"Sometimes I feel like the stars are brighter when you're around."
At this, the dark haired girl giggled, her grey eyes flashing in the moonlight.
"Very cheesy," She smirked, "Although, I was thinking the same thing about you."
"Maybe its because w...
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giving away every ounce of love i have
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry and Lyra stood outside of Professor Umbridges door.
It was 4:59pm and they didn't want to arrive a single minute early.
As they heard the clock chime from across the school, they looked at each other, nodded, and knocked on the door.
"Come in." Said Umbridges sickly sweet voice.
Harry pushed the door open, holding it for Lyra.
"Good evening children."
"Good evening Professor." They both grumbled.
They were sour about missing the quidditch try outs, they would rather be anywhere but in this wretched office.
The walls were pink, the rug was pink, the candles were pink. Every inch of the walls were covered in dainty china plates with pictures of moving cats roaming around.
Lyra loved cats, but not these cats.
There was a framed picture of the minister sitting on her desk, along with a cup of tea and sugar.
Lyra and Harry took seats at the two desks placed in front of them.
"You will be writing some lines for me today," Lyra and Harry each had a piece of parchment and went to grab their quills. "Oh no- you won't be needing a quill, you'll both be using some of mine, they're rather special."
Lyra didn't like the sound of that, but she made sure to keep her poker face on and not show her worry.
"Mr. Potter, you will be writing 'I must not tell lies." She smiled, "And Miss Malfoy, you will be writing 'I must not talk back'."
"How many times?" Harry asked.
"Just until the message sinks in."
She went and sat behind her desk.
They both began writing. After the first few lines, Lyra was feeling a prickling in the back of her left hand.
The more she wrote, the more painful it became.
She looked at her hand in horror, the words 'I must not talk back' we're carving themselves into the back of her left hand.
Careful not to react, she slowly looked over at Harry.
"He was looking at her with a mixture of shock and concern in his eyes."
She was now deep in thought, this seemed like something this woman was capable of, she was hurting but she continued to write. Even more intense than her pain was her overwhelming urge to look over at Harry.
She wanted to hurt Professor Umbridge for hurting him.
He didn't deserve this.
They both suffered in silence for another half hour. They glanced at each other, but never met eyes.
