The Krum Girl (Harry Potter FanFiction)

Fifteen year old witch, Isadora Lolita Krum, the Quidditch star's, Viktor Krum's, sister. He favours her, and would do anything for her, as she would him. But a certain trip to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry leaves her worried, and fretting for her brother. Many have died in the TriWizard Tournament, and she fears he will die, though she'd never doubt his strength. Throughout her time at Hogwarts, she finds friendship and a love she thought she'd never find. Then there's her brother, annoyed that another man dare look at his sister, he tries to stop them from seeing each other, and secrets of Isadora's manage to slip out.

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13. Chapter 13

Ron, Harry, Hermione and I sit together in DADA, with -sadly- Umbridge. As she walks in the room, she flicks her wand and a piece of chalk begins to write on the blackboard, 'Defense Against the Dark Arts. Return to Basic Principles' "Wands away, books out!" she snaps impatiently, stopping at the front of the room, next to the blackboard. Harry, Ron and I give each other depressed looks, while Hermione pulls our books out for us.

"Well, good morning class" Umbridge says in her girly voice. "Good morning" Hermione and Dean reply. "Well, that won't do. Let's try again. Good morning class" she barks. "Good morning, Professor" we all chorus, well, except for me. "Much better. I've been going over your history and it seems your class has been disrupted and fragmented. With the changing of teachers every year, you are far below the Ministry-standards. As you all know, I'm sure, your O.W.L.'s are this year. They determine your future. I strongly suggest you take them seriously. I'd like you to open your book to page 5: 'Basic for Beginners.' There will be no need for talk."

She sits down at her desk at the front of the room, everyone opens their books, except for Hermione and I, who both raise our hands once looking at the contents page.. "Yes, miss.." Umbridge asks, looking to Hermione. "Granger. Professor, I have a query about your course aims?" "A query? I think that will be perfectly clear once you read through carefully" Umbridge says. "But there's nothing here about using defensive spells!" I exclaim. "Who might you be?" she asks. "Isadora Black" I answer. "Miss Black, why would you need to learn how to use defensive spell? Are you expecting to be attacked in my classroom?"

"Wait, so we won't be learning magic?" Ron butts in. "Students will raises their hands if they wish to speak in my class!" Umbridge says testily. Ron ducks down sheepishly and Hermione raises her hand again, while I just glare at Umbridge. "Yes, Ms. Granger?" "But, surely the point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to.. defend ourselves against the dark arts?" Hermione asks, wide eyes.

"Well, Miss Granger, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'point' of any class is. You will be learning defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-" she begins, but is cut off by Harry, "What's the point of that?" he asks. Umbridge's eyes burn down on Harry, though Harry doesn't shy away like Ron did.

"Mr Potter! Did I not just say raise your hand if you wish to speak? As I was saying, It's not my place to criticize this way this school is run.. yet. But in the past there have been very irresponsible wizards giving you instructions in this class. I assure you that all ends today. As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why any of you should not be able to perform the spells under a controlled examination" Umbridge says.

"Without ever practicing them?" Hermione asks, raising her hand. "I repeat, as long as you've studied the theory!" Umbridge exclaimed. "How does that help us in the real world?!" Harry and I ask at the same time, not raising our hands. "What did I say about your hand, Mr Potter? You too Miss Black! This is school, not the real world. Who are you expecting to jump out of the bushes and attack you?"

"Oh, gee, let us take a wild guess on that one?" Harry asked, looking to me then back to Umbridge, "how about Voldemort!" we exclaim together. The entire class shutters as if Harry has just shouted the most offensive curse word known to mankind, some girls scream quietly, Neville almost falls off his chair, and everyone's eyes are wide except for mine and Harry's. Umbridge stands and glares down at us, as we glare right back. If only I could shoot daggers out of my eyes for real..

"Ten points, Mr Potter, for you too Miss Black. Now let me makes this very clear: You have been told a certain Dark wizard has return from the dead-" she began, but I cut her off, "he wasn't dead to begin with!" I snapped. "If you haven't noticed, I kind'a carry around a permanent reminder of that!" Harry added in. "Mr Potter, Miss Black! Let me repeat. You've been told of the return of a certain Dark wizard. Let me assure you, this is a lie!" she almost shouted.

