Epitome || H. Potter

EPITOME 06

"Dolores, are you really going to wear that?" Maria snorted, while somehow still managing to look ladylike and graceful as she sneered at the younger girl.

"Yes, what's wrong with it?" Dolores asked. The eleven year old was confused- there was nothing wrong with wearing  her fluffy pink cardigan with her emerald green corduroy skirt, right? After all it was the weekend and students could wear whatever they should please. Maria snorted again.

"Dolores, if you looked like a troll before, now you're too ugly to even be one of them.  I don't even think a goblin would look twice at you. Maybe a house elf?" Maria turned to her partner in crime, Cathleen Zabini, who was well known for her stunning good looks along with her reputation of dating much older men before leaving them for their younger, better looking counterparts as well as tormenting any female who she didn't idolize under the sun.

"A house elf, but only if its out of it's right mind," Cathleen said in her soft, smooth voice, narrowing her brown eyes at the short, stout girl before her. "You should thank us, Dolores. If you ever want Cornelius to look at you like he looks at Debbie, you should be on your weak little knees praying for forgiveness for what you did." Her tone grew harsher as Cathleen grew angrier, her finger slowly finding the chunk of hair that had chopped off the night before.

"H- how do you know  about Cornelius?" Dolores asked, blushing as pink as the bow in her  messy hair. Catheen didn't answer the question, but Maria continued to taunt her.

"I think it's cute- a little firstie Slytherin crushing on a seventh year Puff who's dating a Ravenclaw already," Maria said, her smirk growing as she spoke to Cathleen. "Maybe you should wear that, Dolores. It's the best way to get his attention unless you're willing to pull out your boobs in the Great Hall. Oh wait! You don't have any!" Maria and Cathleen walked off, leaving Dolores stewing in her anger, almost ready to scream. She would get Maria back, even i it took her twenty years to do so. And revenge would never taste sweeter.

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Astrid sat down next to Harry and across from Ron and Hermione as they walked into Umbridge's class, well before she was there, but along with most of the rest of class. No one knew how strict she was going to be, so it was better to guess you were going to have a Professor Snape rather than a Professor Vector, who didn't even so much as glance at you if you walked into class five minutes before the final bell. The bell gave a little tingling ring and Umbridge walked into class, fluffy cardigan, pink bow and pink leather handbag in her hand, which she set down on the desk before turning around and smiling at the class, her eyes swooping over Harry and Astrid with vile intent. 

"Good afternoon, class!" She called brightly, her toadlike smile stretched over her wide, loose face. The response she received from the class was a mumble. She tsked before shaking her head. "Lets try that again, shall we? When I say 'Good afternoon', I expect to hear 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge', right away. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," the class chanted back dully. The class was only three minutes in and they were already tired of being treated like primary schoolers. 

"Good!" Umbridge said, smiling her awful smile again and clapping her hands together. "Now, on with today's lesson. O-W-Ls! OWLs! Or your Ordinary Wizarding Levels. Now, you all have had a spotty history in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Only Professor Quirrell was teaching things that were ministry approved, not to mention-" Umbridge gave a shudder- "filthy half breeds."

"If you're talking about Professor Lupin, he was the best teacher we've ever had!" Dean Thomas called out.

"What is your name?" Professor Umbridge asked, her voice sickeningly sweet.