The Glass Onion Text too small or too big? You can change it! Ctrl+ (bigger), Ctrl- (smaller)
or click on View in your browser and look for font or text size settings.

Home/Quicksearch  +   Random  +   Upload  +   Search  +   Contact  +   GO List

This is the life

by Hewigkeit

[Story Headers]

This is the life

by Hewigkeit

Hogwarts, 1th September 1999.

Leaves danced above the grass, whirling in the frosty wind who blew on the grounds of Hogwart. All the students were gathered in the Great Hall, waiting for the Headmaster's annual speech and the excitement, as well as the anxiety, was palpable.

The return of Voldemort had not yet reached the ears of the population but that was not the case of those who attended Hogwart because one year ago, at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Harry Potter had came out of the gigantic maze where the final task had taken place, squeezing in a death grip the corpse of Cedric Diggory, killed by the Dark Lord.

Dumbledore had told the truth during the Final Banquet, disregarding the interdiction of the Ministry who didn't want to hear anything about Voldemort, or the Death eaters for that matter. But despite the headmaster's words, some people were still in denial and during the summer that followed, those who believed in what Harry and Dumbledore had said decreased severely. Harry had felt a corrosive rage grew inside him when confronted with the reaction of the majority but he knew better than yell until he turned blue in the face.

And then there was Ron and Hermione, who stand by him, no matter what might happened. They believed him and, more importantly, they believed in him.

-I hope Dumbledore'll make this quick, grumbled Ron, who was sitting besides Harry at the Gryffindor table, tapping distractedly his fork against his empty plate.

-Yes, we know, you're starving.., said Hermione, disapprobation all over her face.

-What? I never said that!

-You don't have to say it, Ronald. It's painfully obvious...

-You---

Harry rolled his eyes, as it was the kind of argument that broke every hour or so when he was with them. Throwing a glance at the teacher's table to see who was new, he noticed that Dumbledore was more serious than usual, but the twinkles were still there, glowing through the half-moon spectacles.

And then he saw her.

Sitting at the same table, a smile playing on her lips as if she was enjoying something that only her could see, was Dolores Umbridge. Her gaze scanned the room and a condescending expression appeared on her round face, as if the things she saw disappointed and amused her at the same time.

How could she stand there, that dirty little-

She turned her head and their gazes locked. Her smile turned to smug and she raised her eyebrows, brown eyes alive with pleasure and malice. Then it was gone, as she lost interest in him, resuming her casual observation as if he didn't exist. But Harry kept looking at her, his indignation growing along with his rage.

Dumbledore couldn't possibly let her do whatever she planned to do here, at Hogwart?

-What it is, mate?

Harry turned his head. Ron looked at him, a frown between his brows.

-That woman, he jerked his head at the professor's table, the fat ugly toad. She was at my trial, and she was definitely against me.

Ron took a look at her and bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

-Nice clothes.

Hermione snorted.

-She didn't believe me when I said I was attacked by Dementors and evidently Fudge went along with her...

Hermione was about to respond when Dumbledore stood up. Harry turned his head to see the old wizard who was beaming at them, arms wide open and cheerful eyes.

-A new year begins, said Dumbledore, I must tell you that it will be a difficult one, a pause, you will have to stay alert and... yes, Miss Umbridge?

The woman, who had been sitting between MacGonagall and Snape, had stood up and was now standing beside Dumbledore, smiling up at him in a slightly mocking way. A blank followed and students exchanged glances while some looked coolly at her, eyebrows raised.

-I would like to say a little word to introduce myself, if the Headmaster allows me to do so, of course.

Dumbledore remained silent a few moments, then sat down elegantly and joined his hands under his chin, watching the petite woman with polite interest but several professors looked outraged and MacGonagall fixed her with a polar look. Dolores Umbridge turned her gaze away from Dumbledore and faced the dumbfounded students, all the while smiling.

-What is that crap? Who does she think she is?!

-Ron! Keep it down will you! hissed Hermione, but her expression was thunderous as she looked at Umbridge.

If the later noticed the various reactions, she didn't show it but kept smiling and began her speech in a sweet, almost gentle tone (which infuriated Harry even more).

