Like wildfire
It starts in my chest
The silence grows louder
Ringing out in my head
I feel the Earth shaking under my feet
I feel the pressure building until I can't breathe
And it takes everything
And it spills out
Reckless but honest words leave out my mouth
Like kerosene on a flame of doubt
I couldn't make it right
Alarms will sound
But it's too late for holy water now
Sooner or later the fire dies down
I'll open up my eyes
And I'll try and find the image of God
In mountains made of ash and clouds of smoke

LUCY:

Harry and Ron skipped dinner to go practice Quidditch, which was just as well. I didn't want Harry finding out about what Malfoy had done, especially since I knew she wouldn't possibly make me write with the quill once I explained to her what had actually happened. So, at five o'clock sharp, I knocked on her door. I had taken the bandage off, thinking she might see how raw the skin on my hand still was and consider that when I told her the truth.

"Oh, Miss Everlin, how good to see you. Please, come in. You know what to do."

"A-Actually, Professor," I said, rocking back and forth on my feet nervously as I remained in the doorway, "it would seem there's been a misunderstanding. I never attacked anyone on the train."

She smiled. I felt my heart drop. "Why don't you come in, and we can discuss this further?"

I didn't resist a second time. I entered the room, and she shut the door behind me.

"Why don't you have a seat?" she said, gesturing to the seat at the desk, where the quill and paper were already waiting.

"I would rather-" I tried to say, honestly intending to make my case then leave, but her eyes hardened.

"Sit."

I did, hating myself for being so nervous. I swallowed away my fear and said in the strongest voice I could muster. "I never attacked Draco Malfoy on the train, Professor."

"Now, now, Lucy, we've already discussed this! You must not tell lies."

"I'm not lying! He's the one who's lying!" I insisted, but my voice shook. I was losing this war of words.

"Mr. Malfoy informed me that on the train to Hogwarts this year, he noticed you were in possession of a Crup, which is not allowed, and when he attempted to investigate, you made a number of rude comments to him that ultimately resulted in you drawing your wand and attacking him, effectively stopping him from taking disciplinary action at the time. He confessed to me that he was too afraid of being attacked again to pursue the matter further, and he was hoping I would be able to assist him."

"I never attacked Draco Malfoy," I said again. "I could bring anybody from that compartment to prove it, there were a number of other witnesses who would support me-"

"Oh, there is no need for that," she replied with a smile. "Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle accompanied Mr. Malfoy and supported his story. I have sufficient evidence proving that you have lied to me tonight, Miss Everlin. You know what to do." She nodded at the quill. "'I must not tell lies,' until the message sinks in, better this time than it did last time."

"But I'm not lying," I said one last time. "I did have a Crup, but it was allowed by the Headmaster, I had written permission with me at the time. I can't deny that I made comments that I shouldn't have made, and I did draw my wand, but I didn't use any spells against him."

Umbridge clucked her tongue. "Such a shame you have yet to learn not to tell lies. You may begin writing now, and I would like to not hear another word from you until you have finished."

It's fight or flight
Buried in my mind

Fight.

I felt white-hot anger flash in me, but it didn't disappear. The fire continued to grow.

Maybe I'd lost the war of words, but I refused to let her defeat me in the end.

After all, I was many things — a werewolf, an American, a Diggory, an Everlin — but I was not a liar.

I gripped the quill and began to write, but my fury made my hand tremble worse than ever.

The pain was worse, so much worse, than it had been the first time. The first time, I had been in so much shock I could barely feel it. The first time, I was distracted, waging war on myself, trying to decide what to tell Harry, if anything. The first time, the pain was just one of many horrible things happening within me, and the least important of these things at that.

The second time, the searing pain only made the angry fire grow hotter, and hotter, and hotter.

But still I fought.

When she finally made her way over to see how I was progressing, the back of my hand was a mess, nicked with accidental scratches straying from the letters when my fingers had twitched and sent the quill in the wrong direction, completely covered in my own crimson blood.

