The Confession || George Weasley

Scene 28- A Black One

*Anne's Prov*

The more I think about Umbridge the lesser she makes sense. 

Every thought leads to the conclusion that she must have some sort of mental disability. That's the only way she would act like she does. Because what professor makes their students write with a blood quill? What professor uses their students to get information? What professor uses curses on students in order to make them follow the rules? Does she do that to other people as well? Or just to George and me? Well she never used that spell on him, that she used on me, however, that doesn't mean that other students might be safe.

Biting my lower lip raw, I stare at my parchment in front of me. The Slytherin common room is almost empty, just two older students and some first years sit on the couches in front of the fire place, talking very quietly to each other, scared that they could anger us with their presence.

It just doesn't make sense why she has me as a target? Potter would make perfectly sense. Lovegood would make sense. Even George and his brother make perfectly sense. But why me? In all of my years in Hogwarts I never got into any trouble at all. Well not into any major trouble at least.

She always blames my father. The one who just does his work in the pub. What if she has something against me because of Dad? But why would she let that out on me? She should be capable of seeing that I'm certainly not my father and I couldn't be involved in whatever he does that angers her so much. He just works in a dirty pub, with questionable costumers and even worse service and sometimes Dumbledore shows up and disappears somewhere and pops up later again.

He uses our pub as apparation spot, to get unnoticed from A to B, without people getting too suspicious. I have enough sense in my mind, to not talk about that. But to be mad at me, because Dumbledore chooses our pub can't be the solution, that's just pathetic.

Is it too much to ask, for an answer to at least one question? I take a deep breath and lean back in my chair. Some fellow Slytherin's come into the common room from their last lessons and settle into their places, walk past me to the common rooms or give me dirty looks while doing so. Since they found out I have something with Weasley, which honestly wasn't very hard to find out, some of them, who know me, look at me a bit differently. Kind of a bit surprised and disgusted at the same time. I pack my books and inkwell away and stand up.

The back of my hand itches. Scars seeable on it, demanding to be cut open again. I scratch over my palm and hope to ease the pressure a bit. Meanwhile George looks for a way to stop it all, I don't know if I want to stop this. It feels good. Every scratch feels good and when I see blood dripping of my palm onto the table, it calms me. I deserve this and if that stops, I would move onto other things I swore to never repeat but look where I am now.

"We need to talk to our head teachers about it," George says one morning when we were walking towards Charms. 

I look at the back of my hand very carefully. 

"If we both talk to McGonagall and Snape about this, I'm sure they'll do something against it. Even Snape would think that this isn't the right way."

I don't respond, is there a way to get out of her punishments? 

"We have to do this one month long Anne, I'm not fond of dealing with this any longer and when we show them what she does and that she uses potions on her students, they have to do something against this. Umbridge will have to stop then." George looks down at me, expectantly, as if his word would sway me. 

Oh if he knew that I don't have anything against the pain. I know he has and that's just unfair towards him. 

"I'll talk to Snape about it."