"No, it's not! I saw him come back, I fought him!" Harry barked. "I also saw him come back! It was horrifying! He even tried to kill me! Blimey woman, you're absolutely clueless!" I shouted. "Detention, Mr Potter! Once again, this is a lie. Oh, and Miss Black, detention for a week!" Umbridge sort of yelled. "So, Cedric Diggory just drop dead on his own then, huh?" I asked her, standing, as did Harry. "Come here, Mr Potter, Miss Black" she demanded

Harry literally stomps right up to Umbridge's desk, and when he stops, there is no regret in his stance. He looks defiantly as Umbridge writes down something and hands it to him, in which he snatches the note. I walk up politely, smiling down at her, as she is sitting down again. "Get out of my classroom Mr Potter, Miss Black, stay" she sneered. I watched as Harry left the room, and then to Umbridge as she wrote down a long note. "Miss Black, stay" I imitated her. "I'm not a dog!" I snapped.

"Not what I've heard, filthy half-breed" she scowled at the paper then handed it to me. "I'm not a half-breed! I wasn't bred! I was bitten by a werewolf when they were in their werewolf form!" I shouted, showing my bite mark to her. "Oh, well then, you're not a half-breed, though, are you confirmed with the Ministry?" she asked quietly. "Yes, I am" I answered politely. "Very well, go sit down and read Miss Black" she ordered. I did that, though, I didn't read, I only sat. After half an hour, she finally had enough of it. "Miss Black! Why aren't you reading?!" she asked. "Because you didn't tell me what to read" I said nonchalantly. Hermione flipped through my pages, earning a small glare from me before I went on to read.

After that, I ended up arguing with Umbridge three times, over petty little things, but mainly Voldemort's return. Classes went by pretty fast, as did time, and soon it was time for mine and Harry's detention with the pink toad.

As we walk down the hallways, every student watches us and talks in unhushed whispers to the person next to them. "He says he fought You-Know-Who." Who does he think he's kidding?" "She's just as bad, and his little girlfriend." "He just wants attention, famous Harry Potter." "What if they're telling the truth?" the last one made me smile, so I looked at them and said, "we are." I literally growled when they all broke out in 'yeah right' and 'liars'. "Come off it!" I growled, flipping the bird at them, then following Harry into Umbridge's office.

Her eyes flicker up as we enter, and I look around the room. Plastered all over the sickly pink brick walls are plates with cats on them. Moving cats, that keep meowing. "Sit down" she ordered in a calm and girly voice. Harry sits at one desk, and I sit at another. There's a parchment and a red quill in front of us each.

"Professor?" Harry asked. "What?" "I was wondering. You see, I'm on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and tonight there are try outs for a new Keeper.. I was wondering if I could skip tonight's detention and make it up with two more.. or something." "Oh, no no no no no. Now, you will take your quill and write, 'I must not tell lies.' You too Miss Black" she replied.

I examine my quill closely, then realise it's not an ordinary quill. A blood quill. It's a dark magical object of torture that is a type of quill that does not require ink, as it writes with the blood of the person using it. What the user writes will be carved onto the back of their hand, and the blood from the words sliced into the hand will be magically siphoned and be used as ink on the parchment. The wound on the back of the hand will then heal, slightly redder than before, and then open up when the user writes again. Continuous use of it will eventually scar the back of the hand.

"You didn't give me any ink" Harry stated. I looked up at Harry with a horrified expression, "Harry.." I whispered. "You won't need any" Umbridge said calmly.

Harry raised an eyebrow, but shrugged and began to write on the black piece of parchment. Just as he finishes the first line he winced and turned over his hand. On the back of his hand the words, 'I must not tell lies' cut open on the back of his hand in his own handwriting. Slowly the open cut heals itself up, leaving his skin very red. Harry looks back at me, noticing I've already written five lines and was watching him. I give him a sad look then whisper the words, "write fast, not slow. It helps" so Umbridge won't hear.

Harry looked up at Umbridge, shocked, but Umbridge isn't paying attention. He defiantly looks down and begins to write again, wincing often, and not writing fast like I told him to. I sighed lightly, and went back to writing. 'I must not tell lies, I must not tell lies, I must not tell lies, I must not tell lies' over and over again, as fast as I could. That woman sickens me, making em write with my own blood. After a painful few hours, the toad speaks, "come here." We immediately obey. "Hands" she says. She starts with Harry, then goes to mine.

