Chapter Forty Four
"…And that is why muggles spent so long letting their own children starve, spending all their time hunting those with magic." Umbridge's voice trilled out over the classroom, "They made no distinction between women, men or even children. Torturing and then hanging hundreds. Are there any questions?"
No one was stupid enough to stick their hand up and ask anything, there were no 'good' questions as far as Professor Umbridge was concerned and in her classroom hers was the only opinion that mattered.
Daphne tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear and looked with pretend interest at the blackboard at the front of the classroom while her mind drifted peacefully.
"Hem, hem. Miss Greengrass," Umbridge smiled, "would you like to come up and finish the sentence on the board please?"
Daphne clicked back into focus, 'Muggles use their_to_those who are different from them' was written in Umbridge's curly writing.
Daphne stood up, brushing her skirt away from her legs as she walked to the front of the class, fully aware that everyone was staring at her. Her hand still stung from the ruler smack she'd gotten from Alecto two days ago, so far she'd managed to avoid any detentions with Umbridge but she had a horrible feeling that couldn't last forever.
She put 'power' and 'neglect' in the spaces and gave Umbridge a simpering smile as she handed back the chalk.
Umbridge gave her a rather tighter, disappointed smile, "Good try, I was hoping for 'control' and 'abuse' but still, it works. And let us never forget how muggles neglect their children and pets! Even their own parents as I'm sure the wonderful Professor Alecto Carrow has been teaching you yes?"
"Yes Professor Umbridge." the class parroted back, emotionless as always.
Umbridge didn't care though, they were saying the right things and that was all that mattered. They were starting to believe it, she could tell. Between her teaching History of Magic, and Alecto with Muggle Studies, it was seeping into their minds. A few more years and they would all hate the muggle filth as they should, as much as she did.
"Very good." Umbridge beamed, "Now, your homework is to pick a 'witch' from the Pendle witch trials and explain how badly they were treated by the muggles who abused them. Due a week from today please. Class dismissed."
Daphne dawdled putting her books away, long enough for Neville to slip her a note. She felt like she was a spy in one of the books Lily had loaned her on the muggle wars, part of it was thrilling but all of it was terrifying.
They were having one of the rare full meetings for training just after school and Neville needed her to get the room ready while he found Thomas, Matthew and Astoria.
Their numbers were growing everyday. It seemed like there could only be a handful of students who weren't part of the Hogwarts Wolfpack. There were some that couldn't be trusted of course, those who were known Death Eater children and a few others but well over half of every house, nearly all of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were part of the Wolfpack.
Daphne made sure she wasn't being followed, darting down a few less used hallways and turning round back on herself twice before making her way to the Come and Go room. The corridors were all fairly empty, she suspected there must be a staff meeting on or something.
Everything would have been fine if Daphne hadn't looked absently out of the window towards the forest as she walked.
She froze dropping her school bag, letting her books and notes for school work and training alike fell to the floor.
Voldemort was there, he was right there by Dumbledore's tomb that shone in the grounds even on the dullest of days and darkest of night.
Daphne could feel her heart pounding in her chest, all of sudden she really wasn't ready for this. No one was there, they hadn't called the Order of the Phoenix, Pansy and the others were still on the other side of the forest.
And Voldemort was right there.
She couldn't see what he was doing very clearly from such a distance. He was cracking open the marble she thought, trying to get into the body, although she couldn't think why.
He was laughing, she could hear it on the wind, a cruel high pitched laugh that haunted her dreams at night from the first time she'd heard it at the Ministry. She'd not had time to think before that battle, and maybe that was better as now she'd had time to think about this one she couldn't seem to move.
"Hem hem, Miss Greengrass?" Umbridge's voice cut through Daphne's panic, snapping her back to the corridor she was standing in, "What on earth is all this?"
Daphne snapped her head back to the window but Voldemort was gone, "I… I saw…"
"Yes?" Umbridge asked, her eyes shining with joy.
"You-know-who. I saw You-know-who." Daphne said, her mind struggling to catch up.
Umbridge knew this of course, Daphne realised that Umbridge must know the second the words left her lips. Umbridge's Dark mark was shining boldly against her pale skin.
"The correct term, is 'the Dark Lord', you should know that young lady." Umbridge said, a harsh note already cutting into her voice.
"My apologies." Daphne smiled, "The Dark Lord, it just caught me by surprise."
