With their lunch concluded, Harry and Daphne cuddled on the coach for a few more precious moments before they would inevitably have to return to their work. The daunting task of determining the fate of the muggleborns unjustly imprisoned in Azkaban loomed over them like a dark cloud. Reluctantly pushing away the probing hands of her boyfriend, Daphne picked up a stack of papers from the table and sighed once again at their contents. Having complete lists of all the prisoners, including their dossiers and psychological profiles, was extremely helpful. But it also highlighted the monumental challenge it would be to fix all the errors committed by the current administration, be it due to the dark lord's insidious influence or simple negligence.
It was clear to Daphne that resolving the issue would require a delicate touch. The mudbloods were clearly the wronged party here. By all rights, they should have been subjugated, not imprisoned, and yet the efforts made toward the former were severely lacking in some cases. To Daphne, that was inexcusable. The affected mudbloods deserved substantial reparations for their mistreatment. However, the extent of individual compensations would hinge on a certain degree of cooperation from the victims. One necessary condition would be their silence on the matter – no books, magazine articles, or press conferences. Not without Ministry approval. The last thing Daphne wanted was for the entire nation to be emotionally touched by stories of plight suffered by the mudbloods. It might make the public unseemly sympathetic to their cause and make them question the social order. That couldn't be allowed to happen.
"I'm still not convinced Umbridge is solely responsible for this," Daphne pondered aloud. Harry was gently stroking her back with his arm and she felt him stop and tense at her words. "I'm absolutely not ruling her out!" Daphne quickly clarified. "But there are seven people on the Muggleborn registration commission, and she's just one of them."
Harry thought about that for a moment before he resumed stroking her back, his earlier tension momentarily eased. "Alright, so it might be one of the others," he mused. "Who are they?"
Daphne glanced at the list in front of her before responding. "Two of them are from families close to mine. I'm reasonably certain they're on our side," she suggested. "There's also an international member, sent as an observer by the ICW," Daphne explained before continuing. "I don't know much about him, but according to my father's journal, he's idealistic and a devoted pureblood supremacist."
Daphne's gaze traveled further down the list, her expression turning into a frown. "And then there are two men placed there on the dark lord's direct orders. Those two would definitely be my first suspects as to when and why the Commission has repeatedly gone wrong," she theorized, seeing Harry nod in agreement. "Finally, there's Umbridge and one other witch that I don't really know," she concluded.
Harry took a moment to process before asking, "So you'll be investigating them all, I take it?"
"Indeed," Daphne agreed wearily, though her tone soon shifted to determination. "Regardless of whose fault this is, they'll all be held accountable," she asserted with a conviction that surprised even herself. Daphne strongly believed pureblood supremacy was the ideal social order that benefitted all the citizens, including the mudbloods. And yet the Commission had taken her life's passion and twisted into a tool to oppress people.
Daphne once again picked up the list of muggleborns sent to Azkaban. With so many names on it, it was the grossest perversion of justice she had ever seen. The worst part was that most of the imprisoned mudbloods could have been happily serving their pureblood superiors if only they were shown the truth properly. Instead, they were discarded and left to suffer.
With that said, not all the mudbloods had been imprisoned unjustly as every society needed tools to deal with its disruptive elements. "There are two prisoners who I would call genuine mudblood supremacists," Daphne mentioned, looking up at her boyfriend. "Unless they renounce their beliefs and swear magical oaths of allegiance, I don't see any other option but to keep them there for life. They're truly despicable people, Harry," she told him seriously. Daphne suspected Hermione Granger might have been headed down a similar path before Daphne got her delicate hands on her and severely curbed the girl's dangerous ambitions.
"Then leave them there," Harry answered, agreeing to her plan far more quickly and smoothly than Daphne feared he would. She responded by giving her boyfriend a passionate kiss. He certainly deserved it. Daphne knew she was right and justified in what she was doing, but she also realized Harry didn't share many of her opinions. Yet he constantly supported her in achieving her goals, even though he didn't believe in them. It was both humbling and a source of great pride for Daphne.