"Tut, tut, I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet. Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go." We took no time in leaving that horrid woman's office. "What a pink toad.." I growled. "What did you say before? I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked. "I said to write fast, not slow. It helps. I'm familiar with blood quills, it's a punishment at Durmstrang, for when you get in a lot of trouble, yet aren't to be expelled. I tried to warn you. It sickens me that she made us write with our own blood!" I growled as we came to a stop at the portrait hole.

"Wattlebird" we chorused, and entered when the portrait swung open, allowing us entry. Hermione sitting on the couch by the fire, obviously waiting for us. "Finally!" she exclaimed. "So, what did she have you two do?" Hermione asked curiously. "Write lines" Harry began, sitting next to her. "With blood quills!" I exclaimed, showing her our bleeding hands. "Oh my, hang on!" she said, then went through her bag, taking out a bowl, some sort of liquid and a cloth.

She pours the liquid into the bowl, then begins to wipe it over Harry's hand, then mine, cleaning it of all blood and sort of healing it. "Thanks 'Mione" I say, Harry and I looking at her gratefully.

"That wicked woman. You should go straight to McGonagall with this" Hermione suggest. "No, I'm not gonna let her win" Harry says, a determined look on his face. "Harry.." I whisper, shaking my head slowly. "Then tell Dumbledore, I know he wouldn't stand for this" Hermione protested. "No. Dumbledore.." Harry began, but stopped when Ron entered the room with a broom in hand.

"Where've you been?" asked Hermione. "No where" was Ron's idiotic reply. "What are you doing with a broom?" asked Harry. "Ah.. it's mine. Mum got it for me, for making prefect" Ron explained. "Ron, did you try out for the team?" Harry asked sternly. "Maybe" Ron muttered. "Well, how did'ya do?" Harry asked, and Ron seemed surprised by Harry's positive attitude. "Well, I think I did rather good, actually" Ron said. "Are you trying for Keeper?" "Yeah. What do you think?" "Brilliant, Ron!" "Really? I mean, you're not mad? Oh, and Isa, they're allowing you to try out for Chaser tomorrow, half an hour before your detention." "Mad, no, why? That'd be great if we were both on the team." Ron sat down in between Harry and Hermione. "Good. I thought you'd be angry.

"Why?" Harry asked. Ron looked to Hermione and I. "Well, Harry, don't take this the wrong way, but.." Hermione trailed off, looking afraid to say it, so I did for her. "Ever since you got back, you've been acting like a sourpuss!" I exclaimed.

"No, I haven't!" he snapped. "You see, every time you get mad you bite our heads off. Remember, we're on your side" said Hermione, almost whimpering. Harry looks like he's about to argue, but stops. "I'm sorry.. It's just.. with everything and all.." he says calmly.

"Hey, we understand, Mate. Can't be easy being the most loved, hated, and envied fifteen year old in the world" Ron said. Ron then looked down to mine and Harry's hand beside each other, actually, touching. Now that I think about it, it's sending a slight tingle up my arm, which is weird. Very weird. "Why did you write 'I must not tell lies' on the back of your hand?" Ron asked.

"The pink toad! She made us write lines with blood quills!" I exclaimed sadly, gently touching my scar. "What's a blood quill?" he asked, still clueless. "It's a dark magical object of torture that is a type of quill that does not require ink, as it writes with the blood of the person using it. What the user writes will be carved onto the back of their hand, and the blood from the words sliced into the hand will be magically siphoned and be used as ink on the parchment. The wound on the back of the hand will then heal, slightly redder than before, and then open up when the user writes again. Continuous use of it will eventually scar the back of the hand" Hermione explained, though he still looked dumbfounded.

"Meaning, that when you write with a blood quill, you're writing with your own blood, and what ever you write is also etched into the back of your hand and will scar if used too much" I said, dumbing it down a little. His face went from dumbfounded, to shock, to weirded out, to depressed, to angry. "How dare she!" he exclaimed. "Ron, calm it. Harry and I aren't going to tell anyone. Neither are you two. It remains a secret" I said sternly, looking him in the eyes, and then at Hermione.

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