Another Fight

Chapter Three

I sit down in DADA classroom, all the way in the back. No one wants to be near the pink toad. She enters, from the back, smiling. She charms the chalk to write what she says.

"Ordinary Wizarding Level. O. W. L. Or more commonly known as O.W.Ls. Study hard, you'll succeed. Fail to do so, the consequences will be dire. Now I have noticed your learning has been choppy, so I have been provided with a more stable lesson plan."

Textbooks hand themselves out to every student. My jaw drops when I see it says that it's for beginners. Hahaha. No. I have personally faced Voldemort. Death Eaters. A werewolf. A basilisk. And dementors. I think I am passed this level.

"There's nothing about learning spells," Hermione points out.

"And why would you need to know spells," the bloody pink toad sings.

"To protect ourselves," I snap.

"And who would want to hurt kids?"

"I don't know," Harry sarcastically says. "Maybe Voldemort."

"Voldemort is not back," Umbridge snaps.

"So Cedric dropped dead?" I ask. "Cause that's not how I remember that night. Do you remember that night like that Harry?"

"ENOUGH. Mr. Diggory's death was an accident."

"Stop denying it," I stand up on the desk and point at the toad. "It's idiots like you in the Ministry that is going to get everyone killed. It is beyond obvious that he's back. It's your job to teach us to fight. So we can rally together against the one many call 'the Dark Lord'."

People start clapping and I bow dramatically.

"Detention Miss Weasley," Umbridge snaps. Her face is a bright red, ruining her pink style.

"Whatever," I reply as I sit by Draco.

"She has a point," Harry states.

"Detention Mr. Potter."

¤

I walk into the pink toad's office. This place is either pink or cats. All except one picture of the Minister. The fire is even pink, which is unnatural, even for those with magic.

"Sit," Umbridge orders, not looking up from her papers. I sit at the desk across from her's. "You'll be writing lines for me today. I want you to write 'I shall not riot' until it sinks in. Here you go."

She hands me a parchment and a quill.

"Don't I need ink?" I question her.

"Not this one."

I roll my eyes and start writing down the sentence. I shall not riot. I shall not riot. I shall not riot. My left hand starts to sting and I look to see words engraved in my hand. Worse is it is in my handwriting. I look at Umbridge, but she is not paying attention to me. I roll my eyes and look back at the piece of paper. The wores are a bright, blood red ink. Clearly it is my blood. A barbaric punishment.

"You can go," Umbridge finally tells me. I get up and walk to the Slytherin common room. Draco is sitting on the couch, waiting for me. Or so I thought until Parkinson sits on his lap. My jaw drops and I gasp.

"Abi," he says shocked. He pushes Parkinson off his lap and stands up. I cover my mouth in shock, trying not to cry.

"Why?" I manage.

"Abi... I can... What happened to your hand?"

He tries to grab my left hand, but I pull away quickly. I run upstairs, to the girls' dorm. I bury my face into my pillow and just cry myself to sleep.