➵ Choice ➵ {DM and HP)

➵ Chapter 7 ➵

Eloise Foster

⇝ ⇝ ⇝ ⇝ ⇝ ⇝ ⇝ ⇝ ⇝ ⇝

"Good luck!" Quinn calls after me as I walk out of the Great Hall after dinner. "Don't die!"

I roll my eyes at her and yell back, "I'll try my best!"

I start walking down the hallways and the chatter from the Great Hall dims to white noise behind me. The only sound is my soft footsteps echoing around the quiet stony corridors. 

I shake my head as I turn a corner. It's only the first day and I already have detention. This year is going great so far. 

I was dumb to stand up to Umbridge. I wouldn't normally do such a thing, and if I had used my brain, I wouldn't have.  I am determined to hold my tongue this time. I have to, or I risk getting another detention.

I wonder what we'll have to do?

Clean her office? Sort through some student files? Or maybe have to organize her bright pink closet?

This thought makes me laugh out loud just as I arrive at Umbridge's office. 

I wipe the smile off my face and take a breath, before pushing open the oak door.

I almost gag. 

If I thought Umbridge's outfits were bad, her office is a hundred times worse. The walls, the the drapes even the chimney, are all different shades of vomit worthy pink. Round painted plates line the walls, their painted inhabitants meowing and hissing as I enter the room. In the center of the room sits a beautifully carved desk, decorated with delicate pink tea cups and a white lace covering. It all seems so perfect and so in place, and as my eyes roam the room, they find the owner.

Umbridge's sits perched in a throne like chair, her perfectly coiffed curls and regal manner remind me very much of the Queen. Although this queen has a venomous smile and beady little eyes, eager to rip you to shreds. She stirs a cup of tea casually, the tinkling of spoon against cup filling the quiet room. 

Two chairs sit waiting across from Umbridge and in one, sits the lean figure of Harry Potter. 

He turns when I enter and his green eyes find mine, filled with anxiety. I give him a nod, unsure of what else to do and I bring my eyes back to the dark, malicious ones sitting in the throne. 

"Ah, Miss Foster, how kind of you to join us," she breaths in with annoyance. "10 minutes late."

I bite back the urge to utter the stinging remark waiting on my tongue and sit quickly in the seat next to Harry. I glance at him and see his leafy eyes watching me. He quickly pulls his eyes back to Umbridge when he notices my raised eyebrow, his cheeks pinking slightly with embarrassment. 

"Now, you both understand why you are here, so no need for me to explain." Umbridge starts, her high voice bringing my gaze back to her squashed face. "You will be doing lines for me today. Both of you will write, I must not tell lies."

I glance at Harry in confusion and he shrugs slightly, just as confused as I am. I start to reach for my book bag to pull out my quill, but I stop when Umbridge lets out a tutting sound. 

"Oh, no need to pull out your quill, you'll be using a rather special one of mine."

I feel my stomach turn at her words. This won't be good.

She holds out two perfectly normal looking black quills, but I know they are anything but. We each take one and I look around for the ink, seeing none. 

"Professor," I say, suppressing the hint of sarcasm that wants to tag along. "You haven't given us any ink."

She pours some sugar in her tea as she says with a malicious grin, "Oh, you won't be needing any."