69. Detention with Umbridge
Dear Draco,
I know you are mad at me and I totally understand
We need to talk, it's very important! Please meet me down by the lake and I will tell you everything.
Draco, I know the fight we had was entirely my fault. I'm sorry! We need to talk, please.
With a frustrated growl, I crossed out the last line as well. My fingers curled around the piece of parchment and crumpled it into a tiny ball. It followed the previous attempts into my bag. I glared at the collection of crumpled parchment that was stuck in between my books.
During the lunch break, I had left to the library to get my homework done and to write a letter to my brother. The essay on the properties of Moonstone and its uses in potion-making for Severus had been the easier part. The twelve inches of parchment had been quickly written. I had barely been six or seven years old when Severus had read to me about all kinds of gemstones used in potion-making. Back then, I had been extremely fascinated by the cover of the book; it had shown various sparkling gemstones. For some unknown reason, they had provoked a feeling of calm and peace. They had looked so strangely familiar although, I still couldn't figure out why.
The problem was, I didn't know what to write in my letter. I couldn't even be sure Draco would actually be willing to meet me. Although, Blaise was my friend, I didn't know if I should include him or not. If I didn't tell him, Draco would have to deal with the truth about my impending death by himself. Then again, if I asked Blaise to come and told him the truth I could as well tell my Gryffindor friends.
Don't be stupid. Of course you cannot tell them. They would act all Gryffindor and try so desperately to help me that sooner or later people will know the truth by accident. Better not to tell them. Blaise… Blaise…
"Oh bloody hell." Groaning, I banged my head on the desk and closed my eyes. The happiness and hope from yesterday evening had vanished into thin air the moment I had written the first line.
I jumped when the bell ripped me out of my gloomy thoughts. My heart jumped in my chest when I remembered where I was supposed to be. As fast as possible, I stuffed the blank roles of parchment and quill into my bag and swung it over my shoulder. I almost knocked the chair over in my haste but chose to ignore the librarian's scolding glare. I was late for Care of Magical Creatures. By the time I reached Hagrid's hut, I was panting heavily.
"Ms. Jackson, how good of you to join us. Five points from Gryffindor for your tardiness." Instead of Hagrid, I was greeted by a very grouchy looking Professor Grubbly-Plank.
"I'm… sorry… Professor… I'm afraid I missed the bell." I rushed out. Her lips curled unpleasantly and she motioned me to join my friends. As I threw my bag onto the ground next to Harry, Hermione watched me sternly.
"Where have you been?" She snapped. I pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and took a deep breath to calm my rapidly beating heart.
"The library."
Hermione narrowed her eyes but chose to drop the matter for now. My gaze flickered down at our table. We were supposed to draw the sketch from a Bowtruckle, tree-guardians usually living in wand-trees. For some reason, Harry's grip on the poor creature tightened by the second. I was about to tell him before the Bowtruckle would defend itself when a familiar clear drawl reached my ears.
"…Father was talking to the Minister just a couple of days ago. The Ministry's really determined to crack down on sub-standard teaching in this place. So even if that overgrown moron does show up again, he'll probably be sent packing straightaway."
The quill snapped in my hand. I glared at the smeared picture of what had been a rather poor looking Bowtruckle. Inwardly, I was seething with my brother's words. I couldn't even tell if he was purposefully being an idiot to irritate me or provoke Harry. As soon as I turned around to him, Blaise and the rest of his group, a sharp sting in my heart made me forget my anger. Draco was sneering and laughing with them as if they truly were his friends. His grey eyes were flashing with mirth but his features were hard and cold. With shaking hands, I stuffed my distorted Bowtruckle picture into my bag. My feet were itching to walk over to my brother. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was, that I regretted our fight. I wanted my brother by my side.
"Arya what's wrong?" Hermione asked when we were marching up the hill, back to the castle. Of course, she did not miss how fast I had left to get away nor my teary eyes.
