I must not tell lies.
The words cut into the back of my hand like a knife. They dig deeper and deeper with every letter I write, sprouting fresh, scarlet blood, each time. Umbridge glowers over me, her hands on her hips, scolding me every time I stop writing even for a few seconds. The endless torture makes tears prick at my eyes but I bite my tongue to keep myself from sobbing. I won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry. Blood trickles slowly down my wrist in a tiny stream, and drops off my hand, leaving little splotches on the parchment. I've been here for almost half an hour now. She told me to keep writing until she says stop. The sky was a dusty pink through the window, and I wondered all the things I would rather be doing right now.
I continue writing, for what feels like hours, enduring the torturous pain and trying to steady my breathing: I can't stand being in her presence, it makes me panic. I feel like she's going to shout at any minute. Do something to me any minute. She's malevolent. She's been getting away with making me write with my own blood, who knows what else she can do. I don't feel at all at ease around her anymore. It's like she's made me genuinely believe that I'm a liar. I have a constant reminder of her on my left hand and it makes my stomach knot at the very sight.
I must not tell lies.
I flinch. My body goes into shock as a sharp, searing pain spreads throughout my upper back. I drop the quill and it clatters to the floor as I feel the invisible scalpel move up to my back and begin carving there. I arch my back and my lip trembles as I feel the words I must not tell lies being incised into the untouched skin. It feels like it's being cut deeper than on my hand. My lip trembles and my eyes squeeze shut, trying to escape from the pain. I feel my back begin to grow wet with blood. I hear the soft clacking of Umbridge's shoes as she bends over and thrusts the quill back into my hands off the floor. She glares sternly at me, her eyes angry.
"Continue." She says, firmly, glaring daggers at me. I whimper silently and begin to write the words, once again. They alternate from my hand to my back. It's slow and it's excruciating. Each time, it's as though she's carving away each tiny bit of my self-respect, turning me against myself, wishing that I had just kept my mouth shut in the first place. I gave up holding back my tears and watch as they fall off my face and splatter onto the desk below me.
After many pain filled hours, Umbridge takes another look at my hand and my tear-soaked face, and sends me away, taking extra caution to pat me on the back on my way out.
"Maybe next time you'll think twice before telling evil little attention-seeking lies in my classroom." she says sweetly, with an evil grin. I nod, not wanting to make matters worse, and push open the heavy door of her office and out into the corridors. I cover my mouth with my hand as I walk through the halls, muffling my sobs. My bag digs into my back, making my eyes well up and sting even more. When I turn the first corner I am met with a boy, sitting against the wall, book in his lap flicking through it. The boy was crowned in a head of unmistakably white-blond hair. His head turns and he snaps his book shut, springing to his feet, his face excited. I look at him for a few seconds before walking past him, not really wanting to speak to him. Every time I blink more tears come pouring out uncontrollably. I hear his footsteps and his calls from behind me, but I ignore them.
"Hey!" Draco calls, his pace quickening. I sprint up a staircase and head for the girls bathroom. "Olivia, wait!"
"Leave me alone Draco," I say, wiping my tears, once again. Why is it every time he sees me I'm always a crying mess?
"What's wrong?" He calls, his voice frantic.
"Nothings wrong," I say, sniffling. I don't even know why I tried to lie. "I'm fine." I prey that his footsteps will stop any second now, but they don't. I just want him to leave. But I also want him to stay. Ugh why is everything so complicated?
"Well you're obviously not fine are you?" Draco says. My running slows down and I press my hand to my mouth hard, trying to drown out my sobs. I hear his footsteps draw nearer and I feel a pair of hands on my shoulders. I feel his thumbs digging into the raw, bleeding skin and I flinch, arching my back and swatting his hands away, tears pricking at my eyes. He furrows his eyebrows at my sudden flinch against his touch. "Seriously, what's wrong?"
"It's nothing-" I say, choking out a sob.
"It's not nothing," he says, softly taking my hand, "please tell me."
"It's just..." I hesitate. My eyes meet his. They're glazed over with desperation and concern. My voice trembles but I push back my tears with a shaky breath. "Umbridge. She cut into my back this time. And it hurts a lot more than my hand. It's rubbing against my clothes as well. But really it's nothing, I don't want to cause you any trouble-" I turn my body around, but before I can take my first step a firm hand was gripped around my wrist.
"Are you alright?" He asks, biting the inside of his cheek with worry. He runs the pads of his thumbs over the back of my untouched hand. I smile, weakly and nod. Lie.
"I kind of need to get going now..." I say, quietly. Another lie. The truth is, I didn't want him fussing over me. I knew if I stayed he would fuss and feel sorry for me and I really didn't want that.
"Oh, right, ok," He says, dropping my hand, letting it swing by my side. He smiles at me. "Well you know I'm here if you need me right?" I nod. I give him one last smile before digging my hands into my pockets and pushing open the heavy door of the girls bathroom. I hesitate. I feel the jar of Murtlap Essence in my deep pocket. I bite my lip, paying attention to the stinging sensation on my back. I snap my head around.
"Hey! Draco, wait!" I call after him. He turns around, with a hopeful look on his face. I take ahold of his wrist. "I need your help."
