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TWO; UNFORGIVING LINES
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     "HARRY, DID YOU hear about Camille and Malfoy? She finally dumped the slimy git in front of the Ravenclaw common room last night," Fred informed Harry at lunch, eyes glittering with excitement. "A few Ravenclaws apparently overheard the conversation. She was defending you."

Harry's eyebrows flew up. "Me? She was defending me?"

George nodded, taking a seat next to his twin. "Yeah. Malfoy said some pretty rough things about her brother, including the fact that he believes Cedric's death was an accident, and she defended your claims about how you saw You-Know-Who that night."

Hermione was equally shocked by Camille's behavior. "Really?"

Fred grinned. "And Malfoy said awful things about her father and she slapped him across the face! I wish I had been there to witness it."

"Me?" Harry repeated, pointing to himself. "She was defending me?"

"That's what I said, right?"

At that precise moment, Camille walked into the Great Hall, head held high. The whole Slytherin table was looking at her, even Malfoy, whose eyes could not trail from her figure.

She slammed her books down at the Ravenclaw table, startling other students around her. She didn't seem troubled at all by the attention she was receiving, opening the pages of her Charms book and shoving a piece of chicken into her mouth.

"She's my hero," George cooed.

The slamming of metal against wood echoed throughout the Great Hall as Malfoy threw his utensils away, stomping out of the room. Pansy was calling after him, rushing out to comfort him.

Harry examined the youngest Diggory as she continued to flip through her book, unbothered by her former boyfriend's temper tantrum. When she had finished her daily reading, she stood up and marched over to the Gryffindor table.

Harry was startled when she took a seat beside him, pushing Ron out of the way. The redhead mumbled lowly to himself.

"I heard you have detention with Umbridge today, Harry," she began. "I thought you would like to know that you won't be alone for the joyride."

"You landed detention with Umbridge?" He asked, slightly bewildered by the fact. As far as he knew, Camille had never gotten herself into any sort of trouble. She was the resident angel in Ravenclaw, while her brother was the resident hero in Hufflepuff.

"Afraid so. I take back everything I yelled at you for — Umbridge is so damn ignorant that I almost pulled my own hair out during Defense. Cedric would have wanted you to stand up to her in the way that you did, and I thank you for defending him."

"Oh," Harry muttered, cheeks flushing red. "It's no problem."

Malfoy reappeared in the doorway of the Great Hall, staring down Camille and Harry like he was shooting lasers out of his eyes.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," she spoke in an irritated tone, standing up. "I have to go deal with an ignorant pest who won't leave me alone."

As her figure walked away from the table, Fred sighed and rested his cheek on the palm of his hand.

"That's my dream girl."

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Malfoy and Camille were arguing outside of Umbridge's office when Harry arrived. He felt awkward being in the presence of their conversation, but he couldn't avoid his detention.

"Cami, I already apologized for what happened!" Malfoy whispered loudly. "What more do you need me to say?"

"You don't need to say anything, Draco," she hissed. "You made your true feelings clear to me, and I know for a fact that you won't change. You're still going to be walking around on your father's leash, serving Voldemort just because you think-"

Harry cleared his throat. Their eyes drifted over to him, and Malfoy's jaw clenched.

"What the hell do you want, Potter?"

"He's here because we have detention together," Camille answered for him, grabbing Malfoy's arm and pushing him away. "He was defending his right to an education, while all you did was sit there and look like a fool."

Malfoy glared at her and Harry before leaving. Camille straightened her posture, regaining her composure.

"You ready?" She questioned Harry. He opened his mouth to respond but she was already knocking on the door.

"Come in," Umbridge's shrill voice filtered through the door, causing Camille to sigh.

When the two entered the room, both of their eyes widened at the sight before them. The whole room was decorated in frilly cloths and covers, appearing as if the two had stepped into a giant cupcake.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter and Miss Diggory," Umbridge greeted.

"Evening," Harry said stiffly. Camille didn't bother to reply.

"Well, sit down," the woman spoke, pointing at the two chairs in front of her lace-covered desk. There were two pieces of parchment laying before them, and Harry heard Camille let out a sigh of relief.

All they had to do was write lines.

