A/N: this chapter will contain the scenes from the book about the detention with Umbridge. If you aren't comfortable with reading them, I suggest you skip those parts (it's the same as in the books so if you're okay with that, you'll be okay with this, but I felt like I should give you a heads up nonetheless).

chapter nine : detention with Dolores

☆ ☆ ☆

Juniper joined the others again for lunch and slid down next to Angelina, who was eying her worriedly.

"What's the verdict?" she asked.

"Detention every day of the week," June replied flatly, filling her plate. "Starting from tomorrow."

"That's a record," Fred spoke up, but he didn't sound proud. Instead, June could detect worry in it.

Juniper hummed absently. Her thoughts were still trying to figure Umbridge out.

"Well, lucky for you we don't have any Quidditch Tryouts," Angelina said, patting June's shoulder. "It won't be much of a tryout without the captain being there."

June nodded and she stood up upon seeing Harry enter the Great Hall.

"I'll be right back," she told her friends, before dashing towards her cousin. "Harry!"

Harry's head snapped up and he smiled upon seeing her. "Hello, June."

"Listen, I need to warn you about Umbridge," June said, taking his arm and dragging him towards the side where they could talk in private.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Try not to argue with Umbridge," June said. "I did and I got detention every day this week. I know she's wrong. We know she's wrong, but you have to try and contain yourself, all right? I don't want you to have detention with her."

Harry pursed his lips. "I'll try not to."

☆ ☆ ☆

Juniper was not surprised to hear that Harry would be joining her in her daily detention with Umbridge. The two of them were more alike than they initially thought.

"Honestly, I'm not surprised," June sighed, as the two of them made their way towards Umbridge's office. "I should have seen this coming."

"Sorry," Harry apologized, but June could tell he wasn't sorry at all.

"Look, Harry, I know she'd horrible — believe me, I know — but if we keep arguing with her, it'll only give her what she wants," Juniper said, playing with the ends of her sleeves. "And we're better than that, Harry. We shouldn't give her what she wants. It will only end badly for us."

"I know, I know," Harry said, going with his hand trough his hair. "But she just gets under my skin. I can't help it."

"Well, try to control it," June said. "Otherwise you'll be having detention every day of this year."

Harry sighed and knocked on the door.

"Come in," she called in a sugary voice.

The two of them entered cautiously, looking around.

June had known this office under three of its previous occupants. In the days when Gilderoy Lockhart had lived here it had been postered in beaming portraits of himself — June had to clean all of them for detention once. When Remus had occupied it, it was likely you would meet some fascinating Dark creatures in a cage or tank if you came to call. In the impostor Moody's days it had been packed with various instruments and artefacts for the detention of wrongdoing and concealment.

Now, however, it looked totally unrecognizable. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several cases full of dried flowers, each one residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolored kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. These were so foul that both Harry and June stared at them, transfixed, until Professor Umbridge spoke again.

"Good evening, Mr Potter, Miss Black."

June started and looked around. She had not noticed her 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, Professor Umbridge," Harry and June said at the same time.

"Well, sit down," she said, pointing towards a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up two straight-backed chairs. Two pieces of blank parchment lay on the table, apparently waiting for them.

Harry and June sat down.

"Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Mr Potter, Miss Black. No, not with your quills," she added, as Harry and June bent down to open their bags. "You're going to be using two rather special ones of mine. Here you are."

She handed them two long, thin black quills with an unusual sharp point.

"I want you to write, I must not tell lies," she told them softly.

"How many times?" Harry asked, with a creditable imitation of politeness.

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in," Umbridge said sweetly. "Off you go."

She moved over to her desk, sat down and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for markings. June raised the sharp black quill, then realized what was missing.

"You haven't given us any ink," she said.

"Oh, you won't need ink," Professor Umbridge said, with the merest suggestion of a laugh in her voice.

Juniper placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote:

I must not tell lies.

She let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of June's right hand, cut into his skin as though traced there by a scalpel — yet even as she stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth.

Juniper turned to look at Harry, who was looking at Umbridge. She was watching the two of them, her wide toad like mouth stretched in a smile.

"Yes?"

"Nothing," Harry said quickly.

June looked back at the parchment, placed the quill on it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of her hand for a second time; once again, the words had been cut into his skin; once again, they healed over seconds later.

And on it went. Again and again Juniper wrote the words on the parchment in what she soon came to realize was not ink, but her own blood. And, again and again, the words were cut into the back of her hand, healed, and reappeared the next time she set quill to parchment.

Darkness fell outside Umbridge's window. Neither Harry, nor June asked when they would be allowed to stop. They did not even check their watches. Juniper knew Umbridge was watching them for signs of weakeness and she was not going to show any, not even if she had to sit there all night, cutting open her own hand with her quill . . .

"Come here," Umbridge said, after what seemed hours.

They stood up. June's hand was stinging painfully. When she looked down at it she saw that the cut had healed, but that the skin there was red raw.

"Hands," she said.

Both Harry and June extended it. She took them in her own. June repressed a shudder as she touched him with her thick, stubby fingers on which she wore a number of ugly old rings.

"Tut, tut, I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet," Umbridge said, smiling. "Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go."

Harry and June left the office without a word. The schools was quite deserted; it was surely past midnight. They walked slowly up the corridor, then, when they had turned the corner and were sure Umbridge would not hear them, broke into a run.

