Hello everyone!
I'm sorry it has been so long since I updated last. Like I had thought, the end of the semester was really though and I barely had time to breathe, even less to write.
But here's the new chapter for you. I hope you will like it. Thank you for all your support, it means the world to me. 3
Enjoy!

wildest dreams
VOLUME II

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I woke up the next day with a headache. The cut in my eyebrow wasn't painful anymore, thanks to Madam Pomfrey – but I still swallowed the pain relief Potion she had given me the day before. I opened my curtain – everyone was awake.

"Happy birthday, Addy," said Alicia with a small smile.

I smiled back, although I felt a little grim – everything that had happened yesterday shed a shadow on my good mood. Banned from the Quidditch Pitch – and one night of detention per week with Umbridge until Christmas. That was enough to make me want to go back to bed, and sleep until December.

I stood up with the good idea to take a long, warm shower, but stopped at the foot of Angelina's bed. She was still laying there, her arms covering her face – very out of character for Angelina, who was usually the first one up.

"Angie?" I said quietly.

She moved her arms slightly so that I could see her face.

"Please tell me yesterday was a nightmare."

I sat down on her bed, sighing.

"I wish I could."

She groaned, rolling under the covers to hide herself.

"What am I even going to do?" she moaned. "I'm missing half my team."

"You'll find a way, Angie, you always do."

"How am I even going to find two Beaters? And no one compares to –"

"Hey," I said, putting my hand on her shoulder. "Why don't we go downstairs, eat a nice breakfast, and then we'll try to find a solution together. All right?"

She sighed, straightening up on the bed.

"All right."

I smiled, giving her a hug. I took a quick shower and we went downstairs to grab breakfast – the Great Hall was quiet, but I felt a few looks on me and the small bandage on my eyebrow. I glanced at the Slytherin table, but Montague was nowhere to be seen. Good, I thought. I was in no mood to deal with him.

I filled my plate with sausages and scrambled eggs and started eating slowly. My eyes wandered around the Great Hall, as if daring anyone to look at me funny. I then spotted Ginny, who was eating with her boyfriend Michael Corner.

"What about Ginny?" I told Angelina. "I've seen her play a lot at the Burrow – she's brilliant."

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea. She's a Weasley, after all."

I smiled, and then felt two arms slid around me and a pair of lips kissing my cheek.

"Happy birthday, gorgeous."

I felt my smile widen as George sat down beside me. His lip was still a little swollen from yesterday. I thought about how we looked like two misfits, with our cuts and bruises.

"Hey, you."

"Why the long face?" he asked.

I glared at him.

"Don't you remember yesterday?"

"Oh, don't let that ruin your day."

"How can I do that? You've been –"

Before I could continue, George put a finger on my lips, preventing me from listing everything that had happened. I squeezed his hand – he was right. I shouldn't let it ruin my day. Fred, Lee and Alicia arrived, and gave me warm hugs – Lee had brought me a plate of pancakes from the kitchens. I gave him a big kiss on the cheek – well, until George started protesting.

After we finished eating, the twins insisted that we all went outside to enjoy the snow that had fallen during the night – and we spent all morning there, tobogganing and throwing snowballs at the windows of the Gryffindor Tower. All the laughter and the running around made me forget my grimness, and went got back inside for lunch, I was in such a good mood that even the sight of Montague sitting at the Slytherin table didn't ruin it. I only winked at him, pointing my own nose to refer to the small bandage on his. The consequences were awful – but at that moment it felt so worth it.

After lunch I insisted on going to do homework at the library – with the match the day before, I hadn't done anything and I still had a mountain of work to do. But George also insisted on going with me, and of course, I didn't get any work done, as he kept scribbling hearts on my essays and followed me every time I went to get a book to steal a kiss. So not two hours later, I gave up, and we headed for Hogsmeade through the secret passage.

We spent the rest of the afternoon there, shopping and eating candy – and we decided to have dinner at the Three Broomsticks. The owner, Madam Rosemerta, didn't comment on our slightly illegal presence, and served us two delicious plates of fish and chips. We had just finished sharing a desert of ice cream and brownies when George put down a small box next to my bowl. I gave him a suspicious look.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Open it," he simply said.

"You didn't buy me a real diamond, did you? 'Cause that was a joke."

"I know. Just open it."

