Natalia's hand twitched as she wrote the lines, over and over, her blood dripping onto the page. It wasn't particularly a pleasant feeling, and it often made her lose complete concentration, so she had to cast the transfiguration spell multiple times in the hour they were there.
Draco had found out about the sheath when she'd been shoved into sitting next to him by Lily sitting next to her, and the look of worry and fear in her eyes had made her cringe internally. She could tell he was worried about her losing her own opinions and mind - something Natalia had noticed happening a while ago. She blamed fear. He said it was because she was too scared of taking such a final step away from everything she'd known. He was one to speak, at least Natalia had met Voldemort. She was seven at the time, and in fact, couldn't remember much of the interaction, but it was more contact than Draco had ever had with him. The difference between Natalia and Draco, she thought, was that she was afraid of her mother, and what she could do, he was afraid of the Dark Lord and what he might do.
She looked down and realised she'd stopped writing her lines, pausing halfway through, resulting in a line that simply said: I will not break
She smiled a little, her jaw still clenched from pain, but she shook it off and continued writing.
She could hear the cries and sobs from several of the members and made a point to try and figure out who they were. She knew she wasn't very good at healing spells, not as good as Draco, but once she figured out who was crying (she had to guess sometimes, but if she was wrong she'd at least be helping someone) she tried to cast healing spells in their direction, taking at least some of their pain. Of course, she had no idea if it worked or anything, seeing as they couldn't exactly communicate, but she hoped it did.
They left the hall when the hour was up, and Natalia slumped exhausted by the side of the hall, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chest. Keeping multiple spells going through that as well as trying not to think too hard about anything that might cause her to accidentally cast a curse in someone's direction was emotionally and physically draining, and she wasn't sure how long she could keep it up.
"N-Natalia White?" She looked up. Hermione Granger. She'd been crying, probably from pain.
Nat nodded, not daring to stand in case she fell or passed out.
Hermione held out a small pot of paste to her. "This should help the pain. Heals it faster too."
Natalia reached out and took it, staring at Hermione. "I didn't say anything. To anyone."
"I know."
"I'm sorry." She gently took Hermione's hand, pointing her wand at it. She pretended not to notice her flinch. She muttered about six different advanced healing spells, each of which making a small impact on Granger's hand.
"How- I tried fr weeks!"
Natalia lowered her gaze. "I used to know someone with a Black Quill, it was difficult, but we found some more advanced healing spells in old books. I'm not that good at them, so they'll have limited impact. They only work fully if you have a bond with someone."
"We don't have a bond."
"Hence limited impact."
Hermione looked confused but walked away, and Natalia finally stood, using the wall to help keep her balance.
She could feel the sheathed dagger pressing into her thigh, so she had to adjust her position. Tentatively, she spread some of the weird paste thing on her hand and gasped at the immediate relief. It wasn't completely gone, but the pain was significantly reduced and she could feel it fading.
She spotted Fred and George comforting Nigel in the hall, and Harry stood close by them. She frowned, glaring at Umbridge, and had to restrain herself from cursing her and making the rest of her life short and painful.