/𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒\ [𝒔. 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌]

𝟑.𝟡.𝟤

"man is the only creature who refuses to be what he is." ~ Albert Camus

~march 1974~ (continued)

As ridiculous as it sounded, detentions in McGonagall's classroom were something of a comfort to Artemis now. She sat in her usual seat with James on one side and Remus on the other, writing lines with mindless routine. Lines weren't the usual punishment McGonagall gave- usually she had them organizing her office or doing some other task that was actually helpful- but the professor seemed more tired lately. Artemis wondered if it had anything to do with the number of times she had to get up in the middle of the night to scold her and her friends for being out of bed past hours. She felt a little twinge of guilt in her chest.

Beside her, James was tapping his foot restlessly, the only sound in the otherwise silent classroom. Artemis focused on the steady beat, the tap tap tap of James's never ending energy. She looked over and caught his eye. "When do we get out of here?" he mouthed to her, then gave her a small smile.

She shrugged and looked up at the clock. Eleven on the dot. "Half hour?" she mouthed back. He leaned back in his seat and ran his hands over his hair. James didn't usually mind detention, but he hated writing lines. 'Pointless nonsense,' he called it.

Artemis switched from print to cursive for a few lines, then back to print. James stopped tapping his foot for a second and shifted in his seat, then went back to tapping. She looked over at Remus's paper, where he was writing comically slow in careful, looping calligraphy. "I will not leave my common room past curfew ... I will not leave my common room past curfew ... I will not leave my common room past curfew."

After the weekend of detentions she'd served with Filch when she'd dropped the jar in the hallway, this was nothing. He'd had her working out in the freezing ice and snow hand shoveling the walkway to the castle and scrubbing frost from the windows. At least now she was indoors. Her hands still hurt from the memory of picking up the broken glass, even after Lily had carefully bandaged them with Dittany in the common room as she railed against Filch in her soft, ever-calming voice.

Now, Artemis's left hand was bandaged once again. Madame Pomfrey had scolded her for being out of bed so late, but had given her a potion to make the pain go away. Artemis tried to calculate how long it had been since she'd last taken it. The potion wore off every four hours... she'd taken it at... had it been six? Seven? She couldn't remember. Either way, the throbbing pain was back and Artemis bit down on the inside of her cheek hard.

At last, McGonagall stirred in the front of the room. "That'll be enough for tonight," she said, standing up and straightening her dress. "Go straight back to the common room, no detours." She shot a pointed look at James, who returned it with a charming grin. McGonagall's voice softened. "And get some sleep," she said, moving to collect their papers. "We all need more sleep around here."