Written because I watched the Harry Potter movies a bit ago, and the line 'naughty children must be punished' gave me a plot bunny from hell. I changed a few details, but really now, I'm rather proud of this one.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, never have, never will.

Nigel couldn't help the tremor of fear as he stared at the door that would lead to his torment, his punishment. It was one he was both proud to serve, but so damn scared of, he'd do it for Harry though: they'd been right, after all.

He pulled nervously at his robes, waiting until the last possible second 'I can do this...I can do this. ' Repeating the mantra in his head, he took the final step forward, knocking timidly on the door 'Please don't be here...'

Much to his displeasure, that to sweet, girlish voice sounded, calling him to enter. The door opened slowly, revealing the disgustingly pink interior of the office, the cat plates that mewed annoyingly, and Umbridge stood beside her desk, a sickly sweet, almost innocent smile on her face.

"Welcome, Mister Wespurt. I'm just so glad you could join me tonight." She giggled, "Now please, come join me."

Slowly, unwillingly, his legs moved him forward. He'd heard the rumors: fourth years and up got one punishment, third years and younger got another. He knew what the older students' got, the quill that wrote on them. But not one of the younger students mentioned their punishment, and Nigel didn't know if it was to painful and horrific, or if it was something else.

He tried not to shake from fear as he approached her desk, and her toad like smile widened. "Now Mister Wespurt, I'm sure you know why you're here. Participation in an illegal organization, conspiring against the Ministry, allying yourself with that completely insane boy-"

"Harry isn't crazy! And he's a better teacher than you are!" He couldn't help his protest, he knew he was right. She couldn't insult him.

"It's obvious your previous Headmaster completely corrupted you." She murmured, examining him and making him feel all to uncomfortable. "But don't worry, I'll teach you what's true." And her face seemed to light up at the thought.

"Take off your robes, Mister Wespurt." She ordered, and he stared at her in sheer shock, sure he had clothes underneath, but still, what was she doing? "Now. Mister Wespurt. Or you'll only make it worse on yourself."

His hands shook as he removed his robes as slowly as he could. He took his time, actually walking to a desk and folding them, setting them as carefully as possible on his desk. Anything to delay who-knew-what was coming, but it was still to quick. Once more he stood in front of her.

"Stand in front of my desk, the spot that's been cleared off." She instructed, and stiffly, he did as he was told. "Lower your pants and underwear." He stared at her for several long moments, but her gaze was expectant, demanding. Hesitantly he obeyed, hoping, praying even, that this was just a joke.

The look in her eyes told him this wasn't a joke, that she was dead serious. He flinched when a wand tapped the back of head, when black cloth ran around his eyes. He opened his mouth to protest, only to be cut off. He couldn't help the tremor of fear when his hands were placed firmly on the desk in front of him.

"Now, now, Mister Wespurt, you don't want to make it worse on yourself." The sweet, stern voice was taunting him as something oddly solid touched his lower back. "Now then, here are the rules." She began, "I count, you beg, and it stops when you tell the truth. All you have to do is tell me about the Army."

Without warning, something hard and fast hit his bottom, connecting with a harsh thwak. He cried out harshly jerking with pain at the blow, only to have yet another land on his body. A third came, then the fourth, each growing harder, faster than the last.

He fought back the tears that filled his eyes as the blows continued to rain down on his skin, assaulting his already sore bottom and upper thighs. He bit his lip to hold back his cries of pain, unwilling to let her know how badly it hurt, and even less willing to give her her way.

Maybe ten blows later, the tears began to fall, wetting the blindfold and streaming down his face. He sobbed brokenly as the blows continued, and shook in relief when they halted.

"Are you ready to talk?" Her sickly sweet voice was even more repelling than before, but he shook his head firmly. 'I can handle this, I won't tell, I won't tell.' He tried to reason with himself, to collect himself, but all thought went out the window as another blow landed, harder than the last.

They fell endlessly against his body as he cried out and sobbed, begging for the pain to end. After a particularly hard swat, his hands slipped, his knees buckled and he crumpled to the floor, still crying.

"Now are you ready to tell?" She asked, soft and deadly. Disgusted with himself, but unwilling to suffer any more pain, he responded, telling her every lie she wanted.

Nigel winced harshly as he sat down, just outside of Umbridge's office, attempting to disregard the pain that shot through him at the contact. He didn't want to sit, but his head was spinning, both from shock and pain. His hands shook, and he clenched them to try and stop it. He'd barely been able to collect himself, to stop shaking, when two people appeared: Fred and George Weasley.

He was completely shocked, shaking slightly when one of the twins wrapped an arm around his shoulder, as if they knew each other well. The other twin sat on his other side, ruffling his hair lightly.

"Don't worry, man." The first twin reassured him, "It's not as bad as it seems."

"Yeah," the second said, "And the pain stops after a while. You've got nothing to worry about."

All three looked up as one door opened, to reveal Harry, who looked shocked at the scene before him. It was obvious he hadn't expected Umbridge to torture all of the members of the DA.

Harry took a few steps towards him, looking to reassure, to comfort him, or maybe apologize, but he was interrupted by a quiet hem-hem, obviously meant to catch their attention. Nigel winced at the sound, unwilling to look up at the professor.

He heard her giggle lightly, "As I told you once more, Mister Potter...naughty children deserve to be punished."

Well, that's that. Isn't Umbridge just a bitch?

Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!
~CP