I thought I was done seeing dead people, but apparently, the universe has other plans for me.
I'm making my way through the halls and towards Umbridge's office, where I am to serve my detention, a figure passes me, out of the corner of my eye. A figure that, for a moment, I barely notice, until they turn around and begin to walk towards me. "Meiqi, hi!"
"Hi, Cedric." I attempt to force a smile, but it comes out looking ridiculous.
"I like your hair." He eyes me with a pleasant grin on his very much alive face. "It's very…pink. I love pink. People say it's for girls, but I think that's stupid. Anyways, it looks great on you."
"Thanks…"
"Where are you off to?" He asks, trailing behind me as I pick up my speed, in some sort of attempt to outrun him. Maybe if I go fast enough, I'll lose him, but apparently, the dead have some sort of super speed, because he easily keeps up with me.
"Er, detention."
"On the first day? What did you do? You don't strike me as a troublemaking sort of girl, Meiqi."
"I was late to class, is all. I got lost."
"Did your professor not know that you're new this year?"
I shake my head. How he knows I'm new, I haven't a clue, since I don't recall informing him of that, but maybe the dead can read minds or something. "I guess not. Either she didn't know or didn't care, but I don't mind. It's just a detention, it isn't a big deal."
"You're probably right." He claps me on the shoulder, a kind, brotherly gesture, and it sends a jolt of electricity through me, panic suddenly building in every crevice of my being. Because he just touched me. Cedric Diggory just touched me.
Seeing dead people was one thing. Talking to them, having a full on conversation, was another. But to have them touch me, to feel the skin of a dead person on me, that's a horror impossible to describe.
"I need to go." I manage to sputter, stepping away from Cedric, far enough that he can't touch me again. "Don't follow me. Just…forget I exist, yeah? Let's never talk again."
"Wait, what? Meiqi-" He begins, but he's too late, as I've already taken off running down the hall, my feet taking me as far away from him as possible.
I'm only barely on time to Umbridge's office, sweating just as much as I had been earlier today, when I'd dashed to her class. Bloody hell, am I out of shape…well, I suppose that's what a lifetime in a hospital will do to you.
"Miss Chang, you're actually on time." Umbridge greets as I step inside, closing the door behind me. Harry is already here, seated on a chair across from her, pulled up to her desk.
"Yeah, I figured being late to a detention I got because I was late was a bad idea."
"Smart girl. Come, sit." She motions towards the empty chair next to Harry, and I do as she asks, sitting down next to him. "You both will be writing lines for me, today."
"Lines?" Harry raises his eyebrows, and through the thin veil of black hair that lines his forehead, I can see the rumored lightning scar. My breath catches in my throat, as I force myself not to stare at him. I've never even met a famous person before, let alone sit so close to one!
"Yes, lines." She reaches down into the drawer of her desk, grabbing quills and parchment, before sliding them over to us. "Mr. Potter, I'd like you to write I must not tell lies. Miss Chang, you must write I will be on time."
"How many lines do we have to write?" This time, Harry doesn't even try to conceal the anger in his tone, face going red at the blatant accusation of him being a liar.
"Until the message…sinks in." She gives us both a sickeningly sweet smile, before grabbing a cup of tea, and taking a sip out of it.
"We haven't got any ink." Harry says, voice low as he glares at the professor through his glasses.
"You won't be needing it. These are…special quills." She takes another sip from her tea, her weird smile not diminishing. "There will be no need to talk."
Harry grabs the quill, hard enough that his knuckles have gone white, but doesn't protest any further as he begins to write on the parchment in front of him.
I do the same, beginning to write I will be on time with the fancy, ink-less quill. Why hadn't anyone ever thought of those before? The idea was brilliant!
Just as I finish the first two words, a strange sensation builds in my free hand, a weird sort of itch, like a small creature is biting down on my skin. Frowning, I lower my quill and move my attention towards the top of my hand, which has a weird sort of scribble forming, in an irritated shade of red.
I used to get anxiety rashes often, back at St. Mungo's, so maybe it's some sort of minor flare. Merlin knows I have a lot of stuff to be anxious about, after all.
Pushing it aside, I return back to writing my lines, but I only manage to get a few more letters written down before the sensation returns, drawing my attention once more.
No, it isn't a rash, I realize as I examine it more thoroughly. It's words. The words I'm writing.
I look over to Harry, who was already staring at me with a dark gaze.
A silent conversation ensues, where he nudges with his chin towards my hand. It's happening to you too, then?
Yeah. I respond with a nod, then raise my eyebrows. Do we say something?
He shakes his head. It will only give her the satisfaction.
But she's carving into our hands!
You think I don't know that? Don't say anything. She'll only find a way to keep us here longer.
I sigh in defeat, shaking my head as I return to writing my lines, gulping as the itch turns into a sharp pain, growing worse and worse with each line I write. The wound the writing causes is growing deeper, and by the time Harry and I are let out of detention a few hours later, both of our hands are bloody messes, dripping the red liquid onto the stone floor beneath us.
Well, you can certainly say Umbridge and I will not, in fact, be good friends.
"Are you alright?" Harry turns to look at me, concern evident in his expression. "Your hand looks quite…rough."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay." I manage a shaky smile, though my hand is sending pain throughout my entire body. "Are you okay?"
He nods. "Just pissed. Who does she think she is?"
