Have a Biscuit

Minerva McGonagall leaned back in her office chair. The day had been atrocious- first some third years had set fire to her hat, then a double period with some Slytherin seventh years (what a nightmare), and then that awful toad had put out yet another "educational" decree, this time banning all student groups without the knowledge of the so-called High Inquisitor. 

Honestly, McGonagall thought to herself. Tartan is fine. She could just wear black robes like the rest of us.  But all that pink? You'll have to forgive the professor for the random thoughts, but it had been a very long day. No wonder all the students hate-

"Hem, hem."

Speak of the devil. The very toad herself was leaning against McGonagall's office door, wearing a hot pink jumper and smiling broadly. Minerva wondered briefly when the last time jumpers were in style was and why Umbridge's had to be such an offensive color. 

"So, Professor," the Hogwarts High Inquisitor and Empress of All Things Pink simpered, "I suppose you've heard of the new decree." 

"Yes." McGonagall replied shortly through gritted teeth. 

"Lovely. May I come in for a chat?" Without waiting for any sort of answer, Umbridge sat down in a chair in front of McGonagall's desk and began a rant about final exams but eventually just turned into a seemingly neverending tirade about "unruly students" and "darling Cornelius" and "this horrid dress code, I mean to say, couldn't there be a bit of pink in those cloaks, perhaps in the lining, or-"

"Would you care for a biscuit?" McGonagall interrupted, smiling graciously and offering a tartan tin of Ginger Newts to her offender. Fortunately, the High Inquisitor didn't notice the evil glint in her coworker's eyes. 

Minerva McGonagall was rather proud of many things: she was an Animagus, Head of Gryffindor House, and had managed to console most of her fellow teachers over the years during exam time. But if she had to pick one thing above all that she was proud of, she would have to say that it was her biscuits. 

They weren't just any biscuits. Professor McGonagall's Ginger Newts were charmed to soothe panicking students, make disobedient ones follow the rules, and make the downright odd ones stop flirting with her. 

Needless to say, this last option had only been used for Sirius Black. 

Anyway, Minerva had enchanted the cookies to aid her in any way, depending on the person. And in Umbridge's case, McGonagall just wanted her to leave so she could go back to grading papers magically in peace. 

As the toad finished her Ginger Newt, a glazed look came over her face and her soliloquy finally stopped. 

"Professor Umbridge, don't you think you should be going?" McGonagall asked pointedly. 

"Oh, yes!" Umbridge squealed excitedly. Minerva raised her eyebrows. The biscuits had different effects on everybody, but this was a new one. "I must depart, Minerva! To plan more ugly pink outfits and sharpen my pens! Oh, the poor innocent first years! I'll have such fun torturing them... Ta-ta!" With that, she skipped out the door and into the corridor. 

Torturing people? McGonagall thought. She most likely means with all that pink. It really does offend the eyes, along with those horrible bows-

"Professor?" 

Oh, not again. 

Filch was standing greasily by the doorway, with Mrs. Norris winding her way around his ankles. 

McGonagall made an effort to sit up straight before reaching for the tin. 

"Argus, always a pleasure. May I offer you a biscuit?" 

Thanks so much for reading! All rights to JK Rowling.