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( 𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔦𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝖘𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 ) — battle of the department of mysteries
It was to nobody's surprise that Evangeline had been sacked the following day.
Umbridge took great satisfaction in making a spectacle of the whole situation, although her nonchalant demeanor wasn't fooling anybody for two reasons: not only had all the fifth years had seen her assaulted, but the bright bruises blooming over her skin were a tell-tale sign.
The Rosier girl was more than pleased to leave. She had packed up her bags at once, said goodbye to her students, had one last public confrontation with the toad-like woman, and left for Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.
''We've been over this, Sirius,'' Remus sighed, preparing some potions for the brunette's hand. ''Yes, Eve punched that poor excuse for a human.''
''And slapped and kicked,'' the Black man trilled, clapping the pure-blood witch on the shoulder. ''I feel like a proud father, honest to God.''
''What is God?'' She asked, sat at the dining room table with a cup of tea.
''The topic of a conversation we'll be having another day,'' the Lupin man summarised, taking a seat beside her. ''Give me your hand.''
He dabbed at the minor injuries endlessly, taking great care and apologising profusely after every wince. Sirius watched the scene with a knowing smirk; there had been a great deal of conversations and confessions to do with Evangeline ever since the Christmas holidays.
''You'll have plenty of time, now that you're out of a job,'' he agreed. ''Welcome to the club of the idle, Rosier.''
''Not by choice, Sirius.''
''Not the point, Remus.''
''I am just worried about Harry,'' she confessed. ''I was there to watch over him, and now that I have got myself sacked . . . ''
''We've still got Snivellus,'' Sirius spat, kicking his legs up on to the table. ''If push comes to shove, he'll have no choice but to keep us updated — Dumbledore's orders.''
