Tʜᴇ Dᴀʀᴋ Lᴏʀᴅ's Aɴɢᴇʟ | Tom Riddle √

37: A Punishment with Pink Quills

"You okay, Harry?" Cassiopeia was concerned as both of them reached Umbridge's office. His body was tense, and his mind was clearly stressed. He nodded in response.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this," Harry stated, making Cassiopeia chuckle. She gently hit his upper arm.

"You aren't, Harry," Cassiopeia assured him. "Let's just say that pinkish woman really got on our nerves."

"Shh," Harry hushed her as they approached Umbridge's door. Cassiopeia rolled her eyes at him but cooperated, staying quiet.

"Come in," Umbridge's voice beckoned.

Harry opened the door and entered first, Cassiopeia following behind.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter, Miss. Black," Umbridge greeted nonchalantly. Cassiopeia's eyes wandered around the room, taking in the overwhelming pink decor. She noticed plates on the wall with meowing cats – an aesthetic she found utterly revolting. All pink, just pink.

"Sit," Umbridge gestured, smiling. Both of them took their seats beside each other. "You're going to be doing some lines for me today, Mr. Potter, Miss. Black."

Without saying anything, both of them reached for their quills in their bags, but Umbridge stopped them. "No, not with your quills. You're going to be using a rather special one of mine."

Umbridge stood and handed them each a quill. Cassiopeia examined the quill, wondering what made it special. She hoped it wasn't filled with pink ink – she had already had enough of that.

"I want you to write, 'I must not tell lies,'" Umbridge instructed, standing behind Harry. Then she turned her attention to Cassiopeia. "And, Miss. Black, I want you to write, 'I must not raise my voice unevenly.'"

Harry asked the question that was on Cassiopeia's mind. "How many times?"

"Well, let's say for as long as it takes for the message to sink in," Umbridge replied.

Harry raised another concern, "You haven't given us any ink."

"Oh, you won't need any ink," Umbridge mockingly responded, leaving both Harry and Cassiopeia puzzled. They looked at each other and began to write as instructed.

As Cassiopeia wrote the first line, she quickly noticed that the ink was blood-red. When she wrote the second line, her hand started to itch, as if someone was scratching the back of it. She glanced at her hand, but the writing continued to appear on her skin. The pain was stinging, making her groan slightly.

Cassiopeia noticed that Harry was experiencing the same pain. The sentences were being etched into his hand as well. Umbridge walked toward them, wearing a concerned look – or at least pretending to.

"Yes?" She inquired, her eyes fixed on Harry.

"Nothing," Harry replied, maintaining eye contact with her. When she shifted her gaze to Cassiopeia, she rolled her eyes before looking back down at her scarred hand. It hurt quite a bit.

"That's right," Umbridge said. "Because, you know, deep down, you deserve to be punished, don't you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry remained silent, his gaze fixed on Umbridge. She smiled, but her intentions remained unclear.

---

"I really despise that woman," Cassiopeia lamented as they walked toward the Slytherin Dungeon. Harry had insisted on walking her back, despite her initial protests.

"She's a liar," Harry remarked, shaking his head.

"Finally, someone who shares my thoughts," Cassiopeia chuckled, and Harry joined in. They had reached the Dungeon entrance, and Cassiopeia knew it was best for her to proceed alone.