Later that evening, after Aine was done with the classes she had on that day, she finally met up with her friends momentarily before she was off to detention. She bid Ginny farewell, much to the girl's displeasure. The Weasley girl even pleaded with Aine to ditch her punishment session even knowing that her friend would be in much greater trouble if she did. Sighing, they parted ways with a heavy heart and Aine proceeded on to the classroom she had her Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson earlier.
She was dragging her feet, wondering what Umbridge would ask her to do for detention. She hoped it wasn't something too extreme yet then again, her professor had seemed like a very intense person even in class. The corridors of Hogwarts were dimming as the Sun was setting, leaving a warm glow in the passages. Students were hurrying to the Great Hall except for Aine who was lumbering in the opposite direction, heading deeper into the castle. She wanted detention to be done and over with so she could be with her friends, they're probably gossiping together by now at the Gryffindor table.
What a day... Aine thought to herself, that getting detention in her first Defense Against the Dark Arts class was an achievement since she rarely gets punished. Not to mention, it was due to her telling 'lies' in class. She let out a scoff, crossing her arms as she clutches herself as she walks, this was unbelievable.
Her train of thoughts came to an end when she stood in front of the classroom door. She took a deep breath before knocking on the wooden door and just as she was about to let herself in, the door opened.
"Aine?"
The girl shot up, meeting a boy wearing glasses. "Harry?" she called, puzzled. "What are you doing here?" she asks, happy to see a familiar face.
Harry Potter pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, "Detention, you?" he replies, clearly not in the mood to have detention.
Aine grins, "Same." She walks into the classroom and Harry closes the door. "Sirius and Remus would be proud of us having detention," she jokes and the boy chuckles, nodding.
"Surprised to see you here, I thought you were supposed to be the good student," Harry said, walking alongside Aine towards the short stairway to the professor's office.
"Thought I was one too. Guess not anymore," she shrugs.
They headed up the stairs towards the arched doorway, once a nice polished brown colour had turned dull and it was now stained over with deep pink. What an unexpected makeover Professor Lupin's ex-office had become. Harry grimaced at the sight while Aine simply stifled a laugh. "Well, it is a pop of colour," she commented sarcastically before knocking on the pink door.
"Professor, it's Aine Estoileon."
"And Harry Potter."
They waited, counting down the time and it was only after exactly five seconds did a sweet sugary voice came, "Come in!" it said.
Swinging open the door, Aine and Harry entered the office and immediately cringes at the amount of pink there was in the room. Wow... Aine heard Harry say in his mind, whistling as his voice was full of mockery. Her lips twitched, threatening to curl but she held on to a stony face.
The office was unlike anything Aine had imagined. She had been in here at least twice in the past when it was occupied by a different owner. But never it was so full of colour or... Full of cats. The stoned walls were painted in a light pink colour with hundreds of unique pink plates decorated on the walls, each hosting a different cat that moved. The windows were adorned with flowery pink curtains with lace and plush pink velvet chairs were placed against the walls.
Even the table was stained in a cherry-pink colour with a magenta flower motif mat placed above it, without a question. The stationary were all perfectly positioned and the pencils were all neatly placed, with equal distance between them. Aine's eyes trailed around before settling on Umbridge's icy gaze that seemed to hold a proud look in her eyes. "Good evening, Mister Potter. Miss Estoileon," their professor greeted.
"Good evening..." the two replied, trying to be as polite as possible.
"Sit," Umbridge beckons with a nod and Aine glanced at Harry before they both took their respective seats with the desk and chair provided. She looks down onto the table, a couple of parchment lay across the placemat surface and a small hourglass stood in front of her eyes.
Aine raised a brow, looking up to her professor. Will she ask us to sign some autographs as a form of punishment? she questions in her mind.
"You're going to be doing some lines for me today, Mister Potter, Miss Estoileon," Umbridge stated and Aine reaches for her bag as she plans to take out her quill. "No, not with your quill," the professor said. "Going to be using a rather special one of mine," she added, a hint of excitement in her voice. She stood up gracefully and struts towards the students with two quills in her hand. Then, she places one on each table and Aine examines it silently.
"Now... I want you to write, 'I must not tell lies' on the paper given," she instructed and Aine let out a soft exhale.
Again, with the lies. What part of what she said was a lie? She just couldn't fathom it. Was what she said about Voldemort's return really such a big false truth? No, he is back. Tom Riddle is reborn before her eyes in the graveyard and there was no mistake about it.
"How many times?" Aine heard Harry asking grouchily and she waited for further instructions.
