SACRIFICE ⟶ h. granger

15;

Ophiuchus's homelife had never exactly been simple. The constant tug of war to have him as a ward began as soon as his father was sentenced to Azkaban. First between his mother and Walburga Black. And second the ever-going rift between Andromeda and Narcissa. While all of his guardianship rights rested with Andy, it was stated clearly in the Ministry's verdict that he was to have mandatory visits to the Malfoy Manor till he came of age. 

The Elmore family too had some point, before they packed up and moved to France following the deaths of his uncle Edward Elmore and maternal grandparents.  Ophiuchus had never seen them and from the stories he had heard, had no intentions of ever wasting his money to visit them in Paris. 

"Come in," Professor Umbridge's sugary voice interrupted his stray train of thought. 

Harry and Ophiuchus exchanged another glance, this time expressing a mutual dislike for their new professor and they entered through the door cautiously, looking around.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter. Mr. Black." Ophiuchus stared at a particularly ugly cat hissing at him from its plate. Ophiuchus had been unable to separate her from the wallpaper at first because she was wearing a luridly flowered set of robes that blended only too well with the tablecloth on the desk behind her. In the same ugly pink shade as everything else in the room. 

"Evening, Professor Umbridge," Ophiuchus and Harry chorused, stiffly.

"Well, sit down," she said, pointing towards a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up two straight-backed chairs. Two pieces of blank parchment lay on the table, apparently waiting for them.

Ophiuchus shook his head, seeing this as infinitely better than the medieval torture machines he had been expecting and promptly takes a seat. 

"Er," said Harry, without moving. "Professor Umbridge. Er - before we start, I - I wanted to askyou a... a favor."

Her bulging eyes narrowed.

"Oh, yes?"

"Well, I'm... I'm in the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And I was supposed to be at the tryouts forthe new Keeper at five o'clock on Friday and I was - was wondering whether I could skipdetention that night and do it - do it another night... instead..."

Ophiuchus knew long before Harry reached the end of his sentence that it was no good. As if a woman like Dolores Umbridge would do people favours. She would, if it happened to draw her some sort of power. 

"Oh, no," said Umbridge, smiling so widely that she looked as though she had just swallowed a particularly juicy fly. "Oh, no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty,attention-seeking stories, Mr. Potter, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit theguilty one's convenience. No, you will come here at five o'clock tomorrow, and the next day,and on Friday too, and you will do your detentions as planned. I think it rather a good thing thatyou are missing something you really want to do. It ought to reinforce the lesson I am trying toteach you."

If that were the case, then where was Rita Skeeter's punishment? Or the Minister's? Or Daily Prophet's? Ophiuchus himself could point out minimum or fourteen cases of them spreading evil, nasty, 'attention-seeking' stories. The most recent one being on Potter a couple of weeks ago. 

Umbridge was watching him with her head slightly to one side, still smiling widely, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking and was waiting to see whether he would start shouting again. With a massive effort, Harry looked away from her, dropped his schoolbag beside the empty straight-backed chair and sat down.

"There," said Umbridge sweetly, "we're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me No, not with your quills," sheadded, as both Ophiuchus and Harry bent down to open their bags. "You're going to be using a rather special ones of mine. Here you are."