Chapter 44: The First Detention
They were standing in the third floor corridor. Lissa was knocking on the door of Umbridge's office.
'Come in,' Umbridge called in a sugary voice.
Lissa entered cautiously, glancing around the office. Her eyebrows raised in faint amusement as she took in the blindingly pink room, with its fussy lacy covers and knickknacks on every available surface. Her smile faded instantly when her eyes fell on a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicoloured kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. Lissa stared at these for several seconds, the expression on her face almost comical; it was plain that she thought the plates positively foul.
'Good evening, Miss Emerson.'
Lissa gave a little jump and turned around. Umbridge was sitting at the desk, her bright pink cardigan rendering her difficult to see against the pink walls.
'Good evening, Professor,' she said politely but nervously.
'Well, sit down,' said Umbridge, pointing towards a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up a straight-backed wooden chair. A piece of bright pink parchment lay on the table, apparently waiting for Lissa.
Lissa glanced toward the desk but didn't move. 'Professor,' she said cautiously, 'Before we start, I wonder if I might ask a quick question… just to clarify something.'
Umbridge's toadlike eyes narrowed. 'Yes?'
'Well, I-I'm afraid I don't understand what I've done to deserve detention. Would you mind explaining – just so I can be clear on what to avoid in future?' The words were said very quickly.
'Oh, you haven't done anything,' said Umbridge pleasantly. 'Oh, no, no, no. This is just a chance for me and you to have a little chat.'
Lissa stared at her in confusion. 'But… Professor, couldn't you have talked to me after class? And… you told me this was detention… I'm not sure I understand…'
'Oh, you will, Miss Emerson,' said Umbridge sweetly. 'You see, the Ministry has created a new study program for high achievers, and as Undersecretary, I have been given the task to seek out Hogwarts' most talented students and offer them a place in this course. I've closely observed your work over the past few weeks and I must say that I am very impressed. Of course,' she continued, smiling still more widely, 'I couldn't let all the students know, and what better way than to pretend this was a detention?'
Lissa eyes were sparkling with excitement as she sat down sideways in the straight-backed chair so as to face Umbridge. 'Would we get new books and study materials?' she asked, leaning forward eagerly.
'Oh, yes,' said Umbridge, smiling so widely that she looked as though she had just swallowed a particularly juicy fly. 'But first, there is something you must do for me, so I can ensure you are suitable for such a prestigious course. Nothing of consequence… I just need you to answer some questions for me. Just to help me get to know you better.'
'Of course, Professor.'
Umbridge's smile widened. 'Good,' she whispered. 'Good. Now then…' She leaned forwards a little. 'Tell me about Harry Potter. I understand you and he spent a lot of time together.'
'Well, yes, we're friends,' said Lissa, looking thoroughly confused. 'What does he have to do with –?'
'I simply want to get to know you, and in order to do that I feel it is important to know the character of those close to you. Wouldn't you agree?'
Lissa nodded slowly. 'I guess so.'
'Good… good… now could you answer the question?'
'Okay… um… yes, we hang out a lot. We met on the train and sort of hit it off. We're both orphans, you see, and it's my first year… he looks out for me, you know?'
'And with you being so close, I'm sure you are aware of the claims Mr Potter is making about the events that occurred last June?'
Lissa's expression grew guarded. 'What would these "claims" be, Professor?'
Umbridge was watching Lissa very closely. 'I think you know very well what they are, Miss Emerson,' she said softly. 'And I must warn you, students that listen to evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories will not be tolerated.'
'Harry wouldn't lie about this,' said Lissa firmly.
'Oh?' said Umbridge, looking faintly amused. 'How could I believe that unless you tell me more about him? I've heard a rumour that the mass-murderer Black was given custody over Potter. Such an influence would –'
'He's not a mass-murderer!' Lissa snapped, jumping to her feet. 'He's kind and gentle and –'
'And how could you possibly know that?' said Umbridge, smiling widely. 'He was only freed a week ago, and my sources tell me he has been in London since then.'
