Draco's POV:

I sat myself down at the Slytherin table for breakfast beside Blaise and Goyle.

"Morning," Blaise mumbled through a mouthful of toast. Pansy, who was sitting on his other side, punched his arm. "Oi!"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Blaise," she said sternly, grabbing an apple and taking a dainty bite from it.

"I can do what I want," Blaise grumbled in return.

I munched on a bit of toast as Pansy talked on and on about things of not much interest to me. My mind began to wander to other more important things, such as Quidditch. Tryouts were several weeks ago and of course I was the seeker on the Slytherin house team. We had already started practices and our first game was in a few months. We were working feverishly because we were determined to beat Gryffindor, if they ever got permission to reform.

Umbridge had banned all school clubs and groups from meeting and could be given permission to reform at her own choice.

It was then that I realized I was staring. Not only was I staring, I was staring at Lizzie. And she was staring right back.

She looked elegant sitting down there at the end of the table. Knowing Lizzie for as long as I have, I know she is not one for elegance. She was that girl that spoke with her mouth full of food. The girl who sat in the corner with a book rather than socialize. The girl who laughed louder than anyone else in the room.

Her face was unreadable as her cloudy eyes bore back into mine. I could feel the blush rise into my cheeks.

I wanted to forgive her for lying to me for all this time, but I couldn't find the courage. If I did forgive her, the rest of the Slytherin house would disown me. I missed the talks we used to have and the way we would tease each other mercilessly.

Despite how much I was missing her, I was also very hurt by her betrayal.

"Earth to Draco, come on. Class will start soon," Pansy said, pulling me from my thoughts and following my gaze down the table to Lizzie. Liz gave a snarky smile when she made eye contact with Pansy.

I stood from the table and began my journey to Defense Against the Dark Arts class. "Did you hear what happened with the Gryffindor quidditch team other night?" Blaise asked me, a frown spread wide across his face.

"No, what happened?" I questioned, my interest peaked.

"They got permission to reform," Pansy piped in. "Umbridge finally gave in."

"Wonderful," I groaned.

"I know," Blaise said.

Before anyone could say anything else, we were in Umbridge's classroom. Lizzie was already there, sitting in the back of the room. How she had beaten us, I'll never know.

"Let's sit at the front today. Don't want to get any mud on my shoes," Pansy said loud enough for the entire class to hear. She looped her arm through mine and dragged me to one of the tables in the front of the room.

Once everyone had settled down, Professor Umbridge stood. "Good morning class," she squeaked.

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge," everyone replied monotonously. She had us trained like dogs.

"Today, you are to read chapter 24 and write a one foot essay due tomorrow." The class remained silent except for the shuffle of pages as students flipped through the book.

"'Muggles, Muggleborns, Half-Bloods, and Half-Breeds and Their Impact on the Wizarding World'?" a voice called out from behind me. I closed my eyes and begged her not to pick a fight.

"Do you have a problem with that, Ms Samuels?" Umbridge asked in a dangerous tone. Lizzie mumbled inaudibly under her breath in return, flipping a few more pages. "What was that, dear?"

"I said I do have a problem with that, Professor Umbridge. This chapter talks about how bad muggleborns are for society," she spoke back in an equally dangerous voice.

"It does, and would you happen to disagree with that statement?" Umbridge questioned, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes at Lizzie.

"Yes, I do. I'm a muggleborn and muggleborns are not bad," she stated simply.

"Ms Samuels, please see me in my office after class," Umbridge smiled.

"As you wish," she gritted. Umbridge plastered a fake smile on her face.

"Chapter 73, boys and girls."

Lizzie's POV:

I followed Umbridge's request and walked into her office after class had finished.

"Ms Samuels," she smiled at me.

"Professor," I greeted her as snarkily as possible without getting in trouble. Breakfast this morning had very much set me on edge.

"I would like you to meet me back here at 7 o'clock for a detention."

"If I may be as bold as to ask, may I know what I will be doing during said detention?" I asked through gritted teeth, already knowing the answer.

"You will be writing lines for me," she smiled maliciously.

---

At 6:30, I began to walk from the library where I had been spending most of my time, to Umbridge's office. My legs felt like boards, stiff and unmoving. I knew I was going to be using the same quill Harry had. The quill that wrote in blood instead of ink. The quill that carved the words into the back of the writer's hand.

I tried to take as much time as possible, but I soon found myself standing in front of the witch's door. Reluctantly, I knocked lightly on the wood.

"Come in," her bitterly sweet voice called.

The room the door opened up to made me want to vomit. The walls were covered in pink. The entire office was pink. So much pink, it seemed like I was inside of a pig. Which fits, I guess.

"Ms Samuels," she smiled at me. "Have a seat, if you would." I sat at the desk she had prepared for me. "You will be using a special quill of mine to write."

I grimaced. "What would you like me to write, Professor?"

"Let's try I must not tell lies, shall we?"

"How many times?" I grimaced again.

"Until the message has sunk in," she smiled.

I picked up the white quill gingerly and cleared my throat. Slowly, I began to write the words across the parchment, not agreeing with any of it. The back of my right hand began to sting. I stole a glance at it and regretted it almost instantly. The words that I already written (I must) were scratched into my skin lightly. I gasped and my head began to spin.

"Is there a problem, Ms Samuels?" the woman smiled at me.

"No, Professor," I squeaked out.

"Wonderful."

---

After writing those three words for over two hours, Umbridge decided that I had had enough.

"You may stop, Ms Samuels," she piped. I sighed in instant relief. "I will expect you here at 7 o'clock for the rest of the week." Before she changed her mind and made me stay longer, I left the room as quickly as I could.

Only when I was in bed with the curtains drawn tightly closed, did I allow myself to look at my hand. The three words had been carved deeply into my skin, leaving a small trickle of blood down my wrist. My eyes began to water and slowly tears dripped down my cheeks.

"M-muffliato," I managed to squeeze out. After the word had fallen from my lips, I allowed the sobs to rack my body.

I firmly believe that everyone has to break down every once in awhile to truly be happy. This was my break down.

My lungs gasped for air in between my shuddering cries. The ribs in my chest felt as if they were expanding to several times their original size, trying to hold my lungs in. My face was squinched up into one of fury and sadness.

That evil woman! I thought to myself. Forcing children to carve words into the back of their hands!

I squeezed my hand close to my chest and cried like I never before had. I cried for losing Draco and Pansy, I cried for being tormented every single day by the people who I used to call friends, I cried for Umbridge's evil ways.

That was how I fell asleep that night. I cried until I was so exhausted my body couldn't handle it.