❛ chapter six ⎜ detention ❜

𝐈 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒.

"He could have gone already," Kiera offered. I shook my head.

"I'm gonna wait. Go find Sylvia. I'll meet you there."

Kiera smiled at me, her dark brown eyes keen and full of love. "They're both fine, Elise. It's Hogwarts after all. What would go wrong?"

I watched her turn and melt into the crowd, a wry smile appearing on my lips. A lot, Kiera. A lot has and a lot will.

I sighed, letting my smile fall. The crowd was thinning. Maybe he was already downstairs...

"Well, Professor Snape doesn't hate me - I mean, I guess he kinda does but not as much as he hates you." A blonde head appeared, Charlie's mouth going a mile a minute. He trailed off as he saw me.

"Elise!" he cried, his robes flapping as he ran toward me and leaped into my arms.

I laughed. "Hey little guy. How are you?" I squeezed him. "Look at you, in Gryffindor. I wasn't expecting that."

I could feel his grin. "I wanted to be like you and Monica. Brave. Strong."

My smile faded slightly at the mention of her name. I pushed away, gazing at him. "Charlie... what happened with her?"

He pursed his lips, some strange emotion entering his eyes. "I... I don't know. It's all confusing."

I gave him a sad smile, feeling guilty as he looked at the floor. Of course, he felt sad. He was separated from his twin. It must have felt like a part of him was missing.

"I know." I grabbed him, pulling him into another hug. He squeezed me, neither of us wanting to let go.

"Ahem," came a voice. I peered over Charlie's shoulder and the dark skinned boy Charlie had been talking with. His hair was close cropped and his spectacles covered large green eyes .

"Sorry," I apologized. I stuck out one hand, the other still around Charlie. "I'm Elise, Charlie's older sister."

He smiled. "I'm Theodore Thomas, but I go by Theo. You might know my older brother, he's in your year. His name's Dean."

"I know Dean," I said. I smiled. "It's nice to meet you Theo."

Theo nodded in agreement. "It's nice to finally meet you too."

I cocked my head. "Finally?"

"My brother talks about you and your friend all the time," Theo shrugged as my eyebrows raised to my hairline, "so it's nice to finally meet the person behind the name."

"I didn't know," I said, my mind whirling. Dean Thomas? Why is he talking about me, Sylvia and Kiera all the time...? I'll deal with that later.

I looked down at Charlie, who was still clutching my chest. "Yo. Char."

"Hmm?"

"If you see Monica, tell her to meet me in the Library during lunch."

"Elise, Monica's not going to miss lunch, even to talk to you."

I chuckled. "I know, but I have.... something else after dinner."

"Elise. Monica is not going to miss any part of lunch to meet you."

"Fine. Tomorrow night after dinner?

"Sure."

"You come two. I want both of you there. " I felt him nod into my stomach.

"Elise?" Charlie asked a few seconds later as we walked toward the Common Room door.

"Yeah?" I asked absentmindedly. Charlie turned to me, his blue eyes the most serious I had ever seen them.

"There's a reason Monica's in Ravenclaw. I know you see her as trouble, but maybe she sees herself through a different lens."

"Yeah," I mumbled. "I know."

Charlie offered me his signature grin. "See you later. C'mon Theo."

He hurried away with his friend, leaving me with a million and one thoughts running through my head.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

The rest of the day passed rather eventfully. Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick both started off their lessons by lecturing us for who-knows-how-long - all of which Sylvia managed to ignore.

In Charms, we reviewed the Cheering Charm. What's the point of that spell anyways? I could be used for a prank I guess, but nothing practical.

Kiera and Hermione managed - unsurprisingly - to vanish both their snails in Transfiguration.

"Elise," Ron whispered to me as I was struggling to cast the spell.

"Yes, Weasley 6?"

He sighed. "Bloody hell Elise. I've asked you not to call me that."

"If I say 'Weasley' at your place, everyone looks up. So you're Weasley 6."

"Oh yeah, why didn't you come over this summer?"