-My name is Dolores Umbridge and I'm here as a member of the ministry of magic, in order to shall we say... keep an eye on Hogwart. Not that I plan to replace the Headmaster any time soon, her head bowed in a respectful salute at Dumbledore, I will simply be an help,straightening things up if necessary.

-Also, I will have the pleasure to be your new teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Harry gasped loudly but kept himself from saying anything he'll come to regret, although by sheer force of will and turned his face away from her.

-I don't understand how Dumbledore can let her teach here! he said furiously.

-My guess is that he didn't have a choice..., said Hermione grimly, you heard her, she's here so she can keep an eye on us. The ministry is afraid that Dumbledore'll try something to discredit them so he sent her to spy and report everything that looks suspicious.

That theory sounded too close to the truth for Harry's comfort. Dumbledore might be powerful but there was very little he could do right now. One 'wrong move' and he could be removed from his post of headmaster. And Harry could not imagine what it could be like without Dumbledore directing and protecting the school.

Actually, he could.

...

Dreadful thing, Dumbledore, but the governors fell it is time for you to step aside...

Dumbledore didn't let Lucius Malfoy get at him that time, nor had he ever, but Harry and Ron, who had been hidden under the invisibility cloak, had been frozen to the spot.

...I'm afraid we feel you are losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? At this rate, there will be no Muggles-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school...

Harry had believed Fudge would have intervened and, indeed, he had, but not properly, stammering and sweating when he should have been authoritative and rational.

Dumbledore had left.

And so it had began, the odd, tense period with nothing but subdued voices and unnatural laughs.

-The Slytherins should be happy with her, said Harry.

-At least Malfoy and his fans would, said Hermione, I don't know for the rest.

-Wha-- Are you high?, Ron blurted, Evidently they'll love it! They are Slytherins!

-Ron... sometimes I wonder if you are really in fifth year...

-What is that supposed to mean?

-You still judge people depending on what House they're in.

For a moment, he was struck speechless before letting out a short incredulous laugh.

-Hermione, that the principle of Hogwarts!! People are sorting in different houses depending on what they are! And Slytherins happens to be the house of all the nasty, cruel, bitchy... well, you get the point. It is normal to judge people by their House! It's their identity!! Anyway, I certainly don't need a Hat to know that Malfoy is the most vain and smug bastard I've ever met...

Hermione's frown deepened and she bit the inside of her jaw but decided to drop it for now. Ron still looked incredulously at her.

-All the Slytherins are not completely evil but they're all a little nasty... and definitely manipulative. Come now, Hermione, Harry said as she opened her mouth to protest, you know it's true.

She shook her head , muttering something that sounds like '...boys... stupid...prejudices...'.

Harry and Ron shared a meaningful glance.

Umbridge spoke for half an hour, going on and on about protection, devotion to the study and the school in general.

-...and I'm sure we we'll be great friends.

There was some quiet (and not so quiet) laughs.

Dumbledore stoop up and bowed his head to her.

-That was a very enlightening speech, thank you, Mrs. Umbridge.

-My pleasure, headmaster.

-I'll never understand how can he stay calm like that, Ron said, curling his lips in wonder and slight disgust, he should tell her to fuck off or something.

-Yeah, that'd go over well, Ron. Replied Hermione, rolling her eyes.

-I'm just saying, it's not normal to be that bloody nice all the time !

-Being polite, it is called. You should try it sometimes.

-I am not polite?

Hermione blew a long suffering sigh, causing Ron's face to darkened considerably.

-I think the professor Umbridge had covered everything I wanted to say, declared Dumbledore, so I am just going to add: good night!

Harry smiled. No matter how childish the words might seemed, Dumbledore always find a way to make them sound warm and comforting. Some of his anxiety wore off as he rose from his seat and leave the Common Salle along with all the others students.

The group of first year had stood up too but they stayed beside the table, looking around to see if anyone would tell them where to go. They didn't wait long, as Hermione came back with Ron and gestured for them to come along with her ( yes, Ron, we have to take them to the dormitory).

-See you around, mate, said Ron, glancing at Harry over his shoulder as he and Hermione led the way for the new students.

Harry waved his wand and climbed the stairs leading to the Gryffindor dormitory, wondering vaguely why he wasn't prefect.

Not that he particularly cared. But it meant he would spend less time with Ron and Hermione.

-Dandelion, he said to the the Fat Lady.

-Sure.

The portrait slid to the side and he entered the hole, smiling as he looked around him.

His home.

Comfortable armchairs formed a half circle on the center of the common room, facing the imposing hearth ( who was protected by some kind of ward to prevent students from getting burned or, in the case of the Weasley twins, throwing something 'funny' and potentially dangerous in it).

Harry sat down on the purple armchair ( someone had once tried to brighten the original red color -Harry had a feeling that someone must have been Neville- and no one could find the counter curse after it. The person who had tried had been transported to the nursery, showing a vivid, velveted, red skin.)

Despite it obviously being a cursed furniture, Harry liked the way it felt under him. It wasn't too soft and it wasn't too high ( Harry still was the smaller boy in Gryffindor ). Closing his eyes, he let himself relaxes. Unpacking could wait 'til...

well, until later.

He was halfway asleep when he heard Seamus and Dean entering the room.

-... so full of it. Honest, d'ya believe him? , that was the voice of Seamus, " The Dark Lord has returned!", there was a pause and Harry knew they had just shared a meaningful glance then Seamus added, my mum thinks he tells the truth.

-Dunno, Seam, responded Dean as they made their way to the rooms, I mean, why would he say something like that if it isn't true? He's not nuts and, well, he did quite spectacular stuff. The thing with the basilic-

Seamus's mocking laugh hurt Harry more than he would have believed.

-You believe that to? God man, you're "naf ".

Their voices faded as they climbed up the stair, leaving him completely awake.

Of course he knew some people didn't accept the truth, but to hear some petty remarks coming from one of his roommates...

Harry never had any particular problem with Seamus and had had the impression that the boy even liked him.

Well, guess I was wrong...

He closed his eyes and slouched in his seat, wandering how many comments he'll have to endure before this was over.


There was some noise as the students settled down onto their seats, looking at the professor who was waiting patiently in front of her desk, hands folded on her stomach that the silence was complete.

-Very good. Now, open your books at page 1, she turned her head to Neville, would you please read it to us, Mister Longbottom?

Neville was as startled as everyone else. No one ever asked them to read aloud anymore. Some professors had done so while they were first year but they had dropped the habit within a week.

-Mister Longbottom, we are waiting.

Neville cleared his throat and looked around him before beginning:

-The disarmament spell, also called 'expelliarmus' is used to take the opponent's wand and is performed with a simple, quick motion of the arm ( there was a animated picture at the bottom of the page showing how one should move his or her wand in order to cast the spell properly). The disarmament spell was invented by...

-What is this?

Several heads turned toward Harry, Umbridge blinked at him.

-I beg your pardon?

-What is this? Repeated Harry.

Someone snickered but he ignored them, keeping his gaze on her face.

-I believe it is a class of a Defense Against The Dark Arts, Mister Potter.

-Really? Because it doesn't seems like it to me.

Her tone grew colder.

-Well, I assure you it is, now be nice and focus on the lesson. Mister Longbottom, if you please, continue.

But Harry spoke Neville had a chance to do so.

-I find it hard to concentrate on the lesson when there is none, professor.

Hermione elbowed him on the ribs.

-What are you doing!? ,she said in a furious whisper, do you really want a detention that badly?

-Harry, you gotta chill now, mate. Ron gave him a warning look but there was no anger or coldness in the clear blue eyes.

-Sure he does', muttered someone on his right. Justin Finch-Fletchley was whispering something in Seamus's ear, causing the Gryffindor to laugh. Harry paled but didn't acknowledge them.

-Are you really that stupid, asked he to Umbridge, or is it just an act? Or perhaps you are just waiting to see people get killed by Voldemort to finally understand that you were wrong. Oh but wait, it already happened, hasn't it? During the Tri-Wizard Tournament; you know, this boy, Cedric Diggory...

