The Empress of Magic

Chapter 106 : I must not tell Lies, even if the Gods do

At five to five Harry, after being severely reprimanded by his cousin and godbrother, set off for Umbridge's office on the third floor, his feet dragging the dust and dirty from that day across the floor behind himself, unable to let himself care when Celestia's voice haunted his mind.

,, That woman is not a witch that practices Light Magic, Harry...... I can feel and sense it whenever we are in the same room. Her Core is as dark as that of uncle Rabastan, if not darker...... For something akin to that to be possible she must deal with incredibly dangerous types of Magic... perhaps even blood magic." she had warned him, her eyes pleading with him to behave himself, lest the woman got an idea and decided to make him her newest victim of whatever her mind had come up with.

It did not take him long to get to her office, and once he did he took a cautious step forward and knocked on the door, where it only took a few moments before she called, ''Come in,'' in a sugary voice. He entered with caution, looking around.

He had known this office under three of its previous occupants.

In the days when Gilderoy Lockhart had lived here, it had been plastered in beaming portraits of himself, many of them leaning against the walls because there was no more space for them to be hung. When Lupin had occupied it, it was likely you would meet some fascinating Dark creature in a cage or tank if you came to call, books scattered across the place. In the impostor Moody's days, alias Barty Crouch Jr., it had been packed with various instruments and artifacts for the detection of wrongdoing and concealment, something that weirdly matched the former Ravenclaw.

Now, however, it looked totally unrecognizable. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each one residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large calico color kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. These were so foul that Harry stared at them, transfixed until Professor Umbridge spoke again.

,, Good evening, Mr. Potter. ''

Harry was startled and looked around. He had not noticed her 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.

He was sure he had seen one or two of Celestia's Voodoo dolls dressed exactly like her, and even then he found those creepy little dolls kinder to look at than the sight that Umbridge made.

Instead of voicing this thought though he offered her a stiff greeting, clutching the pendant of his necklace to calm himself ,, Evening, Professor Umbridge,''

,, Well, sit down,'' she said, pointing towards a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up a straight-backed chair. A piece of blank parchment lay on the table, apparently waiting for him. ,, One must be accordingly punished for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, don't you agree, Mr. Potter?"

Harry felt the blood surge to his head and heard a thumping noise in his ears. So he told 'evil, nasty, attention-seeking stones', did he now?

She 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, and his cousin's warning repeating itself in his mind like a mantra, Harry looked away from her, dropped his schoolbag beside the 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, Mr Potter. No, not with your quill,'' she added, as Harry bent down to open his bag. ''You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."