𝐎, 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 ⎥ "He wants a fight with
a God? I'll give him one."
﹙ from stardust we came, to stardust we return ﹚
Prisoner of Azkaban - Deathly Hollows
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AT FIVE TO FIVE HARRY AND ELARA SET OFF FOR THEIR INEVITABLE DOOM. they bade ron and hermione good-bye and left the great hall for umbridge's office on the third floor. when harry knocked on the door she said, "come in," in a sugary voice. they entered cautiously, looking around.
they 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 its owner. 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. in the impostor moody's days it had been packed with various instruments and artifacts for the detection of wrongdoing and concealment.
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 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. these were so foul that harry and elara stared at them, transfixed, until professor umbridge spoke again.
"good evening, mr. potter, miss lestrange."
elara started and looked around. she had not noticed professor umbridge 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.
"evening," harry said stiffly.
elara just slightly nodded.
"well, sit down," professor umbridge said, pointing toward a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up two straight-backed chairs. two blank pieces of parchment lay on the table, apparently waiting for them.
elara grudgingly sat down in one of the empty 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 . . ."
elara knew long before harry reached the end of his sentence that it was no good.
"oh no," said umbridge, 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 along with miss lestrange. 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."
