ALULA (VOL. 3)
Time to put things into perspective- into order.
When a war has begun there's no waiting for children to group up. Alula Nova Black knows this too well. The last thing needed is a government who are corrupt in thinking everything is o...
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alchemy
{1995}
The Great Hall
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Alula was exhausted. She had not written a single dream in her dream diary and had not finished the drawing of the Bowtruckle, nor had she written his essays (which was quite unusual of Alula). She skipped breakfast the next morning to scribble down a couple of made-up dreams for Divination, their first lesson.
'How come you didn't do it last night?' Harry asked as Ron stared wildly at Alula for having not done the work.
"I didn't have time." She said, slamming the diary shut. 'That'll have to do, I've said I dreamed I was buying a new pair of shoes, she can't make anything weird out of that, can she?'
They hurried off to North Tower together.
'How was detention with Umbridge, anyway? What did she make you do?' Harry asked.
Alula hesitated for a fraction of a second, then said, 'Lines.'
"That's not too bad, then, eh?" said Ron.
'Nope,' said Alula.
'Hey - I forgot - did she let you off?' Harry remembered.
"Yeah," said Alula.
"Lucky," Ron said.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
It was another bad day for Alula; she was one of the worst in Transfiguration, even though she knew exactly how to do everything and had done it before. She had to give up her lunch hour to complete the picture of the Bowtruckle and, meanwhile, Professors McGonagall, Grubbly-Plank and Sinistra gave them yet more homework, which she had no prospect of finishing that evening because of her Alchemy session with Snape.
'I'm in detention!' Harry yelled after Angelina as she stalked away. 'D'you think I'd rather be stuck in a room with that old toad or playing Quidditch?'
'At least it's only lines,' said Hermione consolingly, as Harry sank back on to his bench and looked down at his steak and kidney pie, which he no longer fancied very much. 'It's not as if it's a dreadful punishment, really . . .'
Alula opened her mouth, closed it again and nodded. She was not really sure why she was not telling Harry, Ron and Hermione exactly what was happening in Umbridge's room: she only knew that she did not want to see their looks of horror; that would make the whole thing seem worse and therefore more difficult to face. She also felt dimly that this was between herself and Umbridge, a private battle of wills, and she was not going to give her the satisfaction of hearing that she had complained about it. Maybe she should warn Harry, she thought.
