At five o'clock on the dot, Dolores Umbridge's wand began to vibrate sharply, making her pause in the mixing of her tea.
Slowly setting the spoon down on the saucer, Dolores reached out to brush her fingers across the surface of her wand, calming it down as a small smile tugged at her lips. Returning her wand to her sleeve, she picked up her spoon and finished stirring her tea, keeping her ears primed for the sound of a knocking at her office door.
Moving back to her desk, Dolores had just sat down when the sound of a fist slamming against her door made her jump slightly, her tea sloshing out of the cup. Biting back a scowl, she quickly vanished her spilt drink and cleaned her desk with a second flick of her wand.
Turning her attention to the door, Dolores called out a simple "Come in," knowing that it was Potter.
He was looking around the moment he entered her office, his head moving on a swivel as he took everything in, the look of disgust flashing across his face saying everything. After casting her family's ornamental feline plates a fond look, Dolores returned her attention to the troublemaker before her. "Good evening, Mr Potter," she greeted coldly, not liking the glimmer of anger in his eyes as he looked at her.
"Evening, Professor Umbridge," Potter ground out, clearly only saying it because he had no other choice.
"Sit down, Mr Potter," Dolores instructed, nodding with her head towards a small table, covered in lace with a chair sitting beside it. "And I'll ask that you not be late again," she added with a smirk, "I think doubling your detention time for tonight will encourage you to be on time tomorrow will it not?"
Perhaps he would be less disrespectful next time. It was extremely rude of him to be late when she was taking time out of her day to help him understand the errors of his ways. Watching as Potter's jaw clenched angrily, Dolores didn't speak as the boy visibly pushed down his anger and stiffly slid his bag off his shoulder, dropping it loudly to the floor as he threw himself into the chair petulantly. Obviously, it would take a lot more than just a few detentions to break through his delusions, his behaviour and attitude were absolutely detestable.
"There we go, Mr Potter," she said calmly, "We're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you're going to be doing some lines for me. No, not with your quill," she added as the boy reached for his bag, "You're going to be using a very special one of mine". Pulling a long, thin black quill from the top desk of her drawer, Dolores rose to her feet, moving around the desk to place the blood quill in front of Potter. "There will be no need to talk, Mr Potter," she added warningly, not wanting to have to deal with his impudent claims while writing up her reports.
Returning to her desk, Dolores barely had time to sit down before Potter was rudely saying, "You didn't say what I'm supposed to write? And you didn't give me any ink".
Taking a moment to calm down the flicker of annoyance in her chest, Dolores' hands flexed towards her teacup, absently wishing for something stronger. "I did say there will be no need to talk, did I not Mr Potter?" she asked coldly, "Now write, 'I must not tell lies', until the message sinks in".
Picking up her teacup, Dolores took a slow sip as she watched Potter snatching up the quill and press it against the parchment before him. She would deal with him for as long as she had to, but until it sunk into Potter's head (and his hand) that they would not accept his lies, she wouldn't be free of him.
Potter let out a hiss of pain suddenly, drawing her attention back to him as he dropped the quill and clutched at the back of his hand. From her position at her desk, Dolores could just see the movement on Potter's hand as the skin healed over, a smug feeling washing over her as she caught the realization on his face. Snapping her eyes back to her teacup as she saw Potter's head rising, she pretended to not have noticed him, hiding her smirk as she took another sip of her tea.
After counting five seconds of Potter staring at her, Dolores slowly lowered her teacup and smiled up at him widely. "Yes? Mr Potter?" she asked sweetly, "Is there a problem?"
The boy didn't respond straight away, dropping his head down to the parchment before him, his unmarked hand clenching tightly around her quill. "No, Professor," he ground out rudely.
"Then please, continue your detention," Dolores pressed. As Potter nodded stiffly, she smiled at him and picked her tea up again, taking a small sip as she watched the boy begin to cut into his hand once more. Setting her cup down, she pulled some of her class' homework towards her, a smirk flashing across her face as she realised that this was Potter's year's class. Honestly looking forward to reading Potter's essay on dark creatures, she shuffled through them all until she found one labelled with the boy's disgusting handwriting, hoping to find some sort of insight into the boy's delusions.
But alas, fate seemed dedicated to making her life hell – something that only strengthened her resolve, since doing the right thing was never easy. As she began to read his essay, Potter let out a loud sneeze. Shivering as goosebumps spread across her skin, Dolores paused and glanced up at the boy as he wiped his nose on his sleeve and refocused his attention on his detention. Looking back down at the essay, she twitched as her hand tingled, a pained noise escaping her lips as a sharp burning sensation arced across the back of her hand. As she watched, her mouth falling open in shock, the skin parted ways as the words "I must not fuck with Harry Potter" were carved into her flesh.