"Well, let's say for as long as it takes for the message to sink in," Umbridge simpers with her toad-like smile. She twirls around back to her table.
"You haven't given us any ink, Ma'am," Aine remarked and Umbridge pauses, she turns to Aine, her eyes curling into slits.
"Oh, you won't need any ink," she replies and the two began writing their lines.
Aine picks up the black quill, sceptical about it. She stole a peek at Umbridge who was happily sipping her sweet royal milk tea, feigning ignorance. Then, back to the parchment, Aine stared emptily over the blank page before moving her wrist to write the lines.
I... Must... Not... Tell... Lies...
Her voice muttered in her head as she moves the quill across the paper, her letters forming the words neatly in cursive. When she was done with the first line, she took a moment to look at the shiny red words that she had inked out before she went on with her second line. It was then she felt a prickly feeling on the back of her palms but the girl had ignored it, thinking it was probably her mind playing tricks with her.
However, the tingling sensation only seemed to increase the more she wrote. Her finger clutched tightly onto the quill and she bit her lips, dismissing the pain that only grew. By the tenth line, she places the quill down before she stretches her fingers out, numbing the pain. Then she continued, her pacing growing slower and slower while the discomfort spreads to her wrist. It was only until it felt like her hand was burning that she drops her quill, letting out a muffled gasp of pain that Umbridge looks up at her. The woman's lips curled when she realize that the students finally figured out the secret of the quill.
Aine held her wrist, giving it a light squeeze before her sleeves unveiled the words on her hand that had been transferred over from her paper. The scarlet letters in cursive had appeared on the back of Aine's hand as if it was engraved with a letter opener blade. Yet— even as Aine continued to stare at it, the words on her skin had disappeared, leaving nothing but a slight redness on her outer coverings. She blinks at it, confusion fanning across her face.
She continued on with the lines with her quill in her hand, the words gliding across. I must not tell lies...
Only this time, she noticed the words re-emerging on her skin and the searing pain that returned. Once again, they healed themselves, leaving nothing but rubbed skin. Red and swollen. She writes another and again, and again— it would bleed and then disappear over and over again. Then it finally struck Aine that the words she had written were not ink, but her very own blood.
What the hell...
She looks up, her golden eyes glowering at the pink lady standing next to Harry. The boy too had figured out the nasty secret behind the quill. Umbridge's eyes softened with worry at Harry before they drift next to Aine. "Yes?" she asks innocently with a girlish voice.
"Nothing," Harry replies defeatedly, still in shock with the methods Umbridge had used to punish them.
Umbridge narrows her eyes, shadow swirling in her blue sinister pupils. "That's right. Because you know, deep down— You both deserve to be punished. Don't you, Mister Potter, Miss Estoileon?" she said pitifully.
"Why are you doing this?" Aine questions, glaring straight into Umbridge's menacing gaze.
"To silence your ridiculous lies, Miss Estoileon. So that you will no longer speak of such disturbing false claims," Umbridge spats and Aine felt a nerve being pulled. Her fists were clenching and she could feel her nails digging into her palms. But it was nothing compared to the pain she had from writing the lines with her own blood.
"Why don't you write another seventy more, Mister Potter?" Umbridge suggests before continuing on, "Miss Estoileon..." she hums, deep in thought as her eyes bore into Aine's.
"You can continue with another hundred more," she finishes and Aine nodded, looking down onto her half-filled page of sentences written in blood. She rolls her eyes.
This isn't just punishment... Harry had said in his mind.
Aine forced a grin when she saw her professor looking directly at her. No... It's torture.
"Go on~" Umbridge encourages, proceeding back to her seat and taking pleasure in seeing the pained faces of her students. She clasps her hand together and let out another high-pitched giggle, enjoying the rest of her evening with Harry and Aine's suffering.
By the time Harry was done, Aine had left about ten lines. She could feel herself getting fatigued and her knuckles were getting whiter from balling up. Umbridge had dismissed Harry first since he was finished and the boy simply cast an anxious look over to his friend who was still miserably writing her lines. When she caught his gaze on her, she returned with a short smile before he mouthed to her, "I'll see you later, good luck." Then, he was gone from the room, leaving Aine along with Umbridge.
The time spent with her professor felt like an eternity and Aine wondered why her words just couldn't reach the bottom of the page. It was like the parchment was stretching and lengthening the more she wrote and it was getting difficult to keep up with her lines. Her words were warping and her sentences were no longer as straight as she had written them. She could hear a soft humming from Umbridge and the trickling sound of tea being poured into her cup before the sound of glass clinking came from mixing sugar into the milk tea. Even so, Aine tried her best to ignore it, pushing the sounds out of her ears and interfering with her writing.
