▬▬ five; the detention.
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ALBUS DUMBLEDORE ALWAYS EMBRACED THE MORNING EARLY. Before anyone else woke up he could let his mind travel far without any sound interrupting, and he always had a lot to think about. This morning, the phoenix bird flew through the window and landed eagerly on the staircase's fence.

"What have you found for me?" The man chuckled and happily took the letter out of its mouth, whispering a 'thank you' before it closed its eyes to sleep. Dumbledore placed the cup of tea down on his desk and sat down in the chair before he began opening the envelope.

To Albus Dumbledore,

I hope I'm not interrupting anything important, we all know how busy a day at Hogwarts can be! I'm letting you know that I will arrive at the school within a few days, we must talk. But I am afraid that I won't give away any spoilers, just in case someone else gets their hands on this letter before you.

Sincerely
Lauren

His lips curled into a faint smile as he placed the letter down and re-attached the white mug to his lips, taking a sip of the warm water. He was satisfied that she didn't seem to be going the wrong way after all.

—

Inside the office of the Defense Against Dark Arts classroom, Professor Umbridge poured sugar into her tea and took a light sip. The walls were painted light-pink and hand sewed dark pink curtains. Almost covering the walls were moving photographs of her very many cats. She looked up when she heard someone knock on her door. She waited a few seconds, letting the sweat hot water sink in before she lightly said, "come in. Good evening, Mr. Potter."

He nodded to the woman he so quickly had started to dislike. She gave him a wide grin and pointed to a chair by a small round table, "Sit." Harry did so but couldn't help but frown at the 'grandmother's' room in all pink. "You're going to be doing some lines for me today, Mr. Potter.No, not with your quill," she said as he reached into his bag. 

"You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Now. . . I want you to write, 'I must not tell lies.'"

She started pace towards him, standing by the window behind him while he picked up the feather-pencil she had placed on the paper on the table. 

"How many times?" He asked, letting a quiet sigh slip past.

"Well, let's say for as long as it takes for the message to sink in," she said and he could even hear the smile on her lips. 

"You haven't given me any ink."

"Oh, you won't need any ink." Not only did her presence make him uncomfortable, but the way she just smiled and giggled so high-pitch at everything made him almost shiver.

He sighed heavier this time, wanting the old lady to understand his frustration, but then he began writing the line. It slowly began burning in his left hand, the one he wasn't writing with, and the stinging feeling just increased with every word.

He began groaning and stared at the top of his left hand that was aching and started to fade red. His pale skin slowly started to tear, as if a  knife was carving into it, and it burned but he bit his lip not wanting to give in. 'I must not tell tiles' appeared on his hand, written by itself but it felt like someone had written it with a broken piece of glass. Blood began tripling from the letters and he looked up at the pink dressed lady beside him.

"Yes?" She asked tilting her head slightly, not looking at his bleeding scar. 

"Nothing," he just mumbled, quickly looking away from her eyes. Now he was sure, he hated her.

"That's right. Because you know, deep down. . . you deserve to be punished. Don't you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry didn't answer, he just gulped silently and dropped the pencil back on the table. 

"Go on," she said pointing towards the door and he didn't spare a second. He closed it behind him and rushed out of the classroom, staring down at the words that had magically been written in his skin instead of the paper.

—

By dusk the next day, she walked through the empty corridors in a hurry, focusing on the floor beneath her feet and not every memory surrounding her. When she noticed how his voice still echoed between the walls and his scent still lingered in the sir she ran to the Headmaster's office. Lauren eased her breathing and reminded herself that Cedric wasn't here and that this castle was home, not a graveyard.

She placed a soft knock on the thick door, doubting if it was heard from the inside—but the door slowly opened itself and a warm smile greeted her from across the room. Professor Dumbledore sat by his desk and took off his glasses when he noticed her arrival.

"Welcome, welcome dear Lauren!"

"I suppose you got my letter, Professor?" She smiled and sat down opposite the dark wood table in the leather chair that made her feel even smaller than she was.

He nodded, "Indeed, now tell me what's this all about?"

"This photo I showed you of Stella Beauchêne. . . there was another woman beside her, a little older. Do you know who that was?"

Dumbledore tilted his head in a thinking manner but then shook his head, "I suppose it was just a friend. Stella had no family, as far as I know." Something whispered to Lauren that he was holding something back like he wanted to add to his sentence but she just figured to let it go. Dumbledore was just as stubborn as herself, if not more.

