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iii. Dumbledore's army
I WILL NOT TELL LIES. I WILL NOT TELL LIES. I WILL NOT TELL LIES. I WILL NOT TELL LIES. I WILL NOT TELL LIES. Eulalia examined her arm, tracing her finger delicately over the scarred skin. Though she was no stranger to pain and had built up a high tolerance over the years, the searing burn of the quill's message was still overwhelming. The sensation was raw and relentless, gnawing at her resolve despite her best efforts to remain stoic.
Dolores Umbridge was, without a doubt, a witch. In the fifteen years of her life, Eulalia had encountered many witches, but none as malicious as Umbridge. The woman seemed to take a twisted pleasure in inflicting pain and leaving scars on students. Eulalia couldn't help but scoff at the thought. As she walked down the deserted corridor, her focus remained on her arm. "She's such a bloody—"
"You can't go a day without taking a dig at someone, can you?" Roman's voice came from across the hall, leaning casually against the wall. Eulalia startled, glancing up at him. She quickly pulled her sleeve down and shot him a look, but chose to walk past him without a word.
Roman grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "Seriously, don't ignore me," he insisted, turning her to face him. Eulalia yanked her arm away and scoffed.
"I'll do as I please. You of all people should know that by now, Prewett," she replied coolly.
"Oh? We're back to using last names?" Roman asked, puzzled.
"We were never on a first-name basis," Eulalia retorted, her tone sharp. Roman chuckled, as if she'd made a joke.
Roman shrugged, his laughter dying down. "Come on— it's a right laugh. You should find it funny." Eulalia shot him a weary, unimpressed look. "Guess not, then." He said, stepping back. "You can't just ignore me, you know."
Eulalia scoffed, letting out a sarcastic snort. "And why would I care?"
"Because you miss me," Roman said, running his fingers through her hair. "You miss the way I look at you," he added, trailing his fingers down her cheek, "and the way I touch you."
Eulalia shoved him away. "Get off me, Roman."
Roman grabbed her again. "Prewett—" she began loudly, but before she could say more, Theodore appeared behind Eulalia. With a swift move, Theodore grabbed Roman's wrist and pushed him back.
"If a woman tells you to stop touching her, you stop touching her," Theodore said, his normally calm but steely voice carrying an edge. Roman looked over to the boy with a scoff.