"Er," Harry stuttered, not moving an inch. "Professor Umbridge? Er, before we start, I-I wanted to ask you a favor."

Her eyes narrowed and Camille's eyes darted to him.

Harry could practically hear what she was asking — he was trying to reason with this woman? Was he mad?

"Oh yes?"

"Well, I'm on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And I was supposed to be at the tryouts for the new Keeper at five o'clock on Friday and I was wondering whether I could skip detention that night and do it another night instead-"

"Oh no," Umbridge quickly denied. She was probably getting a kick out of the fact that Harry needed a favor from her. "Oh no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr. Potter, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one's convenience. No, you will come here at five o'clock tomorrow, and the next day, and on Friday too, and you will do your detentions as planned. You don't see Miss Diggory making any objections for her own schedule. I think it rather a good thing that you are missing something you really want to do. It ought to reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach you."

Harry could feel the fury rush through his bones and he dropped his bag down, taking a seat on the chair across from her. Camille followed him, sensing his anger and Umbridge's happiness at his sadness.

"There," Umbridge spoke in her shrill voice. "We're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you both are going to be doing some lines for me."

Harry and Camille reached down to grab their quills out of their bags, but Umbridge stopped them.

"No, not with your quill. You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."

She handed them a pair of long, black quills with a sharp point.

"I want you to write 'I must not tell lies,' " she told Harry. She turned to face Camille, giving her a sickly sweet smile. "And for you, Miss Diggory, I'd like you to write 'I will respect my elders.' Seems like you need a lesson in that department, yes?"

Camille clenched her fists. "How many times?" Harry asked.

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in," Umbridge responded. "Off you go."

"We don't have ink," Camille spoke through clenched teeth. Harry could tell she was on the verge of starting a duel in the middle of Umbridge's office.

"Oh, you won't need ink."

They both began writing their lines on the parchment. He let out a gasp of pain, and he heard Camille hiss. The words they were writing was written in the ink of their blood, and Harry could feel the words cut through his right hand. He looked up at Umbridge, who was already smiling at him.

"Yes?"

"Nothing," Harry replied quietly.

Camille wasn't so forgiving. "You're a cruel woman," she spat, hand tightening around the quill. "I hope I get the front row seat to witness your demise."

Umbridge narrowed her eyes once more. "Back to your lines, now, Miss Diggory. I'm sure you wouldn't enjoy it if I gave you more."

The Ravenclaw glared at her one more time before turning back to her paper. She and Harry wrote until darkness fell outside Umbridge's window. Harry could tell they were both wondering when the torture would end, and finally, after what seemed like hours, she called them forward.

"Come here," she said. The two stepped forward, and Harry glanced at his hand, where the cuts were healed, but the skin was left red and raw.

"Hand," she commanded.

They extended their hands forward. "Tut, tut, I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet," she said, smiling. "Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go."

Camille quickly grabbed her bag, storming out of the room. Harry followed after her, calling her name with urgency.

"What?" She questioned, turning back around to face him.

He was panting, surprised at how fast the girl moved. "We can't say anything. We can't give her the benefit of the doubt," he exhaled.

She laughed humorlessly. "Harry, you cannot be serious. We're children! She's using a method of torture against us, which I'm sure will not go over well with McGonagall or Dumbledore. We could end her career."

"No," Harry denied with a shake of his head. "We can't. She works for the Ministry, Camille, and-"

She stepped forward, and Harry had never been so intimidated by one person before. "My father works for the Ministry, Harry! Surely, you're not suggesting that we allow this to continue?" She scoffed.

"Look, you saw her in that horribly decorated room today. She was thriving from our pain and enjoyed it whenever you lashed out at her. Do you really want to keep seeing her happiness from our torture?" He asked, and she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Camille, we have to show no emotion. Don't tell her that this is affecting us."

"Fine," she gave in. "I'm sure I can manage keeping myself together. I've been doing it since I arrived at Hogwarts this term."

His expression fell. "Camille, I'm sorry-"

"Don't," she held out her hand to stop him. "But you promise me something, Harry Potter. When you get another chance to kill Voldemort, you rip him to shreds. You ensure that there is no piece of him left to haunt my children — you bring his head back on a silver platter for me. Do you understand?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You're not afraid to say his name."

