𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 | 𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝟔𝟏 - 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩

TW - GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD, GORE AND SELF INJURY.

TW - DROWNING, LACK OF BREATHING AND DEATH

Please be careful and skip ahead if you need to.

𝙊𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙙𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘿𝙚𝙛𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝘼𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙨, as she was changing her bandages on her hand in the morning after the fourth detention, cleaning them for what felt like the tenth time. It had become a chore, her hand wouldn't stop bleeding, no matter how many pieces of cotton she shoved into the gaps to absorb the blood.

She had spewed up a couple of mouthfuls of black puke when she first started, but eventually she got used to the sight of her hand when she was cleaning it.

Turpin perched himself on the bathroom counter watching as she put her jumper sleeve in between her teeth as she pulled out the soaked balls of cotton to replace them, it hurt, a lot, but she didn't want anyone to know how truly bad it was.

Especially not Harry, given he was adamant about being responsible for the marks on her skin.

"I still think you should be telling Dumbledore," said Hermione at breakfast, looking at Ophelia and Harry's hands, "It's illegal, and it's foul... it's barbaric and evil, and you're letting her do it."

"I don't exactly have much of a choice, Hermione," said Ophelia sharply. "She knows that I'm a threat, so she locks the quills away... she knows I could report her if I had the quill, otherwise it's her word against mine, and let's face it, Fudge will more likely believe his co-worker than a teenager who made him look like an idiot over summer."

"Then tell your parents-!" said Hermione in a hushed shout

"Oh, and how am I supposed to explain my deceased mother suddenly appearing to knock ten bags of shite out of Umbridge? Hmm? I can't tell anyone, not even dad."

"I'm telling Sirius," said Harry nodding to his letter he was scribbling up, "I wrote a separate one for mum and dad, they're wanting to know how school is going... and I don't think I can mention this to my parents for the same reason Phee mentioned."

Harry put his letter inside an envelope and sealed it, his eyes looking beside him to Ophelia as she sipped on her apple juice absentmindedly the faraway look in her eye returned once again, he caught her doing it more frequently and it was often followed by-

Harry gently reached forward to wipe away the blood that was beginning to trickle out of her nose, she blinked a couple of times and seemed to tune back in as she let Harry wipe away the blood. Smiling softly, he squeezed her knee under the table as Hermione looked at her with a worried bottom lip.

"Ophelia... I don't think your nose bleeding every day is a good sign of your health, you should probably get Madam Pomfrey to check you over, there might be something underlining your health."

"But I feel fine, 'Mione." said Ophelia. "It's just nosebleeds, nothing else, I haven't thrown up in weeks."

"Thrown up?" said Ron, his mouth falling open, "When were you doing that?"

"It doesn't matter, I feel fine. It's nothing." insisted Ophelia, as Hermione reached forward to grab her injured hand gently, forcing Ophelia to look her in the eye.

"You're not invincible Ophelia, you should go, if there's nothing wrong like you said then there's no harm done but at least you know for certain. I just don't want to wake up one day with you surrounded in your own blood again," said Hermione, as Ophelia tightened her jaw a little though her eyes softened. "Or vomiting again..."