Umbridge's class is torture. She doesn't let us do anything but copy out of the book over and over again. It's terrible. To make things even worse both Ron and Draco are in my Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Ronald just about exploded when he saw my cheek this morning. It's big and puffy but it's not purple which is pleasing. I would hate to have to walk around with a purple cheek. Draco just sits in the back of the class, this stupid sad expression in his eyes every time he looks at me. If he really thinks that's going to work he's kidding himself.

"Are you sure you're alright?" whispers Ron as Umbridge comes in the room.

Nodding I pull out my book, I do not need to get detention again. The lines on my hand are still visible and I have no desire to reopen them.

"You will please copy the approved text four times to ensure maximum retention. There is not need to talk," instructs Umbridge once she is standing in front of the class.

"No need to think is more like it," mumbles Hermione as she begins to copy the words out of the text book.

Unable to stop myself I let out a laugh before quickly looking down and starting to scribble on the paper. Ron's arm is in contact with mine for the duration of the class and I can feel Draco's piercing stare on the back of my neck. I have to get out of this class. Is my dating of Ron even right? Its obvious Hermione isn't pleased with it and neither is Draco. I've got a swollen cheek to prove that. I check my watch; only five more minutes and I can go. Needing time alone to think I plan on going up to the Owlery after class.

The second Umbridge releases us I gather my stuff and leave the room without telling Ron where I am going. He'll wonder, of course, but I'm beyond caring. I'm being terribly horrid to everyone. I wish I could take it all back. Go back to the day I asked and, well…not ask. I don't want it anymore. What am I saying? It's what I'm supposed to do. He is my father after all. Isn't it a child's job to do as their father asks of them? I suppose it is. Yes…yes it is. I'm doing the right thing.

The autumn air is chilly but not enough that I require a jacket. It is quiet except for the quiet chirping of the owls. Taking out a piece of parchment I begin to scribble a letter for Sirius, perhaps he'll know what to do.

Dear Padfoot,

Things at Hogwarts are great but my personal life is in shreds. I broken up with my old boyfriend and have started seeing Ron. He's fabulous and nothing but kind to me but I wonder if I only decided to be with him because I was mad at my ex. I'm utterly confused. How are you doing? Harry and I are coming to visit you over Christmas break though I will have to arrive late. I miss you immensely. Take care of yourself.

You're daughter,

Isabelle

Finding Padfoot, my owl, I attach the letter to his left foot. As he flies off I pray that my letter will get to Sirius. Mail is being checked and there is still a reward out for whoever finds Sirius and brings him to the ministry. Without my father to console in I would have no one. Sometimes I need an older person to share my problems with, someone who has actually been through the same thing.

No point in staying up here. I might as well go back to the common room and face what I've been avoiding. I'll have to figure out what to do about the whole Ron and Draco problem by myself until I get a letter back from Sirius. What a mess I've made of everything.

"Where were you?" questions Ron as I sit on the couch next to him.

"The Owlery, I had to send a letter to Padfoot," I reply, resting my head on his arm.

"Have you heard from him?" asks Harry.

"No, have you?" I reply.

"Not at all, I'm beginning to worry."

"I'm sure Sirius and the rest of the Order is just busy," says Hermione as she walks through the room.

Typical, she won't even stop to talk if I'm with Ron. I do think that is a bit ridiculous. There is no need to show just how jealous she is, everyone already knows. I've got to end this, but being with Ron has opened new doors. I feel warm and alive for once. No, that's a lie; there was a time when I felt like this with Draco. Could we get that back?

"You alright?" asks Ron.

"Just thinking," I reply, tracing a scar on the palm of Ron's hand.

"Can I ask what about?" says Ron sticking to his 'I won't push you' rule he'd come up with the other night. If I don't want to do something I don't have to.

"About, Draco…about you, about dinner," I answer telling the complete truth no use lying.

"Isabelle, he hit you, are you really thinking about going back to him?" Ron demands not even knowing exactly what I was thinking about Draco, though he has it almost spot on.

"I did love him," I reply, avoiding Ron's eyes.

"You still do don't you?" asks Ron.

"I don't know," I answer before closing my eyes. I'm terribly tired and I've still got work to do. For a few hours I will be in the safety of dreams.