AN: Warning, this chapter is intense, but it is cannon in accordance with the detention scenes from the book and film. I'm going to give you some sweet relief at the end of the chapter to ease such a nasty occurrence.


"Lookin' nervous, Ronnie," Jamie commented to her cousin at breakfast. It was the first Saturday of the school year and the Gryffindor Quidditch team was holding tryouts. With Oliver graduating early to play professionally, they were lacking a keeper and Alicia had adamantly refused to step in. Alicia was back-up chaser and didn't want the responsibility of the goals.

Ron had decided to try out. It seemed fitting to Jamie, and she probably would have given him the spot if she were captain, as he always acted as keeper during their pickup games at home. Angelina had been appointed captain, and she was determined to be fair, as most of their team were family members anyway.

"Shut it, Jamie, I'm not in the mood," he grumbled at her, skin pasty white. He gripped his gloves in his hands tightly.

"You'll be fine," she assured him, rolling her eyes. Ron's biggest problem was he psyched himself out and decided he would fail before anyone else could tell him otherwise. She worried he was going to choke out there on the field from nerves alone. "You know Angelina has seen what you can do, just do your best, you'll be fine."

"Easy for you to say, you aren't even going to be there," he pointed out to her. She grimaced, ignoring him. Today her team would be hosting tryouts while she was serving detention with Umbridge. On their very first day of class, Umbridge had repeatedly kept referring to Jamie as "Miss Potter", no matter how often Jamie corrected her.

Umbridge was poking at Jamie to get a rise out of her, and she held off for as long as she were able to, until Umbridge began subtly questioning whether Jamie wasn't a Potter at all, perhaps a bastard? Who was to prove she carried the Potter blood?

Instantly, Jamie had become infuriated and had snapped, insinuating perhaps Umbridge carried the genes of a toad. Umbridge had ordered her to sit down, issuing commands for Jamie to shut her mouth and prepare to serve detention for Saturday. Almost belligerent, Jamie couldn't stop her verbal assault, suggesting Umbridge was a ministry spy intent on torturing students, which seemed an awful lot like something someone with more sinister affiliations would attempt to do.

"I will have order!" Umbridge shrieked, the windowpanes rattling menacingly. She had sent a silencing spell at Jamie, forcing her mouth shut, and ordered her to stand in the corner, staring at the wall like a child. The warning, if Jamie moved, she would be suspended from school, hanging over her and pinning her there.

Fuming, beat red, Jamie had stormed out of the room at the end of class, only to find herself barred from speaking to Dumbledore yet again.

Jamie was still mad, even three days later. Other students had come up to Jamie, offering their condolences and support, Umbridge had been cruel and out of line, but no one really dared speak up. Umbridge was unleashing detentions and punishments and verbal assaults on anyone who dared step a toe out of line. It was frustrating.

Her eyes wandered to the Slytherin table, noticing a certain blond-haired boy was absent. Her eyes flickered to the staff table, noting Severus was noticeably missing as well. She hadn't seen Dumbledore in days, was starting to wonder if he was away and not holed up in his office? Severus and Draco were likely away on spy business.

Jamie had been barred from returning to HQ, Mad Eye and her father and Emmeline had warned her they had intelligence suggesting the ministry was monitoring her comings and goings from school. She felt stuck and obscenely out of the loop. Even Sirius was limited in his communications with her.

For the first time in a long while, Jamie was starting to feel alone. Her eyes were drifting to the Hufflepuff table, watering slightly, and she realized once again how often she had taken Cedric for granted. He had always been there, waiting for her to acknowledge him and seek him out, and she had toyed with him. It made her feel truly awful about herself, her stomach turning and twisting, almost sick with guilt and disappointment in herself.

The clock chimed, signally the end of breakfast and time for Jamie's detention. Her friends and family sent her sympathetic looks, and she noticed Harry seemed particularly uncomfortable with her mention of impending detention.

