As the week goes on, so do my detentions.
I must not tell lies is now etched quite vibrantly on the back of my hand.
Afraid to let Fred see in case he does something stupid, I begin to avoid him, although between his Quidditch training and my detentions, that's not exactly difficult.
"Angelina's worse than Wood," Fred mutters when he apologizes once again for not being able to meet me for lunch. "She has us training at all hours."
I can't help but feel jealous that Fred is spending more time with his ex than he is me. And it's all bloody Umbridge's fault.
When the first week is over, I breathe a silent sigh of relief. And then I go and land myself another weeks worth of Umbridge detentions.
"Fuck, Harri," Fred groans when I share this news with him in the rare occasion we get to see one another in the corridors between classes. "What did you do this time?"
"I told her she wasn't teaching us anything useful. It's Defence Against the Dark Arts and every lesson she's just got us sitting there in silence reading a book. We need to learn to protect ourselves. We need to learn to fight back, in case- in case-"
I stop, the tightness in my chest making me breathless. "In case it happens again." I eventually add in a small voice, my heart twisting as I picture Cedric's last moments.
Fred wraps his arms around me, hugging me to him tightly. "You're amazing, you know that, Harri?"
I nod, of course.
"And I love that you never stop fighting for what you believe in," Fred murmurs, his voice muffled in my hair. "But I'm worried about Umbridge. She seems power-mad and likes to take it out on you."
I look up, glaring defiantly into his eyes. "I won't give that bitch the satisfaction of backing off. Ever."
Fred smirks and presses a kiss to my forehead. "In the meantime," he murmurs, his lips tickling against my scar, "is there any danger of finding a few hours in our busy schedules to find some alone time? It feels like forever since we've actually been together."
My stomach knots in longing.
"Naked time?" I ask, looking up at him coyly.
A look of intense hunger flits over his face. And when he speaks, his voice is low and hoarse. "You better believe it."
If I didn't have Defence Against the Dark Arts next, I'd probably drag him up to the seventh floor right there and then. Except that I didn't want to give Umbridge a reason to extend my detentions any further.
I sigh in frustration. "Literally the only time I'm free is after my detention in the few hours I have to sleep before getting up and doing it all over again."
"Then sleep with me, we can use the Room. I'd take any time with you, Harri, even if all we do is sleep."
I look up at his yearning face, biting my lower lip nervously. My hand bleeds quite badly in those few hours between detention and breakfast. But I miss Fred so much and I too yearn to be with him.
"I don't usually end up leaving until two in the morning lately."
A look of intense anger flickers over Fred's face. "How the hell is she allowed to keep you there that long? Fuck, Harri, you must be exhausted."
His fingers dance tenderly against my cheek, concern replacing his anger. "I'll wait up for you tonight. And then in the morning you can sleep in while I go down and get us some breakfast to bring back to the Room."
"I love you," I breathe, nuzzling my face into his hand, so grateful that Fred is wanting to look after me like this.
He brushes his lips against mine. "I love you too, don't ever forget that."
That night, after detention, I plan on quickly popping back to the dorm before going to meet Fred in the Room so that I can clean up my hand, but to my dismay, he is waiting for me outside Umbridge's office.
"Fred?" I ask, quickly stuffing my bloodied hand inside my robe pocket, flinching at the pain this causes. "I thought we were meeting in the Room?"
A frown creases his brow. "I thought I'd walk you there. Harri, you don't look too good."
"I'm fine," I say quickly, "just tired from writing lines."
It is sort of the truth, at least.
"Harri, if you'd sooner go back to your dormitory, I'll walk you there. I don't want you to feel pressured into sleeping with me tonight."
"No- I want to be with you." I say quickly. "I need you so much tonight."
Relief floods his face, but his eyes still contain worry. He holds out his hand, but to my dismay, it is the wrong side. I panic, knowing that I simply cannot allow Fred to see my hand, knowing he'd probably break down Umbridge's door and kill her.
Keeping my left hand firmly in my pocket, I offer him my right, which he looks down at, puzzled.
"My hand is sore from writing," I say as a way of explanation.
"But you're not left handed."
Fuck.
"I was trying something new."
"Harri? What the fuck is going on?"
He steps over to me and yanks my left arm up so that my hand is forced to leave my pocket. A small whimper of pain leaves me unintentionally.
"Fuck! Harri - what the absolute-?" Fred's eyes widen in horror as he takes in the state of my bloodied hand which looks as though it has been ravaged by an angry beast.
"Fred, please," I say quickly, tugging my hand out of his grip. "It's nothing, just a scratch. Please, let's go-"
"She did this to you?" Fred asks, his voice full of venomous fury.
"Technically, no," I say, "I did it to myself. Fred, please, let's just go and I can explain everything."