"Of course not," she huffed, chuckling. "Cedric died because of him, and I won't allow him to live. I won't allow him to continue to see this world and possess power and glory while my brother lays trapped in his own mind, wondering why he hasn't woken up so he can tell me he won the tournament."

"Camille, you should know something about that night-"

"I don't want to know," she interjected, taking a step back from him. "Tell me when I'm ready, Harry."

She began to walk away, but he called out to her again. "I'm sorry about Malfoy! I heard you broke up with him because of me."

She smiled at him. Harry thought it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

"Harry, I broke up with him because he's an ignorant, egotistical maniac who Cedric never approved of. I'm glad you're his 'mortal enemy' or whatever he likes to call it. I want to see his tears when you save the Wizarding World from turmoil."

He grinned. "Thank you, Camille, for being on my side. It means a lot to me, especially after what happened."

She nodded. "Cedric believed in you, and I'll do the same." She held up her hand. "I'll see you again tomorrow for another round of Umbridge's torture?"

He chuckled. "Can't wait."

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Harry invited Camille to sit with them at the Gryffindor table at dinner. He spent most of his lunch trying to catch up on homework, falling behind after his hand was too irritated to write anything down the previous night.

He heard that Camille and Malfoy had another spat during the middle of the day. Camille confessed that Malfoy found the state of her hand and demanded to know who was doing it to her, but she didn't budge. Harry was surprised by Malfoy's caring attitude — it was something he had never witnessed from the Slytherin before.

"Hi, Camille," Hermione greeted when she took a seat next to her. Ron, who was seated next to Harry, muttered his hellos through a mouthful of food.

"Hello," she spoke warmly. "How are you all today?"

"Harry's struggling to catch up on his homework," Hermione informed her. "I'm sure you have no problems with that, Camille, as a Ravenclaw and everything."

She laughed at Hermione's claim. "And who said that? Ravenclaws aren't always perfect, Hermione." Hermione blushed and Harry smiled at Camille's honesty. "However, I did finish my homework like Hermione claims to be a good Ravenclaw. I cannot step out of the common room unless I want a Slytherin down my throat, asking me when I'm getting back together with Draco."

"No offense, Camille," Ron spoke up. "But why did you ever date Malfoy?"

"He's a different person than what he shows to others," she shrugged. "At least, that's what I believed until a few days ago. You're always blinded by love, Ron, until it rears its ugly head."

"Well, I'm glad you got out of that relationship," Hermione hummed. "You could find someone a lot better for you, Camille."

Harry didn't miss the longing look in her eyes. He knew what she was thinking — she was wondering if she would find another man who Cedric would love, who he would become acquainted with. He could tell her mind was always spinning on ideas of her brother's decisions if he was still alive.

"Yeah, I can."

In detention that night, Camille was surprisingly quiet. She didn't greet Umbridge at the door, nor did she protest when she began her lines. They both left the room after midnight, hands throbbing with pain. Camille clutched her wrist and closed her eyes.

"She's a madwoman," she told Harry. "One day, I will seek revenge."

"You talk about revenge quite a lot," Harry mused, dwelling on the attributes of her personality rather than worrying about the pile of homework that would greet him once he returned to his room. "Is there a certain part of your brain calling to inflict harm on others?"

She grinned. "Maybe there is. I think spending too much time with Draco rubbed off on me the wrong way."

"Malfoy can do that to you."

She smiled and turned to him before she departed for the Ravenclaw common room.

"Thank you, Harry. I hate Umbridge and I hate what she's doing to us, but I'm glad I'm writing these lines with you. I think I'd be on a furious rampage already if you weren't here to keep me grounded."

"It's no problem," he shrugged off, fighting the blush that was threatening to appear on his cheeks.

"I'm still rooting for you. Make me proud, yeah?"

"I'll do my best for you, Camille."

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On Friday, Harry found Camille on the Quidditch field. Their last detention with Umbridge was set to take place that night, and Harry was eagerly awaiting its end.