"I'll be alright, I'm sure she'll just give me some lines or something to clean," she assured him. Harry opened his mouth to say something, looking deeply upset, before pulling her into a hug.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked softly, running her fingers comfortingly through his hair. "It's going to be okay; you know I won't let her get to me."

"I wish there was a way to stop you from going," he murmured against her shoulder, voice sad and mumbled, and she wondered what he could mean?

"It's fine, I'll see you after, yeah?" Jamie pulled him off of her, giving him a reassuring smile. "Keep an eye on Ron, I want a full report of how he does, okay? Try not to let him get too deep into his head."

"Jamie, I love you," Harry was trying to collect himself. She gave him one last pat and a smile, disconcerted to see her brother so torn up. She had a feeling detention would be rough, but she didn't want to upset him further.

Minutes later, she was standing in the pink kitten-clad monstrosity of Umbridge's office.

"Take a seat, Miss Potter," Umbridge greeted her, a cold smile on her face. Jamie slowly sat down at a small table, a chill running down her back. She clenched her mouth shut, ignoring her refusal to call her by her chosen name. "You're going to be writing lines today, with a very special pen of mine."

She handed Jamie a roll of parchment and a black feathered quill. "I want you to write 'I must obey order'."

"How many times," Jamie asked hollowly. She had a bad feeling.

"I'd say, as many times as it takes the message to sink in," Umbridge was standing over her shoulder. Jamie could hear the cruel glee in her voice. Jamie had the sudden thought she was not going to be writing regular lines. "You'll find you won't need ink."

Jamie began writing 'I must obey order' across the parchment in her scrawling cursive in a dark red font. At first, Jamie didn't notice until she felt a stinging sensation, followed by a sharper cutting burn. Looking down, she saw the words etching across the top of her hand: 'I must obey order'.

She schooled her features, biting the side of her mouth until she began to taste blood. She refused to look up and give Umbridge the satisfaction. Her eyes were stinging, bile rising in her throat. Jamie elected to write faster, hand twitching as it held onto the quill, as the words were cut into her skin nearly constantly.


Jamie dropped her quill, hand trembling and bloodied. It had felt like eons as she worked as quickly as possible to fill the length of parchment. She was fighting violently to not cry or vomit on the floor from what she was enduring.

"Ah, finished already Miss Potter?" Umbridge stepped over to admire her work. "There, all filled up. Perhaps this will be the lesson you needed to maintain a sense of decorum in the classroom. Your wild child spirit may have gotten you thus far, but be warned Miss Potter, my commitment to upholding order will be unflappable from here on."

"Thank you," Jamie said curtly, rising from her chair. Her face was pale and drawn, stomach rolling. Umbridge waved her out and she walked, legs shaking, moving as quickly as possible to put as much distance as she could between the office and her.

Closing the door behind her, Jamie was nearly frantic as whipped her head back and forth for the nearest loo. Trembling, she could barely move her feet quick enough, clutching her hand to her stomach, tears streaking down her face from trying not to get sick in the corridor.

"Jamie—" Harry rounded the corridor, looking sweaty and worried, grass on his quidditch uniform. He took one look at her and dragged her into the nearest boy's bathroom. Jamie nearly collapsed at the toilet, vomiting her entire breakfast up, sobs choking in her throat. Harry was crying as well, rubbing his sisters back, trying to comfort her.

"I'm fine, it's fine," she was trembling, her head was throbbing, and she felt weak. She was huddled around the toilet, cheek pressed to the cold stall walls, fighting to stop more bile from rising in her throat. "It's okay."

"I didn't know to s-s-stop it," Harry was shaking, crying into her back. "I'm s-s-sorry! I didn't know what to do, I-I was hoping she w-w-wouldn't do it to you!"

"It's not your fault, there was nothing you could do," she felt worse than sick. Her nerves had been stripped raw at what had happened, but more so, she was absolutely sickened by the thought of Harry enduring this alone only two days prior. "I'm going to handle this, I promise."


