V. Detention With Umbridge

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You barely had half the mind to cast a muffliato over Regulus' portrait to prevent him from hearing the chaos around you before you were crowded with a few other D.A. members by Draco. The Inquisitorial Squad surrounds you all, penning you in, as Umbridge continues to walk ahead, a pleased smile painting her face.

As soon as you're through the threshold of the DADA classroom, Goyle slams the doors closed, leaving your group of troublemakers with a gleeful Umbridge.

Her grins grow impossibly wider, as she happily begins talking, "Now, now students. Take a seat. Today, you will be writing lines as a punishment for your insubordinate behavior."

You see Harry cringe at her words and the blood starts to drain from your face. You had heard whispers in dark alcoves of the castle about her barbarous detentions, and now it seemed you would be experiencing it firsthand.

Good thing you decided to keep Regulus in the dark about this. You would have liked to leave him in your dorm like you usually did when you went to class, but Umbridge did not delay in bringing down her iron fist.

Bloody sadist.

You felt one of the twins place their hands on your shoulders, steering you towards a desk, only dropping down defiantly in the seat next to yours once you were sat.

Still dazed, you foggily make out how Umbridge levitates numerous quills onto all the desks, followed by a small cut of parchment. Regulus' portrait seemed to almost burn in your pocket as you could feel the faint stinging of panic cut through your nerves.

Satisfied with everyone's complacency, Umbridge rests atop an ornate chair before chirping out your directions, "Now, you will all write 'I must obey the rules' until the words sink in."

The cold sweat that breaks out on your body makes the room spin impossibly faster. Everyone was tense in their seats, a mixture of fury and fear permeating through the air.

You didn't know why you were panicking. You had faced far worse in the past. But, in a way, you were almost ashamed. You were going to be marked. Tainted. Tainted by someone as weak as Umbridge. You were at the complete mercy of a foe you and your friends underestimated.

You all became too sloppy, careless. You were too comfortable, too naive. You would be sure to never make that mistake again.

Taking in a deep breath, you picked up the quill that felt three times its normal weight in your hand, and began to write. The room began to fill with quiet hisses and muffled exclamations of surprise by those who were not quite aware of the darker nature of the punishment.

This was definitely illegal.

Your grip on the quill tightened impossibly, but the cursed object remained firm, unwilling to bend or break. As you continued writing, your rested hand began to burn as the words started to carve themselves into your flesh.

The penmanship was unmistakably yours, and in a weird way it was relieving. You were being marked, but at least it wouldn't be by Umbridge's swirly penmanship.

Steeling your nerves, you risk a glance at the front of the classroom, your hand stinging more at the sight of a pleased Umbridge enjoying a cup of tea on her throne. Feeling a stare aimed at the side of your head, you glance over and make eye contact with George who seems to see something on your face that has him shooting a scowl at the pink toad.

Feeling reassured by your friend's unrelenting bravery, you continue to write, finally finishing off the phrase. A drop of blood dribbles from around the word 'obey', the word carved slightly deeper in your skin than the rest. It appeared that in your stupor of staring at Umbridge, you slowed down in your writing.

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐍  | Regulus Black x ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now