Chapter Eight-I Am Who I Was Made

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Chapter Eight-I Am Who I Was Made

Everywhere I went, it felt as if there were people watching and pointing at me. I know I had made of a bold move, one I was starting to regret due to the attention that it attracted. Some people were intimidated somehow. I kept to myself and did something unexpected, proposing false sophistication. The person I showed to my peers was far to the person I felt on the inside.

The haircut was a relief, I must say so myself, but it didn't stop the nightmares from creeping into my mind. I hadn't gotten very much sleep last night, but I had to go to my classes in a very groggy state. I stumbled into what should be my dormitory to change into my uniform. A yawn escaped my lips as I tried to properly tie my tie whilst walking into the common room.

"Bloody hell, Elora, we're going to be late for Umbridge's class if you keep fumbling with that thing," Draco complained, scaring the life out of me. He rose from his seat on the couch and began to work on my tie for me.

"What about breakfast?" I asked, very confused.

"You slept in. Now hurry up, Umbridge doesn't like to be kept waiting," he reminded as he handed me my grey sweater. I pulled it over my head as we walked to her classroom together. We quickly picked up our pace as we learned how soon class actually was, leaving me out of breath as we arrived. We barely managed to make it on time, sitting in the two desks located at the back of the classroom. Umbridge was taking attendance as she normally did with her sour smile on her face. It grew slightly as she noticed something was much more different than usual.

"I see that Elora isn't here today. Tut, tut. Slytherin house, I remove twenty points for your fellow members idea to skip class," she hummed. The class began to groan and my hand found its way to the air.

"Excuse me, ma'am. I'm right here. I was here when class started," I spoke out, my voice faltering slightly. Her eyes widened when she realized it truly was me, but then the sickly sour smile was back.

"Oh dear. I see you have decided to try out a new hairdo," she said. I blushed in response, embarrassment flooding my cheeks, "trying to be someone we're not, are we?"

"I beg your pardon?" I was completely baffled, not understanding what she meant.

"I'm finding your hair too distracting in my presence. You look too masculine for the pretty young girl I know you are. A simple spell can fix that," she said while reaching for her wand.

"Professor, I am perfectly happy with the way I look. Now may we get on with our studies?" I say through a clenched jaw.

"There will be no talking back in my classes! Minus another twenty points from Slytherin!" She screeched.

"Professor, I find that it's complete rubbish that one students decision on her own accord is distracting our lesson," Draco stepped in, thinking he was helping.

"You're right, Mr. Malfoy," she cooed, "Ms. Granger, I'll be seeing you tonight and for the rest of the week at detention. Now, we may begin."

~

"Elora! I'm so sorry, I thought I was helping," Draco instantly apologized when class ended.

"It's alright, Draco, you didn't know that she would do that," I try to smile, rubbing it off. Detention couldn't be as bad as it seemed, nothing I haven't faced before. I noticed Draco grimace as we left the classroom, slightly scaring me. My eyes diverted to where he was looking to be met with the two happy-go lucky Weasley twins.

"Elora!" George cheered as they walked towards us.

"I'll leave you with the Weasley's," Draco sneered as he excused himself, heading to his other Slytherin friends.

"What was Malfoy doing here?" Fred questioned as he strutted away.

"Well, Fred, we are in the same house, you know," I remind him, pointing at the Slytherin logo on my robes.

"The girl speaks once more!" George announces for the entire to castle to hear, "by the way, we like the new look."

"Today might the perfect time to try the trademarked Puking Pastilles," Fred suggested once more, "Detentions with Umbridge aren't pretty."

"With enough of these, you'll be out of classes for a whole week!" George adds, trying to support Fred.

"I'm sorry boys, but no thank you. I'm sure I can handle myself," I tell them, "I have dealt with much worse."

~

"Now, Ms. Granger, you can avoid your punishment if you take up the offer to undo the horror that has been done and let me use a reverse spell to clean up your look," Umbridge sickly grins.

"I'm sorry, professor, but no can do," I snarl, "I'm happy the way I am."

"Very well then," she claps her hands, "You will be writing lines as your punishment."

"Perfect. I coincidentally brought my own quill," I smirk, not giving her any satisfaction.

"Oh dear, you won't be needing that," she crooned as she put a deep burgundy quill on my desk, "You will write 'I Am What I Was Made' approximately one thousand times, until you've filled the page."

"And the ink?" I retort, trying to push her until she snaps. I felt strangely out of character, but this woman made my blood boil.

"That won't be necessary at all," she hummed before sitting at her own desk and beginning to grade essays.

'I Am What I Was Made'

My hand began to sting as the words scarred my skin, but I refused to show the pain on my exterior. The words not only carved into my skin, but into my brain. I started off stronger than I had been all year, but it very quickly passed away. The words tore me down one by one. I had no choice in who I was. I had no free will. It spoke true to what I was allowing to happen. The actions of others decided who I am, not myself.

~

I wobbled out of the classroom and wasted no time getting to the common room. I felt very weak due to the blood loss and the lack of meals I had all day. When I had hit the couch I called my own, I was out like a light.

The nightmare droned on that night, much worse than usual. Not only did Draco and Henry throw the insults at me, Umbridge watched and snickered from a farther table. She sipped her tea as if it was nothing, and all I could do was scream. Scream and scream and scream until my throat could handle it no longer.

"ELORA! ELORA! GOD DAMMIT, WAKE UP!" Draco shook me rapidly, giving me minor whiplash. I was gasping for fresh air as his hands wiped away the tears that were still streaming down my face. I grab his hand with my injured one, pulling it down to his side.

"I-I'm okay. I'll be okay," I hiccup, but he takes the hand that had been wounded.

"Is this what she did to you? I swear when my father hears about this," he seethed.

"He'll do what? This is the Ministry of Magic. He can't do anything," I remind him.

"She'll pay," he still growled.

"In time, Draco, in time," I try to calm him. I decide it's the best to finally change the conversation, "what are you doing in the common room so late?"

"Quidditch practice ran long. I had just gotten back," he explained, "Do you sleep in here?"

"The other girls aren't too fond of my screams and nightmares," I inform him. I had scooted over on the couch and offered him a seat and the blanket. He gladly accepted and before I could do anything, I began to doze off, my head resting on Draco's shoulder, the nightmares leaving me alone for the rest of the night.

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