Disclaimer: I own none of the recognizable characters. Just borrowing.

A/N: Em... review please. It would be nice to hear some feedback from more than one person (thank you singerinthesilence!), I'm going to keep writing either way though *shrugs* I was debating whether or not to threaten a writers strike but I changed my mind. So here ya go!

Chapter 4

I could swear that the room was getting smaller, the walls closing in and spinning all around me. Professor McGonagall's voice reached me as if from a distance and I didn't really pay attention to the words. Somewhere inside me, I knew that I had to pull myself together and think dammit! I was not going to go down without even fighting, and certainly not a blubbering mess... I hoped.

It was a struggle to control the sputtering gasps and sobs that burst from my throat of their own volition, and the corners of my eyes were starting to burn with tears, but somehow I managed to just shove it all down -- at least for the moment. Professor McGonagall was watching me with a sadness in her eyes that I didn't want to see. Didn't she know that she was only making it worse with all the pity? I pressed my palms to my eyes and took deep, shuddering breaths until I felt calm enough to look up.

"I'm fine." I heard myself say.

"You're sure, Miss Moody?" McGonagall asked quietly. God, she was making this so difficult, but it wasn't her fault -- it was Umbridge's and the Minister's. Or maybe it was my own, for not bothering to think about what I was doing before the deed was done. I was the one who told Umbridge off. I was the one who walked out of Filch's office. Granted, I had perfectly reasonable excuses on both occasions -- unless you're looking at it from an enemy's point of view; that's almost what the Ministry had become to me in just a few short days. I hated them, but I knew that I couldn't let that fact show too strongly on the outside, because Umbridge and Fudge held all the power right now.

Right little rebel I turned out to be.

"I -- yeah. Yes, I'm sure. So what -- what happens now?" Why was it so hard to string simple sentences together. Get a grip! I scolded myself.

"Albus is coming. He should actually be here any second now." McGonagall said, turning to look at the fireplace. There was a sudden flash of green flames (that I still had not managed to get used to after five years) and Professor Dumbledore stepped smartly out of the fireplace, embers still glowing a yellowish emerald. The man got straight to business, so that I hardly even had time to wonder at my first meeting with the powerful headmaster. At that moment, I felt sure that Fudge was going to lose whatever battle he had going with this wizard because a blustering little man with a bowler hat, Minister or not, could never take on someone so utterly... magical. But my moment to marvel was up, because Dumbledore was speaking.

"Fudge is not going to attend in person, but Dolores will be here in a moment to press the charges." Charges? What? That made me sound like some sort of criminal. "Ciara, just tell Professor Umbridge the truth and it should be enough. If it is not, we can always appeal -- I'm certain that the Wizengamot will take this case more seriously considering the circumstances." There was no hesitation whatsoever in the man's voice and he didn't even look at me. I wondered whether it meant that he thought me, a nobody and a student, beneath his attention and I felt a shadow of shame flicker in my chest for forcing him to deal with me. But no, that wasn't right. I shook my head, trying to clear it.

"No?" Dumbledore asked, blues eyes swiveling in my direction for the first time.

"No. I mean yes, I understand." On the last syllable, there were three impatient knocks on the door and everyone in the room turned to stare. McGonagall recovered a moment later.

"Enter." she called coldly. Umbridge pushed the door open daintily and stepped over the threshold with a wide, toad-like grin on her face that sent goosebumps up my arms. She wore a pink little dress and a matching scarf (nothing new: apparently pink is the color of evil), and her black silk fly, I mean bow, was still perched in her hair.

"Good morning, Headmaster, Miss Moody." she tittered, coming over to stand beside me. "I trust you all know why the Minister sent me here today?" There was no response, unless you count the fact that I edged several paces away from her in disgust. This did not faze her in the slightest. "Excellent! Now Miss Moody, I'd like a private word with you, dear. If you don't mind Headmaster." Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, but he nodded his consent and Professor Umbridge immediately pulled me out into the empty corridor. I prepared to try reason.

"Look, Professor, I'm sorry I walked out of that detention but I really had to get -- " but the woman interrupted me.

"Tut, tut. I don't want to hear any excuses: You broke the rules."

"But, I -- "

"Now, I will be willing to let you get off with only a week's worth of detentions if I find that you have... learned your lesson." The way she said the last three words made me shiver. I said nothing, not having any idea of how to go about proving that I had 'learned my lesson' to this toad, and not wanting to ruin my only chance.

"I want you to apologize, Miss Moody." I stared dumbfounded. There was no way it could be that easy.

"Er, sorry." I said.

"And what are you sorry for, Miss Moody?" Crap. What she wanted was not a simple apology to prove that I had learned something, but for me to give in to her and her silly beliefs. She wanted me to apologize for believing that Voldemort had returned, and for supposedly befriending Harry Potter. But I wasn't going to make it that easy for her.

"I'm sorry for walking out of that detention. I already told you that." Umbridge raised her eyebrows at me and her bulging eyes flickered down to my bandaged hand.

"Ok," I said, rolling my eyes, "I'm also sorry for disrupting your class with my pointless opinions."

"My dear," Umbridge started, taking hold of both my clean and injured hand, squeezing tight, "I don't want to hear about all that. When you advocated Mr. Potter's stories in my classroom, you must have scared quite a few people. There is nothing to fear out there, and I want to hear you say it." Bitch! I silently screamed at her. The other choice words I had for her were just on the tip of my tongue, but if I wanted to stay at Hogwarts and keep my family, I would have to play her game.

"I'm sorry for saying those things." That was about all I could say. If she wanted me to get more specific, my pride would probably jump out of my head and claw her eyes out. For a moment, I was lost in the wonderful image.

"It's not true, is it?" she asked sweetly, but it wasn't really a question, "Dumbledore and Potter are lying, aren't they?"

I hesitated for just a short second, and whispered dejectedly, "I don't know." Her smile widened while her eyes seemed to attempt a comforting look, and she dropped my hands.

"Then I am afraid that -- "

"Wait!" I cried, heart thudding wildly in my chest. "I -- yes! I think they're lying!" I knew it didn't really matter, but I crossed my fingers behind my back, if only just to spite her.

"Good," she simpered, "very good, my dear. Detention in my office next Monday." Umbridge turned on her heel and left me standing there in the corridor, suppressing the intense urge to leap after her and curse her into oblivion. I wanted to cry and scream and rage, because I hated that I had let her win. She hadn't given me a choice though. Potter wouldn't have done it regardless of if he was facing expulsion, a nasty little voice hissed inside my head. Great, so now I was going insane too.