Heart of Darkness

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Professor, isn't something pulling the carriages?" Harry Potter asked.
"Professor, please tell him that he's imagining things!" Hermione exclaimed, sounding worried.
That poor girl spent a lot of time worrying about Harry.
"He's not imagining things." I said casually.
"Pardon?" Hermione looked even more worried now.
"They're called thresals. You can only see them if you've come to terms with a death that you've seen." I explained.
Ron looked back and forth between us. "So..."
"Cedric Diggory, probably." I suggested.
"What about you, Professor?" Hermione asked.
"What about me?"
"Who did you see die?" Ron said.
"Oh, I've seen a lot of people die. Things have been rough, to say the least--I can't believe that you three would do that! Detention!" I said, switching my tone and words very quickly.
They all looked down, as if they were actually being berated.
"She's gone." I said as Umbridge turned the next corner.
"I can't believe she's a teacher." Hermione said angrily.
"Yes, it's not the best situation, I'll admit. You'll just have to make do, I'm afraid."
"Do dreams mean anything, Professor Black?" Harry asked suddenly.
"Sometimes." I said.
He nodded. "Oh, okay. Thank you." He said, and turned away.
Because that's not a strange occurrence. "Are you okay, Harry?" I called.
"Yes ma'am." He called over his shoulder.
"Mr. Longbottom." Snape snapped.
"Go away." I told him.
Severus glared and left.
"Hello, Angelica. How are you today?" Umbridge asked in her stupid, annoying voice.
"Hello." I gave the fake smile everybody gave her. "I'm decent, and yourself?"
"I'm lovely." She smiled, and walked away.
I want to strangle her. I want to strangle her so badly.
That evening, I sat in Albus' office with Minnie and Severus.
"I don't like it." Minerva pursed her lips.
"Neither do I." Snape scowled.
"Nor do I. Things have to be done." I said quietly.
"I don't care." Minerva said.
"Nor do I." Severus added.
"Excuse me, but am I not older than both of you?" I asked. "I'm a big girl. I can make my own decisions."
"It's dangerous." Severus said, as if I didn't already know.
"I'm aware. It's less dangerous for me than it is for you, though. You could--"
"Get out of it? No, I can't."
"You can. We can hide you like--"
"Don't say Lily and Potter."
"Like Lily and James." I finished anyways.
"You could have done something." He said, but he didn't mean their deaths. He meant about James bullying him and Lily falling in love with James anyways.
"I tried."
"Not hard enough."
"That's no reason for you to be a terrible person now."
"I feel the conversation has shifted." Albus interrupted.
"You--" Severus turned to Dumbledore. "You are cold and cruel." He said, and walked out.
"What's he talking about, Albus?" Minnie asked.
"Nothing, Minerva. Don't worry."
Snape was overemotional, so I let it slide.
Umbridge let herself in, so Minerva and I took off. We weren't going to be stuck dealing with her.

I was up late reading papers one nights when there was a light knock on the door. I'd stopped reading the papers a while ago, and was staring at a letter from Tom:
Hello, darling. How are you doing? I hope your position at the school is likable. How is Dolores doing?
Don't forget about the meeting coming up.
Love,
Tom
I looked up at the knock to see Hermione slip in.
"Professor?" She whispered.
"Hello, Hermione. What are you doing out?"
"I... have a question."
I gestured for her to ask as I slipped Tom's letter into a drawer on my desk.
She took a seat. "See, Professor Umbridge refuses to teach actual Defense Against the Dark Arts..."
"Yes, I've heard that." I sighed.
"See, well, we were thinking... What if we taught a class? Harry, Ron and myself."
I nodded slowly. "Yes. I see. That's dangerous though. If you're caught..."
"Yes, we know. We've discussed it."
"Why are you telling me?"
"It's a precautionary thing."
"I see. I can't very well stop you from doing it." I shrugged. "If you need any help whatsoever, you know where to find me."
"Thank you, Professor--And Harry was wondering if there was any way he could speak to Sirius about it? He's been dying to."
"If he wants to write a letter, he can give it to me and I'll send it. My mail doesn't get checked."
"Thank you, Professor." She said, standing.
"Of course. Thank you."
"For what?"
"For making a difference."
She smiled a bit and started out, but she came back. "Professor, is this all going to get worse?"
"I'm afraid so." I said quietly.
"She was sent as a spy, wasn't she?" Hermione asked. 'She' meaning Umbridge.
"I'm inclined to think so."
"This is preposterous."
"You're telling me."

There was nobody in the world I wanted to punch in the face more than I wanted to punch Dolores Umbridge.
Being at Hogwarts with her was like living in France in the Old Regime. We needed to get rid of this her crazy, Robespierre-ian rule. I, for one, wanted to strangle her in her sleep. Not to mention that whole anti-werewolf shit she'd dumped on everyone.
Dumbledore said no, though. So.

If there was anybody else I'd like to punch, it'd be Peter. That traitorous rat killed James and Lily and got Sirius stuck in Azkaban.
Next to him, it'd be Voldemort. He was unbearable. Calling him "lord" was getting exhausting. I hated sitting on his right side and looking across at Severus Snape, who had only realized his folly to try to protect Lily.
He had kept straight even after she died, though. I had to give him that.
I came back from one of Voldemort's meetings I'd gotten myself mixed up in to find Harry going back to the common room.
"You can't be out, Harry." I said. The last thing I needed was for him to get expelled.
"I was in detention with Umbridge."
"All right, well, get to--Harry, what's on your hand?"
"This? Oh, nothing." He shrugs and puts his hands behind his back. "Goodnight, Profess--"
"Let me see."
He grudgingly holds out a his hand where the bloody words "I must not tell lies" are carved in.
"Umbridge did this to you?" I demanded. I'd known she was evil, but I would have thought her above torturing children.
"It was a pen. She made me write with it and it carved it in."
"Oh my God."
"It's all right. McGonagall already warned me to control my temper. I won't do it again, Professor."
I sighed and released his hand. There was nothing I could do about it.
I could, of course, confront her, and Voldemort wouldn't let her fire me, I was sure, but I knew it would raise suspicion. Unfortunately, I had to act like a rational adult and acknowledge that Voldemort's defeat was more important than scars on a child's hand.
"I would heal it, but I'm afraid that would make your punishment worse." I said.
"Yes. Thank you. I'm sorry, Professor. I'll be more careful. How's Padfoot?"
"He's fine. He misses you."
Harry grinned. "I miss him too."
"You should get to bed." I advised.
"Yes ma'am."