"Nothing. I'm fine." Lies, lies, lies. I felt sick with myself all the sudden. I pressed my lips in a thin line and glared straight ahead. Lying was something I despised as much as disrespect. Yet here I was, back at Hogwarts, lying to my friends and betraying the supposed unwavering bond of friendship.
"Sure. And I'm not a muggleborn…" Hermione muttered to herself. She grabbed my arm when we reached the nearest greenhouse. "Tell me. You've been all cheery and bouncy the entire morning. And now what? It's our second day. Is it because of your detention tonight?"
I rolled my eyes and quickened the steps. "Thank you for reminding me. No, it's not because of Umbridge although, I know a much more pleasant pastime."
Hermione raised her eyebrows when I smirked suddenly. I chuckled quietly and bit my bottom lip as a blush threatened to heat up my cheeks. My best friend laughed and pushed my shoulder. Instantly, my mood lifted when I saw genuine mirth in her eyes.
"You're so infatuated, aren't you? I mean you're practically glowing every time you think about him."
Sheepishly, I lowered my gaze. With shaking hands, I adjusted my bag. Hermione merely laughed louder when she saw my shy smile. "I'm not infatuated. I love him." I mumbled under my breath, but of course she heard it.
"What are you talking about?"
To my utter embarrassment Harry and Ron had caught up with us. They watched us with questioning expressions. Before either of them could say anything, Harry's focus was drawn to Luna Lovegood who was spilling out of the door along with Ginny and a few other fourth years. As soon as she spotted Harry and me her bright blue eyes bulged excitedly and she made a beeline straight for us.
"I wanted to tell you, I believe He Who Must Not Be Named is back and I believe you fought him and escaped from him."
Harry and I exchanged a short look before staring into her prominent eyes. I gulped and felt suddenly unpleasantly nervous. To my relief, Harry answered her. With a wide smile and a dreamy expression on her face Luna said her good-byes and left towards the castle. Lavender and Seamus were standing only a few steps away from us. Lavender glared at Luna's back before settling her offended glare on Harry and me. Seamus looked terribly confused and defiant.
We had merely walked a few steps when another student blocked our way. Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff in our class, strutted in our direction. I had to suppress a snort when I saw the resemblance with Draco's idiotic attitude. Like Draco, Ernie was a pure-blood and also born into one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families. He puffed out his chest and watched us with a boastful expression.
"I want you to know, Potter and Jackson, that it's not only weirdos who support you. I personally believe you one hundred per cent. My family have always stood firm behind Dumbledore, and so do I."
I pressed a hand to my mouth to keep myself from smirking. The pompous attitude reminded me so much of Draco.
"Thanks very much, Ernie." Harry sounded taken aback, but his features showed his satisfaction. I bowed my head respectfully in the Hufflepuff's direction and cast him a grateful smile. Ernie nodded curtly before turning around and strutted back towards his friends.
I entered the greenhouse with a warm feeling in my entire body. Hermione did not see it, but when she was listening attentively to Professor Sprout making her speech about our O.W.L.s, I smiled at her. I had Hermione on my side and students had openly declared their support. The day was getting better again.
During the entire lesson of Herbology, I pondered about how to approach my brother. He was not in this class which spared me the pain that flared in my heart whenever I spotted him. By the end of the lesson, I had at least settled my mind on telling Blaise as well. I still did not know how to tell them however. Tired and smelling strongly of dragon dung, we trotted back up to the castle. None of us was talking very much; it had been another long day.
"Can you believe it? Professor Flitwick expects two rolls of parchment by Friday and Professor McGonagall an essay about the various types of Vanishing spells by Thursday."
Hermione complained when we reached our dormitory. Carelessly, I threw my bag next to my bed and began to search my trunk for a fresh set of robes. I truly wanted to listen to Hermione's words but my mind was elsewhere. My first detention with Umbridge was in less than an hour. I took a quick shower and changed into clean robes. The warm water did not help the slightest to ease my increasing panic. I had not liked the way Umbridge had looked at me yesterday. I didn't like her!
