Soft Whispers - Fred Weasley X Reader

[ Chapter 61 ]

(Y/n) dragged her body up the stairs towards Umbitch's office. She had found out earlier in the day that she was not the only one who had stood up to the witch. Harry walked along side her not really saying anything. Every once and again he would give out a small sigh, but stayed silent the remaining way. She knew he was already going through a lot, and didn't want to add anymore stress. 

When they approached the door, (y/n) hesitated for a second before gently knocking on it. The door opened within seconds, and professor Umbridge sat high in her seat, ushering them to go in.

"There," Umbridge said sweetly, "we're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Mr. Potter, and Miss Carter."

(Y/n) took a seat in one of the many empty desk, going into her bag to take out a quill to go along with the paper that was already present.

"No, not with your quill," she added, causing (Y/n) and Harry to look up at her. "You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are," she said handing them each a  black pointed quill . It was a long, and thin with an unusually sharp point.

"I want you to write, I must not tell lies."

"How many times?" Harry asked, with a creditable imitation of politeness.

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

She moved over to her desk, sat down and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for marking. (Y/n) raised the sharp black quill, then realizing what was missing.

"You haven't given me any ink," she said, giving Harry a look as he just slightly shrugged at her.

"Oh, you won't need ink," Professor Umbridge said, with the merest suggestion of a laugh in her voice.

(Y/n) placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote: I must not tell lies.

She let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of her own right hand, cutting into her skin as though traced there by a scalpel - yet even as she stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth.

Harry looked down at his own hand as the ink stained his skin. (Y/n) looked around at Umbridge. She was watching them, her wide, toad like mouth stretched in a smile.

"Yes?"

"Nothing," (Y/n) said quietly.

(Y/n) bit the inside of her lip as she looked back at the parchment, placed the quill on it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of her hand for a second time; once again, the words had been cut into her skin; once again, they healed over seconds later.

And on it went. Again and again (Y/n) wrote the words on the parchment in what she soon came to realize was not ink, but her own blood. And, again and again, the words were cut into the back of her hand, healed, and reappeared the next time she set quill to parchment.

Darkness fell outside Umbridge's window. Harry did not ask when he would be allowed to stop. He did not even check his watch. He knew she was watching him for signs of weakness and he was not going to show any, not even if he had to sit there all night, cutting open his own hand with this quill. He would occasionally look over at (y/n), and see the tears form in her eyes.

She above anyone did not deserve the pain that was being placed on her.

"Come here," Umbridge said, after what seemed like hours.