Finally Me ~

Chapter 64

**Alex’s POV**

“I suppose it’ll be like the OWLs, right?”

“I’d say so, yeah.”

I duck as another owl swoops past me. There’s a dozen of them gathered in front of Harry, trying to deliver their mail. Fred has to clean the dishes away before they get covered with feathers.

“What’s all this?”

I can’t help but shudder. She is so gross.

“Why have you got all these letters, Mr Potter?” Umbridge asks.

“Is that a crime now, getting mail?” Fred asks loudly.

“Be careful, Mr Weasley, or I shall have to put you in detention,” Umbridge says.

I gently put my hand on Fred’s arm before he can reply. He sits back, staring daggers at her.

“Well, Mr Potter?”

“I have these because I gave an interview,” Harry replies, “about what happened last June.”

“This won’t be pretty,” I say, “let’s go.”

“I’ll catch up,” Fred says softly. Felicity and I walk out and head up to the Defense classroom.

“Urgh, she’s going to be foul,” I groan, sinking into my seat.

“I hope the boys don’t mess up,” Felicity says, “they’ll only make it worse.”

When Fred and George arrive they’re both scowling. Fred sits down next to me with George on his other side.

“That woman,” he fumes.

“Fred, don’t make trouble,” I beg, “she’s already in a foul mood, she-”

“Silence!” Umbridge sweeps and sits down at her desk, “wands away; books out. You will be studying chapter 37.”

I open up my book and start to read. Fred is tense beside me, his hands balled into fists on the desk. I put my hand over his.

“Breathe,” I whisper. His hand flies into the air and I have to hold back a groan.

“What is it, Mr Weasley?” Umbridge asks.

“Why are we studying the practical application out of a book instead of actually using it?” he says angrily, “we have to do a practical exam and none of us will be prepared for it if all we do is stare at a book.”

“If you study the chapters, you will be fully prepared,” Umbridge says, “now read.”

“I don’t want to read,” Fred says stubbornly.

“Fred,” I groan. Umbridge stands up, her eyes flashing.

“Well, perhaps you’d prefer to write,” she says, “I think a week of detention will do. Lunchtimes.”

“I look forward to it,” Fred says coldly.

“Fred,” I whisper, “don’t.”

“Miss Cohen, do you have something to add?” Umbridge snaps. I blush.

“No, it’s just…” I glance at Fred, wishing I knew what to say.

“Oh, of course,” Umbridge’s voice is high and sugary and it makes me want to puke, “he’s your dear boyfriend. Well, I wouldn’t want to tear you two apart. You can join him.”

“No!” Fred cries, “she didn’t do anything.”

Umbridge raises an eyebrow, smiling.

“Well, it seems I’ve hit a nerve,” she says, “from now on, any punishment you get, she will have doubled. Miss Cohen, I expect you at lunchtimes for the next two weeks. And if I hear another word from either of you, it will be a month.”