☆ ☆ ☆

"So what did she made you do?" Angelina asked, as she, June and Alicia were sitting together in Charms the next day.

Juniper hesitated. "Just lines," she said vaguely.

"That's no too bad, then, eh?" Alicia said.

"Nope," June lied, flicking through her book and avoiding all eye contact.

Angelina and Alicia exchanged a worried glance. "Are you all right?" the latter asked.

"Oh, yeah," June said, waving it off. "Just tired."

The day went by smoothly and soon enough, June's second detention began. It was just as bad as the previous one. The skin on the back of her hand became irritated more quickly now and was soon red and inflamed. June thought it unlikely that it would keep hearing as effectively for long. Soon the cut would remain etched into her hand and Umbridge would, perhaps, be satisfied. She let no grasp of pain escape her, however, and from the moment of entering the room to the moment of their dismissal, again past midnight, Harry and June said nothing but 'good evening' and 'goodnight'.

Upon arriving back into her dorm, she skipped her bed and sunk down behind her desk. She still had homework to finish.

It was half past two when she finally finished everything and fell down onto her bed, not bothering to get changed into her pajamas.

☆ ☆ ☆

Harry and June's third detention passed in the same way as the previous two, except that after two hours the words I must not tell lies did not fade from the back of June's hand, but remained scratched there, oozing droplets of blood. The pause in the pointed quills' scratching made Professor Umbridge look up.

"Ah," she said softly, moving around her desk to examine their hands herself. "Good. That ought to serve as a reminder to you, oughtn't it? You may leave for tonight."

"Do we still have to come back tomorrow?" Harry asked, picking up his school bag with his left hand rather than his smarting right one. June closed her eyes, already knowing what the answer would be.

"Oh yes," Professor Umbridge said, smiling as widely as before. "Yes, I think we can etch the message a little deeper with another evening's work."

Juniper grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him along with her.

"Are you all right?" she asked him, once there was a safe distance between them and Umbridge.

"Yeah," Harry said grimly. "It just hurts."

June sighed. "I know . . ."

They made their way up towards the common room and into their dorm. However, before she could even reach the stairs to her dorm, June was cornered by Fred.

"Er — Fred?" June questioned, going with her hand over her face. "Is everything all right?"

"No," Fred said. "I'm worried about you, June. You've been practically sleeping on your feet these last days and every time someone mentions detention, you come up with an excuse to not talk about it."

"Because it's just detention," June lied. "There is nothing to talk about."

"June . . . You might let the others believe it, but not me," Fred said, looking down at her and placing his hands on her arms. "Just tell me what's wrong."

Juniper knew that if she told him, he'd probably go and kill Umbridge himself.

"Fred —" she began, but she was cut off as his hands moved towards her hands and looked at them. His expression hardened as he saw the back of her hand, and he clenched his jaw.

"Did she do this to you?" Fred asked, his voice dangerously low. "Did Umbridge do this?"

"Fred —"

"It's a simple yes or no question, June."

Juniper cast her eyes down. "Yes."

"I'm going to kill her," Fred growled, striding over towards the portrait hole.

"No, don't," June said, grabbing his arm. "You're only giving her what she wants."

"I don't care, June, it's what I should do. It's what Charlie should do and since he's not here, he asked me to do it."

"To do what?" June questioned. "To get yourself killed?"

"No to look after you," Fred said, looking down at her.

"I am perfectly fine to look after myself, thank you very much," June said, but her voice was soft.

"I told Charlie that, but you know how he is. Always the knight in shining armor."

June smiled. "That's who he is."

Fred took her hand once more and observed the wound.

"C'mere," he said, guiding her towards the couch in front of the fireplace and magically making a first aid kit appear.

Juniper watched as he carefully put an ointment on it before bandaging it.

"Thank you," June said, giving him a small smile.

"That's what friends are for, right?" Fred said, smiling back.

☆ ☆ ☆

Friday came as both a blessing and a curse for Juniper. It would be the start of the weekend weren't it for the fact that she and Harry had one last detention with Umbridge at five o'clock.

"You know what to do, Mr Potter, Miss Black," Professor Umbridge said, smiling sweetly at them.

Juniper picked up the quill and sat down on her chair before pulling the parchment closer. She had removed the bandage that morning, not wanting anyone to see it, and she gritted her teeth as she started writing.

I must not tell lies, June wrote. The cut in the back of her right hand opened and began to bleed afresh.

I must not tell lies. The cut dug deeper, stinging and smarting.

I must not tell lies. Blood tickled down her wrist.

Juniper wrote line after line and tried to ignore the pain.

I must not tell lies.

I must not tell lies.

The parchment was now shining with drops of blood from the back of her hand, which was searing with pain.

"Let's see if you've got the message yet, shall we?" Umbridge's soft voice said, making June look up.

She moved towards the two of them, stretching out her short ringed fingers for their arms. June clenched her jaw, trying not to flinch.

"Well, I think I've made my point, Mr Potter, Miss Black," Umbridge said, after examining their wounds. "You may go."

June and Harry hurried back towards the common room and climbed through the portrait hole. Fred jumped up and June sat down on the couch, silently letting him patch her back up.

☆ ☆ ☆

Published 25.03.2021

I hope you enjoyed it & tell me what you think of it!

Got some Fred x June time (honestly they are friendship goals!!) and newsflash; I still hate Umbridge urgh.

Anyway, I'll see you all in the next chapter!
Laura