Vulnerability || George Weasley

A Vision Of Pink

Phoenix shook her head at the twins and Lee's actions before she helped the first year to her feet and into a chair beside the fire.

"Excellent!"

"It is NOT excellent!" Hermione yelled, grabbing both clipboard and paper bag from Fred's hands.

"Course it is," Fred retaliated, looking as though he was losing his patience. "They're alive, aren't they?"

"Fred," Phoenix warned, but Fred ignored her.

"You can't do this," said Hermione, squaring her shoulders slightly so that the twins were made to look down at her Prefect Badge. "What if you made one of them really ill?"

"We're not going to make them ill," said George, a lot more gently than Fred. "We've already tested them all on ourselves, this is just to see if everyone reacts the same–"

Hermione was steeling herself, her nostrils flaring dangerously. "If you don't stop doing it, I'm going to–"

Fred chuckled, raising his eyebrows at the Prefect, "Put us in detention?"

"Make us write lines?" George smirked.

Hermione clicked her tongue against the root of her mouth before she stood to her full height (which didn't do very much as the twins were so damn tall), her brown eyes were narrowed darkly.

"No," Hermione was quivering with rage, "But I will write to your mother."

Phoenix had never seen Fred and George Weasley look so concerned. Fred's eyes were wide, he looked too afraid to utter a single word and George was staring at Phoenix as though expecting her to help them, which of course, she didn't.

Hermione, now grinning in triumphant, forced the clipboard and paper bag back into Fred's hands and returned to her chair beside the fire, a slight spring in her step.

Dolores Umbridge looked rather odd sat in the teacher's desk in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Her fluffy pink cardigan and black velvet bow looked terribly out of place in the dark classroom, where the only light came from the heavy, iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

Phoenix and Angelina sat in the very middle of the class, they were not entirely convinced that Umbridge was a teacher they wished to be near during their lessons. The class was unusually quiet as they all got seated, they were all rather wary of Umbridge. Aside from Fred and George that was, who waltzed into the classroom confidently, laughing with one another and choosing one of the tables at the very front of the class.

Umbridge did not say anything to the twins about their noise levels, though she seemed to be surveying them very closely, her pouchy eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"Good morning," she said, when the whole class had sat down.

An unenthusiastic murmur of 'good morning' swept across the classroom.

"Tut, tut," Professor Umbridge simpered. "That simply won't do! I wish for you, please, to reply 'Good morning, Professor Umbridge'. One more time then, please."

Phoenix gritted her teeth and reframed from rolling her eyes.

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge," they all chorused back, Fred and George being the most enthusiastic – almost too enthusiastic.

"That was much better," said Umbridge in the same overly sweet voice. "Wands away and quills out, please."

The phrase 'wands away' meant they were in for one very dull lesson. Wand work was crucial in Defence and written work was not as important and counted towards a smaller part of their final NEWT grade. Phoenix and Angelina shared a gloomy look, shoving their wands back into their bags and pulling out quills, ink and parchment.