"Ok... what is it?" He asks. I hesitate. I don't know if this is too much to ask.
"Er- can you put this on my back?" I ask, holding up the jar, before he can say anything I add hurriedly, "It's just I can't exactly reach there. You obviously don't have to, it's quite a lot to ask It just helps it heal the quickest." I wince, waiting for his answer.
"Sure," He says simply, with a small smile. He takes the jar out of my hand, and looks around.
"Thank you." I say in a timid voice before leading him over to the girls bathroom. He stops outside of the door.
"I-in there?" he says raising an eyebrow, colour rising in his cheek. "But that's the girls bathroom."
"No ones ever in there." I say, opening the door and checking around for people. Nobody. "Please. Come on. No ones in here."
"Ok, fine." He says, rolling his eyes slightly, before following me into the bathroom. I walk over to the porcelain basin and stare at myself in the mirror above. I examine my blotchy cheeks and red eyes, noticing how disgusting I look. I see Draco looking around the room, with interest. I turn around and lean against the sink, smiling awkwardly at Draco. He smiles back at me. I unbutton my cloak and it falls to the floor behind me. I turn my head towards the mirror and see the back of my white school shirt soaked with red blood. Draco approaches me. I see him unstopper the jar.
I button down my shirt and pull it off my shoulders so my skin is exposed to him. I tense up, fully aware that he can see my bra right now. I kind of wished I didn't look this gross right now. I mean he's looking at me in my bra. I gulp hard. He takes a step closer to me and hesitates. I hold my breath.
"Are you sure this is alright?" He says, tentatively, "I mean I don't want you feeling uncomfortable or anything..."
"It's fine, Draco, just do it." I say in a small voice. He gathers my hair off my back and swings it over my shoulder and out of the way. I watch in the mirror as he applies some of the Murtlap Essence onto the cuts. It stings and I wince slightly.
"Sorry," He whispers and I see him wince, too, in the mirror. I take a deep breath in as he continues to apply it. I feel it starting to heal immediately, trying to ignore the stinging sensation. I see him twist the faucet and begin scrubbing his hands under the stream of water. I turn to look at my back in the mirror. Most of the blood had cleared up and the cuts now look several days old. I smile weakly before pulling my shirt over my shoulders once again.
"Hold on," Draco says, after drying his hands. He pulls out his wand from his robe pocket and points it at my back. "Scourgify." My eyes were fixed on my bloodied shirt as the red stain grows smaller until it was in its original, white state. I smile at him and murmur a word of thanks. I wipe the remaining tears off my face with my thumbs and pick up my bag off the floor. I take a step closer to Draco and wrap my arms around his middle. I hug him tightly and I just want him to hold me and let me cry. I press my face into his chest inhaling the scent of his cologne. My hands rest in the small of his back and one of his strokes the back of my head, running his fingers through my hair slightly.
I don't know how long we stand here for but it's enough to steady my shaky breaths and calm me down. He holds me against his chest, stoking my hair and making small conversation.
"I think we should get going," I whisper after a while. His grip around my waist loosens and he pulls away. He nods slowly, and puts his hand under my chin, pushing my head up before placing a kiss to my forehead. I feel my embarrassment rise in a pink tinge in my cheeks. I know he can see it because he chuckles. He slips his hand into mine and pulls me out of the bathroom. We walk through the castle for a while until I reach the Gryffindor Common Room. I turn to face him.
"Thank you for that, I really appreciate it." I say, smiling, genuinely.
"Any time," He says, returning the smile. He gives me one last wave before he turns around and down a flight of stairs. I smile to myself as I watch him walk away, before muttering the password to the portrait hole and stepping inside.
I climb through the hole, before being embraced into the warm and slightly smoky air of the Gryffindor Common Room. I step over a few pieces of parchment scattered across the floor and an old set of Gobstones before joining Harry, Ron and Hermione. I sit cross legged in front of the fire, putting my hands in my lap, ensuring they had no view of them. I smile at them.
"How was it?" Harry asks, looking up from what looked like a piece of Divination homework.
"Fine," I lie, pulling a nearby book towards me, "Just more lines."
"Well at least it's your last one," Hermione says, closing her book and leaning forward, "Just make sure you don't talk back to her again, we've barely seen you outside of lessons these past few days!"
"Yeah... sorry about that." I say, "But I promise I won't get any more, I have unthinkable amounts of homework I need to get done it's unreal." I say. I think for a second, realising how disgusting I feel with blood stained across my back. I snap shut my book. "You know what, I'm just going to have a shower, I'll be back down in a bit." They all murmur an 'ok' before returning to whatever activity they were keeping themselves occupied with. I dash up the spiralling staircase, two steps at a time, before pushing open the door to our dormitory. Thank god it was empty. I step into the bathroom, taking extra caution to lock the door behind me. I unbutton my shirt once again and fresh tears spring in my eyes, the fabric gets peeled off the cuts, painfully. I let my shirt fall to the ground and I face my back to a nearby mirror, looking over my shoulder at the scars that branded me like I was being labelled a liar.
I did what she asked. I made it through her detentions. Her torture sessions. She got what she wanted. Now I understand. I must not tell lies.