Jamie had sat on the floor of the bathroom for quite a while, trying to settle her body. Harry told her it had taken him a while to do the same after his detention. She finally stood, asking him to go along to the common room and relax. She needed some time to think of what to do.

In reality, she needed some time alone. She felt…she truly just felt stunned. Her feet carried her to the old office room she and Draco had shared only months before. Crawling into the bed, she squeezed her eyes shut and waited for sleep to give her a reprieve from her excruciating headache.

Draco found her leaving the corridor of the empty office hours later. Her face had been cleaned and her mouth washed, her palm healed as best as she could, a glamour charm hiding the mutilation left behind from her detention. His face was grim, shoulder high and stiff, easing only slightly when he saw her.

"Rough day?" He greeted her, glancing around before pulling her into a quick hug. She melted almost instantly, eyes burning with more emotion though she fought it back.

"I'm guessing you've had the same?" She nodded and he made a grunt of agreement. They stood there for a while before they began walking, arms and shoulders occasionally brushing together, as they slunk through the school. She showed him the entrance to the secret passage which led to the basement of Honeydukes.

Eyes wide, he watched her scoop up bags of assorted candy from the stock boxes, leading him to the cellar doors which would get them up and out. They wandered the village only briefly before their feet took them down the familiar path toward the summer cottages.

"I already wish I could come back," Draco told her, looking much more relaxed as their cottage with Severus came into view. She felt a deep emotional pull to the cottage as well, a feeling of safety washing over her. They didn't go inside, worried there would be some wards against intruders. Instead, they made their way to the dock, sitting side by side and staring out across the water.

"I wish I could turn back time," she told him. He glanced at her, brows furrowed slightly, she knew his mind was turning with what she had said.

"To when?" He asked her finally. She wondered what he was wondering, if she meant to her childhood, to before the final task?

"The first time we got into that boat," Jamie admitted. His eyes flared briefly with surprise before he was nodding, a smile on his face.

"Me too, that was one of my best days, I think."

"Mine, too."

"Jamie?" Draco seemed tired and a little hesitant.

"Yeah?" The sun was still high enough to cast some sense of warmth on their skin. Her eyelids were still heavy from sleep and crying, she was picking through the bags of candy, popping morsels into her mouth and letting the sugar re-invigorate her.

"Thanks."

"For what?" she glanced at him, watching his face slightly redden. He shifted his weight, appearing to be fighting an internal battle to get what he wanted to say out.

"You told me we would still be friends after the summer, and I realize we still are." He knocked her shoulder with his. "You called me your best friend on the train, did you mean it?"

"I did, I've always meant it," she admitted quietly, eyes serious as she met his. Draco was her best friend; she hadn't realized it until late in the summer...but he was the person her eyes sought out first in the corridor and at mealtimes. When she saw him, even for just a quick glimpse, her body instantly relaxed and she felt a glimmer of their peace and safety from the summer. Draco was steady and assured of himself, and he was constant. He was consistent. He understood her in ways no one else ever had. He saw her weaknesses and he refused to poke at it.

"How could you be so sure?" His shoulder was nearly pressed to hers, their knees touching.

"Because you believe in me," she murmured. "Even when I can't believe in myself. You're the greatest best friend I could ever hope to have, Draco, and I mean it when I say I realize how much I don't deserve you, and how much I need you."

"Yeah well," his voice was slightly gruff. "I need you a whole lot more… it's me who doesn't deserve you."

She pressed her forehead against his almost instinctually. She could see every fleck of silver and the brightest gray blue in his eyes. Their noses were touching, breathing even, as they both seemed at a loss for words.

A warmth settled in her stomach, a fluttering, and as her pupils dilated, and a flicker of something…? She didn't know what it meant, and it felt too early and too fragile to want to find out. She pulled back, pressing a kiss to his cheek, before laying back on the dock, reaching for the baggies of candy.

His hands joined her quest for candy soon after, silent as they soaked in the last rays of sunshine for the day and when they would have to sneak back into school.