Their lips parted and Daphne could see the love and desire he had for her in his enchanting green eyes. She smiled, knowing her own eyes were reflecting the same emotions back to him. A long time ago, that worthless mudblood bitch he used to be friends with accused her of having seduced Harry with her beauty. From the few excursions into Granger's mind, Daphne knew the mudblood was choking helplessly on the thought of Harry Potter falling in love with her. The bitch saw it as the main event leading to her downfall. Deep down, Granger was also consumed with jealousy, believing she never would have managed something like that given her physical attributes. Which was ironic as Granger wasn't that ugly and all she really needed was to take better care of herself.
In retrospect, Daphne had to admit the mudblood might have been right with her accusations. Daphne might not have intended to seduce Harry, but it's what she did... eagerly and happily. And she would do it again. Now Harry Potter belonged to her, body and soul. Daphne was certain that if push came to shove, Harry Potter would let her do whatever she wanted. It'd be trivial to turn him into a helpless slave, nothing but a puppet to her will. But Daphne knew she could never do that. She loved him with all her heart, her body and soul belonging to him just as surely. That love would keep her honest in the days to come.
"As for the others, we'll sort through them carefully," she reluctantly returned to the business at hand. "Those whose only crime was defying the Commission will be released," Daphne declared, carefully studying the documents, including internal reports from Azkaban. "Some of them will need to have their memories modified... as well as undergo mind healing," she shuddered while reading the reports about some of the atrocities done to the prisoners. Mind modifications were not something done lightly, but in this case Daphne didn't see any other choice. If the ugly memories were left to fester in their minds, they would breed bitterness and resentment, and such a large group of rightfully angry people could easily stir up trouble.
"They should receive compensation of some sort," Harry reminded her.
"Absolutely," Daphne agreed at once, already contemplating how to calculate the value of such compensation considering what they had endured. It would have to be large enough so they can truly move on with their lives and put the experience behind them. "All the mind healing and counseling sessions will be free as well," she added. "Lastly, all the unjustly imprisoned mudbloods will receive a formal apology from the Ministry. We'll make it absolutely clear that the halfblood terrorist Voldemort was responsible for their false imprisonment," Daphne stressed, smirking as she added. "And also, that the purebloods of Magical Britain are their saviors, not their enemies."
Harry looked at her sharply before reluctantly returning her smile. "Well, that's one way to put it. It'll sort of be the truth, I guess," he conceded. "But won't that risk stirring up people's anger against the halfbloods?" he wondered, clearly hoping that wasn't her intention.
"Potentially... yes," Daphne acknowledged his concern. "Which is why we will always phrase it as the purebloods of Magical Britain working alongside Harry Potter," she assured him with a wink.
"Well, that'll help, I'm sure," Harry answered sarcastically, though Daphne knew he didn't truly mean it. It was merely his unwarranted humility rearing its ugly head, a result of his upbringing. Daphne had been striving to help him overcome that. The Dursleys had ingrained in Harry a sense of worthlessness, which had become deeply rooted in his psyche. Rather than trying to convince him otherwise in vain, Daphne simply pointed out she would never lower herself to possess someone worthless. She made it clear only a powerful and confident wizard deserved to kneel at her feet. Perhaps it was unconventional to dominate someone into confidence, but it was certainly working with Harry Potter. Every day, he grew more self-assured and outspoken in their interactions, making it all the more satisfying for both of them when he willingly submitted to her despite now being fully aware of his intrinsic value and power as a person.
Harry leaned to his side and lovingly kissed her blonde hair. "Anything else we need to discuss, love?" he inquired, glancing at the documents. "Aside from those two you've mentioned, are there any other prisoners who could pose a threat?" he wondered, correctly suspecting that all of it couldn't be that easy.