Lissa looked like a cornered deer. Trying to save the situation, she sat back down. 'Harry spoke with him after the trial. He told me about Black.'
Umbridge was watching her with her head slightly to one side, still smiling widely, as though she knew exactly what Lissa was trying to do and was waiting to see whether she would slip up again.
'It isn't nice to keep secrets, Miss Emerson,' she said, her voice becoming dangerously sweet. 'It's obvious you know more than you're telling. About Black as well as Potter.'
Lissa said nothing but fixed Umbridge with a glare worthy of Snape.
Umbridge's glittering eyes regarded Lissa coldly. 'I think we will hold a detention after all. It ought to reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach you.'
She handed Lissa a long, think black quill with an unusually sharp point. 'I want you to write, I must not keep secrets.'
Her expression determined, Lissa raised the sharp black quill and placed the point on the pink paper and wrote: I must not keep secrets. She let out a sharp gasp as the words appeared across the back of her hand, cut into her skin as though traced there by a scalpel. Lissa swiveled around to stare at Umbridge, her mouth opened in protest.
Umbridge's wide, toadlike mouth was stretched in an evil smile. 'Yes, Miss Emerson, that is the penalty for keeping secrets from the Ministry,' she said, eyes narrowed malevolently.
Lissa sat rigidly at the desk, writing, again and again, I must not keep secrets, each time the words cutting into her skin. Time stretched on. The clock on the wall showed 9 o'clock when Lissa paused in her writing to rub her stinging hand. Three hours had passed since her arrival.
Umbridge looked up when the scratching of the quill ceased. 'Keep going,' she said evilly, fingering one of the pink lacy covers on her desk.
'I c-can't!' said Lissa, looking on the verge of tears.
'Yes, you can,' said Umbridge, smiling, 'because if you don't, your new family will hear about what a disruptive, defiant girl you are – Oh, yes. I know all about your history – We'll have to find out whether this family will keep you on after they receive word about what a troublemaker you are…'
'They won't believe you,' said Lissa, although she didn't sound confident.
Umbridge smiled confidently. 'Oh, I think they will. After all,' she continued in a menacing whisper, leaning close to Lissa, 'it's my word against yours, and who would trust the brat of a drunk over the Undersecretary to the Minister?'
Lissa bit her lip, staring down at her hand.
'Well, carry on,' said Umbridge. She moved over to her desk, sat down and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for marking.
Slowly, Lissa turned back to the parchment, placed the quill on it once more, and, with tears dripping down her face, wrote out again, I must not keep secrets.
Harry woke abruptly, the image of Lissa's freshly cut hand imprinted sharply in his mind. Someone was crying softly. It was a moment before he recognised where he was, and several more before he realised what had happened. He sat up in bed and glanced quickly around the hospital wing. In the bed to his right, Ben was also sitting up.
Last night, Ben had marched into the hospital wing and declared that he was going to spend the night. Having heard all about his pranks and tricks, Madam Pomfrey had been all for sending him right back to the Hideout. But after Ben looked up at her with wide, tearful eyes and a trembling lower lip, she had given him a motherly hug and assured him that yes, of course he could stay with his sister. After such a masterful performance from Ben, it hadn't been hard for Harry to lay his own claim on a vacant bed. When the matron had opened her mouth to protest, he had just stared at her with a very serious expression. Less than a minute later, she was handing out spare blankets and wishing them 'goodnight'.
Now, as Harry picked his glasses up off the bedside cupboard and slid out of bed, he noticed Ben doing likewise. Wordlessly they strode to a third bed, where they knew Lissa to be sleeping. She was lying down facing them, and Harry could see her eyes reflecting the moonlight. When she saw them approaching, she sat up against the headboard.
'I'm sorry for waking you,' she said thickly. 'I was dreaming about it again.'
'Yeah, I know,' said Harry. 'I dreamt it too.'
