chapter twenty-seven

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Knock knock knock.

I reach out and turn the handle, the door screeching as I push it open, stepping into her office silently, my eyes following my feet along the carpet, not daring to look up at her. The scent of the pungent, flowery perfume that had diffused itself around the air filled my nostrils, making my eyes water. I manage to yank my gaze away from the floor and face her. I see her sitting, patiently at her desk, tapping her fingertips on the wooden surface with one hand and arranging a stack of parchment and forms with the other. My eyes trail across the room to meet Draco's, who was standing against the wall, looking anxious. I looked around for any sign of what my detention would be: I assumed it would be writing lines again, but there was no extra desk or torture quill to be seen. The muscles in the back of my hand relaxed instantly.

"Good evening, Miss Pearson,"

My heart physically aches when she calls me that. I try to swallow down my anger with a deep breath, but it still lingers and burns on the end of my tongue, I had to bite it to keep myself from retorting. Shifting my feet underneath me, I turn my body towards her, to seem polite, but avoid making eye contact or looking at her as much as I could. The beating of my heart was irregular and fast, making me feel sick to my stomach. I don't say anything, my mouth too dry to form any words.

"Where are your manners, girl?" She scolds, placing down her quill and rising from her chair. "I will say to you, 'Good evening Miss Pearson,' and you will reply 'Good evening Professor Umbridge.' understood?"

I nod, swallowing down a large lump of fear that had built up in my throat. I shift my feet on the carpet, picking at my fingernails.

"Good evening Miss Pearson." She repeats, with a sickening smile.

"Good evening Professor Umbridge." I whisper, timidly, just loud enough for her to hear me. My insides were curling in on themselves, the memories of this room flooding back in an all too surreal and scary feeling.

"Better." Umbridge says, smugly. She clears her throat with a tiny cough and a proud smile. I blink, the muscles in my abdomen tightening as she takes a step closer to me, as if trying to protect my stomach, which had decided to be jerking all over the place, making an unmistakable wave of nausea fall over me. I clench my jaw so tight I was sure my teeth were going to crack right there.

"Now, Miss Pearson," Umbridge says, her lips pressed firmly together, "My previous strategies to cure your compulsive lying seem to have failed repeatedly. However, there are... how shall I phrase this, bigger concerns at the moment aren't there?"

"Professor?" I question, knowing exactly what she's talking about. She wants to know about the DA. I didn't give in last time, I mustn't let that change. I'm strong enough, right?

My body, though calm and collected on the outside, was battling roaring storms on the inside. I felt as though my stomach would be snatched out of my throat and my chest would cave in on itself. I knew what she was going to do. My mouth dries up, painfully and my neck prickles as I reflect back on the last time I was in this office; squirming and writhing on the floor, being stabbed and swung at by endless waves of torment and agony.

She leans forward, so her mouth was ear level to me and whispered, "You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't you, Miss Pearson?"

My insides tremble with fear at the sound of her voice. I didn't say anything. My eyes trailing across the floor, to see Draco looking away, his jaw muscles clenched and hands balled into fists.

Throat burning with the effort of trying to form a sentence, I open my mouth, but no words came out. I don't have the energy to fight with her. I'm just going to have to accept what's going to happen. I felt as though I had only just recovered from my last detention, and now here I was, again, standing here, bracing myself for the pain I was about to be forced under.

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