❝Every day she felt like a monster walking among the innocent, felt as if she were trapped on the other side of a locked door.❞
[prisoner of azkaban, deathly hallows]
[metanoia series, book three]
[minor oc x angelina j...
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( chapter xxviii. I WILL NOT SLANDER )
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Hogwarts had changed since the last year, and everyone had noticed. It was hard not to, with the ending of last year in a tragedy that left everyone grieving and wondering why they had been so hyped up about the event before, and now there was a woman in pink who practically ruled the halls. Dolores Umbridge was her name, and she held her head high with pride everywhere she walked with a prime – but grievous – smile on her face as she stared at children.
It was obvious that she held no love for her position at Hogwarts, even more distinguishable her hatred to children. No, Dolores Umbridge much preferred her spot in the Ministry sitting with the council and deciding the fates of criminals – not looking at fickle children who didn't know how to behave. Children that told lies and said that they were attacked by Dementors for no reason over summer, children who played pranks on others because it made them happy, and children that there not entirely witches or wizards.
But Dolores Umbridge did stand children who never spoke, who never questioned her authority but rather helped her overthrow the kingdom of Hogwarts. Those were nice, pliable children who knew their place and how to better themselves – just as she had done in the Ministry. These children did not stand in her path to power while those who had fun and asked questions, wanted to actually learn in class, did. Dolores hated those children and she wanted to shape them into the perfect child.
No, not through kind manipulation, not by gaining a friendship and mentoring them – that was much too painful for Dolores. She wouldn't be able to stand them long enough to do that, but pain, physical punishment...that sounded much nicer. It was easier and taught the children quickly who was in charge and who they should not question, because she had the power at Hogwarts not them. They were fickle students who needed to learn a lesson.
Everyone had learned this in the Great Hall at the Welcoming Feast on the night of return to Hogwarts. It was easy to see how she radiated from having all eyes on her, the power on her, and how she so easily took it from Dumbledore without batting an eyelash – without anyone to tell her off. Dolores lived for it, and she wanted more. Greed did that.
However, the children did not know how terrible the woman could be until they entered her class for the first time. They could imagine it, but no one could think of the atrocities that she would be teaching when, as directed by their schedules, they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom – a class taught now by Dolores Umbridge.
Even Calypso Black, the girl born from tragedies, did not think it would be so horrible. She knew she had the tendency to be overdramatic, much like her beloved uncle, but this was no acting. This was not playing up what she had heard come from that woman's lips. She was the victim of it, she had heard it with her own ears when no one else was around to hear. The students would believe her, at least some would, because they had witnessed the same thing. The professors might console her but they could do nothing, at hers and the Ministry's mercy.
