Diggory Is Still A Loser (book 2)

8- Half An Apology

Since Celia realised that she didn't really have another choice, she wrote out an apology, which she planned to give to Umbridge the following day.
After memorising her speech, she headed to Defense Against the Dark Arts the following morning.
She stood beside Umbridge's desk, while the rest of her classmates stared back at her, making her feel uncomfortable.
"Well dear, do you have something that you would like to say to me, regarding your behaviour yesterday?" Questioned Umbridge sweetly.

Celia sighed and nodded her head, "I'm sorry for disrupting the class, and shouting while you were trying to teach the lesson".
"Anything else?" Asked Umbridge.
"And I'm sorry for speaking about my brother's death, in such a way, when I don't know what happened since I wasn't there" replied Celia through gritted teeth.
"So, you admit that the things you said yesterday were all lies?" Quizzed Umbridge.
Celia knew that Umbridge wanted her to condem Harry, and she was aware that she wouldn't be able to rejoin the class, until she had admitted that Voldemort's return was a lie.
"It is true that there is no real evidence to support Harry's claims, and his version of events" lied Celia, who didn't want to make Harry's life harder, just to save herself.

"Good. I'm glad that we are all now on the same page. I didn't punish you for your actions yesterday, as it is clear you are still grieving for your brother. His sad death has clearly left you very unstable. And you seem to want to seek out attention, in order to fill the hole in your heart. But spreading nasty rumours is not the way to heal your troubled mind. I indulged you yesterday, because I know you are not right in the head right now, but I will not do so again" Umbridge said.
Her condescending tone of voice, made Celia want to punch her in the face.
"I don't seek out attention. If you ask anyone in my year, they'll tell you how much I hate being the centre of attention, and having people look at me" admitted Celia.
"This is clearly a lie, as you seem to like causing a scene. Like you are doing right now" replied Umbridge.

"I am simply trying to correct you, so that you don't give out false information, since I know how much you hate lies. And just because there is no evidence to support Harry yet, doesn't mean there won't be in the future. Because Voldemort won't stay quiet forever. And I fully believe that Harry is right about his return" said Celia quietly, so that only Umbridge could hear, as she hoped this would stop the teacher from calling her an attention seeker again.
"So, you still believe the lies told by Mr Potter and Albus Dumbledore?" Frowned Umbridge.
"Yes. And there is nothing you can do to change my point of view. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion" reminded Celia.

"I may not be able to make you see the truth, but I can still stop you from spreading nasty rumours and lies. Take a seat at the back of the class, I will deal with you in a minute" instructed Umbridge.
Rather reluctantly, Celia headed past her classmates and took the empty desk at the back of the room.
She then waited for Umbridge to give her class instructions.
Once Umbridge had told everyone to read the second chapter in the book, she made her way over to Celia.
"Since you refuse to follow my rules, I am going to have to punish you. However, my evenings are very busy at the moment, as I'm spending them with your good friend Mr Potter" admitted Umbridge.

The teacher removed a strange quill from her pocket and placed it in front of Celia.
"Instead of taking part in my lessons, I want you to write lines for me, from now on. Until you can show me, that you've changed your mind about what you believe in. You will have to read the textbook, and learn this subject, in your own time" continued Umbridge.
"That's fine with me" mumbled Celia.
"If you make any noise, or attempt to disrupt my class for the rest of the lesson, you will regret it" warned Umbridge.
"Will I?"
"Yes. I can make you stand for the whole lesson if you like, in front of everyone, with a silencing charm on you, if you like?"
"No thank you".

"Good. Now, my special quill does not require ink, all you have to do is start writing" informed Umbridge.
"O.K" sighed Celia.
"I want you to write, I must not tell lies" instructed Umbridge.
"How many times?"
"Let's say 100"
"Is that all?"
"Yes. I think you'll find that my quill is a little harder to write with than normal ones. So it may take you all lesson to write 100 lines"
"Alright"
"And remember, I don't want one word out of you while you're doing this"
"I won't say anything".

Umbridge smiled and headed back to her own desk at the front of the room, which was directly in front of Celia.
With no other choice, Celia began writing out her first line on some parchment.
The second she did, she felt a strange pain on her left hand.
She ignored it at first, but as she looked closer at the second line she had just finished writing, she noticed that the ink was red.
Celia frowned and looked at her left hand, which was feeling very sore.
She gasped when she saw the words I must not tell lies, etched into the back of her hand.
This is when she realised that she was writing lines in her own blood.

Shocked by the disturbing way in which she was being punished, Celia looked up at Umbridge, who was smiling sweetly, back at her.
She knew that if she spoke up, Umbridge was going to punish her further. So she had to keep quiet, and not allow Umbridge to beat her.
Celia looked at the backs of her classmates, all of which were bent over their own desks, reading the textbook.
No one looked back at her, to make sure that she was alright. And Celia realised that this was the problem with having all her friends in different years to her.

Since there was nothing else she could do, Celia placed the evil quill back onto the parchment and continued writing, even though she knew it was cutting into her own skin.
She had 100 lines to get through, and she knew that she would not be allowed to leave the room, until she had completed her task.
Tears began to fall from Celia's eyes, landing on the parchment, as she continuously sliced into the back of her left hand.
She wished that someone would save her from the torture, but no one came to her aid.
And by the end of the lesson, her whole hand was red, and the scratch marks hadn't faded, leaving the awful words etched onto her skin, I must not tell lies.