All she told Daphne the next morning was that she was pushed by Malfoy.
That was all.
"Oh, 'Mione I'm so sorry, next time I'll make sure to check if you're with me when we're around him." They were sitting together in Charms whispering to each other while Professor Flitwick was explaining the O.W.L exam.
"It's alright, Snape interfered before it got serious."
"He's a prick anyway," Daphne grumbled. "I'll turn him back into a ferret if I get the chance."
Hermione giggled and let Daphne rest her head on her shoulder while taking notes about a charm that muffles sound around you.
Charms passed quickly, and they were off to Defence Against the Dark Arts. She was dreading it, frankly. The woman in charge of teaching seemed off and she was hoping for a small piece of normalcy during the class.
Her hope died quickly.
"What do you mean we're not actually performing spells?" Hermione was appalled.
"Dear, I see no reason why we have to use spells when we have the textbook! This is a completely risk-free solution!" Umbridge's voice was shrill and she had an ugly smile spread across her face. She clapped her hands turned back to the board assuming the discussion was over.
"Being attacked isn't exactly risk-free, is it?" Potter was standing now, his face was scrunched in frustration.
"Students must raise their hands to ask questions. The Ministry has made the final decision. This is school, there is no danger here." Umbridge was still facing the board, her words were short, warning them to stop arguing.
"I would say Voldemort is quite the danger." Potter seemed absolutely furious.
She slowly turned on her heel, finally addressing the class.
"That is a lie. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has not arisen again. You are lying, Mr. Potter."
"It doesn't matter if he's lying or not. We still need to learn how to cast the spells. If we didn't need to defend ourselves against the dark arts, it wouldn't be a class." Hermione stood too.
"I am not lying." Potter spat.
"Both of you! Sit immediately!" Umbridge was practically screaming now.
"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Voldemort." They continued to stand.
"Do you want us to die, Professor?" Hermione never stood up to a teacher this way, it pained her in a way but it had to be done.
"Enough! Both of you will be seeing me in my office after classes are over." She threw a piece of chalk onto the floor and crushed it beneath her shoe.
Hermione sat and scraped her chair against the floor.
A note fluttered onto her desk in the shape of a dove. She knew it was Malfoy's note, he always sent her hateful messages that were disguised beneath the symbol of peace.
'Your blood isn't the only traitorous thing about you? How upsetting, a Potter lover and a mudblood.'
She crumpled it and shoved it inside her bag alongside the other note. She felt an annoyance bubble in her stomach, obviously she hadn't been fighting for Potter. She would've said all the same if he hadn't decided to interject.
She scribbled in the margin of her parchment paper to remember to burn his notes.
--
"Ah, come in, come in!" Umbridge was sitting at her eyesore of a desk with an evil smile that matched some of the cats that were hung behind her.
"Please, Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger, have a seat," She pointed to two small desks where a roll of parchment and a quill sat on top.
Hermione had been successfully avoiding looking at Potter the whole walk to Umbridge's office, but she shot him a warning glance when she realized what their professor had planned.
He didn't notice.
"Why's there no ink?" He was settled into his chair now, still not noticing Hermione's glare from across the room where she stood frozen.
"You won't need it, dear. Ms. Granger, please sit."
She dragged her feet across the floor, dreading the next few hours to come.
"Now, both of you will be writing lines for detention! Isn't that a splendid idea?" Her grin was still carved into her face. "Mr. Potter, you will be writing 'I will not tell lies' and Ms. Granger…" She tilted her gigantic head.
"I was not telling lies, Professor!" Harry blurted out.
"You will write it." She waved her hand while giving Hermione a hard stare. "You are a Slytherin, correct?"
"Yes, Professor." She was wringing her hands together underneath the cramped desk.
"And… you are a mud- muggle-born?" Umbridge's smile was reaching her eyes now.
"Yes." Her voice was hard, she knew her treatment was bound to be much worse than the 'Golden Boy' who sat next to her.
"I see," Umbridge's familiar smile dropped. "You will write, 'I will not wear other's shoes'"
Her heart sank. She would soon be wearing a constant reminder on the inside of her arm. She would be branded as someone who will never belong.
"How many lines?" Potter asked.
"As many as it needs to stick." Umbridge was giggling quietly.
Hermione waited until Potter realized that his messy scribbles were starting to engrave into the back of his hand.
He didn't say anything but he glanced at her, silently asking what was happening.
She sent a silent murmur within his earshot.
"This will hurt, Potter."
He snapped his head back and stared at the paper beneath him. She turned and did the same.
She inhaled a shaky breath that gave her no extra oxygen. She knew it wouldn't hurt as bad as the experience she had last night, but this was permanent. Her palm was damp when she grabbed the white quill.
It looked like a dove's feather.
She concentrated on stilling her shaky hands, so at least her new scars would look nice. Potter was quietly sniffling beside her, she didn't need to look in order to know he began crying silently.
She decided she would not give Umbridge the satisfaction of showing how much this would pain her. Both the phrase and the writing. She scratched her quill across the page, writing the same lines over and over again. She didn't stop until the page was full and had a large stain of blood collecting from her left hand.
Her plan hadn't worked. The pain was white hot and made her head spin. Her parchment was mixed with her blood and the tears that were streaming off her face.
Once they were dismissed, Potter stood in front of her.
"What the hell was that?" His voice was hushed and raw from crying.
"It's a medivel torture method, Potter. We're lucky she didn't just curse us." She wiped her face making sure no tears were left as residue.
"That has to be illegal, doesn't it?" They began walking together.
"Yes and no. She can do whatever she pleases, she's here under Fudge's orders, and apparently that means torturing children is Plan A."
"Dumbledore must not know she's done this. We have to go tell him." He grabbed her arm and led the way to his office.
"I'm not exactly on good terms with him right now, Potter. It's not the best idea to tell him. She grimaced while being tugged along.
"Whatever he has a grudge on can't be compared to what just happened, you must know this, Granger. You are the know-it-all." He shot over shoulder.
"Funny. You'd be surprised anyway." She pulled her arm away and he stopped.
"Well, what happened then?"