Uncle Seb

The Pink Toad of Hogwarts

The fifth year of Harry's school year at Hogwarts had just begun and already he wanted to quiet. First and for most NO ONE even bothered to acknowledge that the Dark Lord was back besides him and his friends. And second (which in his opinion was the worst) was there was a women from the Ministry that was filling in the dark arts post in the school. Harry and his friend tried their very best to avoid her, but it seemed she tried to follow them and make their lives a living nightmare. Everywhere they turned, she seemed to be right around the corner. No matter what they did, she tried to take points from them. Once, all Harry did was slam the door shut to hard and she took five points from Gryffindor for it. He thought he would be in trouble with his dad for it but Severus didn't even question it. It got so bad, eventually the him, Hermione, Ron and Draco spent all their free time out by the lake reading. That's all they could do so they could stay out of her sight. But even that wouldn't prevent them all from getting a detention. Harry had become fed up with no one believing the Dark Lord was back and lost it. So happened Umbridge was around the corner and gave him a detention for that night. He was so screwed with his father.

Truth have it Severus was quite feed up with this pink toad himself. The first day she was in the Great Hall Severus stared at her with distaste. Who in their right mind would wear so much pink? He hoped to Merlin that she wouldn't sit next to him, but lack hace it she did. When she stood up to talk it took everything he had not to cringe and wince at the sound. He tried to ignore her, but she would drop in on some of his classes. Didn't she have her own to teach instead of bothering him? Honestly that woman had some nerve. One day, while he was in the middle of teaching she had the guts to just flat out question him. He was so irritated he was close to getting a student over the head with a text book. But he held it in. Harry came down that night explaining how she took points because he accidentally closed a door to hard. Severus was losing his patience with that woman. But what really set him off was one day he hugged Harry. Now, to the rest of the castle that was nothing knew. Everyone knew Severus was Harry's father now, everyone except the woman in pink of course. She flat out screamed he was a pedophile. She wouldn't drop the subject until he went to the ministry and showed her Harry's identification papers proving he was now legally Harry's father. He was close to strangling someone.

On the night of Harry's detention Harry made his way down to Umbridge's office. He silently made his way through the halls until he found it. He softly knocked on it three times.

"Come in," he heard from inside. He opened the door and found throughout the whole room there was pink, and cat plates. Each cat had its own personality but they were all meowing. She didn't look up from her tea cup, which was oddly blue, as she was adding sugar. A lot of sugar.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. Sit." she said as she pointed to a big pink fluffy chair. He hesitant sat down and a table appeared before him. On this table was a piece of parchment and a quill.

"For your punishment you must write 'I must not tell lies' three hundred times." Harry let out a quiet sigha and picked up the quill when he noticed something.

"Um... Professor there is no ink," he told her. She just gave him a very toothy smile.

"Don't worry about it. It's a special quill. Just write," she instructed him. Harry put the tip of the quill on the page and began writing. Expecting nothing to happen, but found as he wrote ink flowed onto the page. Red ink. After about ten lines he felt a burning sensation on his hand. He turned it over to find the words he had been writing were now being embedded into his skin. Then he realized that this wasn't red ink at all, but his own blood. He began to write at a slower pace as he didn't want to lose so much blood quickly. Buy a hundred lines he felt a little weak, he took a small break before starting up again. Now by two hundred we wasn't sure he was going to make it to three hundred, but he pushed on anyways. Every sentence he wrote he got closer to being finished or passing out.