Sighing, I looked into the mirror and frowned when I took in my dark expression. Determined, I raised my chin and a blank expression masked my features. "I can do this. It's just Umbridge, nothing to worry about. One week of detention for telling the truth. Who cares? It doesn't matter… I know I'm not a liar. I'm honest and respectful. I won't let her provoke me again! I'm better than that!"
Hermione was sitting on my bed when I returned from the bathroom. I passed her and threw my dirty robes into the laundry bag. A frustrated groan escaped my lips when my heart wouldn't slow down. All I could see was Umbridge's toad like bulging eyes and her sickening sweet smile. My fingernails bore deeply into my palms and I gritted my teeth with forced resolution. I despised Umbridge.
"Arya."
I jumped when Hermione's voice interrupted the wild storm of emotions. I turned around and froze on the spot. My best friend was glaring at me with barely contained anger. I narrowed my eyes when she got to her feet and hurried to the door. The loud bang of the closing door snapped me out of my frozen state.
"What's wrong?" I asked confused. Hermione approached me and her usually warm eyes were glaring daggers at me. I lowered my gaze to her hand and saw that it was clenching a wrinkled piece of parchment.
"This, Arya. This is wrong." With that she tossed the parchment at me before folding her arms across her chest.
Coldness rushed through my entire body as I recognized my own writing. My eyes flickered to my bed and I saw a small bunch of paper balls. My schoolbag had been turned upside down, my quills, inkwell and books spread on the coverlet. Hermione had read the various letters that had been meant for no one but Draco.
Burning fury erupted in my heart and I crumpled the parchment in my fist. Without looking at my best friend, I rushed towards the bed and stuffed my things back into the bag. I tossed it on the floor and glared at the remaining paper balls. I imagined how they would look like if they burned. I thought about the smell of burning parchment and with a snap of my fingers they light up. Hungry flames destroyed them rapidly until there was nothing left except a fuming pile of ash.
"You're right, Hermione. This is wrong." I snarled at my best friend and pointed at the ash. I wanted to scream at her for invading my privacy. I wanted to cry for her betraying my trust. Instead, I glared fiercely although, my lips were trembling with suppressed hurt and fury. "How dare you touch my stuff without even asking me! Did you find what you were looking for?"
Hermione bit her bottom lip but her composure didn't change. Instead, she unfolded her arms and pierced me with cold eyes. "Is this what you were doing in the library earlier? …Honestly Arya, I don't even understand why you take blame for the fight you had. I mean, you can't be serious! He attacked you and he punched you. It's only our second day of classes and Malfoy has already insulted Harry, Ron and me. And, if you haven't noticed as yet, he insulted you as well. After everything he did, why do you still care for him?"
"Because he is and will always be my brother, Hermione! He's behaving like a git, I cannot deny it, but he's hurt and really angry with me. I practically betrayed him and pushed him away since my father's return." I clenched my jaw and turned away. It had been ridiculous to believe Hermione could ever understand my relationship with Draco. There was too much bad blood between them. My brother had insulted and tormented them for too long.
"I told you this summer there are many things you don't know about me – about fairies. Well, let me tell you this; as a fairy I am capable to identify lies. I know whenever Draco lies to me. I know whenever you or Harry or Ron are lying. I know you meant your promise not to tell anyone about Draco. I trust you, Hermione and ask for your trust in return."
Aggressively, I grabbed my bag and swung it over my shoulder. When I turned to Hermione, she was watching me with a dark expression. I bit the inside of my cheek but refused to look away. My heart was pounding with anger.
"Now excuse me or I will be late. I'm not keen for another week of detention merely because you had to interfere with my private matters." My cold voice cut the tension sharply. Hermione stared after me when I left our dorm. The door closed behind me with a loud banging noise.
I didn't say a word when Harry and I climbed through the portrait hole and set off for Umbridge's office on the third floor. I could sense Harry was not in a better mood than I was. Our footsteps echoed in the empty corridors, rapidly increasing my panic. Gone was my firm determination.