"I'm afraid so," Daphne reluctantly admitted. "There are five mudbloods I'd classify as politically dangerous," she said, indicating the five names she had written on a separate piece of paper – individuals most likely to be at the heart of any future Muggle-born rebellion. Granger's name should have been on the list as well, but given that she was never going to see the outside of a prison cell again, it seemed pointless. "All of them are dangerous because they possess strong leadership abilities and have a history of supporting the muggleborn equality movement," Daphne explained and frowned, genuinely worried by the idea of such evil and misguided individuals walking freely among them.
"What would you like to do about them?" Harry asked, concern evident in his voice. He sensed her worry and squeezed her hand in reassurance.
"I'd like to leave them there to rot," Daphne replied honestly. Then her eyes met Harry's, and her conviction faltered under his gaze. "But... I suppose that would be wrong, wouldn't it?" she asked unhappily.
"That's correct," Harry confirmed with a calm smile that seemed disproportionately reassuring. Daphne suspected he enjoyed watching her squirm like that, and she made a note to return the favour later that night.
"Well, I suppose they can be released," Daphne conceded. "But I'll be speaking with them first," she firmly decided. "With any luck, Azkaban will have broken them by now, and they'll submit in exchange for freedom and the promise of safety after the war," Daphne said, trailing off as she considered the obvious caveat of that plan.
"And if they refuse?" Harry asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence, verbalizing Daphne's mental struggle.
Daphne sighed before responding resolutely. "They'll receive more than they deserve," she pointed out. "A second chance – a chance to repent for their mistakes and renounce their evil beliefs, to abandon their misguided quest forever and submit to their rightful superiors. If they refuse that chance... they'll still be free, but will have to be closely monitored for any criminal behavior."
For her part, Daphne was willing to settle for obtaining an oath from them not to be actively involved in any political movements. They would be free to wallow in their personal mudblood filth if they so desired, but Daphne categorically refused to allow such people to poison the minds of others, especially innocent mudblood children like David.
Harry smiled at her weakly before finally nodding. Daphne looked at him sympathetically, her hand lifting from his chest to lovingly stroke his cheek. She knew that what she was planning was still uncomfortable for Harry. It made her all the more honored for having his support and she vowed not to repeat the mistakes of the past when handling the whole mudblood issue. Some might disagree with her, but Daphne was of the opinion it wasn't necessary to resort to Voldemort's level of brutality. Pureblood supremacy was the inherently best system for any magical society. As such, it would inevitably be accepted by all through natural selection, requiring only gentle nudges to guide the evolution in the right direction.
Just as Daphne promised Harry, the mudblood submission will not be mandated by law in the future and mudbloods who wish to stay free will be allowed to do so. Instead of punishing the dissenters, Daphne intended to have those who willingly submit lavished with perks, making it an attractive and popular choice for people to make. The wild mudbloods, stubbornly clinging to the delusion of equality, would have to constantly struggle with the crushing knowledge their lives could be so much easier and fuller if only they were to submit to purebloods like so many others of their kind.
At the same time, there will be an intense information campaign, showcasing successful mudbloods who submitted and lauding them for the choice. The press and especially the tabloids will hail such mudbloods as responsible and wise while the wild ones will be painted as misguided, selfish, and potentially dangerous.
After several years of this, submitting to purebloods will have begun to be seen as normal – a natural and responsible thing for every muggleborn to do. Meanwhile, the wild mudbloods will feel like they're accomplishing nothing with their lives at all compared to their more responsible brothers and sisters. Their resulting jealousy and peer-pressure from their friends will bring them down to their knees far more effectively than any threats and punishments ever could.
This was the essence of Daphne's plan.
Instead of smashing the muggleborn equality movement with force, she intended to use soft but persistent measures to discredit them in eyes of the society, and especially in the eyes of mudbloods themselves. Daphne would systematically undermine the spirit of their movement, diminishing it until it became nothing but a joke.
