PRETENDING TO LIVE~ {The Lestrange Daughter #2}

𝟑𝟎. Lines

TRIGGER WARNING; Contains depictions of mild torture/gore. Not terribly graphic but please take care if you are sensitive to such things.

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Valentine walked the halls like she owned them and in some ways, one could say that she did. Students of all ages pulled their friends from her path, purposely scurrying inside rooms and around corners to avoid her. Valentine could vaguely remember a time when it had bothered her. She still felt the guilt that came with it, but she supposed it would always be there.

She was on her way to her first detention as part of her agreement.

Why do I feel like I should have just let myself be expelled?

As far as she knew, no one but she and Harry had been given detention by Umbridge and she had no idea what to expect.

When she reached the Defence Against the Dark Arts room the door was already open. As she walked through the classroom she briefly considered trashing the place but decided against it.

I'm on probation as it is.

She dragged her feet up the stairs and knocked on the office door.

"Enter." She heard Umbridge say.

Valentine pushed open the door, making sure to look as bored and uninterested as she possibly could.

Umbridge stood from her desk, moving towards her.

"Ah, Miss Lestrange. Right on time."

Valentine looked around at the alarming pink room, the walls decorated with porcelain plates painting with moving images of cats.

Okay...Maybe these are all the cats she's killed...She seems like the small animal killing type...

"Today you'll be doing some lines for me. Sit here." She gestured to a single desk and then selected a quill from her own. "You'll be using this special quill of mine."

"No ink?" Valentine arched a brow at her, taking the quill.

"You won't need any, dear." Umbridge smiled at her.

"And I presume you have something you would like me to write?"

"How about..." Umbridge came up behind her, leaning down over her shoulder. "...'I will respect my betters', hmm?"

"How many times?" Valentine asked, not willing to give her the satisfaction of getting mad.

"However many times you feel it will take you to really get the message." Umbridge cocked her head at her with a giggle.

Whatever. Bloody psycho. Can't even come up with something more imaginative than fucking lines. At least Snape's makes students clean and shit.

Valentine pressed the tip to the paper, not questioning the ink that appeared on the page. She assumed it was enchanted. Then, dragging the quill down to form the letter 'I', she felt a strange sting on the top of her other hand. She ignored it, moving on to the next word and then the rest of the sentence. She paused as realised that the words were coming out red on the parchment but then continued again to write.

By the time she had finished her first line, the pain in her hand had grown too much to ignore. She glanced over at her hand as she started the next line and watched in silence as the words carved themselves into her flesh.

You're fucking kidding me...this woman is mad! Is she planning to torture all the students or am I just special?

She was starting the third line as the words slicing through her skin came to a full stop. They matched her neatly looped handwriting perfectly.