"We had other things," I muttered, saying the spell and waiting eagerly for my snail to vanish. "Dang it."

"The entire summer?"

I sighed, turning to face him for the first time in the conversation. "What did you want to tell me?"

He looked at me blankly. "What?"

I rolled my eyes. "Ronald Weasley. Either tell me what you wanted to or stop wasting my time."

"Elise, I just wanted - " before he could get another word out, Professor McGonagall swept by, giving us both pointed glances.

"I can still see both your snails."

"Sorry Professor," I mumbled, shooting a look at Ron.

"Can I talk to you later?"

"I have detention."

"Tomorrow?"

"Depends when."

"Our break?"

"Unlike you," I sighed, "I like doing my homework before it piles up."

"It'll take 5 minutes."

"Fine. Now stop talking, Weasley 6, and let me concentrate."

I heard his snort and I smiled.

By the end of the class, my snail had vanished. Ron's had not.

Then of course, during Care of Magical Creatures, there was more trouble. Hagrid was still gone, but for once we got a good lesson.

When Professor Grubbly-Plank told us to, I pulled out a piece of parchment and ink to begin my sketch of a Bowtruckle - a wood-like, pixie-like figure with long, knobby limbs, flat faces, and beetle-like eyes.

"Where's Hagrid?" I heard Harry ask from beside me. I sighed.

Why can't you stay silent and enjoy a good Care of Magical Creatures lesson? I grumbled to myself.

"Never you mind," Professor Grubbly-Plank dismissively.

"Maybe the stupid oaf's got himself badly injured," said a snide voice.

"Draco," I reprimanded, grabbing myself a Bowtruckle. "Leave him alone."

"You shouldn't be mixing with people like this," Draco sneered, jerking his finger at Harry.

"I-" began Harry hotly. I shot him a look and he closed his mouth with a snap.

"I can take care of myself, thank you," I said to Draco handing him my Bowtruckle and taking another.

"Does your father approve of him?" muttered Draco once Harry was out of earshot.

I laughed dryly. "I've talked to him thrice this year and once before that. The only thing my father would be interested in is the fact that I've actually talked to him. He's very interested in the reason Harry survived. You know him."

"You should stay away from Potter."

"Draco," I said firmly, "you mind you own business and I'll mind mine."

"He's trouble," Draco said, his lip curling.

"Perhaps I should ask you why your father has been accused of being a Death Eater?"

Draco flushed. "How - why - how dare you?"

"Like I said," a small, fake smile appeared on my lips, "you mind your business and I'll find mine." With that I turned and walked over to Kiera and Sylvia.

5 o'clock approached way faster than I wanted it to. With five minutes left, I begrudgingly said goodbye to my friends, ignored Kiera's pointed looks, and set off for Professor Umbridge's office.

Harry met me at the entrance of the Great Hall.

Wordlessly, we continued on together.

"What happened?" Harry's voice cut through the thick silence that had settled over us.

"You mean with Draco? We're-"

"Not that," he interrupted, "Although, I am curious about it. I mean with you."

I huffed. "Care to be more specific?"

"Are there two of you? On the train and with Malfoy you seemed... distant. When we were seeing the... things and when you stood by me against Umbridge, you seemed real. What's up with that?"

"I..." I trailed off, in complete shock. On the train and with Draco I had felt painted. With the creatures and with Professor Umbridge I had felt alive. How did he notice? No one else did, not even Kiera and Sylvia, my best friends. Ron didn't either. Nor did Draco. How could one boy who I had barely talked to guess my darkest secret without even trying? "W - what makes you think that?" Even I could hear how weak my voice sounded.

"It just seems obvious." Harry shrugged.

"I - I'm the same person," I said, trying to convince myself as much as him, "You must be imagining it."

"Okay," he said, not sounding like he believed it at all.

Thankfully, Professor Umbridge's office door appeared. I never thought I would be thankful to see that toad, but at the moment, anything to help me escape the awkward tension that hung in the air would be a relief.