Just seeing her in a relationship with Harry would be a huge blow to them. According to the reports, her boyfriend had become a legend among the muggleborn population imprisoned in Azkaban. With Harry's blessings, Daphne planned to fully capitalize on the status he had in their eyes. She would make it absolutely clear to all the mudbloods that she, Daphne Greengrass, had their messiah's unconditional support. Some of them might willingly submit to purebloods after that. The rest would be left demoralized and confused, leaving them easy pickings for the information campaigns.
Of course, there would always be mudbloods like Granger who wouldn't change their minds, no matter what. But with the public opinion firmly against them, such mudbloods will be looked down on as pathetic crazy people, irrelevant pariahs or mouth-breathing idiots. Their lives will be safe but fundamentally limited. The majority of them will eventually swallow their misguided pride and submit, or fade into obscurity.
And that would be the death knell for the muggleborn equality movement. No need to transform society with brutality and false imprisonments when properly adjusted tax codes and cultural education could achieve the same goal. And it would all start today.
The chance to mete out personal justice on Hermione Granger had proven irresistible to dear Dolores, and she would soon be coming to Greengrass manor. By now, the woman was no doubt salivating at the thought of torturing that awful mudblood into oblivion. She was going to be very disappointed as Daphne had no intentions of letting her destroy Granger. Not only did she intend to make further use of the girl, but Daphne also no longer believed Dolores deserved her revenge, given her apparent failure as the head of the Muggleborn registration commission.
Still, Daphne had to give Dolores something, and she couldn't let her simply crucio Granger so soon after her own mother had recently tortured the girl without her permission. Needless to say, Daphne was quite annoyed by that and concerned about Harry's reaction. Fortunately, her wonderful boyfriend was sympathetic and not really blaming Julia for taking a brief shot at the bitch who had tried to murder both her daughters. Daphne, however, wasn't so forgiving. She suspected that aside from revenge, her mother's goal had paradoxically been to protect Granger. By torturing the girl first, even for just a few seconds, she had ensured Daphne couldn't allow Dolores Umbridge to do it for far longer later. Not if Daphne wanted the mudblood in a working condition afterwards. In a way, Daphne was impressed. Her mother seldom played the game, but when she did, her schemes were always worthy of her legacy as a proud alumni of the Slytherin house.
In the end, Daphne decided on the type of punishment Dolores would be allowed to inflict on Granger. She was certain the woman would grumble, finding it insufficient, but Daphne's goal wasn't to make her perfectly happy.
The essential part was Dolores would be coming to Greengrass manor, giving Daphne the perfect opportunity to discuss things with her – both about the Muggleborn registration commission and the future of the Ministry after the dark lord's removal.
The worst part of being bound to the Rock of Prometheus was Hermione's profound solitude. The magic of the Rock tended to her physical needs, eliminating the necessity for periodic feeding and watering by the guards. Hermione soon discovered it also managed her bodily functions and hygiene. Thus, spending the remainder of her century-and-a-half-long lifespan tethered to the Rock, utterly alone, loomed as a bleak but very real prospect. However, it wasn't loneliness that Hermione found the most unbearable. The true agony lay in her inability to gauge the passage of time based on the frequency of the guards' visits.
Her cell lacked windows and was faintly illuminated by magic, casting an eternal, unchanging gloom. Hermione attempted to count to mark the passage of time, but it soon became perplexing and she lost track. Even her sleeping patterns proved unreliable, as the Rock's healing powers diminished her need for sleep, reducing restful periods to brief, irregular intervals fraught with unsettling nightmares.
It seemed there was absolutely no escape from the hell her life had become. The first time she woke up after her failed escape, she had already been tied to the Rock. Initially, Hermione questioned if she was even still alive, perhaps having been kissed by a Dementor already and her soul consigned to spend the rest of eternity in this timeless oblivion. Hermione soon dismissed that theory, reckoning even the soul-sucking demons wouldn't be that cruel, and that there was only one person who could have designed something like this.
