The Way We Fall | Book 3

Chapter 7: Blood Quills

"Harry, you really shouldn't have argued with her," Hermione scolded as we sat in the common room. "I know, Hermione. I'm just so sick of people not believing me." He replied, sighing. "Riley, you shouldn't have said what you said, either. Now you're both in trouble," I rolled my eyes at her, and sighed. "I thought it was brilliant." Ron commented, earning a smack in the head.

"I hope she doesn't keep us too long. Dad's expecting me to write to him this evening." I said, ignoring the other two. "Who knows? I'm worried about what she'll do to us. Clearly she hates us." Harry answered. "She'll probably make us polish her many 'Looks Most Like A Toad' awards." We both laughed at that, and packed up our things to leave. Then, leaving Ron and Hermione behind to argue, we left for detention.

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When Harry and I finally reached Umbridge's office, I knocked on the door. "Come in," Ugh, how I hate her voice! Harry pushed the door open, only to reveal the most hideous room I've ever seen in my entire life. At least for someone who hates the color pink and is allergic to cats. Let me just begin with the fact that literally everything in sight was pink, except for the little mewing pictures of kittens on the wall. I knew Umbridge was a cat lady! I'll have to ask Hermione if perhaps Crookshanks likes eating toads.

Suddenly, I felt a rather sharp pain in the hand that was holding Harry's. It sort of felt like I got electrocuted or something. Apparently, Harry felt it as well, because we both jerked our hands back, and frowned at each other. Then, we turned to Umbridge, who was sitting at her pink desk, lowering her wand. Guess she's jealous that she doesn't have a hand to hold. "Good evening Mr. Potter and Miss Winters. Sit," She said, as though nothing happened, and gestured to two desks sitting side by side. 

We did as we were told, and stared down at the parchment in front of us. The mewing of those kittens were already getting on my last nerve. "The two of you are going to be writing some lines for me today." She told us. We reached for our bags, to retrieve our quills and ink. "No, not with your quill. You're going to be using a rather special one of mine." I looked up at the toad, as she handed us both a large, black quill. I have never seen a quill like this. To be honest, I feel like it's going to do something horrible, considering the fact that a regular quill wasn't good enough to write with.

"Mr. Potter, I want you to write, 'I must not tell lies.'" She instructed. Harry bit his lip, clearly trying to keep himself from shouting again. "How many times?" He asked instead. "Well, let's say for as long as it takes the message to sink in." She then looked at me, and smirked. "Miss Winters, I want you to write, 'I must learn to treat the Hogwarts High Inquisitor properly.'" I frowned at her. "The what?"

"No questions, please. Mr. Potter's instructions apply to you as well." With that, she turned around, and faced the window. "You haven't given us any ink," Harry stated irritably. "Oh, you won't need any ink." She told him. Sighing, I began to write my ridiculously long sentence on the parchment. After a moment, I felt a sharp pain in my left hand. I looked at it, only to see the sentence I had just wrote, carved into my skin. Blood soon covered the top of my hand. I knew what this was. A Blood Quill.

Basically, they use the blood of whoever's using it as ink. How sick is that? And a teacher is making us use these! She wants Harry and I to suffer while we're here, and let me just say, I'm not giving her the satisfaction. So, completely ignoring the searing pains, I began scribbling the sentence down over and over again, feeling my warm blood spilling all over my hand. It hurt so bad, but making her happy would hurt worse. Harry was grunting in pain beside me. Unfortunately, the toad heard him.

She walked around us, so she was facing us, and bent down a little. "Yes?" Harry stared at her in shock, while I glared at her. "Nothing," He finally said. She smirked, and leaned closer to us. "That's right, because deep down, you both know that you deserve to be punished. Don't you?" Neither of us replied, as she smiled triumphantly at us. I continued giving her an icy stare, when she looked directly at me.

Her eyes flickered to my bloody hand, making her smile grow wider. "Go on," Then, she walked over to her desk. Hopefully I won't bleed to death within the next few hours.

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Finally, Harry and I were dismissed. By that time, my left hand was sitting in a pool of my own blood, and the sleeve of my robes was soaked. As soon as we left Umbridge's office, Harry carefully grabbed my hand, and examined it. "I really want to kill her right now," He muttered angrily. I winced as he blew softly on my wound, although, it felt good. "I'm okay, Harry. It's just a little blood, that's all. I'm sure once I wash it off, it won't look so bad." He kissed my forehead, and sighed. "I know it's hurting you. I can see it in your eyes. I don't like seeing you hurt, because it hurts me. Come on, let's go clean ourselves up."

I nodded, and with that, we headed back to the common room together.