She had the audacity to frown.

"It is unfortunately not as clear as I would like it to be. Come back once your hand has healed over, and we'll try again."

I put my bag over my shoulder without a word and made my way to the door. But when I laid my uninjured hand on the doorknob, Professor Umbridge had one last comment.

"I will never understand why you tried to lie to me tonight, Lucy. After all, Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, is one of the most reputable and trustworthy men in the Ministry, and I would expect nothing less from his son, who has caused no trouble whatsoever in my class."

I felt as if I'd been slapped across the face.

Lucius Malfoy, from the caves.

Lucius Malfoy, reputable and trustworthy.

It's fight or flight
It keeps my mind cold

Flight.

I was tired of fighting a losing battle.

"Have a good night, Professor," I said as I left the room.

The door shut behind me.

My hand was throbbing.

The world around me pitched.

My foot shot forward to catch me.

The world steadied a bit.

I took another step forward.

I walked to the end of the corridor, turned the corner, and kept walking. One foot in front of the other, all in the direction of the Gryffindor common room.

I was dizzy. I was still reeling.

What just happened?

"I'm nowhere near as good a Chaser as Lucy is, but you blocked most of my shots tonight! You're really getting better, mate!"

Before I could even think about trying to run and hide, Ron and Harry had rounded the corner.

My eyes found Harry's. His smile instantly faded.

Harry and Ron spotted my hand at the same time.

Before I could even blink, they were right in front of me, Harry's hand shooting forward for mine.

"What happened?" Ron asked, reading the words on my hand and looking as if he'd be sick.

"Umbridge," Harry muttered. He looked at me, face paler than it had been in a long time, possibly ever. "Lucy, what did she- why did-"

I shook my head, but before I could answer, Hermione appeared around the corner.

She didn't notice my hand as she walked over, saying, "Well, there you three are! When you didn't come back, Lucy, I figured she had given you lines, and I was just about to head up and see if I could help by telling her the tru-" She froze when she saw the bloodied mess that was my hand, and her jaw dropped in horror. "Lucy, you have to report this! And Harry-" Hermione reached for his hand, revealing the identical words on his hand. "Harry, you t-"

"I thought she was giving you lines!" Ron said, eyes wide as he looked from my hand to Harry's.

"She was, in her own way," I replied in a small voice. I cradled my hand to my chest. It was stinging, burning, throbbing.

"Come on, we need to talk about this and I don't want her to find us," Hermione said. She cracked the door to the nearest classroom and waved us in once she confirmed it was empty.

I collapsed into a chair, still holding my hand up against my chest.

I closed my eyes, seeing black and red flash behind my eyelids.

But I feel it break
With just one misstep down a fire escape
And suddenly I'm someone that prays
A last minute man of faith
But I'll leave behind miles and miles of jagged lines
Upon the surface of the Divine
I wish I could set them straight
Till it all spills out

I couldn't help it. When I tried to explain what had happened in her office, I couldn't help but begin to cry.

It was devastating. It was humiliating. It was defeating.

Harry jumped up once the story was done. "I'm going to find Malfoy. This is the last time I'm letting him get away with doing this to you."

"No, it's okay," I choked out, catching his sleeve just before he stormed off.

"Lucy, please," he said, clearly on the verge of an angry outburst but trying desperately to keep his voice level for my sake. "This is not okay. Look at you, look at your hand, this isn't- I can't just let him do this again and again-"

"Lucy's right, Harry," Hermione piped up. "You can't risk getting into trouble-"

"I don't care! I don't care if I get into trouble, not one bloody bit! He's been nothing but horrible to us for years, all four of us! Look at her hand, Hermione, give me one good reason I shouldn't go march down to the Slytherin common room right now and-"

"Let Hermione and I handle it, mate, we're prefects too," Ron said.

