☤ Pseudonym ☤

~Chapter Nine~

At eight o'clock on Friday, I gently pushed open the door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Umbridge's course aims no longer stained the blackboard and everything else was neatly packed away. 

I had just come from Quidditch tryouts and was still wearing my muddy uniform. I smiled as I pictured Umbridge's reaction to my unseemly attire. It had taken a lot of convincing, but I had managed to drag Fay along to the tryouts. She was wholly set on the idea that she would be a rubbish Keeper and was born only to be a beater. 

This notion was proved to be entirely correct as she missed all but one of the shots at the hoops. However, Angelina recognised her skills on a broom and decided to put her as a sub. Fay was over the moon, despite there being no guarantees of her actually playing at all this season, and talked about it nonstop for the rest of the evening. I was almost glad of the detention as an excuse to escape her chatter. 

As I reached for the handle to Umbridge's office it was suddenly yanked open and a hurried figure stormed out. He looked up at me as he passed and I was greeted by a pair of swirling green eyes. 

Harry took a short intake of breath and then without a word, turned and quickly left the room.

That was strange, I thought.

"Come in, Miss Riddle," a sugary voice called out. I entered cautiously, looking around the room. I had only been in here once before when Barty was its occupant. What was once packed with various instruments and artefacts for the detection of wrongdoing and concealment, was now coated in a thick layer of sickly pink objects.

The surfaces had been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases stuffed with dried flowers and on one of the walls was a large collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a fat technicolour kitten wearing a grotesque bow around its neck. They were so foul that I stared at them, transfixed, until Umbridge spoke again.

"It looks a little different, doesn't it? I'm sure you remember the previous resident very well." she grinned a little manically. 

I swallowed as I tried to brush off her attempt to provoke me. I smiled as sweetly as I could manage, "Yes, it definitely does."

"Take a seat, Miss Riddle.", she gestured towards a pink straight-backed chair. A piece of blank parchment lay on the table in front of it. 

She watched me with her head slightly tilted to the left, smiling widely, as I lowered myself onto the seat. "Stop." she said suddenly, before I even touched the chair. She waved her wand and conjured a small pink towel. It floated down slowly and rested where I meant to be sitting. "That's better. We wouldn't want you to get in anymore trouble for sullying any of the furniture, would we?" 

I looked down at my muddy uniform and nodded carefully. This woman was dangerous. Anyone could see that. I took a seat once more, but now on top of the soft towel. 

"Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Miss Riddle." she smiled.

"I'm afraid I didn't bring my quill, Professor." 

"Not to worry. You won't be using your quill anyway." she opened a draw beside her.  "You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."

She handed me a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point. I immediately recognised it. Barty had used this on me when I was first learning how to write. I could still feel its bite as it tore apart the flesh on my hand. However, this pain was nothing compared to what else I had experienced. I smirked right back at her. Her smile faltered for a second.

"I want you to write, I must not tell lies." she said softly.

I pulled up my sleeve to reveal my scarred hand. "Where would you like it, Professor. I'm afraid there's not much room left." 

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth several times, trying to find something to counter this unexpected turn of events.

Finally she composed herself and spoke again, "I'm sure the quill will find a space for it. Off you go."

She moved over to her desk, sat down and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for marking. I raised the quill and lowered it down to the page. 

The acrid scratching of the quill as it was dragged across the parchment, took me back to when I had first used it. I shook off the horrid memories and continued to carve nonsense into my skin.

The pain was gentle in comparison to the Cruciatus curse and I found myself becoming numb to it as time passed.

I knew Umbridge was watching me for signs of weakness, but I refused to show any. When her eyes met mine I gave her a small smile, which caused her wrinkled mouth to purse tightly. 

"You may go, Miss Riddle." she said after a few hours. I quickly stood and turned towards the door. "And don't let me catch you disobeying the rules ever again, or this will be a walk in the park in comparison to what your punishment will be." 

My mind immediately thought of the Cruciatus curse, but I dismissed it quickly. She was a Ministry official, she would never do that.

I left her office quickly and took the steps down two at a time. The school was quite deserted; it was surely past midnight. I walked hastily back to the Gryffindor corridor. I could still feel the dried blood coating my hand, despite the wounds healing as soon as they were created. 

I entered the common room after mumbling the password. I ran up to my dormitory to grab my pyjamas and take a brief shower. As the water hit my body sobs racked my frame. It was as if Barty was here with me. The ever present fear of going back to him, back to that life, suffocated me. Even though I knew he now locked away I felt his tortuous being around me in moments like these. 

Not wanting any of my friends to hear my suffering I decided tonight was another night to be spent on the sofa. I grabbed one of the soft red and gold blankets and curled up in front of the crackling fire. My mind swirling with discombobulated thoughts of my painful past, present and future. 

-----

I was woken up several times the next morning by people hurrying off to breakfast. Each time I groaned and then went back to sleep. I was finally shaken awake fully by someone. 

I mumbled a string of curses and opened my tired eyes. I could feel the strong ache of my left hand and stretched my fingers wide in order to try and alleviate it. "Does it still hurt?" I frowned and looked up to who had disturbed me. "Mine does too, cold water helps a little."

"Ground Mandrake Root is better." I murmured. Harry's eyebrows raised slightly.

"Oh... okay thanks." he mumbled in reply. "Well lessons are starting soon, so I thought I'd wake you. Why were you sleeping down here anyway? Bad dream?" my heart fluttered as his eyes gazed down at me.

I grimaced and looked away, "More like bad reality. Anyway, thanks Harry. I'll see you in potions." I stood up and walked up to my dorm, leaving him sitting by himself. "Pull yourself together, woman." I whispered to myself.