'And me,' said Ben, his voice uncharacteristically serious.
'Oh,' Lissa whispered. 'I didn't mean to do that.'
'Did that actually happen? That dream?' Harry asked.
Lissa sighed. 'Yes,' she said flatly. 'That was the first detention.'
'Does your hand still hurt?' This was from Ben.
'A bit, but I've got potions for that.' Lissa was silent for a long time, and when she finally spoke, her voice was shaky and unnaturally high-pitched. 'I – I have to… tell you something.' She took a tremulous breath. 'Umbridge was asking about Harry. She wanted to know why the famous Harry Potter would associate with a castaway waif.'
She raised a hand when the boys made to protest. 'Don't try to interrupt. It'll be easier if I just get it over quickly.'
'All right, then' Harry said reluctantly.
Lissa nodded her thanks. 'Well, as you saw, I tried to bluff, saying you'd just felt sorry for me, being an orphan too, and taken me under your wing. But then everything went from bad to worse. I panicked and slipped up when she insulted Sirius, and then she knew I was hiding something. I had three weeks of detention; every evening I went to her office and she made me use that quill.' Lissa gave a shiver. 'When I still didn't tell her she got angry. She pulled out her wand and…' Lissa gave a dry sob. 'It hurt so bad…'
A terrible thought occurred to Harry. 'She didn't – It wasn't… the Cruciatus?'
Lissa's silence was answer enough.
Harry heard Ben's sharp intake of breath. He himself was having trouble holding in his outrage. He wanted to throw something, smash something, yell at someone. The thought of Umbridge holding Lissa under the terrible curse –
'It was worse than you described,' Lissa said tremulously. 'A-and she was going to do it again. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have – but I told her about our bond. I'm so sorry! I've put you all in danger. I've – '
She broke off as Harry put his arm around her.
'I'm glad you told her,' he said, trying to hold himself together. 'If you hadn't she only would have hurt you more.'
'But she was working with Voldemort!' Lissa sobbed. 'I saw her send the message to him! Now he knows about us!'
Harry shook his head. 'He would have found another way to get the information. Who knows? Maybe he would have gone after Ben or me!'
Lissa looked distraught, so Harry added, 'You know, maybe we should just sick Ben on Voldemort. Can you imagine Voldemort with clown hair and a pink tutu?'
That did it. Lissa giggled. 'That sounds like something Ben would do, all right.'
Ben was miffed. 'I did that on the Dragon years ago! I wouldn't use that old prank again. I'd come up with something completely ingenious. I am an artist after all.'
'Okay then,' said Lissa, the faintest smile on her lips, 'tell us what you would do to him if you had the chance.'
A few floors away, the atmosphere in Dumbledore's office was equally tense, but no one was making jokes.
Emily was sitting in the chair in front of the desk with Laura asleep on her lap; she was hugging the child tightly to herself as if afraid she'd be snatched away. Sirius stood rigidly beside them, his face extremely tense. Both were staring at Dumbledore, who sat behind his desk, his expression serious, the tips of his long fingers together.
'So what are we going to do?' Emily asked, breaking the silence that had begun to stretch on indefinitely.
Dumbledore sighed softly. 'The only thing we can do: wait for Voldemort to show his hand; attempt to counter his plans; and in the meantime, keep the children protected.'
'There must be something else!' Sirius exploded. 'What about a safe house? We could take them back to Grimmauld Place!'
Dumbledore shook his head. 'No house is completely safe. Spells can fail, secrets can leak out – I think the safest place for the children is at Hogwarts, surrounded by teachers and students.'
'I agree,' said Emily, turning to Sirius. 'Two of us couldn't hold keep him away from the kids for long. It's far better for them to be here where the teachers and older students can protect them.'
'I still don't like it,' said Sirius grimly. 'There must be something else we can do.'
'Yes, I think there are a few more safety measures we could take,' said Dumbledore, leaning forward in his chair. 'That is what I wished to speak with you about.'
