˗ˋ 98

2.1K 87 20
                                    

CHAPTER NINETY-EIGHT

-: seventh year :-

── IN WHICH ELODIE
PLAYS A GAME

. . .


This already seemed like a nightmare. 

It was crazy - the woman must be certifiably insane if she thought she could teach a class of NEWT students Defense Against the Dark Arts by telling them to put their wands away and simply reading some strange textbook on Defense Magical Theory.

"This Slinkhard bloke sounds like he's on something." George wrinkled his nose as he brought the page closer to his face. The class had quickly descended into chaos upon Umbridge's opening line of them needing to sit quietly and put their wands away, and now the woman was trying to control the class.

But it was a lot harder to control the seventh years than it was the fifth - and that had been crazy, seeing as her very first class had been the one with Harry Potter in. And he didn't have the best track record with the ministry, and the Undersecretary to Minister Fudge himself knew that very well. 

"Class! Children!" Umbridge's almost shrieking voice interrupted the noise. "You must listen! You must!" When the students before her heard it, indignation grew and silence fell. 

"Children!" Fred hissed. "Well... that is how she is treating us. Bloody hell.. we're eighteen! You ready for this, Ellie?" His attention turned from where George was turning around in his seat besides Lee to the girl next to him, a smile covering her lips. 

"Of course I am." The switch into French was quick and easy for Elodie, a grin on her face as Umbridge fixated her gaze on the group of four towards the back of the room, no doubt angry at their insolence and interruption. 

Fred, George and Lee stared gormlessly at her, before the first came to his senses and correctly guessed at what she was saying, smiling as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "There we have it, our entertainment of the day." He sat up, just as Umbridge began to stalk towards their desk.

"And what are your names?" She asked, peering down at the four. Her beady eyes fixated on Fred and Elodie, before coming to settle on the gir. "Excuse me? Excuse me!"

Yet, she got no reply. 

Fred, George and Lee struggled to keep a straight face as Elodie stared straight ahead. When Fred, under the influence of Umbridge's encouragment, poked her shoulder and pointed up to the woman. 

"Oh! Er - hello." Elodie swallowed, tucking hair behind her ear and using memories reminiscent of her time whilst learning English when all she could speak was accented and broken. Of course it had been awful then, but now it was very much useful.

"What's wrong with her?" Umbridge asked, and it was then which Elodie realised that absolutely nothing that occured in Ron and Harry's class was exaggerated. It was all true. "Why is she speaking like that."

Fred watched her jaw tighten, eyes alit with mischief as he held up one finger in the direction of Umbridge before leaning towards her ear. "Just keep it up, love, you're doing great." With one hand pressed to her cheek, he placed a kiss there before leaning back.

"Ah..." Elodie nodded as though he had actually said something informative. "My name is Elodie - I am French. From Beauxbatons, yes?"

"Beauxbatons?" Umbridge repeated the only word she recognised, blinking rapidly. Around them, the class seemed to have understood what was transpiring. "You mean to tell me she can't speak a word of English?"

Fred leaned forward and pretended to say something again, and Elodie's expression hardened. "Hey! You toad face little cow of a woman!" She exclaimed, pushing herself up out of her seat. The chair scraped behind her and Umbridge took a step back. "How dare you! My English is perfect - perfect I tell you. And your class is bullshit! I refuse to sit here and listen to this!" Her finger jabbed in front of her, her height allowing her to tower over the new teach. 

"I - I - I must have order!" Umbridge stuttered, but Elodie was on a roll now. It was just lucky that Umbridge clearly didn't understand a word of French. The look of confusion on her face was priceless.

"I will not sit here and listen to you ridicule people. Werewolves are people! Cedric is dead! Slinkhard is an idiot! You look like a frog!" Elodie was trying not to laugh or smile, having way too much fun doing it. "Ah. Bitch."

And with that, she took a seat once more, Fred hiding a smirk as he leant back in his chair, swinging on the legs and propping an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. He looked up towards Umbridge.

"Apologies. Frenchmen.. or women, can be so temperamental, no?"


a/n
idk i dont feel
like writing this anymore

𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱, fred weasleyWhere stories live. Discover now