I looked at him for a second – him and his little smirk. Shaking my head, I took the small black box and pulled on the golden ribbon. When I opened the lid, my breath caught in my throat.

"Bloody hell," I whispered.

"D'you like them?" said George hopefully.

In the small box were the two most beautiful earrings I had ever seen – two dark red stones, surrounded by golden embroidery, glimmering just slightly in the dim light. They looked so simple and so breath-taking at the same time.

"I love them, George. They're perfect," I said, smiling.

"Put them on," he replied excitedly.

I hadn't been wearing any, so I put them on quickly, feeling my cheeks burn.

"How do I look?" I asked George when I was done.

"Perfect."

I slapped his arm, shaking my head.

"Piss off."

"It's true" he smiled, slightly laughing.

"Oh, George – thank you. Seriously – you didn't have to…"

"I wanted to."

"But they look very expensive, and –"

"No, no, I don't want to hear that. You're my girlfriend, I love you and I wanted to give you something special for your birthday. Besides, I can afford it now. Business has been really good."

I chuckled, and bent forward to pull him into a long, tender kiss, stroking his hair.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

A nice surprise awaited us at the staff table in the Great Hall the next morning – Hagrid was back. I watched in amusement the twins and Lee run down the room to shake his hand, and Alicia hugging me tightly, her eyes almost filled with tears at the idea of not having to see Grubbly-Plank ever again.

The next day, when I arrived at Defense Against the Dark Arts, Umbridge had decided to change the entire seating of the class – I sighed in relief at not having to sit down beside Montague anymore. I ended up on the front row, however, next to a quiet Slytherin girl who spent most of the lesson doodling on a piece of parchment. That night, I was to have my first detention with Umbridge. When her class had ended, she had given me a sharp look.

"I will see you at six tonight, Miss Harlowe. My office."

I nodded – as if I would forget – and was restless for the rest of the day. Detention was already awful – I couldn't imagine what it was like with Umbridge. I knew Harry had had several detentions with her since the beginning of the year, and I wanted to ask him how they were, but I couldn't find him all day.

Six o'clock soon arrived, and I set out for Umbridge's office.

"Come in," said the familiar shrill voice.

Breathing in, I opened the door and entered the small office. The last time I had been there, Lupin was the Defense teacher – it looked much, much different today. The grey walls were now pale pink, and decorated with dozens and dozens of small decorative plates with kittens on them – kittens who miaowed at my appearance. Everything was pink and white, from the tablecloth on the Umbridge's desk to Umbridge herself. There was also a sharp smell of cheap roses, that made me wrinkle my nose.

"Good evening, miss Harlowe. Please, take a seat."

She designated a small desk near the window. I settled my bag next to it and sat down without uttering a word.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" she asked.

"No, thank you."

She gave me a long, lingering look, punctuated by her infamous small smile.

"Very well. You'll be doing lines for me tonight, miss Harlowe."

I nodded, eyeing the quill and the parchment on the desk in front me. I took the quill and examined it – it was unlike any quill I had seen before. Frowning, I decided it was best not to ask any questions.

"What would you like me to copy?"

"Let's see."

She stood up, still smiling, and walked to the window.

"How about 'I must not use violence against my classmates'."

I arched an eyebrow – Montague was hardly my 'classmate' – but I nodded anyway. Umbridge then turned to face me, giving me a questioning look.

"Well, why aren't you writing, miss Harlowe?"

I frowned.

"You haven't given me any ink," I said hesitantly.

She smiled again, a weird expression on her face. It was like her eyes were suddenly glistening.

"Oh, you don't need any ink. Now, begin."

No ink? I glanced at the quill – maybe it was a new kind of quill that didn't require any ink. So I started writing on the piece of parchment, mindlessly, hoping she wouldn't want me to write it too many times. Perhaps if this didn't last too long, I would still have time to –

Ow ! A sudden, sharp pain on the back on my left hand made me hiss. I tried to go on writing, but the pain didn't go away – so I looked at it, and I felt a cold shiver run through my spine. On the back of my hand, one by one, appeared bloody letters, as if someone was carving them through my very flesh. After a few seconds, I understood what the letters where – it was the same line I had been writing with the quill.

I stared at my hand, then at the quill, and then at Umbridge, who was still looking out the window, her smile still on her face. I couldn't believe what was happening – she was torturing me. Had she been doing this to all the students she had in detention? Had she been doing this to Harry? Surely he would have said something. My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at Umbridge. I knew she was awful – but that was something else.

