Heyy! So, I'm not gunna say to much up here…
Thanks to: the Anon who reviewed
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and blahdblahdblah
Chapter 9: VS
"Good morning, class," Umbridge said.
"Good morning, Professor Umbridge," the class chanted back.
"Please turn to chapter eight, read through it and make notes," Umbridge told them, her skin stretching as she smiled. Everyone opened their books to chapter eight. As everyone started writing notes, Mia pulled out her quill and wrote: Hi! She slid it over to George. The reply she got back was: hello? She rolled her eyes and looked up at Umbridge. She hadn't caught them yet.
Well, you're just FULL of things to say, aren't you? She gave the parchment back to George.
Well, what else am I supposed to say? She rolled her eyes again.
Something! She slipped the note back and glanced back down at her book, which was open at the completely wrong page. She heard footsteps coming towards them and the parchment was snatched from under George's hands. Umbridge scanned the words and looked over the top of it. Excellent, Mia thought.
"I see that Mr Weasley here is disturbing you," Umbridge said. Several people looked around at them. Mia didn't say anything and just looked at Umbridge. "Is he disturbing you, Miss Homing?" Mia shrugged. "Well, perhaps you'd like to move places?" Mia blinked up at her.
"Move… places?"
"Yes. Over there, perhaps?" Umbridge pointed to an empty seat next to a Slytherin boy, who instantly made a face and feigned gagging.
"Next to the Slytherin?" Mia asked, throwing a dirty look at him.
"Yes… is that a problem?" Umbridge smiled.
"Yeah, it is, actually," Mia replied.
"But, why?" Umbridge asked, smiling even wider. Mia looked over to the Slytherin again.
"Well… in case you haven't noticed, but Gryffindors and Slytherins don't exactly get on," she said, sneering the word 'Slytherin'. Meanwhile, Umbridge was slowly tearing up the note.
"Miss Homing, when I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it," Umbridge told her.
"Technically," George nudged her, but she ignored him, "you asked me. Which means I had every right to refuse." Umbridge looked at her for a moment. Next to her, Fred and George were sitting, utterly surprised. The scene in front of them was very calm. Mia wasn't even standing up… yet.
"Very well then, Miss Homing. Go and sit over there," Umbridge pointed to the seat. Mia raised her eyebrows, smirking a bit.
"No, I don't think I will," she replied. Everyone in the room was looking at them now. Umbridge's smile (which had been faltering for some time) suddenly disappeared. The whole room was silent for a minute, and Mia and Umbridge just looked at each other.
Then Umbridge said, "Miss Homing, I am your teacher, and you should respect me."
"Respect?" Mia spat back, "respect?" she stood up, pushing her chair back, "I'm sorry, Umbridge, but I only respect those who've earned it. And you sure as hell have not earned it!" George kicked the side of her foot, but, again, she ignored him, she was on a roll now, "and I doubt you ever will earn it!" Umbridge looked up at her, and plastered another smile on her face.
"If you move now, Miss Homing, perhaps I won't give you a detention."
"I don't care if you give me a fucking detention," Mia replied, venom dripping from every word.
"Detention it is, Miss Homing," Umbridge's voice was sweeter and girly then ever, "now, if you'll please just move to the empty seat over there, then perhaps we can carry on with our lesson."
"What lesson? I thought the whole meaning of a lesson was to learn!"
"Move," Umbridge's voice lost the sweetness, "now."
Mia glared at Umbridge for a moment. Her wide eyes had gone circular. Then she slammed her book shut, picked up her bag, kicked the chair over onto the floor and stalked over to the seat next to the Slytherin boy. She dropped her bag, threw her book down on the table and grabbed the top of the chair, pushing down hard. When she pulled it away so she could sit down, it scraped horribly against the floor and several people in the room winced. She sat down and opened her book, then looked back up to Umbridge. "Happy?"
"You will come to my office tonight a six o'clock for detention, Miss Homing," Umbridge told her, then turned and walked back to the front of the class, saying, "Please carry on with your reading of chapter eight."
Later that evening, at dinner, Angelina was saying, "you were supposed to do your Potions homework tonight! And it's due in first period tomorrow!"
"Don't worry, Angie! I'll do it when I get back!"
"When you get back? When you get back? Mia, you do realise how everyone that's had a detention with her hasn't gotten back 'til after midnight?" Mia rolled her eyes and checked George's watch. She swallowed the last bit of her chicken and stood up, picking up her bag.
"See you guys later," she said, turning and walking out of the Great Hall. She walked through the castle, greeting Nearly Headless Nick on the second floor, and finally ended up outside Umbridge's office. She banged on the door, hard, and she heard a faint, "enter." She grabbed the handle and pushed it open, stepping into the office.
Mia had only ever been into the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's office twice. Once with Professor Quirrell, when she'd accidentally set his turban alight and he'd given her detention. And the second time when she had given a piece of homework to Professor Lupin two days late. Both of those times the office looked like it actually belonged to someone who knew how to defend themselves against the Dark Arts. Now, however, it looked like it belonged to… well, she wasn't really sure who it might've belonged to.