While she concluded she was alive, determining the passage of time remained elusive. Hermione believed she had spent weeks bound to the Rock before the guards' initial visit, only to be stunned to learn it had scarcely been a day. Attempting to glean information from the guards proved futile. A sharp rebuke and a slap greeted her inquiries, dissuading further attempts. Hermione assumed she was finally being taken to her encounter with the Dementor, resigning herself to her fate.
But her expectations were thwarted.
There was one universal constant to her nightmarish experience as a prisoner of Daphne Greengrass – it was always worse. Every single time Hermione believed her situation couldn't get any direr the pureblood girl would prove her wrong.
Perfectly in line with that universal rule, instead of her soul being removed, Hermione found herself strapped to an examination table and used as the practice target for Astoria's Cruciatus curses. Hermione had never experienced the spell herself but read enough about it to know what to expect. She was relieved beyond measure when the girl turned out unable to cast it!
But as always, she should've known better as Julia Greengrass promptly substituted for her daughter, making Hermione realize the books hadn't prepared her for the actual experience. What she had experienced in the Greengrass manor already made Hermione wish she was dead a few times. But this was the first time they made her wish she had never been born.
The fact it wasn't even Daphne who made her wish that but her mother, somehow made it even worse. Hermione had very little previous contact with the quite, withdrawn woman. In her naivety, she even hoped Julia might be better person than her late husband and eldest daughter. But the older woman turned out to be the same ruthless pureblood supremacist like everyone else in the Greengrass family. After torturing her for a bit, Julia threw in some threats so nasty they sent her reeling with fear. Hermione believed Julia was perfectly serious and would carry the threats out if she had to.
In that moment, Hermione made a silent vow to never again defy the Greengrasses under any circumstances. She had already had trouble just contemplating the resistance, even before her escape attempt. Hermione always had to imagine Daphne helpless and herself holding a wand, or she would get utterly overwhelmed with anxiety at the thought of fighting the pureblood girl.
Now she couldn't even imagine that. Even if by some miracle Hermione received a second chance to escape, she wouldn't be able to act on it anymore. Should she find herself holding a wand in the future and Daphne Greengrass bound and helpless in front her, she wouldn't take advantage of the situation. Instead, Hermione would release the blonde, hand over the wand to her and obediently kneel at the girl's feet in submission while awaiting her punishment. Hermione couldn't see the scenario end in any other way.
It was probably a good thing Daphne Greengrass was done with her and they were unlikely to meet again. Or else Hermione risked losing even the last tiny shreds of dignity that hadn't already been stomped out of her after her failed escape attempt.
The more she replayed the events in her mind, the less they were making sense to her. Especially after taking down Harry and taking his wand, her memories felt almost foggy. The sequence of events, from her meeting with Ron, to fighting Daphne and her guards and finally holding Astoria hostage… it all felt like watching a whole different person. Even Ron's apparent betrayal that directly led to her capture felt hazy and strange.
Hermione knew there was no point in agonizing over it, but sadly tormenting herself over her past mistakes was one of the few activities she could do while tied to the Rock.
She wasn't sure how long it had been before the guards came for her once more. Could have been hours, could have been weeks. This time, Hermione didn't question them as they released her from the Rock and started dragging her away, merely relieved to have some semblance of human contact. Once again, she thought it couldn't get any worse, a thought that haunted her as the guards ushered her into another cell.
The guards placed her in the middle of the room and commanded her to kneel. Hermione obeyed and they proceeded to pull her hands into a spread-eagle position, putting restraints on her hands and arms and by doing so completely immobilizing her upper body. They did the same to her lower body next, by placing restraints around her knees and ankles, making sure she couldn't possibly get out of her kneeling position. Even though she didn't dare to question why they were doing this to her, Hermione's mind was racing with numerous scenarios, all of them bad.
