Chapter 75: Theoretical Practice

23 2 0
                                    

[Notebook - Melanie Martinez]

𓆙
Mon. 4th September 1995 - 7:15am...

Waking up in a soft, silk bed, beside Draco Malfoy has always been one of my favourite ways of starting my mornings.

Over the weekend, we traveled to Hogsmeade for some tea and breakfast, shopping for expensive items and lounging around in his dormitory.

However, no matter how hard he tried to hide it from me, I could sense his frustration which lingered from the summer. His corrupted fear slowly surfacing the further I slept next to him; bubbling and soon threatening to explode.

Every time I brought up the question of how his summer had been, he'd shake his head, avoiding any and all possible relations to that topic too.

Our sex has gradually become rougher — More aggressive on his end. At first, I thought it was an improvement on his stamina. However, it wasn't.

It was his form of escapism.

I was his form of escapism.

From what? I wasn't all that sure. What I did know is the guilt in his eyes the following mornings, when he seen the small bruises on my hips due to how hard he'd been holding onto me.

Draco would never hurt me willingly. He vowed to protect me from harm.

I have reason to believe whatever he saw, or was apart of, during the summer has taken a toll on him.

Running my hands through his platinum hair, I listened to his deep breathing.

His breath hit my collarbone, as he hugged my torso. His head rising and falling with the motion of my chest. His fair eyelashes fluttered every so often while he slept.

We had class today, but I didn't want to get up. Not whenever he lay on me, content and peaceful. Completely undisturbed. I wish magic had the ability to pause time, or slow it, so that I may stay just a little while longer in his arms.

Unfortunately, our comfortable bubble was interrupted when the alarm on his clock rung on the bedside table.

𓆙
9:30am...

Settling down at the back of the room, with Draco on my right, so many of us already dreaded this class.

While waiting for the Professor to show up, the Patil twins created a bird charm which flew around the room. Seamus hit it, and Daphne blew it towards Theodore.

As he reached for it, the bird burst into flames, dropping onto a pile of ashes on his desk.

The door closed behind us in a loud bang. "Good morning, children." Umbridge squeaked, clopping her way up to the front of the room.

"I expect you're all ready for some proper and safe learning this year." She said, using her wand to write O.W.Ls on the blackboard with white chalk. "This year you all have your Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations... Which are more commonly know as owls."

I lean forward on my hand, fighting back the urge to roll my eyes and sigh heavily. I stare forward in her direction.

"After performing some research before happily accepting the role of your new Professor, I found the previous instruction in this subject has been disturbingly... uneven."

"But, you'll all be pleased to know, the Ministry has successfully changed this. With a Ministry-Approved course of defensive magic." She passed out a pile of books from her desk, "In my class, we will learn about spells in a safe, and risk-free way."

Sharing a glance, me and Draco quickly flick through our books. Theory. It was all questions, metaphorical terms, and hypothetical situations.

Hermione beat us all to it, raising her hand. "There's nothing in here about using defensive spells."

Umbridge laughed, "Using spells? Why I can't imagine why you would ever be needing to use defensive spells in my classroom."

"...for protection?" Kage mumbled, "Isn't that the whole point of this class? To study defensive arts?"

"Yes. But we're going to be talking about spells, in theory —  Learning of spells, in a secure and risk-free way."

My brother spoke up next, "Well, what good use is that? If we're going to be attacked, it isn't going to be risk-free."

"Students shall raise their hands, if they wish to speak in my classroom, Mr. Potter." Umbridge declared. "A theoretical response to this subject will suffice. It's all you need for your exams, and it will get you through your school year, unharmed. Completely protected, under the close eye of the Ministry."

Harry then mockingly lifts his arm, holding it above his head. "And how is theory supposed to protect us from whatever's out there?" He stretched his arm further, until Umbridge's face grew bright red.

"Nothing is out there, dear child." Umbridge sighed, placing her wand down upon her desk. "Whoever would want to willingly harm young adults, like yourselves?"

"Oh, I don't know... Let me think," Harry scrunched up his nose, "Maybe, oh yeah — Lord Voldemort?"

Rubbing my temples, I purse my lips out. I bite my tongue, holding myself back from speaking out too.

Harry, what the hell are you doing?

The air of the room became heavy. No one dared to move, or even breath.

Umbridge closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Opening them, she took a step towards him. "Now... I want all of you to listen to me, very carefully. A second foot has been at play here, and rumours of a certain dark individual has been circulating around this school for months. And let me tell you..."

She stopped, tilting her head down at him. "This. Is. A. Lie—"

"It's not a lie!" Harry jumped up, slamming his hands on the table. He gave everyone quite a fright. "He's back! I seen him, I fought him—"

"Sit down!" Umbridge shrieked, and he lowered himself back down onto his seat. "I don't know what type of sick and twisted person you are, Mr. Potter, but I shall not have you telling and spreading such cruel lies in my classroom. Using others as bait for your propaganda is outrageous."

"I'm not lying! I saw him—!"

"Detention, Mr. Potter!"

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?"

"Cedric Diggory's death..." She puffed the ends of her hair up, faking her sympathy with the worst frown imaginable. "...was such a tragic accident."

Harry gestured to himself, "It was murder — Voldemort killed him! It happened right there in front of me—"

"Enough!" Umbridge screeched, flailing her arms down to her sides, similar to a small child having a tantrum. "Enough... See me later, Mr. Potter. For detention, in my office."

𓆙

'Tell Me Pretty Lies,' by moongirlelWhere stories live. Discover now