THE ANGEL OF WOE | RON WEASLEY [BOOK THREE]

7. DETENTION

The next morning, they made their way to their first Defence against the Dark Arts lesson of the term, which for the first time in her four years of being at Hogwarts, Gene was dreading more than anything.

She watched the paper bird that Padma charmed, floating overhead until it suddenly burst into flames, somehow being very telling of Umbridge's arrival. Gene knew there was something very wrong with her, though she was doing her best to keep it hidden. But it would show eventually.

"Good morning, children!" she said enthusiastically, met with dead silence as she strode to the front of the room, her wand aimed at the blackboard as words appeared, "Ordinary Wizarding Level Examinations. More commonly known as OWLS. It is not an understatement to say your fifth-year examinations will in many respects determine your futures. Study hard and you will be rewarded! Fail to do so, and the consequences may be severe." she even smiled.

Gene and Lorelai shared a look as they simultaneously shivered. 

Umbridge sent stacks of textbooks to each row, distributing them around the class. It landed with a thud in front of Gene, and she stared at the cover in disbelief. The title of the book was 'Dark Arts Defence: Basics for Beginners' over some outdated, childish illustration.

"Your previous instruction in this subject has been disturbingly uneven. But you will be pleased to know that from now on you will be following a carefully structured, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic." Gene scoffed under her breath. Of course it did.

Gene could see Hermione from the corner of her eye, paging through the textbook, growing more alarmed with each page.

"There's nothing in here about actually using defensive spells." Hermione said as she lowered her hand.

Umbridge suddenly laughed, though it sounded false, "Using spells? I can't imagine why you would need to use spells in my classroom." Gene's eyes went wide.

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron called out, causing Umbridge to ignore him, instead calling on Hermione.

"But surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts–"

"Wizards much older and cleverer than yourself have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way–"

"What use is that?" Harry spoke now, "If we're going to be attacked it won't-"

"Students will raise their hands when they speak in my class." Umbridge interrupted him sternly, before reverting to her facade, "It is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be sufficient to get you through your examinations- which, after all, is what school is all about."

"How will theory prepare us for what's out there?" Gene asked, finding the courage to call out, even after seeing the response. Umbridge turned to her now, a twinkle in her eye almost.

"There is nothing out there, dear." she gave a silvery laugh, "Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourself?" she asked.

"I don't know. Try Voldemort?" Gene asked in disbelief, seeing the way Umbridge froze where she stood, her smile falling.

"Let me make this quite plain. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie." Umbridge said, causing Gene to see red.

"It's not a lie." Gene cut her off, "We saw him. We fought him-"

"Detention, Miss. Fiordalis!" She interrupted, and Gene's blood only boiled more.

"So according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?" Harry returned.

She turned to Harry now, taking turns to scold them, "Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident." she said.

"It was murder." Gene shot up from her seat, almost yelling as her eyes pricked with tears. "Voldemort killed him and you know it!" exclaimed.

"Enough!" Umbridge's voice overpowers Gene's instantly, causing the whole class to flinch, including herself. That was, until the glimmer of madness vanished from her eyes, composing herself, "Friday, Miss. Fiordalis and Mr. Potter. My office."

Gene scoffed, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her bag from the floor, purposefully shoving the textbook off the desk as she went to leave the classroom, wiping under her eyes when she knew no one could see her cry.

*

Gene and Harry reconvened the following Friday, sharing a wary look with one another as Gene knocked at the door. Her sickly sweet voice allowed them to enter and they did so, before freezing in their place.

The Dark Arts Office had been transformed into a nightmare in pink. Gene was almost mesmerised. Every surface visible had been draped in lacy cloth, the walls covered with enchanted ornamental plates, with kittens playing. Gene didn't mind those.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter and Miss. Fiordalis. Do you know why you are here?" she raised an eyebrow as Gene nodded.

"Pink." he murmured, causing Gene's eyes to nearly widen, "Er- yes." he spoke after a discreet nudge from Gene and brief internal struggle, "For talking back to a teacher." But of course, Harry didn't stop there.

"And telling the truth."

A smile slowly crept its way onto Umbridge's lips, sending a chill down Gene's spine.

"I'm the teacher, dear. I'll decide what the truth is." she then gestured to the desks on either side of the room, one for Gene and the other for Harry, and they took their seats. "You two are going to be doing some lines for me today." she began, but stopped them when they reached for their own, "No, not with your quill. You're going to be using a rather special one of mine."

She produced two long black quills with razor sharp points before handing one to each of them. Gene narrowed her eyes at the quill, giving it a once over warily.

"Now, I want you to write 'I must not tell lies.'" she instructed.

"How many times?" Gene asked, her tone bored, which only made Umbridge's smile widen.

"Let's say for as long as it takes for the message to sink in." she started back to her desk, when Harry voiced Gene's new concern.

"You haven't given us any ink." he said.

"Oh, you won't need ink." she returned, before rifling through some papers on her desk.

Gene turned fully in her seat, sliding the parchment closer as she held the quill between her fingers. She was wary, but she began to write, only making it past the first three words as she nearly drops the quill, gasping in pain.

The words slowly appear on the parchment in a gleaming red, and at the same time on the back of her hand, carved into her skin. It healed over after a moment, leaving a faint trace of the words on her reddened flesh and she went to touch it, finding it only barely stung.

She turned to look at Harry, finding he was already looking at her, concern in his eyes. Gene made the mistake of turning to glance at Umbridge, and it was as though she was waiting for it.

"Yes?" she asked knowingly.

Gene's jaw tensed, "Nothing." A spark of understanding dawned in Umbridge's eyes.

"That's right. Because deep down, you know you deserve to be punished. Don't you?" she glanced between them, a disturbing moment passing before she nodded for the two to continue.

Gene fought the urge to speak, instead turning back to the desk as she stared at the parchment, her blood marking it. She gripped the quill tightly in her hand, preparing herself before beginning to write again, swallowing the pain without a sound.