"Why?" Umbridge demanded, "Should the Dark Lord, who is saving us all, not visit his old school?"
"He hardly visited the school." Daphne said sweetly, "He visited Dumbledore's tomb, that is what was surprising."
Umbridge narrowed her eyes, she knew there was something going on; you didn't go from being one of Potter's best friends to loyal to the enemy and a perfect student over night, not without hiding something.
"I see." Umbridge hissed, "Well, let's get your things all cleared up."
Daphne's eyes followed Umbridge's to where her things had fallen all over the floor. She dropped to her knees to scrap it all together before Umbridge saw but it was too late.
"Blocking charms from the Snatchers?" Umbridge said with nasty sweetness, "Why… why ever would you need these? The Snatchers are employed by the Ministry to round up traitors."
"Yes." Daphne said, feeling waves of cold flood over her, a sudden realisation she wasn't getting out of this without some punishment.
"Well?" Umbridge demanded.
"I was just doing it for a bit of fun." Daphne shrugged, "Thinking of ways I could help them, make it better. So they-"
Umbridge interrupted her with a sharp slap across the face; Daphne could feel the taste of blood fill her mouth.
"You are a little liar!" Umbridge spat, slapping Daphne again, causing her to fall heavily onto the stone floor, "You think because you have a nice mummy and daddy and a magical brat sister! Because you're pretty and clever you can get away with anything!" Umbridge took a deep breath, shoving her hate to the back of her mind so she could compose herself, lowering her hand from where she was about to strike Daphne again, "Well that just will not do any more. Detention Miss Greengrass, shall we say nine o'clock?"
Daphne held her cool palm to her hot, stinging cheek and gave a small nod, "Yes Professor."
"Excellent. I shall see you then." Umbridge beamed, "Now do run along like a good girl."
Daphne heard her heels clicking impossibly loudly on the polished floors as she climbed the stairs to Professor Umbridge's office. She'd finished her homework in the common room and counted down the minutes to nine o'clock, dreading it so much it blocked everything else from her mind.
Her hand didn't tremble as she knocked on the door though, she felt almost calm now.
"Come in, dear." Umbridge called.
Daphne didn't know what to expect, the detention she'd taken for Astoria had been in the classroom, with an audience, there couldn't be anyone else there though, it would just be her and Umbridge. Snape had said nearly all punishments would now be in front of the other students meaning whatever Umbridge wanted to do it was going to be particularly awful.
Her heart sunk as she saw a neat, fresh roll of parchment and a sharp, pointed quill sitting across the desk from Umbridge. She hated those quills, her hand still seemed to itch, even all these years later.
The office was as pink as ever, the brightness had gone from it though; it was now a dull, almost bitter pink. Even the cat plates had a hard edge to them.
"Please, come and sit down." Umbridge said, still smiling, "Would you like a cup of tea?"
"No." Daphne said, straightening up.
She'd had time to think about how she froze at the sight of Voldemort, it wouldn't do and it couldn't happen again. She would work on it, push for others to work on it as well during the Wolfpack lessons so none of them ever froze again, but for now the best thing she could do was be the lady she was raised to be.
"You seem annoyed." Umbridge said, with a high pitched giggle.
"Not at all Professor." Daphne said calmly, "I simply wish to get this over and done with. I'm sure you understand why I am so very tired of playing games."
Umbridge's eyes hardened, "Well you and your little friends would know all about that." she spat, sounding more like a petulant child than a teacher.
"Which friends would that be?" Daphne asked.
"You might think you are clever," Umbridge spat, "All of your sort do."
"And what sort would that be?" Daphne demanded, her voice dangerously calm, "My family has always been treated a certain way it's true, it comes from being one of the oldest, purest magical families that there is… is that a bad sort to be?"
"Things are changing young lady." Umbridge hissed, "And your family name wont protect you for long, your parents are nothing! They do not serve the Dark Lord as they should. Especially if, as you say, they are one of the oldest and purest magical families… I would suggest thinking very carefully about your future, a good, loyal husband would do a lot to improve your standing."
Daphne let out a bark of laughter, "And whom do you have in mind exactly? Since you seem to have become such a match maker."
Umbridge narrowed her eyes at the girl before her, "You really are asking for trouble, aren't you?"
Daphne shrugged, "I'm already in trouble, and someone like you, you were going to throw everything you could at me anyway."
"You will be writing lines for me today Miss Greengrass." Umbridge said softly, nudging the evil looking quill towards her.
