Shadows and broken Souls

Chapter 4 - Detention

Harry was currently sulking in the Griffindor common room. He had detention with Umbridge in less than an hour and he was most definitely not looking forward to it. Ron and Hermione were trying to cheer him up. "It won't be that bad mate...she'll probably just want you to polish her cat plates or something." He offered. Harry appreciated Ron trying to cheer him up but it wasn't working.  "Thanks Ron...hopefully it is just that..." he sighed. When the clock chimed he reluctantly got up and trudged off to his detention. Ron and Hermione promised they'd play exploding snap after to make up for it.

Harry took a deep breath to calm his nerves and entered Umbridge's office. He instantly wrinkled his nose in disgust at the sheer amount of pink. He thought she'd desecrated the classroom badly enough but holy Salazar the office was so much worse. It wasn't that Harry hated the colour pink-heck he'd even worn a pink jumper before and that jumper had been his favourite jumper. But Umbridge office was too pink. All the different shades clashed together and it hurt his eyes to look at it. Her walls were lined with thousands of those cat plates and suddenly Harry hoped she wasn't going to make him polish them. The pink velvet chairs had an odd discolouration to them. The gold plated frames highlighted that. The patches of wall that could be seen behind the cat plates was covered in pink wallpaper. Dark pink curtains draped around the archways. A gold book case stood in one corner of the room. Situated in the middle of her room was a mahogany desk , completely out of place in the otherwise pink and gold room. A large dulled , dusky rose coloured chair was behind the desk , and in front of the desk were two of the discoloured bright pink chairs. To the side were headless mannequins with all her different outfits-all a multitude of different hues of pink. The floor was swathed in a light and dark pink carpet embroiled with gold. Two white shag carpets were situated at opposite ends of the room. Near one of them stood a pink vanity desk and a pink ottoman. Harry was nearly sick at the sight of the room. A familiar , squeaky "ahem." Caused him to turn his head.

Umbridge stood dressed in a light pink velvet skirt suit and a dark pink shall , big pink Pearl earrings dangled down from her ears. She was just as sickening as the room. Her squashed toad like face and bulging eyes stared calculatingly at Harry. "Come in dear. Have a cup of tea." She squeaked. Harry wanted to say no but he wasn't given much of a choice. He was given a cup of tea in an ornate white , gold mug with a pink floral pattern. Even the sugar she used was tinted pink. Harry reluctantly took a sip of the overly sweet tea. He repressed a shudder at the sickeningly sweet taste. "You're going to be doing some lines for me today Mr potter." Umbridge said.

Harry went to reach into his bag for a quill but was interrupted by Umbridge. "Not your quill mr potter. You'll be using a special one of mine." She said handing him a quill with a blood red feather.

"Okay...how many lines do I do?" Harry asked.

"Oh let's say...until the message sinks in." Umbridge smiled. Harry noticed she didn't give him a pot of ink.

"Um-you haven't given me any ink? Harry said.

"Oh you won't be needing any ink." Umbridge said with a little giggled.

Confused Harry started to wright. The quill magically seemed to wright in red ink. By the second line Harry started to feel a sharp , stinging pain in his left hand. He glanced at it and was surprised to see the words he'd written on the parchment slowly be scrawled into his skin. The fresh wounds oozing beads of crimson. He now realised the red ink on the parchment wasn't ink-it was his blood. This was a blood quill. Shakily Harry put the quill down. Umbridge turned and stood in front of Harry. "Yes?" Harry stayed quiet. He wasn't sure what to say. He looked at her , fear and pain in his eyes , before grabbing his bag and running out of the classroom. He bolted down the corridors , tears welling up in his eyes. He tugged his sleeve down to try and hide the injury on his hand. He ran out of the castle and towards his tree. He upset and in pain , he wanted to be alone , he knew Hermione and Ron would question him. He sat under his tree sniffling. He rubbed his eyes until he felt a shadow looming over him. He looked up to see the angular face of none other than Draco Malfoy-not the first person he wanted to see him cry.