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CASSIOPEIA DUG HER THROBBING HAND INTO THE POCKET OF HER ROBES AT DINNER. During the day, the words that were carved into her hand broke open and started to bleed again. Cassiopeia did her best to stop it but she could still feel little droplets drip down her fingers from time to time. It was still sore so she was trying her best not to use her left hand very much, but keeping it hidden was hard. She had a suspicion Draco was starting to get skeptical of her only using one hand and she knew that Pansy caught a glimpse of it when she put her ring on. But Pansy and Cassiopeia hated each other so much that the girl didn't care enough to ask about it.
It was Friday, the last night of Umbridge's detentions. Cassiopeia had never been more grateful in her life. She hated Umbridge and her unethical torture methods. The Slytherin thought about going to Madam Pomfrey to get something to soothe the pain but decided against it. Pain was something we needed to feel to get through this world, no matter how excruciating it was.
She and Harry had made a silent agreement not to tell anyone about what went on during their detentions. They wouldn't give Umbridge the satisfaction of knowing that she got to them. They were going to take it no matter how harsh and brutal it was. Cassiopeia would rather die than give Umbridge an ounce of satisfaction. The old toad didn't deserve it.
After dinner, Cassiopeia walked with Draco out into the Entrance Hall. They stood at the bottom of the steps for a few moments, Cassiopeia not wanting to go to Umbridge's office at all. Finally, Draco asked with a sigh, "When are your detentions over?
Cassiopeia shrugged, "Tonight. Hopefully."
"It's just lines though, isn't it? That's what you said the other day."
"Yeah. Just lines."
"Still better than Snape's. He made Crabbe and Goyle polish every trophy in the trophy room, twice!"
"I suppose so. But I'd rather reek of polish than spend any more time with that woman than needed."
"She's not that bad, Cass. Give her a chance."
Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes at him, "'Not that bad?' Whatever you say."
The girl went to turn on her heel and walk up the stairs, but Draco caught her arm. She winced a bit as Draco gripped onto her bad one, the one with letters carved into her skin. Draco noticed and slightly loosened his hold, not completely letting go. He raised a brow, "Are you okay, Cass?"
Cassiopeia swiftly pulled away from him, digging her hand deeper into her pocket. She spat, "Yeah. I'm fine."
She made to walk up the stairs again but Draco called out, "Cass! You know you can talk to me, right? If something's hurting, I can fix it."
Cassiopeia frowned for a second. He can't fix it. Pain can't be fixed. And she wasn't just talking about the stinging sensation coursing through her hand either. Internal pain couldn't be fixed either. The broken heart that Cassiopeia carried in her chest could only be mended by one person. A person she would most likely never be close with again.