"She's mad." I agree with the shake of my head. "She's a disgrace to the color pink."
At this, Harry cracks a smile, though as another drop of blood drips from his hand and onto the floor, the grin he wears fades into a grimace.
"I know a spell," I begin without realizing it. "A bandaging spell. It'll help with the bleeding. If you'd like me to do it."
"Really? That would be brilliant."
I pull my wand out of the pocket of my robe, and wave it. In an instant, white bandages form on his hand, wrapping it tight and keeping the blood from leaking out. I do the same to my own hand, flinching slightly at the harsh contact it makes with my skin.
"Thanks." He examines his wrapped up hand, before giving me a kind smile. "Meiqi, right?"
I nod.
"I know your sister. She's…nice."
"Yeah, she's pretty cool." I agree, though I'm not quite sure I agree with my words. After the way she treated me this morning, I'm still pissed, though I know I ought not to be. She's mourning. It's cruel of me to hold her to standards she can't meet in her current mental state.
"I'm surprised you're in Slytherin. You seem much…nicer, than most people in your house."
"Trust me, I was as surprised as you are. I figured I'd be in Ravenclaw, with Cho. Though I'm not as bright as her, so maybe it's best I'm not."
"I can walk you back to your common room, if you'd like." Harry offers, and when I frown, he continues, "I'd like to wait a bit before going back to the Gryffindor common room. Maybe Ron and Hermione will go to bed, and I won't have to deal with any of their concerns about my hand."
"How is it you know where the Slytherin common room is?" I raise my eyebrows as we begin to walk down the halls.
"That's a long story."
"Fair enough."
"Why is it you're new to Hogwarts? Did you go to a different school?"
"That's also a long story." I repeat his statement.
He rolls his bright green eyes. "If you insist. I'll just ask Cho."
"You're friends with her, then?"
He nods, though he suddenly seems unsure of himself. "I guess. I think we are. I didn't know she had a sister, though, so maybe we aren't as close as I hoped."
The tone in his voice is so strange, so desperate, that I can immediately tell he holds strong feelings for Cho. I'm inept at the world of romance, and even I can tell, given the longing in his eyes and the strain in his tone, the rejection.
Instantly, I jump in to fix it, hating seeing him discouraged. "Er, I don't think many people knew I existed until recently, so you shouldn't worry about that. It doesn't sound like she talks about me very often."
Harry's brow furrows together. "Why do you suppose that is?"
Because she's embarrassed of me. My mind jumps to before I can stop it, the thought buried so deeply inside of me, I rarely allow myself to indulge in the idea. Embarrassed of her weak, ill sister who was probably going to die anyways, so why would she talk about me?
Before I can answer him, a voice from behind us jumps in. "Now, what do we have here?"
"Bugger off, Malfoy." Harry hisses as we turn around to face him, a scowl written on his face.
"Meiqi, you should know better than to hang out with scum like Potter." Draco drawls, ignoring Potter entirely and instead focusing on me. I can't figure out why that may be.
"He's nice." Is all I manage to say.
"That's one word for him, sure." He rolls his eyes. "Maybe I was wrong - maybe you don't belong in Slytherin after all."
"Leave her alone, Malfoy." Harry takes a step towards him, fists clenching and unclenching. For a moment, I have the horrible impression that he's going to punch Draco, but he doesn't, instead simply glaring at him through his glasses.
"Got yourself a girlfriend, Potter?"
Before Harry can say anything, I open my mouth, desperate to stop the direction of the conversation, as discomfort fills me. "I can find the common room by myself, I think. Thank you for walking me, Harry. I'll see you in class tomorrow."
He opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it is, I'll never know, as I swiftly begin to walk away.
Draco is left at a crossroad - either continue to antagonize Harry, or follow after me instead.
He chooses the latter, as I can hear his footsteps trailing behind me, until he's finally caught up with my brisk pace. "What happened to your hand?" He asks, looking down at my bandage. If I didn't know better, I'd say there's concern in his tone.
"Nothing. Don't worry about it." I give him a faint smile, tucking my hand behind my back.
"Meiqi," he continues, his grey eyes piercing into mine. "What happened to your hand? Potter had the same bandage. Bloody hell, please don't tell me you did some blood ritual or something together."
"Blood ritual?" I can't help the weird grin that slides onto my lips. "What are you on about?"
"I've read weird books, where people bind each other's souls together by connecting their blood."
"Why would I bind my soul to someone I met today?" I challenge.
He shrugs. "Fair enough. What happened, then?"
"Like I said, it doesn't matter." I insist, before swiftly changing the subject, before he can press me further on my Umbridge - induced injury. "What is it with you and Harry, anyways? Why do you hate him so much?"
"If you have to ask, you wouldn't understand." He shakes his head, blonde hair flopping about. "But you'd do well, staying away from him. Got it?"
"I don't see why you care who I spend my time with. We met a day ago. You don't know me, and I don't know you."
"Maybe I want to know you." He smirks, and I roll my eyes, just as we approach the entrance to the common room.
"Don't be ridiculous. No one wants to know me." The last sentence slips out of me before I can stop it, and I freeze, pressing my lips together in irritation. What the hell was wrong with me?
"What is that supposed to mean?" Draco's brow furrows together.
"Nothing. Never mind. Just…ignore me. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" And before he can say anything, I give the password, and step inside the common room, leaving a very baffled Draco behind.