"Yes I guessed that." Daphne said, equally as softly, "We'd been placing bets to see how long it would take for these things to make an appearance again. There were a few rumours that a few students had used them at the start of the year but nothing since… I do wonder if Professor Snape knows you're using them."
Umbridge let out a little laugh, her eyes flashing with joyful malice, "Oh, I've worked on them quite a bit since the last time you saw them. It was one of the few good things about my time in Azkaban, after your parents worked to have me thrown in prison. I met so many interesting people, with so many interesting ideas!" she ignored the question about Snape knowing what she was up to, he didn't and he didn't need to, therefore Daphne didn't need to know either.
Daphne didn't want to hear what they were, she knew it would be awful and painful, worse than last time as there was no chance that Umbridge would have made it less so and last time was bad enough.
"What will I be writing today?" Daphne asked, picking up the quill.
"How about… 'I am a filthy blood traitor'?" Umbridge beamed.
Daphne glared at her, "You can't be serious."
"Working against the Snatchers? Implying you are better than the Dark Lord because of your surname? What would you call it?" Umbridge spat.
"I will never forgive you for this, and I do not forget." Daphne said coolly, fighting the tremble that wanted to start in her hand but she was refusing to let show.
"Please begin Miss Greengrass, I really don't have all evening and this may take awhile." Umbridge said, with an annoying giggle at the end.
Daphne placed the quill to the paper and wrote out the first copy of 'I am a filthy blood traitor'. The pain didn't start scratching into her hand slowly like it did before, but waited until she'd finished writing to send a searing burn across her forearm.
Daphne let out a scream of pain and clutched at her skin, ripping the thin shirt fabric away to see the deep, blood red words embed themselves in her once perfect skin.
"I did tell you I'd made some changes." Umbridge laughed, all pretence of deportment vanishing from her, "Now come along, you have many more to write."
Daphne shakily grasped the quill and started to write again. The pain itself was unbearable, but somehow worse was the feeling of the quill sapping the strength and energy from her.
Almost a hundred lines later, with blood dripping down from the desk and Daphne so weak she was unable to lift her head from the desk as she messily scrawled the lines, Umbridge finally took the quill from her, looking over the parchment.
"Your handwriting is awful after a while, I should set you handwriting exercises." Umbridge tutted.
Daphne opened her mouth to respond but couldn't force the words from her lips, it came out as nothing more than a ragged, pain filled breath.
"I trust this has taught you the lesson. It's far more time effective doing it this way than making you come back day after day." Umbridge mused, "You're the first I've been able to try the new quills on, before I was just using the old ones. I wanted to make sure it was the right person who I first used them with, and between just us girls, I am so glad it was you."
Daphne managed to glare at her, moving her left hand to try and stem the bleeding from her right arm.
"You may go now." Umbridge smiled.
Daphne looked at her blankly and started to peel the cardigan from the back of her chair.
"Hem hem, aren't you going to thank me?" Umbridge beamed, "It would be awfully impolite not to."
"Thank you." Daphne mumbled, the words barely audible.
"Thank you for my lesson, Professor Umbridge." Umbridge corrected her, "Or do we need to keep going?"
Daphne took a deep breath, sending shocks of pain through her lungs, "Tha… thank you… for my… my… my lesson. Professor… Um… Um… Umbridge."
"Very good. Now run along, like a very good girl." Umbridge chirped.
Daphne couldn't have run anywhere if she was being chased by a lion. She did manage to haul herself to her feet though, wrapping her cardigan around her bleeding arm and stumbled from the room.
Her limbs felt like they had large, lead weights surgically embedded in them, her head was pounding and every breath was agony.
She heard the door close behind her and allowed herself to slump against the wall, her fingers reaching out for stones sticking out slightly so she could pull herself forwards, increasing the ache in her shoulders but making the best of her very limited energy supplies.
Daphne felt a ragged breath rip through her lungs and a trickle of blood ran down her chin.
"Daphne?" Ron asked, walking down the hall towards her, "Are you… you really don't look very good…"
Daphne raised her head, thinking of a million snappy replies about how she'd always look better than him, but none of them came out. She opened her mouth to ask for help, feeling the air move painfully in her lungs. She knew she'd been wrong to try and ask for help as the world spun around her.
Daphne fell from the wall, feeling the hard stone floor hit her head before peaceful, calming blackness closed over her.