Everything was pink, white or a light purple, with lace and frills draped over every possible surface. The small cats on the many plates hanging on one of walls meowed and pawed at their own painted floor.
"Hello, Miss Homing, how are you?" Umbridge asked her from the oink desk. Mia looked at her.
"Don't see why you would care." Umbridge smiled.
"Very well. If you would to sit down, we can start your detention," she gestured to a chair and a desk, with a piece of parchment and a black quill. Mia threw her bag on the floor, hearing what sounded like an inkpot smashing. Umbridge narrowed her eyes as Mia sat down, with one hand resting on the table, the other resting on her knee under the desk. "Now, I would like you to write me some lines. I would like you to write I must respect my elders." She smiled. Mia looked around the desk and picked up the quill- she noticed it had a very sharp tip.
"Umbridge," she said, "I kinda need ink."
"No you won't."
"What?"
"You won't need any ink."
"Then what am I meant to write with?" Mia asked rudely. Umbridge forced a smile.
"Just write," she said, in a voice even sweeter then usual.
"With what?"
"Miss Homing, if you wrote, you would find out, wouldn't you?" Mia rolled her eyes and placed the tip of the quill at the parchment.
"I must respect my elders," she said loudly and obnoxiously as she wrote the words. Mia stared for a second in confusion as the words appeared in glistening red ink. She didn't really notice the pain in her hand.
"Well, carry on," Umbridge said as her eyes narrowed.
"I must respect my elders," Mia repeated, making her voice louder and even more obnoxious. She wrote five lines of I must respect my elders, saying the words aloud every time, until Umbridge coughed,
"Please write in silence, Miss Homing." Mia rolled her eyes, but stopped speaking.
Without the focus of saying what she was writing, she started to notice the pain in her hand that was resting on her knee. First, she squeezed it between her knees, then when that didn't work- in fact, it made it worse- she brought it out from under the table and looked at it. Her eyes grew wider. In her own long-letter, cramp-worded handwriting were the words, I must respect my elders. Scabbed over with the skin around the words red and irritated. For a second, she thought she was imagining it, and she wrote the sentence again. Her hand twitched painfully and the wounds broke open. She realised that what she originally thought was red ink was actually blood. Shining in the light before it dried, turning a dull crimson colour.
"Is there a problem, Miss Homing?" Umbridge asked. Mia looked up to her, mouth slightly open.
"Yeah, there is, actually," she said, "what the hell is this?" she held up the quill, but before Umbridge could answer, Mia stood up, flinging the quill down on the floor, "'Cause I don't know what planet your from, 'cause you certainly don't look human enough to be from Earth, but here, on Earth, torture is illegal," she picked up her bag and saw a small black puddle on the carpet, where in ink from the smashed pot had obviously seeped through the bag. "now, if you don't mind, Umbridge, I think I'll be leaving."
"Homing!" but Mia ignored her. She turned on her heel and took her wand out of her pocket. Praying it would work, she flicked it at the door, feeling relived when it flung open, banging on the wall and causing a couple of the cat plates to fall into the floor, shattering.
"Homing!" again, Mia ignored her.
As she stalked through the door, she threw over her shoulder, "see you in hell, bitch!"
As she walked along the corridors, the irritating pain in her hand grew, until it seemed to be stinging. She cradled it in her other hand, trudging up flights of stairs. She didn't even know if torture was illegal for wizards! On the fifth floor, Peeves came flying down the hallway.
"Ooo, what's little kiddie doing out and about?" he started shooting ink pellets at her.
When one fell onto the back of her neck, she whipped around and screamed, "SOD OFF, PEEVES!"
"Ooo, little kiddie's getting angry!" he cackled. She pointed her wand at him and sent a Stunning Spell, but he dodged it and cackled again. Eyes going wider, she clenched her fists, regretted it when pain shot through her left and, whirled around, running down the corridor.
"Mimbulus Mimbletonia," she muttered darkly to the Fat Lady.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked.
"Mimbulus… Mimbletonia," Mia replied through clenched teeth.
"There's no need to take that tone with me, young lady!" the Fat Lady swung open, and Mia stalked past her. She nearly walked straight past Angelina, George, Alicia, Fred and Katie, but Angelina stood up.
"What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" Mia said shrilly, "WHAT'S WRONG?"
"Shh," Angelina said. Katie and Alicia had come to stand around her as well, now.
"Oh, I'll tell you what's wrong! That's what's wrong!" Mia held up her left hand and automatically, Angelina grabbed her wrist and pulled it closer to her face.
"I must respect my elders… how did she do this?"
"Do what?" Fred asked as he and George came over to them too. Angelina showed them Mia's hand and they stared, agape, at it. George gently pried it out of Angelina's grip and ran his fingers lightly over the words.
"Did she… carve the words into your hand or something?" Fred asked.
"No! She made me use some quill that when I wrote it cut open my hand and wrote in blood!" George brushed his fingers over the scabs again.
"I think I'll go to bed," she said miserably, her anger had burned out now, "'night." She slid her hand out of George's and traipsed up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.
Ok… so I hope that lived up to all the hype the 'fight with Umbridge' has been given…
Please review!