Harry opened the door, entering. I followed.

As I stopped in, I nearly hurled.

Every available surface had been draped in lacy cloth. Vases with dried flowers on a doily decorated the room sporadically. On the wall was a large collection of technicolored kittens all wearing different colored bows. It was horrific.

"Good evening Mr. Potter. Good evening Miss Devereaux." I turned to see Professor Umbridge smiling widely, wearing an equally ugly pair of flowered robes that blended in with the wall and tablecloth behind her.

"Good evening," I murmured.

"Mr. Potter, please sit down. Miss Devereaux, you will be going with Mr. Filch. He will lead you detention."

At his name, the mangy caretaker stepped into the light. He grinned sadistically. I bit my lips to keep from grimacing. Honestly, I couldn't tell who was uglier between him and Professor Umbridge.

Harry shot me what looked like a pleading glance, but there was nothing I could do. I shrugged and followed the wheezing man out of the room.

"Oh how I wish the old punishments were still around," Filch muttered to himself, shuffling along. "I could hang you from the ceiling. That'd teach you not to go around causing trouble! Cleaning out cabinets without magic, that hardly counts. Humph."

Cleaning out cabinets without magic? I wondered. That's not all that bad.

Understatement of the year. Seven hours later, I stumbled up the stairs, exhausted.

Who would think that dusting is impossible? I grumbled to myself. All I wanted was to go crash on bed and sleep until the new year.

Unfortunately, there was still something I wanted to do.

I knocked on Professor Umbridge's door just as it opened. I stumbled, nearly crashing into an equally exhausted Harry.

"Sorry," I mumbled, pushing past him.

The room looked just as hideous as before, even more so if that was possible. The lamps threw the hideous decoration into sharper light. I eyed Professor Umbridge, who looked happier, something that put me on edge. She needs both an interior designer and a stylist.

"Yes, Miss Devereaux?"

I stood stiffly, looking Professor Umbridge in her pouchy little eyes. "I wanted to apologize for speaking out of turn during class." The words felt like lead on my tongue, but I forced them out. It's the right thing to do. It's the right thing to do. "I accept that it was wrong and I promise that it will not happen again."

"Thank you Miss Devereaux," Professor Umbridge said sweetly, her voice sounding slightly normal for once. "Your father works with the Ministry, correct?"

I nodded. "He works as a French Ambassador."

Professor Umbridge nodded. "We've interacted. Lovely man."

"He speaks highly of you," I said. Okay, that's enough. Now you're lying through your teeth. "I should get to bed. Good night."

"To you as well," Professor Umbridge said, her eyes tracking me as I exited.

I let out a sigh of relief as soon as the door was closed. I leaned against the side of the corridor, closing my eyes.

"Triple faced, aren't you?"

I sighed. "I'm not in the mood to deal with you."

"You don't have to deal with me," Harry said angrily, "I have no words for someone like you. I should have known; Anyone who's friends with a Malfoy must be evil."

" 'I have no words for someone like you'? Someone who doesn't want their parents sending a Howler you mean?" I said sarcastically, setting off down the hallway. "That's an awful person to be. Why are you still talking to Ron then? He spent the entire second year keeping himself in line."

There was a pause. "What?"

I rolled my eyes. "For someone who thinks he can read me like a book, you've got a lot to learn. It's called acting."

Another pause. "What?"

I sighed, looking at him. He - still - had a shocked expression on his face. "Are you deaf, stupid, or both? As you must have heard why you were eavesdropping, my father works with Professor Umbridge. He hates her, of course. That was a lie." I saw Harry grimace out of the corner of my eye, but I ignored it. "She can easily send him an owl. She probably will, just like she would to your parents if they still lived." Okay, maybe that wasn't the best thing to say. Jeez, the exhaustion is getting to my head. "But if I apologize and compliment her, she won't make it seem as bad as she would have. And my father won't send a Howler."

"I..."

