping in a cage on McGonagall's desk. I raised my wand in the air and waved it, muttering incantations softly under my breath as I did so.

And then, in front of me, the bird no longer had true wings – its hands were extended out like a dinosaur's, the palms still facing each other (pronation – palms facing the ground or the body of the animal – was utterly impossible), but the claws clearly visible. The bird woke up at this and squaked in surprise.

"Good work, Miss Johnson!" McGonagall praised. I smiled in grim satisfaction.

"Good to know something good came out of that," I muttered. McGonagall gave me a hug, which was still surprising, but not a new phenomenon. I hugged her back and cried somewhat before pulling back and wiping off my eyes.

"Come, your lesson starts soon," McGonagall urged. I nodded and wandered out to her classroom weakly. Harry walked up to me and hugged me tightly; his hand clearly stated I must not tell lies, which made me angrier than ever. I trembled with fury and broke a portion of a desk off in my hand; if McGonagall noticed, she made no mention of it.

Harry had a lot of trouble with Vanishing Spells that day, due to his detention; Hermione did fine, but Neville also did amazingly poorly. Every one of the four of us walked out of that lesson looking positively ill; as I sat down to breakfast, I could barely manage to force down a piece of toast. Umbridge at the top table was looking over at us with a sinister smile; just looking at her made me tremble with fear I had not known in weeks.

We went down to Herbology after that; I managed to keep my composure as we worked with the plants. Neville looked cheerier as well, though Harry seemed unable to focus on anything. I still wasn't talking much; I didn't want to stress out my vocal chords. We went off to Care of Magical creatures as well and continued to work with the bowtruckles. That night, we all had Astronomy; each one of us would miss portion of the class by being at detention.

Neville and I spent the evening, not at dinner – neither of us could eat – but lying on the bed in our room, taking a nap. Hermione came too, which was a little weird, but the three of us slept next to each other on the bed while Harry was off in his detention. We then wordlessly went up to Astronomy and started looking out into the night's sky. When Harry came up from detention, Hermione left. When she returned, Neville left. And when Neville returned, I hurried down wordlessly; preparing myself for the horror I was about to endure.

"Ah, yes, Miss Johnson, welcome back," Umbridge smiled sweetly. I stared at her in loathing and shock, but refused to make any sort of sound.

"Please, sit," she motioned. I did so, waiting for her to leave and lock me in.

"I will just step out for a moment; please do not worry," she smiled so evilly I wanted to leap up and rip out her trachea. Still, she left, and locked the door. I sighed heavily and pulled out some of my new homework to do. I might as well use the time in this torture chamber… constructively. I managed to sleep more that night, though my screams whenever I woke up were silent. I really had lost the bulk of my voice. Umbridge came and let me out at the same time, and while I was horrified that this was indeed going to be my repeated punishment, I managed to leave silently and with dignity. There would be no shaking today. There would be no crying today. I went down to breakfast and sat down, pulling out piles of pancakes and dousing them in syrup.

Neville looked white as a sheet that morning; I looked at him in curiosity. He shook his head.

"No," I croaked out. Neville looked at me for a long time.

"I might have yelled at Umbridge and gotten another week's detentions," he finally said.

"What for?" I demanded furiously. Neville rolled his eyes.

"For locking you up. She said I had no right to say anything about it," Neville frowned, "But I'm not going to let her get away with this."

I sighed heavily. Typical Neville, falling on his sword for me, always looking out for me and the others in front of himself and his own safety. Still, I couldn't help but be touched. I reached out and kissed him on the cheek before I could even think about it. He stared at me with sad eyes – I didn't know what he was thinking, but I'm sure I wouldn't have liked it if I'd known.

AN: Didn't have time to spellcheck; sorry. Please review!