She knew one of the more sickening uses the purebloods made out of her people was as a breeding stock for producing halfbloods. Sexual assault was one of the few indignities Daphne Greengrass so far hadn't subjected her to and for a moment, Hermione feared that's what was coming next. But once they were done setting her up in her tight restraints, the guards just left her alone in the cell. Hermione's relief didn't last very long as after several minutes, the door opened again and two people stepped inside. One of them was a guard and the other…
Just as many times before, Hermione should've seen this coming. Under Daphne Greengrass's reign, it always got worse.
"Good evening, Miss Granger," Dolores Umbridge greeted, her voice saccharine, eyes gleaming with perverse satisfaction. Meanwhile, Hermione had trouble mustering the will to breathe, much less responding. She would've been shaking her head in denial were it not for the brace placed around her neck, prohibiting such movement.
Umbridge enjoyed the moment for a little longer before she made her signature coughing sound and reached into the pocket of her disgustingly pink robes, producing a parchment and a dictaquill. Dolores waved her short wand and the two objects started levitating to her left. She then focused on Hermione and smiled again.
"Given the circumstances, this will be done under field conditions. But I am sure you will have no objections, Miss Granger," she announced, confusing Hermione even more.
Dolores then coughed again and her voice became official. "Disciplinary hearing into offences committed under the Decree for the Muggleborn registration and census, by Hermione Jean Granger, currently without residence," she added the last part with a sneer even as the dictaquill made an official record of everything said. "Interrogator: Dolores Jane Umbridge, senior secretary of the Minister of Magic, Head of the Muggleborn registration commission," she said and paused as she grinned at heavily restrained Hermione kneeling before her.
"Please state your full name and date of birth for the record, Miss Granger," she asked with fake politeness.
Hermione was still stunned speechless by what was happening and failed to respond until she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. It belonged to the guard who had meanwhile moved behind her. "Answer the question, mudblood!" he hissed at her angrily.
"H-H-Hermione J-Jean Granger," she said in trembling voice as she looked into the cruel eyes of the short woman who however currently seemed to tower over her like a giant. After she managed to stutter out her date of birth as well, Umbridge continued.
"Last year, you were invited to a mandatory hearing with the Muggleborn registration commission," the woman informed her. "Why did you not attend?"
Hermione had no idea what she could possibly say to that. "I- I haven't received any invitation," she finally spoke. It was technically the truth, as by the time the Commission had been set up she had already been on the run.
"That is no fault of the Ministry," Umbridge immediately retorted. "You are obliged to report the address of your permanent residence," she informed her before adding snidely. "Seeing as you do not have a permanent residence at the moment, you were supposed to regularly check the bulletin board at the Ministry – floor two, corridor nine, section four B!" she practically spat in Hermione's face before calming and adding sweetly. "Have you done any of those things, Miss Granger?"
"No," Hermione admitted, seeing no point to insist otherwise. Had she actually shown up at the Ministry to read some bulletin board, she would've been arrested and likely killed on sight. And Umbridge damn well knew it. This whole interrogation was a mockery of common sense!
Dolores appeared pleased by her answer. She seized upon her admission, deeming Hermione guilty of contempt. The dictaquill recorded her words, intensifying Hermione's sense of helplessness. Once again, she wished to shake her head at the absurdity of it all but couldn't physically move it.
Umbridge then leaned closer and Hermione would have flinched away if not for her restraints. "The Commission has one last question for you, Miss Granger," she stated and pulled something out of her robes. Hermione was left speechless when she saw what it was – a wand, but not the short ugly one belonging to Dolores.
"Do you recognize this?" Umbridge asked with an evil sneer, swishing the wand so close to Hermione's face she felt the displaced air touching her skin.
"T- that's my wand!" Hermione cried out in anguish and tears appeared in her eyes. It was the thirst time she truly lost control of her emotions ever since Umbridge started this mockery of due process. Hermione couldn't help it. Just looking at the beautifully carved vinewood was enough to shatter her heart. After claiming the supposed Elder wand from Harry during her escape, Hermione had discarded her faithful companion of seven years without a second thought. She shouldn't have done that. Everything started going wrong for her after that.