Harry and I exchanged a short glance before he finally knocked on the office door. A shiver of revulsion made me shiver when Umbridge' sugary voice invited us in. I gulped and froze in the doorway when my eyes fell on the collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with kitten of all races. They were so hideous that I stared at them, transfixed, until Professor Umbridge spoke again.
"Good evening, Mr. Potter, Ms. Jackson."
My head snapped around to the source of the voice. Umbridge was watching us with a very triumphant blatant expression. I shuddered and automatically averted my gaze. The many pink decorations in this office were painful to look at. I did not greet her and wordlessly sat down at a small table draped in lace behind which she had drawn up a straight-backed chair. My bag plumped on the pink carpet ungracefully.
Confused, I stared at the blank parchment on the table, apparently waiting for me. Umbridge was not paying me any attention as she was currently listening to Harry's words with narrowed eyes. Even before he had finished his question, he seemed to realize that it was pointless to ask Umbridge for a favour. He had wanted to attend the Quidditch tryouts on Friday for Gryffindor's new Keeper…
My stomach was clenching threating when Umbridge smiled widely. "Oh, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr. Potter. You and Ms. Jackson will do your punishments as planned until the message has sunk in."
The blood surged to my head with her words and I narrowed my eyes. So we told 'evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories' now, did we? Neither Umbridge nor I missed the hesitance in Harry's movements as he took a seat. Umbridge stood in front of us and observed us still with the wide smile on her face. A sickening feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.
"Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me." She said sweetly. Harry bent down to open his bag. "No, not with your quill. You're going to be using a rather special one of mine." With that she handed each of us a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point.
A sharp pain shot through my entire body as soon as my fingers touched the quill. With a quiet shriek, I pulled my hand back and dropped it. I ripped my eyes wide open and a thumping noise exploded in my ears. This quill was Dark Magic.
"Is there something wrong, dear?" Umbridge' soft voice ripped me out of my shocked state. Slowly, I raised my head and stared at the woman who provoked a claw-like feeling of dread in my heart. Anxiously, I gulped but couldn't say a word. Obviously, she had noticed my panic, although she surely couldn't know its reason.
"I want you to write 'I must not tell lies'." Umbridge continued untouched. Her satisfied gaze wandered from me to Harry. A small laugh left her mouth and she smiled sweetly.
I was wrong, I thought as my heart hammered strongly against my ribcage. I don't know how I'm supposed to get through with my detentions. I cannot write with this… thing! I can't! Harry's voice sounded muffled in my ears when he asked how many lines we were supposed to write. By the time he called attention to the missing ink, my lungs were only working with half of their capacity.
"What are you waiting for Ms. Jackson? You are going to stay until I allow you to leave." The expression on Umbridge's face was almost malicious. Her lips curled into a sadistic smile when she kept watching me. Harry was watching me as well, genuine concern in his green eyes.
My mind was desperately trying to keep my hand from moving towards the quill, but it seemed to have a will on its own. I took a shaky breath to steel myself for another wave of pain – it never came. My trembling hand gripped the quill until I was convinced it would break any second. Then I placed the point of the quill on the parchment.
I must not tell lies.
I let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be a shining red ink – my own blood. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of my left hand, cut into my skin. Yet even as I stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before.
I must not tell lies.
A searing pain shot from the back of my hand upwards to my forearm. I closed my eyes tightly and bit the inside of my cheek to suppress the terrible sound of pain. My Dark Mark felt as though it was seething under my skin. For a moment, I was seeing my father in front of me when he revealed the mark on my forearm. My skin was burning; my veins were bursting; my nerves were set on fire. The Dark Magic in this quill was successfully attacking my own body and counteracting the pure Ancient Magic in my soul.
I must not tell lies.
Darkness fell outside Umbridge's window, yet I forced my entire concentration on the quill in my hand, forming the words which ironically represented a fairy's greatest trait – honesty. Pearls of sweat were slowly rolling down my neck. My left forearm had become numb, my left hand was twitching to get away from the pain. I felt my own magic rushing rapidly through my entire body, constantly pushing back the new waves of Dark Magic in my hand. Yet I wrote the words on the parchment again and again.
