𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼𝗰𝗸, harry potter

˗ˋ 45

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE
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-: fifth year :-

── IN WHICH SHE SNAPS

. . .

She ignored him after that. Not a word was exchanged as they entered and left each detention with Umbridge, no sarcastic remarks made in class, and no gazes meeting in the Great Hall at dinner each night. 

The second night of detentions was worse than the previous, the words 'I must not tell lies' taking longer to disappear from their hands. But by the time Aviana was woken for breakfast the next morning it was gone. On Thursday, however, it wasn't case.

The hours of the writing lines came to an end, and when Aviana looked down at her hand, the words did not fade. Instead, they remained there, oozing blood. Now that it actually cut her, and didn't remain under the skin, it would most likely scar. 

Friday's was even worse. Harry was in a horrible mood - he was missing the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts for Keeper, and Aviana was on good authority that Ron Weasley was trying out that night. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Aviana watched as he kept glancing up and out of the window. Only once did she lean forward just a little bit and managed to get a good view, but was soon dragged back to her lines just in case Umbridge looked up, her sleeve mopping up the trail of blood that was trickling down from her hand. 

He only glanced up one more time after that, but it was too late and night had fallen. They wrote their lines with no distractons after that, nothing to keep their mind off of the lines. But both were thinking of the same thing.

Aviana wouldn't have cared once, but after spending a month or so in the same house as the majority of them, she did wonder whether or not Ron had managed to make the team. He must have been trying out for Keeper, seeing as it was the only position available. Luckily, they didn't have a Quidditch pitch hidden in one of 12 Grimmauld Place's many rooms, so it gave her something else to thik about; whether he was good enough to make it.

"Let's see if you've gotten the message yet, shall we?" Umbridge's soft voice broke through the scratching of their quills. Aviana was quick to put down her's, pushing herself out of her seat. "Oh no, Miss Rosier, you can finish your sentence first."

The girl grit her teeth before sitting down again, Harry watching as her hand shook before writing the last few words, blood dripping down onto the parchment in blotches. He waited by the table until she was finished, and it was only when she managed to write out the last few words did he walk towards the desk, the pair simultaneously holding out their hands.

The girl continued to force herself not to flinch as Umbridge took their hands, twisting Aviana's to get a better view of the etched out words. But Harry had a completely different reaction. 

Suddenly he jerked his arm away, clutching it towards his stomach. Umbridge was practically beaming in victory as she saw his actions. "Yes, it hurts, doesn't it?" The toad-like woman just smiled eerily as she asked. 

Harry looked confused for a moment, and Aviana got the feeling it wasn't the cut on his hand that had caused it. He didn't say anything though, neither of them did. Umbridge looked between them. 

"Well, I think I've made my point, Miss Rosier, Mr Potter. You may go." Umbridge let go of their arms and they laid slack by their waists, neither thinking of anything but getting out of there as quickly as possible.

Despite her ignoring him for the week, Aviana didn't turn the corner like usual when they came to it, and instead followed with Harry and dragged him into the nearest bathroom. 

"What are you doing?" Harry exclaimed, eyes wide as she saw him disappear into the cubicle. "Aviana - this is a boys' bathroom."

"And we're both bleeding horrendously from our hands. Do you want to go back in front of your friends like that?" She rose an eyebrow aas she exited the stall with handfuls of toilet paper, handing some to Harry and pressing it down over his cut. 

"So you're talking to me now? It didn't really occur to you after the first detention that maybe I would like to have a conversation with someone going through the same thing?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "Thanks a lot, Aviana, really."

"Well Harry - I would love to have this discussion withh you but I can't help but think of how utterly stupid I was for thinking that it would be worth helping you and taking some of the focus off of you when it came to these detentions!" She hissed. "Excuse me if I don't want to suddenly have a conversation with you but there's nothing like bonding over shared punishment with a medieval torture device."

"Sorry that when the cut finally breaks through or skin and bleeds all over the stupid parchment that I actually think you might appreciate some help cleaning it up." Aviana wasn't finished, a whole lot of anger flooding through into her words. Avoidable, pent up anger. "Sorry that I've been spending hours of my evening with the woman who put my father in jail!"

"Aviana-" There were tears in her eyes as she wrapped toilet roll around her wrist, half of it already falling apart, damp with the blood. "Just calm down - okay?" 

"Sorry if that's a little hard for me right now." Aviana disappeared into the toilet again, pulling more paper from within and pushing it down over the wound. "You should go congratulate Ron, it's a little obvious that you'd rather have someone else help you."

And with that, she left, stuffing the toilet roll into the bin by the door as she went. 

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