Fifth-year is horrible for harry. He just cannot be trusted these days. I mean, he defeated Voldy's mutation on his defense teacher in the first year, not to forget the Basilisk that he slew. And who did he do that all for? Well, all his friends of course! And what does he get in return? Nothing, not even the slightest bit of trust. Just cold shoulders and sneers as he walks down to the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione and Ron are having a serious conversation of whispers between each other.
¨ Harry mate, it's almost time for your detention with the pink pig.¨ That was another thing this year. The pink pig, Umbridge, is just the cherry on top of the stressful and exhausting fifth year. He just wanted a year where everyone would calm down. He could actually look into studying or quidditch.
"Harry, I know what she said was wrong, and I disagree with her methods, but you have to get it together. You like quidditch, right? Well, if you get a certain number of detentions, then you can't play."
Ah, Hermione, ever the logistic. Quidditch isn't on his mind anyway. He wished he could just be a normal teenager and actually experience life at its fullest, but NOOO, he has to worry about a noseless, snake-faced, mass murderer that just had to reincarnate into a moldy sock out of a cauldron.
¨ Hermione, I hate her, she hates me, that is just how life is. And with these hates comes the consequence of detention. It´s just the way of life, seriously.¨ Hermione gives me the look you normally give a look that you would normally give a two-year-old when they refuse to abide by the rules. ´really Hermione? I am just stating the facts!´ The warmth of the fireplace burns in front of me. The entire common room was empty, probably didn´t want to stay in a room with a ´liar.´ Hogwarts remains to be home, no matter what incident has happened. Especially the warmth of the common room when the harsh rains beat against the windows in a steady rhythm. The soft orange glow radiates out of the fireplace, highlighting my friend´s faces as they sat in front of it, giving Harry concerned glances.
I just shrug at them and make my way to the portrait to go out to detention and see what the Umbitch had in store for him. The hallways seem a little more gloomy than usual, as harry approaches the arch-like door. He knocks three distinct knocks before waiting for a second.
¨Come in!¨ Said a sickeningly sweet voice and with that indication, Harry had opened the door to the lair of one pink problem of his.
¨Have a seat now.¨ Said Umbitch, that irritatingly sweet voice that gets on Harry´s nerves. Harry looks around to take in his surroundings, the walls were painted in shades of pink and had plates. PLATES. Who hangs plates on the wall? And if that wasn´t enough, each plate had a cat on it. There were at least forty pairs of eyes watching his every move. The room was creepy, gross, and disturbingly pink.
¨Do you realize why you have gotten yourself into detention, Mr. Potter?¨ Umbitch asks. Why does she smile like that? It´s almost as creepy as her cat plate army.
¨I am here because I spoke out of turn and disrupted class.¨ Hey, it wasn´t a lie, he did speak out of turn and disrupted class, that's all really. But, Umbitch didn´t seem to get that.
¨Tell me, Harry Potter, why did you land yourself in detention?¨ Ugh! Her face. Harry sighs dejectedly, ¨ I spoke up and defended my dead friend during class.¨ It was Umbitch's turn to sigh. I guess she finally got the message that Harry wasn't going to answer the question. Wow! Umbitch thinking, Umbitch understanding, what an eventful day, a day full of miracles.
¨ Please grab the parchment, you will be doing lines today.¨ Huh, not bad. Though Umbitch's voice has that mock concern tone to it. Interesting… ¨What do I have to write down?¨ Harry asks in an exasperated tone. She would probably ask for something stupid like ´I will not interrupt class´ or ´I will not be disrespectful to professor Umbitch - uh - Umbrigde´.
¨ You will be writing ´I must not tell lies, Mr. Potter¨. Ehhh, predictable. I see what she did there. With the whole Voldy thing going on. I reach over to my bag to take out my quill. My blue one with the shiny sleek white stain on the top.
¨Not that quill, you will be using a very special quill of mine, Mr. Potter!¨ Again, huh, it seems she has a weird obsession with quills. So I take the quill. It actually is really pretty. There is a distinct design that runs along the abdomen of the quill and with the midnight black feather on top. The feather has sparkles wherever it catches the light from the awful pasty lamp. The actual writing part of the quill looks like a talon. Smooth and sharp. Harry takes it into his fingers and admires the quill for a second and looks up to find Umbitch looking pleased with herself. Okay, maybe she wanted to show off her flashy quills, and maybe I am impressed by it, but can you blame him? I mean, look at it.
Rolling his eyes, Harry takes the quill and starts writing an 'I must no' before the pain started in the back of his hand. Weird… ignoring the pain, he starts to finish it with 't tell lies', okay, so something was definitely wrong. Harry turned his hand and stared at the words that are etched onto the back of his hand. Damn Unbitch, that was way too far, even for you. Harry looks up to find Umbitch looking very pleased with herself.
"Is something the matter?", She asked in that horribly taunting sweet voice.
"Of course not", Harry replies.