A/N: I actually wrote this one at like 12:30 am this morning. I thought I was never going to get any sleep..but I did! So anyways this is just another filler, nothing major (well nothing too major at least..hehehehe). R&R!

"Your previous instruction for this subject has been disturbingly uneven," Umbridge said passing out new books, "But you will be pleased to know, from now on you will be following a carefully structured, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic."

I flipped through the pages, looking at it oddly. There was something wrong with these books. Hermione raised her hand.

"Yes?" Umbridge asked.

"There's nothing in here about using defensive spells," Hermione said.

"Using spells?" Umbridge laughed, "Why I can't imagine why you would need to use spells in my classroom."

"We're not gonna use magic?" Ron asked.

"You'll be learning about defensive spells, in a secure risk-free way," Umbridge said.

"Well, what use is that?" Harry asked, "If we're gonna be attacked, it won't be risk-free."

"Students will raise their hands when they speak in my class," Umbridge snapped, "It is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be sufficient to get you through your examinations, which after all is what school is all about!"

"And how is theory supposed to prepare us for what's out there?" Harry asked.

"There is nothing out there, dear," Umbridge said, "Who would you imagine would want to attack children like yourself?"

"Oh, I don't know,"Harry said, "Maybe Lord Voldemort?"

There were a few whispers in the room and I saw a few people shiver. The fact that Voldemort returned set people even more off edge; even though some people didn't believe it.

"Now let me make this quite plain," Umbridge said, "You have been told that a certain Dark Wizard is at large once again. This...is...a...lie!"

"It's not a lie, I saw him!" Harry said, "I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge said.

"So according to you Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?" Harry asked.

Rosaline winced at the sound of his name. She was still a little weak about the subject of Cedric's death. Who could blame her?

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident," Umbridge said.

"It was murder," Harry said, "Voldemort killed him. You must know this-"

"Enough!" Umbridge snapped, "Enough."

"It's the truth," I spoke up, "Harry wouldn't lie."

"I thought I said that students will raise their hands in my classroom to speak," Umbridge hissed.

I then raised my hand.

"Yes," Umbridge growled.

"Voldemort is back," I said, "The only people that are lying about his returning are those in the Ministry. Including the Minister, himself."

A few people stared at me in shock, including Ron, Hermione, Rosaline and Harry. They knew it was the truth but they were surprised that I had the guts to say it out loud in class.

"You shall not insult the Minister of Magic in my classroom," Umbridge almost shrieked, "Detention, Miss White!"

I didn't care that I had detention. Sometimes I wished that I could use the Constitution as my defense, but we were in England not America.

"What the bloody hell Aaralyn?" Ron said as we left class.

"You could be in great trouble for what you just did," Hermione said.

"Spare me the lecture, Hermione," I sighed, "I did the right thing."

"No," Rosaline said, "It might have been the truth, but you don't just tell off a teacher like that."

"I only got detention," I said, "It's obviously not that big of a deal if I got detention."

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. Of course she disapproved, it was Hermione. A part of me didn't blame her for being mad, but most of me was patting myself on the back for a job well done.

Rosaline's POV

Our next class was Potions with Slytherin. Great, the two things I hated most put into one; Potions and Slytherin. Aaralyn and I sat next to each other and waited for class to begin.

"When will Satan's spawns arrive?" I asked Aaralyn.

She checked the grandfather clock that sat in the corner of the room.

"Well if I'm right...and I usually am," Aaralyn said, "In 5, 4, 3, 2...now."

At that moment several obnoxious voices entered the room, including Malfoy. He casually walked by us and glared at Aaralyn.

"White," he spat.

"Malfoy," she hissed in reply.
"Still hanging out with the usual freaks, I see," Malfoy nodded towards me.

I guess he's back to his normal, cruel self.

"I see your still hanging out with the usual dumbasses," Aaralyn nodded to Crabbe and Goyle, "Seriously Malfoy are you too lazy to get some civilized friends?"

"We are civilized," Crabbe butted in.

"I didn't ask for your opinion," Aaralyn snapped.

"Someone better teach you how to talk to your superiors," Malfoy said.

"You don't mean yourself, do you?" I asked, "Because then you would be lying."

"Don't talk to me that way," Malfoy hissed, "You filthy little mudblood."

"Now Malfoy," Aaralyn growled, "Let us not forget what I did to your nose last year."

Malfoy glared, rolled his eyes and walked away. Aaralyn looked at me with a sympathetic smile.

"I'm fine," I sighed.

"Hey, did you notice that Goyle lost weight?" Aaralyn asked.

"Yeah," I nodded, "But I think Crabbe found it."