Instead of being shocked by her sudden outburst, Umbridge smirked in triumph. "Ah, now I know you are lying," she said with confidence. "It couldn't be yours, because wands only belong to real witches… and you are not real witch, are you Miss Granger? Tell me now! Who did you steal it from?!" she aggressively questioned.
"I didn't steal it," Hermione hissed with utter contempt. "It's mine. If anything, it's been stolen from me!"
Umbridge furrowed her eyebrows at that. "That is a very serious accusation," she warned her. "By all indications, this wand is a property of Lady Greengrass," she announced and paused, pretending to be thinking for a moment. "Perhaps I should summon her to this hearing, then. She deserves the opportunity to respond to your vile lies in person," she suggested and Hermione's heart nearly stopped.
"N- NO PLEASE!" she cried in panic and her lips trembled in desperation, whispering nonsense as her brain became frozen on the frightening scenario.
In her mind, Hermione could see the pureblood witch walking into her prison cell, looking glorious and elegant as always, her heels clicking on the floor. She would briefly glance at Hermione with utter contempt. Daphne would then listen to Dolores explain the situation. Finally, she would throw a nasty look at Hermione, ordering her to recant her false accusations.
And Hermione, being unable to even keep eye contact with the blonde, much less disobey her orders would immediately do so. She would then confess to everything and anything Daphne wanted her to. Worse, she would do so while on her knees and pathetically crying, proving to the world and herself that Daphne Greengrass was superior to her in every way, exactly as she had always claimed.
Hermione desperately thought about some possible way out of this and kept coming up empty. Her thoughts were interrupted when Umbridge smirked again and leaned closer so she could better hear her mumbles. "Do you have something to say, Miss Granger?" she demanded.
Hermione, overwhelmed, slowly raised her head and looked into the cruel woman's eyes. "I… plead guilty," she said slowly. "I stole the wand… I stole magic," she said the false words, confessing to the nonexistent crimes used to destroy muggleborns like her. Hermione felt her soul wither as she did, but she couldn't face Daphne's wrath, knowing the girl would only make it worse for her once again.
Umbridge reveled in her admission. "GUILTY… by admission!" the woman yelled out the sentence, tears of happiness in her eyes mixed with sadistic delight.
Hermione was barely listening at that point, the world becoming distant and out of focus, only coming back when she felt the guard's hands on her shoulders. The dictaquill was no longer writing. "We'll now proceed with the penalty," Umbridge announced eagerly even as she pulled a vial out of her robes. It had a silvery content that Hermione could not identify and that alone terrified her out of her mind.
"I've waited for this so long, you mudblood whore!" she cried out with passion, the earlier official tone of her voice all but gone. "Buying your house from the Ministry and burning it to the ground felt really good, but this will be so much better!"
The revelation of Umbridge's vendetta against her shattered Hermione. She had been told somebody high up in the Ministry made sure everything she owned in the muggle world had been confiscated. She had no idea who that somebody was, until now. "WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE TO YOU?!" she cried out in a moment of sheer frustration.
Dolores Umbridge paused at her outburst. At first she looked at Hermione with absolute hatred, but then she started laughing, which was somehow even worse to witness.
"Lady Greengrass was absolutely right… you really are one arrogant piece of work!" she said and tsked while uncorking the vial. Right as she did that, the guard grabbed Hermione's head and forced her to lean it to her right shoulder.
"I admit this certainly wasn't my idea on what to do with you, filth," Umbridge admitted with some distant memory of displeasure before her malicious joy returned. "But given your arrogant ignorance of your crimes, it'll truly be a fitting punishment… first of many, I assure you!"
Hermione could do nothing to protect herself as the vial was placed against her left ear.