The girl was staring at the field, no Quidditch game in sight. Gryffindor tryouts were scheduled during the same time as their detention, and Harry wondered if he could catch a glimpse of Ron's tryout through Umbridge's window.

"Hey," Harry greeted. He saw Camille's back stiffen before she was wiping away stray tears. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's fine," she waved off, gesturing for him to sit. "Come here. I could use some company."

He awkwardly took the seat next to her. "Did something happen?" He questioned before inwardly punching himself.

     Of course something was wrong, the girl was crying for Merlin's sake.

"Just thinking about Cedric," she laughed. "I keep saying I want to go the whole year without hearing about him, but I miss him so dearly. His friend, Anthony, approached me today. He was a beater under Cedric's leadership, and they were good friends. He told me how Cedric would be so proud of me for breaking up with Draco, and I began uncontrollably laughing and crying. He was so accurate — Cedric hated Draco so much."

"He was a good person, I have no doubts about that," Harry spoke, trying to ease her pain. "He would've loved to see you screaming at Malfoy outside of your common room."

She giggled, wiping another tear away. "He was the greatest Hufflepuff to have ever lived. I hope Hogwarts never forgets him."

He shook his head. "They won't. I wouldn't let them."

She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. Harry tensed at the contact, but relaxed after a few moments.

"I didn't realize how hard the school year would be without him," she confessed. "We barely spoke to each other when he was still here, yet I miss seeing him at that Hufflepuff table, decked in the color yellow and surrounded by his closest friends. They worshipped him when he became the champion to represent Hogwarts. Well, one of the champions."

"Sorry about that," Harry apologized. "I didn't mean to steal his spotlight."

She shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Cedric never minded, it was just our father who was slightly peeved. He was so thrilled that his son was receiving such attention, bringing so much glory to the Diggory name."

"He was a hero."

"Yeah," she agreed. "He was my hero."

"I'll do right by him, I promise, Camille."

She lifted her head and grinned. "I know you will." She stood up and sighed, taking one last look at the field. "Well, are you ready? It's the final day of torture, and it's waiting patiently for us."

"Then, I'm honored."

The two strolled to Umbridge's office together, and Harry didn't think his heart could feel so full. He didn't understand exactly how Camille could get him acting this way, for the two barely knew each other. He supposed he had to thank Umbridge for at least one good deed.

Two pieces of parchment and their quills were laid out for them. Camille gave Harry another reassuring nod before they sat down and began to write.

Blood was dripping down his wrist, but he tried to gaze out the window whenever he thought Umbridge wasn't looking. He wanted to see if Ron's tryout was going well but he couldn't get a good look.

Finally, when it was past midnight, Umbridge asked to see their hands. Camille's lips were pursed, and Harry could tell she was trying to hold the pain inside. He was proud of her for being so compliant to his request — to make sure Umbridge never saw that she got to them.

Umbridge's stubby fingers ran over their cuts and Camille winced slightly. She looked up at them, a sinister smile painting her lips. Harry observed as Camille's left hand clenched into a fist, and he was honestly afraid that Camille was going to punch their professor in the middle of the room.

"Yes, it hurts, doesn't it?" She said softly.

They didn't respond. They weren't going to grant her the happiness she was receiving from their pain.

"Well, I think I've made my point, Mr. Potter, Miss Diggory. You may go."

Like every night before, Camille was the first to rush out of there. However, this time, she waited for Harry to catch up to her.

He was surprised to see her beaming smile. "We did it, Harry. We're finished wasting our hours in that awfully decorated room of hers. We should get a medal."

"Yeah," he said, still feeling the mind-numbing pain in his hand. Was she not affected by the blood dripping down her arm?

"I should go and get this cleaned up," she sighed, glancing down at her hand.

"Will I see you around?" He asked timidly. "I know we were never friends before Umbridge's detention, but-"

"I'll sit with you at meals, Harry," she answered, a soft smile gracing her face. "Merlin knows I don't want to keep sitting with Ravenclaw in fear of Cho Chang's constant questioning about Cedric."

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

She chuckled. "I promise you will."

i think i'll be switching chapters from harry to camille's point of view, if you guys like that?? idk tell me your opinions about it

also, camille and harry's relationship is advancing way quicker than i planned lol