Set in Harry's fifth year, this is from Marietta's perspective when she snitched on the DA, and how it ended up affecting her. Criticism is welcomed; be brutal if necessary.
"Yes. On the seventh floor." Marietta nodded slowly at the stout woman sitting across from her. "It's called the Room of Requirement."
Professor Umbridge leaned forward eagerly. "Good, good. Tell me more, dear."
Marietta bit her lip as she stared at a mounted plate with a pretty white kitten painted on it. Maybe – maybe she shouldn't snitch. Maybe she should just keep her mouth shut, like everyone else in the DA had. Maybe she should say it was all a mistake; there was no Room of Requirement – it was just a joke.
"Well, girl?" The professor looked at her impatiently. Her gaze, a few moment before cheery and encouraging, now turned sour and bordered on hostile. "I'm waiting."
She smiled apologetically. No, she couldn't not tell the truth. It would be wrong. Plus, she was endangering herself, being in a room, practicing magic, unsupervised by teachers. Not to mention, she was breaking the law by keeping quiet. Best to be the first to let Professor Umbridge know, and get a full pardon.
"I—There's a meeting, tonight, on the seventh floor." Marietta paused. "I won't get in trouble for this, will I?"
"Oh, no. Of course not. Though I may not say the same for your friends. They chose to lie." Here the Professor gave a half-giggle, and then shook her head disapprovingly. "It's their own fault, really."
Marietta nodded, not paying too close attention to the professor's tirade, her eyes focused on a plate mounted above Professor Umbridge's left ear. It contained a black kitten playing with a ball of string. She followed its movements for a while, then tired and cast around for another scene to look at. The longwinded speech was beginning to be tiresome to listen to.
The professor's office was decorated all over with plates and frills and pink, with small pieces of reflective glass scattered around like a mosaic. It gave off a pretty effect when the light hit the mirrors in the right way.
Suddenly, Marietta stopped and stared in revulsion at the thing looking back at her from the mirror. Its mouth was open, carefully outlined with lip gloss, and its curly hair wasn't standing up on end like it had blown something up instead of performing a charm. It had plain, brown eyes and a long, straight nose like her, but it wasn't her. It couldn't be her. It couldn't.
"These days, it's nearly impos-" The professor had stopped speaking, interrupted by Marietta's squeak of horror.
Marietta blinked back tears, and the thing in the mirror blinked along with her. She clapped her hand to her face, covering up the pimples that were now emblazoned across her face. She rocked back and forth slowly as a flustered Professor Umbridge pulled out her wand and started making complicated movements with it in the air, her lips moving wordlessly.
She started to cry, giving up on trying to preserve her non-waterproof mascara, as the seconds drew into minutes. The professor was getting agitated as well, whether it was by lack of results or Marietta's waterworks.
"Look, dear. Why don't you tell me more while I fix this?" The professor's tone had nothing 'dear' about it, and the question was more like a command. Still, Marietta shook her head mutely and stuffed her fist in her mouth to quell her sobs.
She pulled her robes up and buried her face in them. Her face. It had never been much to look at – but now! One jinx, and not even Professor Umbridge could set her right. The pimples were all over her face, mocking her. The little purple bumps sat on her cheeks and nose innocently enough, but oh! She knew. She knew. They were just waiting for her to say something more, and they'd become even brighter and bigger and swallow up her entire face. They would. Those pustules were mocking her, as if performing the duty for the caster, since they obviously wouldn't show their face now. Oh, if they did… They deserved everything she wanted to do to the things on her face, and more.
It wasn't fair! Here she was, stepping forward and telling the truth and informing the ministry, and she was punished for it? The ministry was law and order and all things good. If it wasn't, her mother wouldn't be helping monitor the fires for the Minister. So for helping officials catch lawbreakers, she was jinxed with this? She broke out into fresh sobs, wiping her wet, disgusting face on her robes.
"I don't have time for this." Professor Umbridge spoke sharply, and Marietta bit back the urge to retort. What about her? The professor wasn't the one who had been jinxed. "I need to get to the seventh floor. Please, go back to your common room."
Marietta looked at the teacher, dismayed. Go out in public? When there was snot all down the front of her robes, mascara running down her cheeks, and SNEAK written on her face for all the world to see? Was the woman insane?
Professor Umbridge must have noticed her incredulous expression, because she hastily added "-and I'll have someone fetch you later so we can fix that." She turned around, dismissing Marietta with a wave of a slightly pudgy hand.