She forgot how much time had passed and how much her hand was aching. The feeling of being carved continuously was awful, yet it had rivalled alongside the feeling of hatred for the very person sitting in front of her who was happily watching over her. Aine tucks her falling hair behind her ears, patting her glistening forehead that was beading with sweat from the pain. Just a few lines more... she motivates herself. Just a little more and she could finally be free from this stuffy sweet room and away from this sadistic toad-like woman.
When she was done, Umbridge had walked over to her side and smiled at her crimson-coloured words. "Well done, Miss Estoileon," she complimented Aine. "I trust that you will not spout any more lies and remain quiet about what you should not say," her eyes twinkled at the girl.
Aine stood up and glanced at the woman, "Of course, professor. One shouldn't tell lies," she mutters and Umbridge giggles brightly. She beams at the student and nods, ecstatic.
"Yes! Now, off you go. Have a pleasant evening, dear," she bids Aine, gesturing to the opened door. She gave another muffled titter behind Aine's back as the girl left the classroom.
With quick steps, Aine rushes away from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, huffing as she clutches her swollen hand. With a repeat of the words she had written cutting into her flesh and healing, it was now completely reddened with the words 'I must not tell lies' scarring the back of her hand. She chewed her lips, the seething pain was still present and her hand was throbbing.
"Ah! Look who it is!" Aine heard a voice calling from behind and turns to it. Immediately, she cursed under her breath and mocked her luck. It was Pansy Parkinson.
She let out a sigh and stared at the Slytherin girl who strode towards her, proudly showing off her prefect badge plastered on her uniform. Pansy eyed Aine from head to toe before a nasty smirk crept onto her face, she places her hands on her hips and questioned, "What are you doing, wandering around the corridors at this hour?"
Aine blinks, "I'm heading to dinner, where else?" she replies nonchalantly.
"And why so late? What are you plotting around now? Going to spread another one of your lies to others, aren't you?" the Slytherin prefect bombards and Aine combs through her hair with her nails, letting out some pent-up frustrations.
"Look— I'm really not in the mood to argue with you, Parkinson. So, please excuse me and find another time, will you?" Aine replies, stepping aside and walking ahead, minding her own business.
"Where do you think you're going?" Pansy questions, grabbing her arm from behind and spinning her around. Aine staggers, feeling drained from detention and from the torture session she had earlier. This, of course, made Pansy smirk knowing that the Gryffindor girl wasn't feeling the best.
"Let me go," Aine demands, eyes moving to meet Pansy's. She grabs the girl's hand and tossed it away, making Pansy scoff out loud. "Pick another time, miss prefect."
"Running away now, aren't you?"
"No, I'm simply walking away from this bullshit fight you're planning to start," Aine answers, she was feeling crappy, hungry and she was tired. All she wants right now is food and sleep and maybe someone to rant to about what she just went through earlier.
Pansy squinted at her before looking around the hallway, only to realize they were alone. She grinned before raising a finger to poke at Aine, sending her backwards onto the wall. "Now that we're alone, let's settle this shall we?"
Aine raised a brow, wondering what was there to settle in the first place. When she heard what came out of Pansy's mouth, she couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Stay the hell away from my Drakey Poo," Pansy warns, she took out her wand and pointed it toward Aine.
"What's a prefect doing threatening her juniors?" Aine asks, "And for another, please stop with the terrible nickname. It does not sound cute one bit. You're embarrassing him."
"And who are you to judge that?"
Aine hums, pondering for a second before answering, "Let's just say, a well-wisher?"
"Pfft—" A voice sniggers ahead of them and the two girls turned to the voice.
"Drakey!" Pansy squeals, hiding her wand as her behaviour around Aine completely changed as she skips to her fellow prefect.
"Dear Godric, please help Parkinson and her hideous choice of nicknames," Aine muttered loudly under her breath as she straightens her uniform, patting away the creases that Pansy had given her. Jeez... She looks to Draco who waves Pansy away, not even bothering to look at her. And before long, the Slytherin girl was away from sight. Thankfully.
"Why, hello there, M'lady," Draco greeted with his usual charming smile, approaching Aine whose lips were curling at the sight of him.
"Hey there, Mister prefect."
Draco looks behind Aine before he drifted into the girl's mesmerizing golden eyes, "What are you doing here alone at this time?" he wondered, it was about eight at night and usually time for dinner yet he didn't recall seeing her earlier at the Great Hall.
"Just... walking," Aine replied, playing innocent. She pulled down the sleeves to hide her hand while smiling.
