Griffin Blakes is your average teenage witch attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She is a lot of things... but sneaky is not one of them. So what is she going to tell her three best friends when she starts to fall for the enemy? An...
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{Griffin}
"I'VE NEVER had detention before." I fiddled my thumbs nervously as Harry and I approached Professor Umbridge's office. "Well, there's a first time for everything," he grumbled, raising a hand up to the door when I stopped him.
"We didn't do anything wrong, Harry. The people who don't believe you are just too scared to admit he is back," I tried reassuring my best friend. He did not meet my eyes and shrugged, "Just don't let her get to you. I have a feeling she's going to try something, and we can't give her the satisfaction of... winning."
I gave him a simple nod before he knocked on the wooden door.
"Come in," a frail voice called from inside.
The two of us reluctantly entered the room and I was overwhelmed by how pink everything was. This included the brick walls, which were lined with various assortments of plates charmed to show moving, meowing cats.
Well this takes 'crazy cat lady' to a whole new level, I thought to myself.
"Good evening, children," Umbridge said from her desk. "Won't you have a seat?"
She gestured to a miniature-sized table on her right and I noticed two pieces of paper laid out for us. "You're going to be doing some lines for me today," she explained as we sat. Harry reached inside his bag but Umbridge was quick to speak up, "No, not with your quill. You'll both be using special ones of mine."
Her voice dripped of fake kindness and I struggled with keeping myself from scowling. Meanwhile, the professor had approached the table and presented us with black-feathered quills.
"Now... I want you to write, 'I must not tell lies'."
"What?" I gritted through my teeth.
"You heard me crystal clear, Miss Blakes," she hummed innocently.
"That's total rubbish-"
"Uh, how many times?" Harry interrupted, sending me a look to stop arguing. I huffed, picking up the quill and twirling it with my fingers. "Good question, Mr. Potter. Let's just say for as long as it takes for the message to really... sink in."
"We don't have any ink," I said quietly.
"Oh, you won't need any ink."
I furrowed my eyebrows, because how on earth were we meant to write without any ink? Professor Umbridge turned her back to us, probably waiting. I bit my lip and brought the pen's fine tip down on my paper, seeing Harry do the same from the corner of my eyes. We were a few seconds into scribbling down the words when I felt a strange sting on the lower part of my forearm. Harry seemed to feel something too, wincing down at his hand.
The burning sensation became too unbearable to ignore and I let out a short gasp. There, carved onto my skin in Harry's handwriting, the phrase 'I must not tell lies.'