Sensing my stare, she turned to me.

"Is there something wrong, miss Harlowe?"

I could have said anything – I could have screamed, I could have insulted her. But somehow, I knew it was not worth it – that whatever I did, my punishment would only get worse. The semester had started over two months ago – if someone had reported her, it hadn't changed anything. So I swallowed my pride, shook my head, and kept writing.

When I walked back to the Gryffindor Tower, Fred and George were waiting for me outside the Common Room. They were both smiling, exchanging excited whispers – clearly they had good news. But when they saw me, both their smiles faded – I must have looked awful.

"Are you all right?" George asked, frowning.

I sighed, unable to find the words. My hand hurt like hell – and inevitably, my eyes filled with tears.

"Hey, hey," he said softly, taking me into his arms.

"Bloody hell, what did she do to you?" muttered Fred.

I took a deep breath, and showed them my hand. They blinked, and none of us spoke for a few seconds. Then Fred slowly took my fingers, examining my hand.

"She did this to you?"

"Not her directly," I said quietly. "She has a quill… Er – a special quill of some sort. You write with it, and it… it…"

"It carves it on your hand," completed Fred for me. "That's… that's just sick."

"It's torture," said George. "You've got to say something."

I shook my head.

"I don't want to make it worse, George."

"What could be worse than that?!"

"I don't know, but I'm not sure I want to find out! If she's capable of this, who knows what she's capable of! And I'm not the first one who has had detention with her, so clearly, she's doing it right under Dumbledore's nose!"

"How can no one have denounced her yet?" said Fred.

"Maybe they did," I shrugged. "But maybe Dumbledore couldn't do anything. He hasn't been exactly present this year. We never see him."

"You think Dumbledore would just let something like this happen?" said George.

"No, of course not!" I cried out.

I sighed, feeling completely hopeless and tired.

"She's right, mate," said Fred. "Maybe his hands are tied, with all those new decrees…"

"I just – I have a hard time believing Dumbledore would let her torture everyone. Let alone Harry. He had detention with Umbridge like, a hundred times, right?"

I stared at him. Harry, of course!

"I'll ask him about it," I said. "Maybe he knows more than us about it."

"But Adds –"

"I want to talk to him before anything. Then, I'll decide. All right?"

There was a short silence.

"Does it hurt?" asked George, pointing my hand.

"Not so much anymore," I muttered.

"You can't lie to us, Adds. We know you too well for that," sighed Fred.

"C'mon, let's try and find something to make you feel better. Maybe Angelina will –"

"No," I interrupted.

They both stared at me.

"No?" they repeated.

"I don't want to see anyone. I just – I don't want them to – I don't want everyone to know, all right? Not now. Please."

Fred stared at me like I was mad, but George's hand went up to stroke my hair.

"Okay, Adds. Let's go find someplace quiet and forget about this whole thing."

I nodded, bringing myself close to him. Fred sighed, but gave me a smile.

"I know just the place," he said, placing his arm around my shoulder.

"Kitchens?" said George.

"Kitchens."

For the first time that evening, I smiled. We walked away from the portrait of the Fat Lady, and I thought that however hard she tried, there was one thing Umbridge just couldn't take away from us.

I didn't find Harry that evening, and neither the day after that – luckily, we had a D.A. meeting on Wednesday night. After he had demonstrated the spell of that day – Stupefy – I walked to him, determined to ask him about Umbridge. My hand still hurt – I had hidden behind my long sleeves all day to avoid looks – it didn't bleed anymore, but it was all red and sensitive.

"Hey, Harry," I smiled, walking up to him.

"Hey."

"Er – could I talk to you? It's er – kind of delicate subject."

He frowned, giving me a weird look – after all, me and Harry weren't particularly close, although we had been friends for five years.

"Sure," he said.

We went to a more private area of the room, between two book shelves.

"What's going on?" he asked when we were alone. "Nothing bad happened, right?"

"No, nothing horrible. But – I just wanted to ask you – you've been on detention with Umbridge, right?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Good memories."

I let out a chuckle.

"And – er - what did she make you do? Did she give you lines?"