"Right. Walking," Draco repeats, sending her a mischievous smirk, causing Aine to scoff.
"Mmhm. What are you doing here?" she questions him back and he took a breath.
"Prefect patrolling."
"Right... Well, um— Good luck!"
"Thanks," Draco sheepishly replies and Aine waves her unharmed hand to him before taking off. "Oh, wait— " he calls after her, catching her hand as she turns around, planning to leave.
Aine winces when Draco grasps her hand, the pain from earlier was still raw and burning fresh and she could feel the stinging pain spreading across the back of her palms up to her wrist. She took a steady breath and turns to face the Slytherin boy who caught the look on her face. He furrowed at her expression, confused. "Yeah? What is it?" Aine inquired, biting down the pain.
"Are— Are you okay?" He asks, worried laced in his tone and his eyes soften at Aine. He wondered if he had grabbed her hand too hard.
Aine nodded, "Great!" she replies enthusiastically, mustering a small smile as she diverted her eyes away from his grey ones. She caught sight of the words in her hand and pulls the sleeves of her uniform down even more to cover them. However, she didn't realize Draco was already following her attention to her hand that when she looked up, he was staring down at the concealed hand. He looks up to her and raises a brow and she plays it cool.
Not buying her lie, Draco reaches for her hand and Aine flinches again, she could feel the sleeve of her robe brushing onto the wound and it was grazing it. "Okay, you're acting weird. What's wrong?" Draco questions, her hand still in his. She could spot the tiny bit of scarring on her hand peeking out from the sleeves.
Please don't see it, please don't see it.
"Nothing!" Aine waves away, there was no need for more people to know about this.
"Liar," Draco smirks slightly as he looks down onto Aine's hand, still tightly gripping onto the sleeves so that the words won't show. "What's wrong with your hand, love?" he asks, taking the fabric to unveil it. But Aine simply clutches it even tighter, too stubborn to let go. "Why are you covering your hand?"
"Because it's dirty?" she questions him back and he shot her a look. "From... From ink that I accidentally knocked over," she explained further.
"Let's go wash it then."
"I'll do it later!" Aine replies, internally screaming at her stupid reasonings. She wanted to run away and hide from the embarrassment.
Draco let out a teasing scoff, "Really?" he said with a spark of sarcasm.
"Mmhm."
Realizing that Aine was no longer holding onto her sleeve, he quickly took the chance to roll it up gently, flustering Aine in the process. When he saw what was on her hand, the thin red lines of a quill stroke mimicking a handwriting he knew all too well, layered beneath a swollen scarred skin. His smile fell and he gapes at it in disbelief, his fingers trembling over her skin as he was too afraid to touch it knowing that it had hurt. "W-What..." he let out a stammer, "Who did this to you?" he questions sternly, glaring at the words 'I must not tell lies'.
He felt a wave of chills down his spine upon the words, there was no way she had written it by herself, he thought. Who would carve words into their own skin?
The girl sighs, shamefully looking at the scribbles etched into her hand. There's no point hiding it any further now that he had seen the graffiti work. With a sullen look, she replied, "Umbridge, during detention earlier."
Draco inhaled sharply, his eyes fluttering to a close as he calms his rising anger within him. Then he opened his eyes and looks at Aine who was still staring downwards. With a softer tone in his voice, he spoke, "It must have hurt..."
"Kinda, but it's nothing a concoction couldn't fix," Aine smiles at Draco, reassuring him. She could feel how his hold on her had tightened earlier but it was loosening now.
The boy chuckles, "I can't believe you're comforting me instead when you're hurt."
"Pain only makes us stronger," she mutters back and he sighed.
"Not ones that you deserve," Draco corrected. He places her hand down and took her other hand and the girl looks at him, "Come on, let's go," he said.
"Where to?"
"Someone who knows what to do," he tells her.
"What about your prefect duties?" Aine asks, looking back at the corridor where Pansy Parkinson was earlier.
"I can afford to ditch a session for you," Draco winks in return, sending the girl to widen her eyes at his sudden flirty lines. She quickly looks away as her face started to blush and her heart skipped a beat.
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I'm sooo sorry for letting you guys wait on this chapter! Things have been really busy for me lately that I've been neglecting to update! How has everyone been doing?
Recently, I've gotten into a small hobby of creating some hand-made goods to sell for charity. It's a little tedious especially since it's a new material I'm working with but it's actually pretty fun! And I'm doing it for a good cause too so it makes all the hard work worth it. Anyways! Enough talking about me!
Thanks for reading and do drop some love and upvotes if you enjoy this chapter! ^^
Love you guys lots!! <3
- Zeneria