"Well, it must've been a dream but it felt so real, she came to visit me after Harry and the others left. She said you had visited her and she wanted me to go home, and know the truth." The man in front of her stared so deeply into her eyes when she explained that she almost grew scared there was something wrong inside her eyes—like he was desperately trying to figure out what was behind them.

"Lauren, maybe this woman was referring to something too obvious for you to understand, or perhaps something you don't want to understand," he said, not letting go of their eye contact but leaned back into his big chair.

"You mean. . ." Lauren thought for a second, "like something inside my head. . . waking me up," she sighed. "You're right, I need to accept the truth."

"Losing someone you love is never something that we are forced to accept, Lauren. But we have to learn how to grieve someone without letting it affect us in a bad way."

"It's just. . . I really found it strange that it was the woman from the picture, next to Stella. And about Stella, she's everywhere, she's in my dreams more and more often now," Lauren sighed.

Dumbledore shrugged, "maybe these two women really seek your attention. So keep your eyes open, they might have something important to tell you?"

The girl sat dumbfounded while he moved over the shelf-covered wall and pulled out the letter he had shown her last year, along with a photograph. He sat back down and handed it to Lauren, she just glanced quickly at the words because she already knew them. But the picture caught her eye.

"Stella Beauchêne," she sighed and shook her head, "I believe you know more about her then you tell me, Dumbledore."

"She's french, had a great sense of sarcasm against everything but she was able to bring out some light when things were at its darkest," he explained with a saddened smile. 

"Again, why do I see her everywhere I look? What does your friend want with me?" She asked, trying to be as polite as possibly due she could see the sorrow in his eyes when they spoke about this woman. When he just shrugged as an answer Lauren tilted her head, "Forgive me for asking, but were the two of you lovers?"

He shook his head, "she was like the daughter I never had."

After half an hour of just small chatting, dropping the serious manners for a bit, Lauren decided it was time to leave. She stood up and walked to the door when he called her to stop, he rose from his chair.

"Lauren, the doors will always be open to you. I cannot protect you if you chose to wander away," he said.

"I don't need protection, Professor."

"You are truly missed by not only your friends, Lauren. Don't waste a true friendship away while longing for what you simply can't get back."

She held back a tear, many tears, she wanted to show her strongest side. She straightened her back but then actually took his words into her already filled head, "I'll think about it. Thank you; Dumbledore."

She left him behind and walked down the stairs but didn't find herself in a hurry when she walked through the empty halls. Instead of being scared of walking there, she began to adjust. After all, this was more home than her house had ever been. She felt the stone in her stomach when she thought about how Cedric would never wander these halls again, he'd never be here again, but she had to force herself to start seeing a bright side.

She couldn't. No light, nothing, but she still really hoped something positive would soon come out of all this.

And then, there he was. Walking out from the corner he kept close to the wall, keeping his eyes locked with the floor. Even though he was a bit taller now his hair remained white like snow. When he heard how the footsteps in front of him halt he did as well, looking up and his eyes widened.

While she stood like a tree, barely breathing and feeling slightly ashamed to be there he was in shock. But then, he walked up towards her with a wide smile but a slight flash of concern in his silver-blue eyes.

"Lauren," he breathed like he was assuring himself she really was there.

"Oh, Draco," she sighed feeling like an arrogant human being for completely ignoring him for so months, "I'm so sorry I haven't read your letters, I just. . . I don't know. . ."

"Stop, it's alright. For God's sake, Lauren, I'm just glad to see you on your feet," he interrupted her rambling. "How are you? What are you doing here?"

They stood silently a few feet away from each other, an awkward tension between them when Lauren couldn't find her answers. Instead, she allowed a tear to roll down her cheek as she ran into his arms catching him off guard.

Even though he was confused about her sudden action, he wouldn't complain. He quickly caught on and wrapped his arms around the short girl that was quietly sobbing into his chest. He strokes her brown curls and rested his head on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said into his black robe, "I just, I missed you. I don't really know what to do."

"I missed you too, Laurie." She smiled at the very old nicknames he had made for her, he hadn't said it since they were thirteen because she didn't like it, but now she allowed it. "Come on, I know where to go."

▬▬ author's note ▬▬

the gif doesn't make much sense, but it's so calming!! also, a bit shorter chapter today but it's two days early, that's generous of me. also, I'm tired and a bit sick (stomachache) and I'm tired so sorry if the grammar is a mess.

i love y'all, hope ur staying safe.
stay tuned, thank you! <3