After what seemed like hours, Umbridge commanded us to stand up and show her our hands. My mind felt terribly dazed, my legs were shaking, my left arm felt lifeless and numb. I couldn't process the words Umbridge was saying but suddenly Harry turned towards the door. My feet worked on their own, automatically following him.
"Arya. Arya!" The voice of my best friend sounded muffled in my ears. Very slowly, I came back to my senses. We were in some empty corridor. I was leaning against the wall and taking shallow breaths. Persisting green eyes kept piercing me with great concern.
"I'm all right." I mumbled quietly. My brain was fuzzy. A soft groan escaped my lips when I thought suddenly of Severus. He would be furious. My left arm felt so much heavier than usual when I lifted it.
"You sure as hell are not. You think you need to go to the infirmary? I mean, I'd rather not but if you must, we'll go. Madame Pomfr-"
Harry stopped speaking when we both stared down at my arm. In the flickering light of the candles lightening the corridor, the back of my hand looked grotesque. My skin was glowing red, the words were crusted. I squinted my eyes close as the throbbing pain remained. The Dark Magic of the quill had provoked and flared the Dark Mark. It was ferociously fighting my soul's purity and there was nothing I could do about it. Dark Magic was my greatest enemy.
"I'm fine." I croaked out and pushed myself off the wall. Wearily, I looked at my best friend who extended his right arm. A sigh of relief escaped my lips and I took a firm hold of his arm. "Thanks…"
The next morning, I barely made it to Transfigurations in time. Although, I had slept through the entire free period this morning, I felt very tired. My left hand looked as healthy as always though. Nevertheless, my mood was not the brightest when I rushed into Professor McGonagall's classroom just as the bell rang. I had not had time for breakfast, I was starving and frightened about the second detention today. The disapproving stern gaze of my Head of House was merely adding to my bad morning.
I made weak excuses whenever Hermione attempted to talk to me. I avoided looking at the Slytherin and staff table at all costs, although I was sure my brother would not bother checking on me. Severus was another matter though. I did not want him to find out about the pain Umbridge inflicted on me nor the danger the flaring Dark Magic caused to my health. I wasn't exactly sure why I didn't want to tell him what was happening in Umbridge's detention: I only knew that I didn't want to see his look of horror.
The second detention was just as bad as the previous one. The skin on the back of my hand became irritated more quickly now and was soon red and inflamed. My forearm was burning; my veins were bursting; my nerves were set on fire. Every line provoked a new seething pain in my hand. My body was fighting the constant intrusion of darkness.
"Harry, I need a favour. It's important!" On shaking legs, I walked next to my best friend as we made our way back to the common room. It was way past midnight, the corridors were deserted. Harry furrowed his eyebrows and nodded slowly. Concern masked his features when he waited for me to continue.
"If I should faint when I have a detention with Umbridge, I will need Professor Snape's help. Madame Pomfrey cannot help me, you know this. But I will need him as soon as possible. No one else is able to help me."
"Alright. Alright, I'll make sure he's there but what aren't you telling me? What's happening to you in there, Arya? You're barely holding yourself upright and I've seen the lines you're writing. You only write half as many as I do. So what's going on?"
I tried a sarcastic laugh but only managed a short exhale of breath. My vision was turning darker again. I was freezing and so tired I could fall asleep right on the floor in this corridor. My body was trembling and my head throbbing painfully.
"This quill we are writing with, it's Dark Magic. I absolutely refuse to tell anyone about what Umbridge is doing to us. But the Dark Magic is draining me, Harry, much faster than anticipated I must admit. It's only the second detention out of four and I already feel as if I could sleep the entire weekend."
Harry's eyes widened and a hard expression settled on his features. "You mean this quill is poisoning you?"