I'm the one tugging at his arm now as he glares furiously at Umbridge's door, his entire body literally shaking in anger.
I'm half tempted to let him just barge in there and rip her head off.
But then I'd miss him when he inevitably gets thrown into Azkaban.
Somehow, I manage to convince him to leave that bitch be and coax him up to the seventh floor, conjuring our Room.
Instead of ripping each other's clothes off however, Fred gets me to sit down on the bed whilst he conjures a small porcelain bowl full of yellow liquid which he passes to me.
"Murtlap Essence," he explains, "it's for your hand. It'll help with the pain."
Grateful, I immerse my blooded hand into it, feeling at once relief from the burning sensation.
Rather than join me on the bed, Fred kneels in front of me, taking my good hand in his.
"Now tell me," he says, "what the fuck is this about?"
"She has this black quill," I explain, "when I write with it, the words appear not only on the parchment in blood, but on the back of my other hand too. The quill - it somehow cuts into the skin as I write."
Fred pales, clutching my hand tighter. "That sick bitch. What- what does she make you write?"
"It's always the same - I must not tell lies."
Fred's nostrils visibly flare. I feel the anger rolling off him in waves. I can see it is taking him everything not to storm out of here and and go kill her.
"We can't let her get away with this," Fred growls, his eyes flashing. "She hurt you. And I want to kill her for it."
"Fred, please don't do anything stupid," I implore. "This is exactly why I didn't want you to know. You need to let me deal with this my own way. I do not want to give her the satisfaction of knowing I've gone crying to someone about it."
"But you haven't, I forced it out of you. Did you really not think I wouldn't notice such a scar on my girlfriend?"
He reaches into the bowl and gently lifts my hand out, where the words are now clear and dazzling red. I must not tell lies.
He lifts my hand to his lips, kissing the offending words. I close my eyes, his cool lips soothing the stinging pain.
"I'm so tired," I say when I find myself nearly nodding off there and then.
Without another word, Fred takes the bowl from my lap and puts it on the bedside table next to the unused condoms. He climbs onto the bed with me, and we lay down together, with his arms wrapping around me tightly.
I am asleep before my head even hits the pillow.
*****
For the rest of the week Fred meets me outside Umbridge's office every night after detention, and every night we go back to the Room where he prepares the Murtlap Essence for my hand.
Sometimes we fuck, sometimes when I'm too exhausted we just cuddle - but each night we fall asleep in each other's arms and I have the best night's sleep every time.
Finally, Saturday arrives and my detentions are over.
No classes mean Fred and I skip breakfast in exchange for lazy morning sex.
After he has gone down on me for the second time that morning, he looks at me apologetically when I suggest we just spend the rest of the day in the Room.
"I've got to go to Quidditch practice," he apologizes, looking genuinely sorry. "But I've got a request."
"Oh?"
"It's Hogsmeade today. Meet me in the Hogs Head at four o'clock. We'll be finished with practice by then."
"The Hogs Head?" I splutter, "isn't that some weird pub where only dodgy types go to drink?"
"Exactly," Fred says, his eyes twinkling. "It'll be perfect."
"Perfect for what?"
"You'll see. Just make sure to be there okay?"
He presses a kiss to my forehead before I can ask more, and then he leaves.
I reluctantly spend the day trying to catch up with my homework. Thanks to all my detentions, I haven't had much chance. But I am stuck, my mind tired after the exhausting start to school. So I go and knock on Draco's private bedroom - a perk of being a Prefect.
"Please!" I beg of him as I sit on his bed and watch him knot his tie in front of the floor length mirror.
"Can't, I've got a date with Vane," he mutters, not taking his attention away from his task in hand.
"Romilda Vane?" I blink, confused. "What happened to Fay?"
Draco shrugs. "She's fit and all, but lately she's just wanting to cuddle after sex. I don't cuddle."
"You cuddle me."
"That's different, you're my friend. With Fay it was just sex."
"So you don't cuddle but you date?"
"Well," he smirks as his gaze meets mine in the mirror, a wicked twinkle in his eye, "you've got to put in a little effort before they spread their legs, otherwise it's no fun."
"You're disgusting. What happened to the boy who was so upset after he'd lost his virginity because he'd wished it'd never happened?"
"Things change, Potter. Sex is fun, and I intend to enjoy it as much as I can."
"You can do that in a relationship too you know?"
"I can't be fucked with all of that business. Here," he goes over to his desk to pick up some books. "Just look through my homework, only don't copy word for word."
He tosses them into my lap. "And make sure you're gone by this afternoon. I may need this room for entertaining."
"You're bringing girls back here?" I ask, looking down at his black satin sheets in disgust. "But this is the Slytherin quarters."
"Exactly," Draco smirks, "and I intend to do just that."
It takes me a hot minute.
And then he ducks as I throw one of his books at him.
******