Part One / Chapter Thirteen
Venus felt anxiousness wash over her after knocking on Umbridge's office door. It was a worse feeling than when Andromeda caught her stealing cauldron cakes past her bedtime, or when she'd accidentally filled Tonks' room with mockingjays that tweeted the lyrics to We Are The Champions. This was much worse than those fear-inducing circumstances, most likely not as horrifying as an upset Aunt Andromeda.
Umbridge said, "Come in," in a sugary voice. She entered cautiously, looking around.
The surfaces were all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolor kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. It was disgustingly pink, Venus' mouth set in a hard line. She and Harry stared at the kittens on the wall, transfixed, until Professor Umbridge spoke again. "Good evening, Mr. Potter, Ms. Rosario."
"Evening," Harry said stiffly.
"Good evening, Professor," said Venus as sweetly as she could, fighting the urge to hurt the woman.
"Well, sit down," she said, pointing toward two small tables draped in lace beside which she had drawn up two straight-backed chairs.
"Er," said Harry, without moving. "Professor Umbridge? Er — before we start, I-I wanted to ask you a . . . a favor."
Her bulging eyes narrowed. "Oh yes?"
"Well I'm . . . I'm on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And I was supposed to be at the tryouts for the new Keeper at five o'clock on Friday and I was— was wondering whether I could skip detention that night and do it — do it another night . . . instead . . ."
Venus silently cringed, surely knowing that Umbridge wasn't going to let him off detention for Quidditch. She wouldn't let him off Detention if he he suddenly sprouted antennas.
"Oh no," said Umbridge predictably, smiling so widely that she looked as though she had just swallowed a particularly juicy fly. "Oh no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr. Potter, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one's convenience. No, you will come here at five o'clock tomorrow, and the next day, and on Friday too, and you will do your detentions as planned. I think it rather a good thing that you are missing something you really want to do. It ought to reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach you."
Venus felt like a prisoner being coached to a dementor. Professor McGonagall was right about treading lightly around Dolores Umbridge. But Venus didn't care what she reported back to the Ministry. She cared about what was going through her sick, demented head.
Umbridge was watching Harry with her head slightly to one side, still smiling widely, as though she could read his thoughts. With a massive effort, Harry looked away from her, dropped his schoolbag beside the straight-backed chair, and sat down. Glancing over at Venus, who'd already taken her seat; quill in hand.
"There," said Umbridge sweetly, "we're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you two are going to be doing some lines for me. No, not with your quills," she added, as Harry bent down to open his bag, looking at Venus' quill in her hands.
"You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are." She handed them two long, thin black quills with unusually sharp points.
"I want you to write ' I must not tell lies, ' " she told Harry softly. "And for you dear, I want you to write 'I must respect my superiors' "
"How many times?" Harry asked, with a creditable imitation of politeness.
"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in, " said Umbridge sweetly. "Off you go."
Even with the immense amount of sweetness in her voice, that sentence never sounded more sinister. Venus raised the sharp black quill and then realized what was missing.
"I don't have any ink," she said.
"Yeah, mines doesn't have any either," Harry added raising his quill slightly.
"Oh, you won't need ink," said Professor Umbridge with the merest suggestion of a laugh in her voice. Extremely unsettled with the woman's off-putting words, Venus placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote: I must respect my superiors.
She let out a squeal of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Venus' left hand, cut into her skin as though traced there by a scalpel— yet even as she stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth.
She felt tears sting her eyes from the pain; biting the bottom of her lip harshly attempting to stop a cry from escaping her mouth. Venus looked around at Umbridge. She was watching them, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile. "Yes?"
"Nothing," said Harry quietly. He was impressively hiding his pain, looking back down at the parchment, placing the quill upon it once more.
"You're crazy!" Venus burst out into tears dropping the quill onto the parchment. "This certainly cannot be allowed."
"I suggest you keep quiet and continue your lines, Ms. Rosario," Umbridge's voice was losing its sweet accent.
"Why? Why shouldn't I get up right now and tell Dumbledore what you're doing to us?" said Venus standing up halfway from her seat. Harry had a horrified look on his face; the first emotion he'd displayed since stepping foot into the office.
"Because Ms. Rosario," her voice was bitterly cold now, Venus felt the hairs on her arms stand, "We have information at the Ministry that will certainly guarantee you. . . unpleasant circumstances, Ms. Rosario."
"Like what? My birthday?" said Venus sarcastically.
"More like your birth parents, Ms. Rosario. Now, continue with your lines before this escalates further than it has to, for your own sake."
Venus didn't like the threatening tone coming from Umbridge. She gloomily looked back at her parchment. Pangs of fear and the throbbing pain provoked the tears that brimmed her eyes to fall down her cheeks.
She picked up the quill and wrote I must respect my superiors, and feeling the scorching sting on the back of her hand; the words cut her wound open, the wound healing only seconds after. She stifled sobs and held her breath in terror.
A small weep escaping her lips. Even if it was out of her sight, she felt Umbridge smile at the pain she was inflicting. Harry hadn't cracked; he wrote over and over again. Not even a gasp escaping his lips. Venus wished she was as resilient as him, but her soft whimpers escalated into repressed wails.
Harry held his right hand out to Venus' left, taking it gently. The words slicing open their hands, but Venus didn't flinch at the pain anymore; his touch eased the discomfort quite a bit.
They held hands until darkness fell outside Umbridge's window. The two did not ask when they would be allowed to stop. Only grasping the other's hand tightly when the pain reached an extreme.
Venus knew she was watching them for signs of weakness and Harry wasn't going to show any, not even if he had to sit here all night, cutting open his own hand with this quill. Venus, unfortunately, was silently breaking down next to Harry. Dried tear stains smudging her cheeks, painted over by new streams of tears that trickled down her face.
"Come here," she said, after what seemed hours.
They stood up. Her hand was stinging painfully. When she looked down at it she saw that the cut had healed, but that the skin there was redraw. It was the first time she'd looked at it, Venus didn't feel a need to when Harry's hand was entwined with hers underneath their desks. "Hand," Umbridge said.
They extended their wounded hands. She took them in her own. Venus shuddered as she touched them with her thick, stubby fingers on which she wore several ugly old rings. Umbridge nodded. "Tut, tut, I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet," she said, smiling. "Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go."
They left her office without speaking a word. The school was quite deserted; it was surely past midnight. Venus broke down into pained sobs, clutching onto her hand. She collapsed into Harry's arms. He felt her tears damping his robes, but he didn't complain. After a few minutes, her cries had seized. She sprung up from his chest, flustered and embarrassed.
"I'm okay," she whispered. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not, Venus," remarked Harry. "And that's fine after what she just did."
"I said I'm fine!" Venus shouted. Harry stepped back. "I'm sorry— I— er. I need to go to sleep."
Venus deserted Harry in the corridor sprinting to the portrait of the Fat Lady. Venus clutched onto her bleeding hand. Harry was right about one thing: she wasn't fine. But he didn't need to know that. She'd confide in him when hell freezes over.
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【 AUTHORS NOTE! 】:
Venus and Harry tryna keep it together in detention while their skin is being cut open repeatedly for hours: