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Fleur's Door: A Fictional Narrative

Decent Essays
The following evening someone knocked on Fleur’s door. “Who is it?” “Harry,” answered the voice. She cracked the door open. “What’s going on?” “Professor Vector sent me to finish my detention with you. She said you’d understand.” Oh . . . “Hold on.” Fleur shut her door. Her threadbare t-shirt and no bra wasn’t proper for meeting with a student, but a heavy jumper was. She glanced around her apartment. A few dirty dishes lay in her sink, and a few books were strewn across the table, but nothing that would embarrass her. Satisfied, Fleur opened the door. Harry stood before her, one hand cupped in the other. “I take it you were spending your detention with Umbridge?” “How did you know that?” Harry asked, stopping half way through…show more content…
“I don’t care. It’s worth it.” “Hold on, I have dittany in the medicine chest.” She retrieved it, and another old t-shirt. Back at the table, she tore equal strips of fabric from the shirt, laying them aside before banishing the rest. “Let me see your hand.” She ignored the thrill weaving through her as their fingers touched and focused on rubbing salve into his open wounds. “Does that help?” “A little.” Fleur wrapped fabric strips on the wound and relied on Sticky Charms to keep them in place. “There.” She let go of his hand. “Let me see the other one.” “Why?” Harry asked. “Because you’re right handed, and Blood Quills work by writing, so what message didn’t Umbridge want to confuse that she had you write with your off hand?” Hesitation dominated his eyes, but he gave in and presented his other hand for her to read. The scarred letters were just visible. I will not tell lies. “I take it that’s about Voldemort?” “And part of what prompted Ron over Christmas, I think. If I’d kept my mouth shut in class, he wouldn’t’ve risked himself like that. “Ron made his own choice for his own reasons,” she…show more content…
I have tangible evidence you used magic to harm a student without his permission.” “I have done no such thing!” Umbridge argued. “Do you deny another professor caught you punishing Potter a Blood Quill?” A gasp went up among the students. Umbridge’s eyes shot to Septima before settling on Minerva. “I was merely instilling discipline in a wayward young wizard who has been misled—” those same eyes moved to Fleur “—by the most unsavory elements of our world.” If possible, Minerva drew herself to an even higher stature, towering over the ministry witch. “In that case, I believe it best to clear away such influences. Salky! Dolsy!” Two house-elves, both dressed in clean linens with a Hogwarts crest in the middle, appeared on either side of her. “Remove Dolores Umbridge’s belongings from her office and apartment. She no longer has any business in this castle.” “You filthy creatures better not touch my possessions,” Dolores warned. “Do as your told,” Minerva countered. “No harm will befall you.” She glared at Dolores. “I, as Assistant Headmistress am tasked with enforcing the Hogwarts disciplinary code, which states any staff or faculty member, regardless of position, who willingly and knowingly harms a student without the student’s permission shall be removed immediately from the grounds, and the case turned over to the Wizengamot for further
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