The blessed girl's destiny (a harry potter fanfiction)

Chapter 7

"What the hell was that?" Fred's exclamation caught everyone's attention in the corridor leading to the Great Hall. He and George had tried grilling Vanessa in Charms class, but Professor Flitwick had quickly silenced them. Now, joined by Lee—who was rapidly caught up by George on Vanessa's involvement in the explosion—they bombarded her with questions, pun intended.

"I don't know what you mean," Vanessa attempted, not really wanting to admit she'd caused a Slytherin boy's potion to explode in public, especially now at the Great Hall entrance. And the twins weren't exactly quiet.

"Oh, come on, Vanessa! You said you'd tell us!" Fred whined, following her to their seats for lunch. He was right—she had promised to spill the details. After all, they had saved her from getting in trouble.

"Okay, so—" she started, only to be interrupted by Angelina Johnson.

"Did you guys hear? Riddle's potion exploded just as he was packing up!" With each word, the twins and Lee's faces grew increasingly shocked. "Funniest part was that Snape was there. He just looked the other way and walked out like he didn't hear a thing!" Angelina cackled, missing the boys' stunned expressions as she turned back to her friends.

Once she was gone, the boys slowly turned their heads back to Vanessa.

"You sabotaged Riddle's potion?"

"Yeah... why?" she asked, laughing a little awkwardly at their stunned expressions.

"Do you know who Riddle is?" When she shook her head, Lee continued, "He's You-Know-Who's son."

Well, shit.

Vanessa's thoughts raced. She had sabotaged Riddle's potion and made an enemy of the Dark Lord's son—the same man who murdered her mother. But surely, if Hogwarts had accepted him, he couldn't be that bad... right? She voiced her doubts to the boys.

"He's not exactly the jolliest guy either," George quipped, trying to lighten the mood. They moved on to light-hearted topics, betting on how long it would take Snape to give Riddle detention. But Vanessa couldn't stop wondering. Surely, he wasn't that bad... right?

—

Vanessa was late again. And before anyone got the wrong idea, she had been on time to every class so far this week. But Wednesday morning brought a particularly bad panic attack after an especially nasty nightmare, and now every tick of the clock heightened her anxiety. She had Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the new teacher was rumored to be particularly... unpleasant.

Out of breath, she opened the door, mentally preparing her excuse as she was met by a woman who, in Vanessa's opinion, had to have a toad somewhere in her family tree.

"Sorry, Professor, I got lost in the castle. The stairs kept taking me to the third floor," she said, trying to appear flustered.

"I see," the professor replied, her voice deceptively sweet. "I understand. Please, have a seat."

Suspicious of her easy pass, Vanessa sat cautiously, taking out her wand and book—without noticing that nobody else had their wand out.

"Miss Taylor, is it? Please read aloud the passage on boggarts by Galatea Merrythought."

Vanessa's eyes widened, realizing she had no idea where the passage was and had no time to find it. Glancing at her classmates' books for a hint, she stalled.

"I see you haven't opened your book yet, and you have your wand out," Umbridge's voice oozed sarcasm. "Well, I suppose that's detention for you, Miss Taylor. Remind me at the end of class to give you your detention slip."

Vanessa spent the rest of the class fuming. She hadn't expected to get along with Umbridge, but this...

—

When it came time for detention, Vanessa steeled herself, knowing Umbridge's punishment would likely be twisted. As she stepped into the office, she was met with walls plastered in bright pink—a color somehow more disturbing than comforting in Umbridge's hands.

"Ah, Miss Taylor, so pleased you could make it," Umbridge greeted her with that horrid, squeaky voice. "Now, let's work on breaking your dreadful habit of tardiness."

Umbridge pointed to a desk where a piece of parchment and an odd, red quill awaited. Reluctantly, Vanessa sat, confused by the lack of ink.

"You'll be writing, 'I shall be disciplined and punctual,'" Umbridge instructed, her smile sickly sweet.

"How many times?" Vanessa asked, expecting an absurd number.

"Oh, as many as it takes for the lesson to sink in."

Vanessa shrugged and began writing, only to feel a sudden, searing pain across her hand. She looked down to see blood staining the parchment. Realization dawned on her—Umbridge had given her a cursed quill.

Suppressing a scream, Vanessa shot a glare at Umbridge, who only smirked in satisfaction. Determined not to show weakness, Vanessa continued writing, even as her hand throbbed and her head swam with pain. Only, instead of copying Umbridge's line, she scrawled, "Fuck you, Umbitch."

When she finished, Umbridge approached, clearly eager to dismiss her. "I think that will be enough for now."

Vanessa packed up quickly, eager to escape. But just before leaving, she cast a discreet charm on the parchment. As soon as she was clear of the room, a scream echoed from within.

Seconds before, the words Vanessa had written had transferred to Umbridge's hand. If Umbridge was going to make herself Vanessa's enemy, she was going to get a taste of her own medicine.