Aaralyn busted out laughing causing me to laugh as well. Suddenly Snape walked into the room, and we immediately stopped.

"Today we will be making a simple Sleeping Draught," Snape said, "I will put into groups of two. The first group is Crabbe and Lovegood."

Crabbe groaned and slumped over to the seat next to Luna. At least she wasn't with Malfoy.

"Goyle and Quincy," Snape said off of the list.

I zoned out for a while and started to fiddle with my pencil.

"...White and Parkinson," Snape said.

Aaralyn rolled her eyes; she was paired off with Pansy. Poor girl.

"Moriali and Malfoy," Snape finished the list.

My eyes widened.

Malfoy? Please tell me there is another person in this class by the name of Malfoy!

Draco Malfoy walked over to the seat next to me and sat down. He smirked when he saw the terrified look on my face.

Someone murder me.

"Your ingredients are already on your table," Snape said, "The directions are on page 97 of your textbooks. You may begin."

I pulled out my book and flipped to page 97. I kept my eyes on the pages, nowhere else. I didn't want to look at Malfoy. I tried to ignore his stares, I tried to pretend that he didn't exist, but it didn't work. He was still there no matter what.

I poured in the first two ingredients and began to stir. The potion slowly turned into a light green. The directions then said that I had to 'add the mermaid's hair as I was stirring.'
Stupid directions making me talk to Malfoy. Damn you!

"Hand me the mermaid's hair," I said.

Malfoy lazily gave me the mermaid's hair. The snake-like feel of it palm made me squirm on the inside. I tossed it into the cauldron as I continued to stir.

"You're stirring it the wrong the way," Malfoy said.

I looked at him surprised. I thought he was too full of pride to talk to me. I didn't answer him though, I just gave him a questioning look.

"You're supposed to stir it counter-clockwise," Malfoy said.

He slowly grabbed my hand and moved it in a counter-clockwise circle. He kept his hand on mine for a while. He was starting to get uncomfortably close.

"Thanks," I said.

He finally let go and let me continue. Every now and then he would give me a tip or help out when I needed an extra hand. He only made small talk, no full conversations.

The potion was finally finished. Snape walked by our table and glanced into the cauldron.

"A job well done," Snape said dully, "10 points to Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

I sat down and pulled out a book to read. I could feel Malfoy eyes burning holes in me. Finally it got on my nerves.

"Do you have something to say, or are you going to keep staring at me?" I asked.

"I wanted to...apologize," he said, as if the word was foreign to him, "For what I said to you."

I looked at him in shock.

"I don't believe," I smirked, "Draco Malfoy, apologizing. We should check to see if Hell is frozen over."

"Do you want the apology or not?" Malfoy snapped.

"I don't care, honestly," I said, "But I forgive you."

"Thanks," Malfoy said.

"Whatever," I said.

I continued to read, but one thought kept bugging me. I closed the book and faced Malfoy.

"Why did you apologize anyway?" I asked, "I thought mudbloods weren't the type to apologize to."

"I don't know," Malfoy said, "You seem...nice."

Class finally ended and Malfoy left with the other Slytherins. Aaralyn walked over to me with a confused look.

"What was that all about?" she asked, "What did he say?"

"He...apologized," I said.

"No seriously, what did he do?" she asked.

"I am serious," I said, "He said he was sorry."

Aaralyn raised a brow and looked at the group of Slytherins.

"Weird," she said, stretching out the word.

I nodded in agreement.

You had to be more than just 'nice' to get an apology from Draco Malfoy.

Aaralyn's POV

Classes had ended for the day, which was a relief but then again it wasn't. I now had to go to detention. I walked with Harry to Umbridge's office. It was moments like these made me wish I had a slow-motion button; that way it would take me forever to go to detention.

Unfortunately we already made it to the door. Harry slowly knocked.

"Come in," her nauseating voice called.

We both slowly came in and I swear to God I almost choked on my breath. Everything was pink. The walls were pink, the desk was pink, even the pens that were in a neatly placed line on her desk were pink. And the walls were covered with little china dishes that had pictures of kittens. On top of that, the kittens were meowing. I almost believed that I went to Hell.

"You two are going to be doing some lines for me," Umbridge said as we sat down.

Harry opened his bag for his quill but Umbridge stopped him.

"No, not with your quill," she said, "You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Now, I want you to write 'I must not tell lies.'"

She gave us black quills with black feathers. It was the only civilized color in this room beside our uniforms.

"And you, Miss White," she said, with the smallest sneering tone in her bubbly voice, "You will write 'I must not insult the Ministry of Magic.'"

"How many times?" Harry asked.

"Let's see..." Umbridge thought, "As long as it takes for the message to sink in."

"You haven't given us any ink," Harry said.

"Oh, you won't need any ink," Umbridge said.

I then started to write on the parchment in front of me. I didn't understand how I was supposed to show I had written anything if I had no ink.

God she is such an airhead.

Suddenly a small pain flicked in my left hand. As I continued to write, the pain got worse. Suddenly ink started to spill from the quill as I wrote. It was a deep red, almost like blood. The pain in then became unbearable. I looked over at my left hand and held back a gasp; words were carved into my skin. I must not insult the Ministry of Magic, it read. The words were growing red from the burning feeling. I then looked back at my paper and the blood red ink. I then realized, it was my blood. I glanced over at Harry's paper, it was the same with him.

Umbridge walked in front of Harry with a straight face.

"Yes?" she asked.

Harry hesitated and looked at his scarred hand.

"Nothing," he said.

Umbridge bent down to look at Harry eye-to-eye.

"That's right," she smiled, "Because deep down you know that you deserve to be punished. Don't you Mr. Potter?"

Oh my God, I hate you!

"Keep writing," she said.

I sadly continued to write, letting the pain return to my hand. I looked up at her and gave her a death glare.

Bitch.

Finally it was over. I gave Umbridge the paper, picked up my bag and quickly walked to the door.

"Miss White," Umbridge stopped me.

Jesus! What now?

"Yes?" I asked as I turned back around.

"I don't the message hasn't exactly sunken in yet," she said, "So I will stretch your detention service to everyday after class, until the end of next week."

My eyes widened. Until next week? What the hell?

"Thank you," she giggled, "You may go now."

I stormed out of the office with a glare of pure anger on my face. Harry looked at me as if I was about to kill him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"No," I growled, "I have to stay in detention with her until the end of next week."

"Next week?" Harry asked, "That's not fair."

"You think?" I asked sarcastically, "God I hate her."

"Tell me about it," he said.

We walked out of the classroom to see Rosaline waiting outside.

"How was it?" she asked.

"Just dandy," I answered sarcastically, "I now have detention until the end of next week."

"Oh God that's terrible," she said.

"I know," I sighed.

"How we blow things over at the Gryffindor common room," Harry said.

"Sure," Rosaline smiled.

"Yeah I'd love to go," I agreed.

Harry smiled and told us to follow him. We came to a large painting of a big, older woman in a silk gown.

"Password?" she asked.

"Wattlebird," Harry said.

The painting moved from the wall, revealing the entrance to the common room. We walked in and saw bunches of Gryffindors hanging out. A few were sitting by the fireplace, some were playing cards, and I even saw Neville enjoying his time with his plant. I saw George and Fred giving out their magic sweets to first years, making them grow warts or get fevers.

I sneakily tip-toed over behind George and placed my hands over his eyes.

"Guess who?" I asked.

"Well blimey I just don't know," George said in mock puzzlement, "This just might take forever."

I laughed and pulled my hands away. I walked in front of him and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

"Why didn't you let me guess?" George teased.

"Are you kidding?" I asked, "I thought you were about to hurt yourself from thinking too hard."

Fred chuckled as George gave me a fake offended look. I giggled and kissed his cheek.

"Better?" I asked.

"No," he said.

He then pulled me closer to him and kissed me passionately on the lips. I could hear Fred scoff and walk away. George finally parted from me, leaning his forehead against mine.

"Now I am," he smiled.

I smiled back and giggled. He kissed me again and let me go. He then looked down at my hands and his eyes widened.

"What's wrong with your hand?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said.

I waved up my right hand, which had no scars.

"See?" I said.

George rolled his eyes and grabbed onto my left hand. I winced from the pain that was wearing off, but very slowly. George gasped when he saw my hand.

"What did that gargoyle make you do?" he asked.

"Write," I said, "With her 'special quill.'"

"You should go see Madame Pomfrey," he said worriedly.

"I'll be fine," I sighed. I then lowered my voice, "I can heal wounds, remember? It's a part of the whole 'Keeper' thing."

I brushed my index finger and thumb against my scars, carefully tracking the center of the pain. I then pressed them in deeply. My whole hand turned stiff in pain. I held back a shout as I healed the wound, digging my teeth into my lower lip. The worse part about being a Stitch, was that healing the wound felt ten times worse than first getting it. But luckily it was soon over; the scars were gone and so was the pain. I sighed in relief and smiled, showing George my scar-free hand.

"All better," I said, "I better get used to that, I have detention with Umbridge until the end of next week."

"That's a bloody long time," George said, "Does she hate you that much?"

"I guess so," I sighed.