A chair felt loudly on the floor.

-All right that's it, dude! ,Seamus was up and he was no longer smiling or sneering, you shut up now! No one believe you! Can't you see?! Are you really that thick so you can't see what you're saying is total crap?!? He is NOT back you jerk! And if you asked me-

But Harry had stood up too.

-I AM NOT A JERK! HOW CAN YOU NOT BELIEVE WHAT DUMBLEDORE AND I SAY? WHAT MORE PROOF DO YOU NEED?! ARE YOU GONNA WAIT FOR MURDER AS WELL?

There were face to face, Seamus looked like he wanted nothing more than hit Harry very, very hard.

Harry was trembling with fury and he barely felt the hand on his shoulder.

-Don't listen to him. Please. I'm begging you, said Ron as he threw an icy glare at Seamus, who glared right back.

Harry knew Ron was just trying to defend him and not the Gryffindor's House's points but there was only so much he could take and he wanted to shake Seamus and slam him on the wall until he finally see the truth.

-Thank you, Mister Potter, for that impassioned speech, Umbridge said at least, you will, of course, have a detention. Tonight.

She smiled and Harry paled even more, a drop of blood rolling down his chin as he bit savagely his lower lip. He jerked free of Ron's hand and rushed out of the classroom.


-Mister Potter...

He was standing at his door and if looks could kill... well, she guessed she would be dead several times by now.

-..to what do I owe the pleasure?

He didn't respond but there was no need. All his thoughts showed through his eyes.

-Aaaah, yes. Yes, of course, the detention... I had almost forgot.

She smiled.

-Please, take a seat. I don't bite.

Harry did as he was told and sat stiffly on the chair that faced her imposing wooden desk, all the while staring at her with eyes that grew colder each passing second. Umbridge held his gaze.

-What do you want me to do?, spat Harry.

-My, Mister Potter, you're quite rude for such a young boy.

Harry clenched his fists and held his temper. Barely. Umbridge stood up.

-I want to make a deal with you.

-A deal...

Harry saw her took something out of a five drawer metallic chest.

-Yes, Mister Potter. A deal. And don't look at me like that, I promise you it will be very pleasant.

Harry let out an acid laugh.

-Pleasant... who are you taking me for, professor? And why would you want to make any sort of deal with me? Ha, but I know!, and disgust mingled with fury in the cold green eyes, you want me to make you look good because you know I'm right about Voldemort and that the truth will come out sooner or later. And you're afraid of what people will think of you when it does.

Umbridge turned, and in her right hand was a big stick enveloped by velvet.

-That's an interesting theory, but no. I do not wish to be protected by the Great Harry Potter. That being said, I do want something from you.

She took off the piece of velvet and caressed the white stick with the tip of her fingers.

Harry lost it.

-Tell me already!

A grin split the face of Umbridge, and Harry yelled as her arm sliced trough the air and he felt something cut him in the forehead as a spray of blood floated across the room and splashed on the white stick, who absorbed it like a sponge. Harry stood up instantly and drawn out his own wand, applying a hand on his wound.

-WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU? ARE YOU CRAZY?

-Now, now. It's just blood. And it's a very small cut.

Harry wasn't so sure of it as the stick had turned red all over its surface. Then Umbridge flicked her wand and the wound closed up, leaving nothing but white, smooth skin.

-I suppose one scar is enough, don't you agree?

Harry had his wand on the ready and if Umbridge tries anything else-

-I'm sorry if I hurt you, but that had to be done.

Umbridge moved faster than he had anticipated and the spells struck him before he had the slightest chance to react . She sighed but there was no sadness or regret neither on her round face nor in the shining brown eyes as she landed her eyes on Harry, who had felt with a soft thump on the thick carpet that covered the floor of her office.

-That was necessary to, she drew closer to him and knelt, I want you to listen to me, Mister Potter, and you can't do that if you keep screaming on and on.

Harry hated being helpless and he threw Umbridge a ferocious look as he tried to fight the biding spell of along with the one that rendered him mute.

She smiled and bent over his ear.

-I want you...

Her hand slided down his cheek...

-I want you very much, Mister Potter and I know how that must sound but...

...unbuttoned his shirt...

-I want what I want, when I want it.

She straightened up and there was a heated flush on her face.

-So here is my 'deal'. You can give it to me of your own accord.

Her fingers curled up around the red stick and she gave it a stroke.

-Or I can take the matter in my own hand.

And as Umbridge stroked it again, and again and again and again Harry uttered a silent cry. As it felt like it wasn't the stick but something else she slid her hand up and down.

-You see what I mean?

She licked her way up the stick before putting the tip on her mouth, and as she sucked Harry felt the tension building up, and Umbridge doubled her efforts until she saw perspiration shinning on his forehead, flattening the dark hair and she smiled, as a white, sticky drop rolled down her chin.


-Jeez, mate, you look like shit.

Harry threw Ron an icy look and resumed eating his breakfast bit by bit, eyes on the table.

-And you wonder why people say you're rude...

-I'm not rude, Hermione. I'm just being honest, you should try it sometimes.

-And you can try being tactful. Because when you are 'honest' without being tactful, then you are rude!

Ron turned to Harry and fired off a sunny grin.

-Dear friend, when my eyes landed on your visage, (Hermione rolled her eyes) you wore such a sad expression I felt the urge to ask you...Harry?

Harry had lift is head, and he was looking Ron straight in the eyes.

-Harry, what's wrong? said Hermione, alarmed.

Harry was sitting in front of them and his expression was terrifying.

-Hey, Harry, Ron put an hand on his shoulder, what's the matter, mate?


Hogwarts, 12th September 1999. 21:00a.m

It was over.

-I told you so, Mister Potter. It's a very pleasant deal.

Harry was shivering. He stood up slowly and he felt like he was going to throw up. Umbridge had played with the stick for over half an hour. With him.

With his-

-Of course, we could came up with an even better deal...

-EXPELLIARMUS!

Umbridge cried out in surprise and Harry seized the red stick, and he had the unpleasant sensation to hold what had became extremely sensitive.

-I suggest you loosen your grip, Mister Potter. We do not want for you to crush this delicious part of yours.

Umbridge's smile was unbearable.

-What are you planning to do with that, Mister Potter? Hurry out of my office and show 'it' to Dumbledore? In the hope the headmaster and, why not, McGonagall, will find a countercurse or something along those lines?

-SHUT UP! YOU--- BITCH!

Harry's heart was racing. Seeking help from Dumbledore was the most reasonable choice but Harry knew he could not do it. He could not hand that 'thing' over to Dumbledore, or McGonagall, and watch their efforts to free him from the curse. Certainly, they could work on a solution without touching the stick with bare hands but even if they worked with their wands, Harry was afraid he would still be able to feel on his body whatever they would be doing with the stick. And if somehow, that wasn't the case, entering Dumbledore's office to tell him what the stick represented in the first place made Harry's face burning with shame.

-Give me that stick, Mister Potter, Umbridge took a step forward, you have no other choices.

Harry closed his eyes when he stretched his hand out so he couldn't see the gloating face of the teacher when she took it and covered it with the piece of black velvet.

-There. That would prevent you from feeling the touch of my hands. Or anything else.

Harry's eyes were two frozen emeralds.

-You must feel pretty exhausted now, Harry, Umbridge cocked her head and gave him a little smile, you should go to your bed.

That night, Harry did not sleep. He could not, because each time his eyes closed, he saw Umbridge.

And her sticky, white hands.


Please post a comment on this story.









Fandom:  Harry Potter
Title:  This is the life
Author:  Hewigkeit   [email]
Details:  Work-In-Progress  |  NC-17  |  gen  |  22k  |  05/01/09
Characters:  Harry.Umbridge
Pairings:  Harry/Umbridge Harry/other male character
Summary:  Sometimes, you just have to try.
Notes:  Sex Warning.
Disclaimer/Other:  I I'm not the author of Harry Potter. This is a fanfiction based on the work of J.K Rowling.

[top of page]

Home/QuickSearch  +   Random  +   Upload  +   Search  +   Contact  +   GO List