Head snapping up to stare at Potter, Dolores watched in horror as the raven-haired boy continued to write on the parchment even as emerald eyes watched up at her through his fringe. His hand snapped up as she tried to stand, forcing a whimper from her throat as she felt magic pressing down on her shoulders, pinning her down in her chair as Potter started humming cheerfully under his breath.
"I must not fuck with Harry Potter"
"I must not fuck with Harry Potter"
"I must not fuck with Harry Potter"
"I must not fuck with Harry Potter"
"Tell me Professor," Potter began slowly, Dolores trying hard to see through the pain and the tears in her eyes, "Do you think the message is sinking in? I'm not entirely it has yet, but I'm not an expert".
The words still cutting into her hand, Potter stood, the quill moving on its own accord across the parchment. "I'm tempted to just let it keep going," he admitted, walking over to sit on the corner of her desk, picking up a paperweight and inspecting it. "To let your blood keep flowing until there's none left to write with. Something tells me that'd just be messy though, and as much as I love blood, I'm not a huge fan of it staining the carpet. But either way, I'm pretty sure I want to kill you," he confessed bluntly before frowning down at the paperweight in his hands. "Can I have this?" he added hopefully, "It's really nice and I-" he paused and cocked his head, "You know, I'm just gonna take this," he decided as he slipped it into his pocket.
"Harry!"
Dolores' eyes snapped back to the door as it opened and closed on its own, Potter's mudblood friend appearing as she pulled off what looked like an invisibility cloak. "What do you think you're doing?" the bushy-haired girl yelled, Dolores feeling hope filling her as the girl scowled at the guilty looking boy, "The door was unlocked! Anyone could have just walked in here!" she added, making the fledgling hope crash.
"I knew you were outside with the Map," Potter said dismissively, as the Mudblood drew her wand and started casting spells at the door, locking it tightly before transfiguring it to look like the wall it was part of. "You would have let me know if anyone was coming".
"Maybe so, but that doesn't excuse bad planning," the Mudblood exclaimed with a scowl as she turned back to face them.
"Sorry you have to see this," Potter apologized to Dolores, shifting to make himself more comfortable as the Mudblood moved over to inspect the blood quill. "I'm kind of new to this whole 'Dark Lord' thing," he explained with a sheepish grin, a silent scream getting lodged in her throat as the blood quill began cutting deeper and deeper into her hand at the Mudblood's prodding, "There's a surprising lack of 'How to' books on becoming an evil entity".
"Harry," the Mudblood said warningly.
"What?" Potter blurted, "It's not like she's going to remember this when we're done with her!"
"You've carved 'I must not fuck with Harry Potter' into the back of her hand," the Mudblood pointed out, pulling the blood quill away from the paper, granting Dolores a brief respite from the pain still burning at her hand. "And as nice of a touch as I think that was, I also think she'll remember that".
Dolores watched as Potter blinked at his friend slowly, glancing down at her blood-covered hand with a grimace. "Oh yeah," the boy murmured slowly, frowning slightly as he drew his wand and waved it at her, vanishing all the blood on the table without a word. "We can't heal that can we?" Potter asked hesitantly, leaning forward to inspect the back of her hand curiously.
"Minor scarring we could heal," the Mudblood agreed, "You'll heal easily. That however? That's for life".
Potter and the Mudblood stared at each other silently for a moment, communicating entirely without words. "We're not entirely sure what we're doing," Potter said suddenly, not looking away from his friend as he spoke, "We know what we want, but we don't know how to get there. I'm not entirely sure how we get on this path either," he confessed as he cocked his head to the side, glancing over at the heavily curtained window, "I just remember waking up one day, wanting to crucio the shit out of the birds singing outside my dorm window".
"I know what happened," the Mudblood countered with a sniff, "We both know that these powers of yours are dark, you may not want to admit it, but we both know its true. When you discovered them last year they started corrupting you. And then you found that way to imbue both Ron and I with them, and they started twisting us as well".
"And now we're dark?" Potter questioned.
"And now we're dark," the Mudblood agreed simply.
"Huh," Potter said after a moment of silence, "Good to know. That doesn't tell me what we're going to do with her, but it's good to know".
"Well. I thought it was obvious," the Mudblood pointed out slowly, Potter cocking his head at her curiously. "I had wanted to put her under the Imperius, but those scars would raise suspicion".
"Good point," Potter agreed thoughtfully, "Oh well," he declared before raising his hand and snapping his fingers, a ball of crackling fire appearing above his hand. "Now hold still," he ordered, turning to face Dolores as the fire snaked and writhed through the air, "I've never done this to a person before".
And the fire consumed her.
Darkness
The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own Harry Potter.