𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓| 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲✔️

𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍|𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍&𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄

MARA WILLIAMS

I let out a hiss as I finally slumped down on my bed, my hand still burning with a strange kind of pain, a result of Umbridge's cursed quill. This wasn't just any wound, this was magic, and a dark magic at that.
-I doubted the ache would stop anytime soon.

How the hell had The Ministry cleared the idea for Umbridge to use something like that at punishment at Hogwarts? Did Dumbledore know about this?
-Somehow I doubted it.

"...Does it still hurt?" Asked Parvati quietly as she sat down next to me staring at the back of my hand. I didn't blame her for staring, it looked pretty grimaced.

I winced, examining the wounds, "-Like a bitch."

"If it makes you feel any better I don't think it was anything personal against you or Hermione, she did the same to Harry and the Weasley twins too." Parvati pursed her lips. "...That woman's evil."

"Tell me about it." The cursive letters still looked as raw as they had several hours ago and still hurt just as much too, every time I flexed my fingers it only served to reopen the wounds which now began to bleed.

"...Still," Parvati shot me a smirk as she stood up, moving to pick something off the dresser besides my bed, "...At least now your hand and face match."

"Great." I drawled, rolling my eyes. "Guess I should go back and ask Umbridge to do my other hand next."
I'd almost forgotten about that until I'd caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror besides Hermione's bed. I looked horrific, most of the minor gashes and scrapes had almost entirely healed over by now but three long, thick scratches still remained just as prominent as ever down the right side of my face.

One begun just above my brow, absent over my eye only to return to tear down my cheekbone, the second only an inch to the right of it, and the third was a smaller, but deeper cut that ran vertically through the side of my lips and stopped at the base of my chin.

"-What's this?" Parvati asked picking up a small foreign pot of dark green paste from the dresser. I instantly recognised it, my mother had used a similar paste frequently to heal any cut or bruise I may have had growing up.
She'd used it on herself too, but her wounds were often far graver than my own...

But how had that tiny pot found its way into my belongings? It took a moment but then it clicked...
-Hermione Granger.
Last night I could've sworn I'd heard her place something on the dresser, and this must've been it, but why?

I really wasn't sure how to feel about the Granger girl anymore, especially because I had absolutely no idea how she felt about me. One minute her wretched cat was trying to claw me to death and she was practically jeering it on, the next she was sticking up for me in front of Umbridge and leaving me gifts to heal myself.

"It's Salutem Serum..." I said suspiciously, slowly taking the small pot from her and turning it over between my palms. I had never seen it outside of my mother's hands before and it felt strange seeing it so out of context. "It's for treating wounds."

"Why don't you try it on your face and hand tonight? You might find it helps."

"Yeah, that's a shout." I flexed my left hand, transfixed by watching as the wounds shifted and warped and a single scarlet tear crawled down my wrist.

"I'm so exited for next week." She whispered off topic after looking around to check that the coast was clear and we were the only two in the dorms.

"Me too." I lied. Earlier in the day I'd approached Parvati about the D.A like I'd said I would to Ron and Harry. She was sceptical at first and rightly so, but after I promised her I would be going too she changed her mind and said she would ask her sister, Padma, who I'd also met on the train, about joining.
Next Tuesday was supposed to be the first meeting of the D.A. though Ron and Harry were still yet to figure out a meeting place big enough to fit all of us and private enough that we wouldn't get caught.