"I've never seen you speechless, Potter. Am I that dramatic?" I smiled teasingly, flipping my hair mockingly. Elise. Stop it. Are you flirting? You are flirting. You need to stop.

"I..."

I sighed. "If you're going to keep acting like this, I'm going. Goodnight, Harry." I sped ahead.

"Wait! Elise!"

I waited patiently. "Yes?" I asked once he had caught up with me.

"You really are dramatic, aren't you?"

I smiled. "Not usually."

"Saving it for me?" he teased. I laughed, feeling oddly familiar with him. We'd never spoken before that year, and yet it was like I'd known him all my life.

"You wish."

We lapsed into silence, this time comfortable.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you," Harry mumbled. I shrugged.

"I just thought you were better than that. Judging me by my friends, really Harry? That's a Draco move. That's not you."

"You don't know me," he said, not unkindly.

"Really?" I asked. "Aren't you the boy who would befriend a giant and a werewolf because they had good hearts? The boy who stood up to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when he was 11 because he knew it was the right thing to do? Aren't you the same person who dove into the Chamber of Secret to save Ginny and who rescued Sirius Black against all odds? Aren't you the same person who would go through a week of detention to tell the world that you stand by what you believe in?"

There was a pause.

"You know a lot about me for someone who I've never talked to," Harry said finally.

"I told you earlier. Do you have memory loss in addition to permanent stupidity? My father's - well, I told you earlier. I've heard a lot about you."

When I looked over at Harry, his face was colder.

"Dear Merlin, I wasn't sent to watch over you!" I sighed. "I eavesdrop, I'm not told anything. Honestly, you would think I'm talking to a two year old."

"It's suspicious that you've only started talking to me now."

I harrumphed. "In case you haven't noticed, I was helping you stand up to an evil frog, and I was being confronted by an angry, hormonal teenager who was falsely accusing me of being evil because I talk to someone I've known since I was little."

Harry was silent again.

"You sure think a lot for someone who says such stupid things," I commented.

"Blunt, aren't you?"

"And here you go again," I sighed.

Thankfully, by that time, we had reached the common room.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," I told the Fat Lady.

"What are you doing out here so late?" she grumbled, not looking happy at being woken up.

"Detention," I sighed, the words feeling strange on my tongue. I climbed past her as she swung open.

"Elise!" cried a voice.

I turned, halfway across the room. Jaimie was sitting by the fireplace.

"Jaimie?" I asked. "What are you doing awake?"

"I could ask the same of you," he said, hurriedly - and very suspiciously - folding up a piece of parchment.

"Detention," I answered quickly, "and you?"

"Detention?" Jaimie asked. "So the rumors going around are true."

"Yup."

"Who's your friend?" Jaimie asked, squinting past me.

"Hm? Oh, sorry. Jaimie, meet my detention partner, Harry. Harry, meet my ex, Jaimie."

Jaimie's eyes bulged, looking like a golf ball. "Harry Potter?"

"Yes," Harry said wearily. He looked at me strangely. "Did you say ex?"

"Yes," Jaimie and I said together.

"I thought- " Harry waved his arms around, "but what about- ah never mind." He shifted, looking uncomfortable.

"What's on the parchment?" I asked, pointing at the tiny square hidden in Jaimie's hand.

"What?" he asked shiftily. "Oh. Nothing."

Obviously it wasn't, but I was too tired to push. "Okay then. Goodnight both of you."

"Goodnight," they echoed.

Later as I lay in bed after changing into my pajamas, I realized something. My conversation with Harry had felt strange, different. And I'd finally figured out why.

Not once during my conversation had I had to fake a smile. It all came naturally.

𝔸𝕌𝕋ℍ𝕆ℝ𝕊 ℕ𝕆𝕋𝔼

Hey guys! How's it going? I know it's been a while since I updated, but things have been crazy! I managed to sit down and write four pages one day though, and then it took me quite a few more to edit.

Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon.

I wanted to thank you guys so much. This book has around 400 reads, and I'm so proud!

I hope you enjoyed!