Harry's eyes flashed dangerously. I knew Ron hadn't meant anything bad by his prefect comment, but it hit a little too close to home for Harry.

"Please don't go," I whispered. A fresh wave of tears coursed down my cheeks. "You might not care if you get into trouble, Harry, but I do. Please don't do anything to Malfoy, it's my own fault. I shouldn't have threatened him."

"But you didn't do anything wrong," he protested.

I winced as a fresh wave of pain accompanied the fresh wave of tears, and I dropped his sleeve to cradle my hand.

Something in Harry's expression softened, and he slowly sat back down next to me. "Alright. If you don't want me to do anything to Malfoy, I won't. But..." His eyes wandered to my hand, which was still bleeding. "Bloody hell, Lucy, let me see that."

I winced again as I held out my hand for all three of them to examine. Harry started to clean my hand with the sleeve of his Quidditch jumper, and the voices of him and Ron and Hermione swirled around me incoherently as the pain grew nearly unbearable.

I just want you, Cedric, I thought to myself, closing my eyes and resting my head against the desk, Harry still keeping pressure against the wound as best he could. At that point, he had just pulled his sleeve over his palm and gripped my hand.

"You two really should report this," Hermione said, one of the only clear things I had been able to understand.

I lifted my head with some effort. "No."

"Why not? Professor McGonagall would want to know-"

"I don't know how much power she has over Umbridge," I said.

"Dumbledore, then?" Ron suggested.

Harry shook his head. "He has enough on his mind."

"We should probably go back to the common room," I suggested before any other suggestions could be made. I didn't want anybody else knowing about what had happened. "The last thing we want is for her to catch us out after curfew."

There was a general murmur of agreement, and we slipped back out into the hallway. I tucked my hand into my pocket to prevent my blood from getting all over the floor and stuck close to Harry.

A sickeningly sweet "hem, hem" behind us made us all freeze in our tracks.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Everlin, just the people I wanted to see. Will you come with me for a second?"

Ron looked as if he had a couple choice words for Umbridge, but Hermione smiled with false sincerity at Umbridge and gestured for Ron to follow her. Harry stood protectively half a step in front of me as we stopped in front of Umbridge. We towered over her, in terms of height, so it was almost embarrassing to be so afraid of her.

She had a smile glued to her face that made something deep within me burn with anger despite the sadness that had flooded me just a short while earlier. "I wanted to see how your lesson was coming along, Mr. Potter, and compare it to what Miss Everlin learned tonight."

Harry cocked his head. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Your hand, please," Umbridge replied, holding her hand out.

He held his injured hand out for her to see, but as soon as her skin touched his, he winced.

I blinked, startled. His scab had closed over. Did it still hurt?

But as soon as he winced, he assumed a neutral expression again. Umbridge dropped his hand and reached for mine, and it was my turn to wince.

"It would seem you have done a better job of learning your lesson, Mr. Potter," she reported, dropping my hand. "So far, at least."

Harry and I exchanged a brief glance before looking back at her, neither of us knowing what to say in response.

She merely smiled. "See you in class tomorrow." And with that, she turned, and her heels clicked all the way down the hall and into the next.

I turned to Harry. "Does your hand still hurt?" I whispered.

He shook his head, staring in the direction she had disappeared. "My scar was what hurt."

"It wouldn't surprise me," I spat. "If she really was... you know. In league with Voldemort."

Harry didn't reply for a second. Finally, he blinked and turned to face me. "Are you alright? Really alright?" he asked in a voice so gentle I nearly started crying again.

I opted instead for practically jumping on him in a hug.

He seemed to understand well enough what my answer was, even though I didn't say a word.

Reckless but honest words leave out my mouth
Like kerosene on a flame of doubt
I just couldn't make it right
Alarms will sound
But it's too late for holy water now
Sooner or later the fire dies down
I'll open up my eyes again

"Anger"
Sleeping At Last