I just changed the title from something very lame and cliche to something that was recommended by a reader.
Trigger warning : forced self harm.
It was quiet in Ms. Umbridge's room when the two best friends entered.
They both walked in after taking the walk of shame from their last class with frowns on their faces, standing by the door while they watched the pink old lady stir her tea with that resting bitch smirk.
The woman's office walls were painted a dull pink and were covered in plates with moving pictures of cats. The whole room reminded Ron of his great aunt Tessy, who lived with dozens of cats in her house.
She looked up after a moment, pretending that it was the first time she noticed them. "Ah, hello boys." She grinned, "Nice of you to join me, please," she motioned to the two empty desks to their left, "Have a seat, both of you."
They briefly looked at each other before setting their books down by their feet, sitting down in each of their chairs.
Umbridge stood up gracefully, palms together as she looked at them like they were oh so precious. "Now boy's. You were both caught running in the hallways, and busted attempting to skip class." She picked up a quill from her desk and walked over to stand directly in front of both of them as they stared up at her with matching frowns. "You both will be writing lines for me today."
"Mr. Potter." The raven made unwanted eye contact with the devil of a woman. "This is your first offense with me this year, so you are to be let off with a warning." Harry looked at her confused, if he was being let off with a warning, then why was he receiving the same punishment as Ron?
She turned to the ginger and grinned evilly. "Mr. Weasley, unfortunately, this is your second detention with me in a week." She put on a fake apologetic pout, "I'm afraid you will be using my special quill today."
She handed over the brown quill, not giving Ron any ink.
He looked up at her, just as confused as Harry. What did using a quill have to do with punishment?
As Umbridge started walking back to her desk, Harry, as calmly as he could in the situation, asked what they would be writing.
"Oh, please write, 'I will not ever skip class.'"
"How many times?"
"Oh, as long as it takes the message to sink in, dear."
Ron was waiting patiently, but as Harry started writing with his own quill, he quietly said allowed, less respectfully then Harry. "You haven't given me any ink."
Umbridge looked at him and smiled, "oh don't worry dear, you will not need any."
Ron's face showed just how irritated he was with the old lady, but he turned to Harry who was on his fifth line and sighed.
At least Harry didn't have to go to Donald's.
He adjusted the quill and was surprised to see it writing perfectly without any ink.
'I will not-' his hand started to burn, and he hissed slightly as he continued, 'ever skip class.' it wasn't until he dotted the period did his hand really start to hurt, and he looked at it. His mouth dropping open as he hissed in pain as each letter carved itself on the back of his hand. As if instead of writing it on paper, Ron had taken a blade and started etching the words into his skin.
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