"Good afternoon class," Professor Umbridge says, her short stubby legs guiding her to the front of the classroom.
As usual, most people ignore her, and I roll my eyes.
"I said, good afternoon, class." She says, smiling dangerously sweetly.
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge." The class grumbles.
"Put your wands away." She instructs, a fake smile still pasted across her unnervingly toad-like face.
People grumble, but do so.
"Good," Umbridge says. "I would like you to turn to page seventeen and read 'Chapter Four, Understanding Theory for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."
As much as I don't want to call attention to myself, I can't bring myself to read this thestral crap. I tap my fingers against the desk, wishing I had one of the twins' prototype sweets so I could vomit spectacularly and then get out of class.
"Why aren't you reading?" Umbridge's voice jolts me from my daydreams.
"When are we going to, I don't know, actually learn something? Like how to cast a defensive spell?" I blurt, and immediately regret it. Professor Umbridge raises her penciled on eyebrows.
"And your name is?"
"Dabria Lestrange." I mumble, wishing for the umpteenth time I had a different last name. It's kind of nice though, this toad gets to watch a Lestrange argue to be taught defensive magic. I thought I was going to be able to get through the year without getting noticed by her, but of course that's a pipe dream.
"Well, Miss Lestrange, I think there's no real reason you should need to learn how to cast those defensive spells." Umbridge says in a vilely sweet voice.
"Well, I do. What are we going to do to defend ourselves?" I retort, as now that I got myself in this mess I might as well make use of it. People turn to look, most likely simply grateful for a distraction from the excessively tedious chapter.
"You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?" Professor Umbridge mocks.
"I surely am," I shrug, standing up. I'm easily quite a bit taller than her, and I glare down at her. "Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?"
"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Lestrange?" Professor Umbridge asks, in her falsely sweet voice. It's like listening to a sick Welsh green dragon screech. And because of hanging out with the twin's brother Charlie, I know what that sounds like.
"No, but—"
"Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the "whole point" of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way—" Umbridge babbles on, and I roll my eyes again.
"Who do you possibly imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" Umbridge asks in a horribly honeyed voice.
"Hmm, let's think ..." I retort sarcastically. "Maybe ... Lord Voldemort?" The name's like venom on my tongue, and I spit it out anyways.
The room shifts uncomfortably, but Professor Umbridge, however, does not flinch.
"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Lestrange."
The classroom is silent and still. Everyone's now either staring at Umbridge or me.
"Now, let me make a few things quite plain. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead—"
YOU ARE READING
That Way
Fanfiction❝ "God, Lestrange, you're so fucking annoying, you know that?" "Oh, I'm annoying?! You make me want to pitch myself off the astronomy tower! I fucking hate you!" "Just shut it, will you?" "Oh yeah? And what are you going to do if I don't?" ❞ 𝓑𝓮�...