I rubbed my eyes and sighed half-heartedly. He was right. I was being poisoned, kind of. Severus would explode with fury as soon as he knew. "I can handle the detentions. I'm just telling you in case I get more in the near future. Something tells me I will have quite a few more detentions to endure…"
The next morning, I woke up early with an unsettling feeling in my stomach. I climbed out of bed and swayed badly when I stood on my feet. The edges of my vision blackened and my stomach clenched painfully. I stumbled into the bathroom and barely made it to the sink in time before I started vomiting. My head was throbbing and my body felt as if it were burning. Somehow I managed to drag myself into the shower. Freezing cold water alternating with boiling water was pouring down until I felt my body again. When I finally turned off the water tears were rolling down my cheeks. I hated Umbridge! And I absolutely hated Dark Magic!
Thursday passed in a haze of tiredness. I had no strength left to even think about Draco nor wonder if Severus suspected something. I dragged my exhausted body from class to class, a throbbing headache as my constant companion. Anxiously, I pulled the sleeves of my cardigan and robe over my left hand. I kept my head low when I entered my last class for the day – Potions.
It was by far the worst class today. While I could at least support myself on a desk in every other class, I had to stay on my feet for the entire Potion's lesson. If that wasn't exhausting enough already in my weakened state, I had to use both my hands for the brewing. I had great difficulties to coordinate the use of my hands. My usually fluid movements were pathetically slow and clumsy. My left arm felt as if it weighted several pounds. The muscles in my left hand were overstrained with the easiest tasks. My tired eyes were stinging with the fumes in the room. And my head felt heavier and dizzier during the lesson.
Stirring, waiting, cutting and crushing the next ingredients, stirring, adding an ingredient, waiting, stirring… My mind monotonously repeated the instructions like a mantra while I was staring at my cauldron with narrowed eyes. The purple liquid was bubbling quietly – it was supposed to be blue by now. Lazily, I picked up the Potions book and quickly read the instructions for the at least tenth time today. My brain was useless. I read a line and forgot it as soon as I turned my focus back to the potion.
Frustrated, I pinched the bridge of my nose and groaned lowly. I closed my eyes to get a few seconds of rest and instantly lost my balance. Just in the last moment, I managed to steady myself by leaning heavily on the table. The knife clattered on the floor next to me. I couldn't distinct the darker edges of my vision from the dimly lit classroom. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, yet it helped to focus my mind again. Inwardly, I was pleading that Severus wasn't paying attention to my very untypical clumsiness.
The lesson dragged on and my potion remained as blue as Ravenclaw's crest. I was caring less and less for I needed all my willpower to stay on my feet. Severus was slowly rounding our table, closely examining each cauldron. He looked down his hooked nose at Hermione's potion without comment, which meant he could find nothing to criticize. I wasn't worried about my potion – I was too exhausted to care. So I half-heartedly continued the attempt to fix my potion. I wasn't surprised as he examined Harry's potion with a sarcastic remark on his lips.
Severus was turning towards Ron's side of the table when he suddenly froze in his step. As if a bucket of ice cold water had been emptied over my head I awoke from my numbed state. Severus' eyes were unreadable when he stared at Harry's left hand with a cold expression. I wanted to avert my gaze before he caught me staring but I couldn't. I was frozen on the spot. Harry had noticed the unmoving presence of the Potions Professor as well and looked up. He followed Severus' gaze before uncomfortably trying to hide his hand.
Green and obsidian eyes flickered to me at the same second. My throat felt dry all the sudden and my lungs were squeezing all air out of my chest. While Harry was watching me with a knowing expression, Severus was observing our short exchange. He didn't even bother to comment on Ron's potion as it was emitting bright green sparks. Then I felt his looming presence close behind me. I could feel his piercing stare on the back of my hand. There was no point in hiding it anymore.
I squinted my eyes close and supported myself heavily on the table. The potion and instructions were forgotten. My body was terribly weakened by the last hour keeping myself in a standing position. The throbbing headache was getting worse. My left arm felt as if it would give away under the weight of my upper body. All I wanted was to lay down and sleep. I wanted to stay in bed until the sickening feeling of the Dark Magic was out of my system.
"Jackson, stay behind after class." Severus snapped coldly. His voice sounded muffled in my ears. I groaned and let out a breath of defeat.
"I have detention with Professor Umbridge, sir." I said loud enough for him to hear. It was no lie – merely fairy honesty at its best. I had almost an hour after class before it was time for detention.
"Then I suggest you show up in my office tomorrow or you may add another detention to your list." With that he swept to the next table. I sighed tiredly and rubbed my eyes. Despite my weakened state, I felt Severus' growing annoyance. He was obviously pondering about what was happening.
By the end of our third detention drops of blood were smeared on the back of my hand. The words 'I must not tell lies' did not fade but remained scratched there. It was still early since we had been allowed to leave after merely two hours. I was barely able to stand on my feet when I left the office. It was only with Harry's help that I managed to stumble agonizingly slow through the dimly lit corridors. I could not move my left arm anymore. I did not feel anything except for the inexorable seething waves of pain.
Since I refused to go to the Hospital Wing as long as I was still conscious, Harry dragged me all the way to Gryffindor tower. People were watching us, some of them pointing, some whispering indiscreetly. I didn't care. I couldn't. I was desperately trying to stay on my feet. Somehow, I climbed through the portrait hole. My legs were shaking badly. Somehow, I passed all the Gryffindor students. Pearls of sweat were rolling down my neck. Somehow, my feet brought me somewhat safely to my bed. My left arm was throbbing, numb, cold and burning at the same time. Somehow, I kicked off my shoes before finally giving in to the penetrating exhaustion. Still fully dressed I collapsed on my Gryffindor-red blanket. My vision turned dark.
Hermione and Ron had found out about what Umbridge was doing to us. They had confronted Harry the same evening after I had dragged myself so ungracefully towards my dorm. They wanted us to go to Dumbledore but of course Harry refused. I did not know his reason but I knew something was wrong. Whenever Ron and Hermione mentioned the Headmaster, his expression would turn darker.
Friday passed in a blur. Again, I had vomited in the morning. Hermione had found me sitting in the bathroom half-asleep. She had intended to take me to the infirmary but I had talked – or more likely, shouted her out of it. I had promised she could escort me to the Hospital Wing if I was not feeling better in the afternoon. I did not go to Severus' office. I would endure this last detention without complaining. My left hand did not stop trembling the entire day. My blood was rushing loudly through my ears, making it difficult to hear the teachers' lectures. I dozed off several times in class. I could not even cast a single spell in Transfigurations and Charms. Obviously, my concentration was not existing today. Yet I succeeded to escape Hermione when our last class was over. The last hour before my fourth and final detention, I stayed in an old unused classroom near Umbridge's office. I was dozing with my back leaning heavily against the cold stone wall.
At five o'clock that evening Harry and I entered Umbridge's office, hopefully for the last time. Without casting Umbridge another glance, I steeled myself for the sharp seething pain before writing the line again and again. It felt as if the Cruciatus Curse had been restricted on my hand and forearm. My vision blurred while the edges of my vision turned darker at a frightening pace. Left was nothing more than a tunnel vision on the lines I was writing. My left forearm had become numb, my left hand was twitching to get away from the pain. Yet I wrote the words on the parchment again and again.
I must not tell lies.
My heart was thumping very hard and fast when we were finally allowed to leave. Searing pain shot from the back of my hand upwards to my forearm. My skin was glowing red, the words were oozing blood. My Dark Mark felt as though it was seething under my skin. My skin was burning; my veins were bursting; my nerves were set on fire. Speaking was impossible all the sudden.
The quill had served its purpose even better than Umbridge had expected.
Suddenly, I found myself kneeling on the cold floor, my upper body bent over. Whimpering, I clutched my throbbing forearm to my chest. My whole body was shaking badly, sweat pearled down my forehead, my cheeks tear-strained. Never before had I felt so exhausted and weak. I squinted my eyes close and twitched to get away from the great agony. I wanted to faint. I wanted to get rid off the agonizing abominable poison called Dark Magic which was pulsating through my entire body.
"Harry… Snape… Need Snape." I breathed out before darkness engulfed me.