Harry then gave me a grave look – his eyes travelled to my hand, that was still hidden under my sleeve. Then, seeing I didn't move, he showed me his own hand – it was covered in scars. I felt my heart skip a beat.

"How many times have you been on detention with her?" he asked.

"Just once. Last night," I answered.

"Talk to Hermione – ask her to give you some Murtlap Essence. It helps healing the cuts."

"All right. Thanks."

He nodded, scratching the back of his head.

"Sorry it happened to you. I thought she was just using it on me."

"Don't apologize, it's not like it's your fault. So you don't know if she uses it with anyone else?"

"No, why?"

"I just thought that – that someone would have said something."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

There was a short silence – I hesitated.

"Why haven't you?" I finally asked quietly.

Harry shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable.

"I thought Dumbledore had other things to do."

"So you haven't talked to him?"

"No. Have you?"

"No. I wanted to get your opinion first."

He nodded.

"I think he already knows."

I stared back at him.

"You do?"

"Yeah. He always knows everything that's happening inside Hogwarts. He probably even knows about this whole thing" he said, pointing the room we were in.

"That's true," I nodded, biting my lip. "So why hasn't he done anything?"

"I honestly don't know."

He looked down at his shoes, and I sensed that there was something more behind all this – but I didn't ask. I knew Harry's life was complicated, and the last thing he needed was me poking inside his business. So I took his hand and squeezed it gently.

"Thanks, Harry. For this, and… for all this" I said, gesturing the room. "It's really good for all of us."

He nodded and smiled.

"I'm glad I can help."

I smiled back, and we went back to the rest of the group to finish practice. Despite the seriousness of the situation, my talk with Harry had me feel better – perhaps because I knew there was someone out there that knew exactly how I felt. Therefore, I spent the next hour practicing Stupefy with Lee.

When the meeting ended, I went to see Hermione to ask her about the Murtlap Essence. She gave me the same grave look Harry had given me, but told me how to get some and how to use it. I thanked her, and after I went to get the ingredients, me and the twins went to the secret room to prepare the solution.

"So what did Harry say?" asked Fred, straining the tentacles.

"He reckons Dumbledore already knows."

"If he knows, why wouldn't he do something about it?"

I shrugged, eyeing the smelly, yellow solution. George sighed. We were silent for a while, as Fred kept mixing. My eyes travelled to the back of my hand – I could barely read the words anymore, but I knew they were there – and the memory of the pain made me shiver.

"All right, Adds. Dig in."

I nodded, and slowly put my hand in the yellow solution.

"How long are you supposed to keep it there?" George asked.

"Hermione said around ten minutes."

He nodded, and the room fell silent again. I rubbed my eye, suddenly feeling tired.

"While we're waiting…" started Fred.

I looked up at him. He was smiling mysteriously.

"There's something we want to talk to you about."

"We wanted to tell you last night, but with that whole Umbridge thing…"

"What is it?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

Fred and George exchanged a look. Then Fred reached into his bag and handed me a newspaper clip. It was from the Daily Prophet. I took it – it was from the adverts section. Someone had drawn a wide circle around one – I read it, frowning.

"'Wide two-floor locale on Diagon Alley available for rent'?"

I glanced at the twins – both had huge grins on their faces.

"Why would you –"

I stopped as I realized the reason why they had shown me this. I gaped at them, feeling my heart skip a beat.

"Is this – you're thinking – for the shop?"

They nodded.

"Bloody hell!" I exclaimed, smiling, nearly knocking over the Murtlap Essence. "Do you know what it looks like?"

"No idea," shrugged Fred. "We wrote to the bloke who put the advert – he wrote back yesterday, set up a visit the day after Christmas."

"He was really chuffed to hear from us. Says he's been trying to rent the place for months."

"That's brilliant! And on Diagon Alley, too!"

"We know – it would be perfect. We just hope it's not too dodgy," said Fred.

"But we'll make it work even if it is."

"Oh, I know you will," I smiled.

I looked at both of them – they were beaming. I felt like my heart could burst out of my chest.

"Oh, I'm so happy for you!" I cried out. "You better take pictures for me!"

Fred gave me a weird look.

"Why would we do that?"

"Yeah, Adds, you're coming with us – it's not like you have a choice."

"Really?!"

They both glared at me, and then I couldn't help myself – I took my hand out of the Murtlap Essence and jumped forward to hugged them both tightly, ignoring their cries of protest.