Harry Potter and the Great Old Ones

Chapter 423 Punishment
After the Defense Against the Dark Arts class came Charms and Transfiguration classes. Both Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall first spent fifteen minutes emphasizing the importance of the O.W.L. exam to the whole class.

“You must remember this!” the short, shrill Professor Flitwick said, standing as usual on a pile of books so he could see the whole class from the podium. “These exams could affect your future for many years to come! If you haven’t seriously considered your careers yet, you should now. At the same time, to ensure you all perform to your full potential, we’ll probably have to work even harder than before!”

Next, they spent over an hour reviewing the Summoning Charm, which, according to Professor Flitwick, is definitely going to be on their OWLs exams.

Before get out of class ended, he assigned an unprecedentedly large number of spells as homework.

The situation in the Transformation Class was, if not worse, not much better.

“Without serious study, practice, and application,” Professor McGonagall said seriously, “you will not be able to pass the OWLs exam. I believe that as long as you put in the time and effort, none of the students in this class should fail to obtain the OWLs certificate for the Transfiguration course.”

Neville sighed in disbelief.

“That’s right, you too, Longbottom.” Professor McGonagall’s eagle-like gaze instantly fell on Neville Longbottom. “Your actions were flawless, you just lacked confidence. So today we’re going to start learning the Vanishing Charm. The Vanishing Charm is simpler than the Summoning Charm that you usually practice when you reach the NE.W.Ts level, but it’s still the most difficult spell to appear in your OWLs exams.”

After they started practicing, Harry discovered that the Vanishing Charm was incredibly difficult.

By the end of the two lessons, neither he nor Ron had managed to make their snails disappear, although Ron said hopefully that he thought his snail had become a little lighter in color.

Hermione succeeded on her third try, making her snail disappear and earning Gryffindor a ten-point reward from Professor McGonagall. She was the only one exempt from homework; everyone else had to practice the spell all night, preparing to try it on the snails again the following afternoon.

Time quickly passed to 5 p.m., the time when Umbridge had ordered them to be confined that morning.
After Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class, they didn't even have time to take their bags to the Gryffindor Tower before rushing off to dinner. This way, they could quickly eat something before facing some unknown task that Umbridge had prepared for them.

At five-fifths, Harry and Hermione arrived at the door of Umbridge's office and knocked on the somewhat worn wooden door.

Then they heard a sickeningly sweet voice call out, "Come in."

Harry carefully pushed open the door, with Hermione following behind him.

Harry was very familiar with this office when the previous three owners lived here.

During his time living in Gidrollowhat, the walls were covered with smiling photos of him.

After Lupin moved in, every time he came to see him, he would likely encounter some very interesting evil animal, locked in a cage or box.

When the imposter Moody stayed here, the room was filled with all sorts of tools and handicrafts, used to detect other people's misbehavior and hiding places.

At this moment, the room was almost unrecognizable. Everything was covered with lace-trimmed cloths and tablecloths.

There were also several vases filled with dried flowers, each placed on a separate small cushion.

A set of decorative plates hangs on one wall, each plate featuring a brightly colored large cat, each wearing a different bow around its neck.

These things were so disgusting that Harry was utterly horrified, staring at them blankly. Then Professor Umbridge spoke again:
"Good evening, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger."

Harry was startled and quickly turned around. Even Hermione was staring at the decorative plates with an unusually serious expression.

They didn't notice Umbridge at first because she was wearing a bright red printed long dress, the color of which blended into the tablecloth on the desk behind her, making her almost indistinguishable.

“Good evening, Professor Umbridge,” Harry said awkwardly. Hermione simply nodded at Umbridge, her brow furrowed as if contemplating something of life or death, completely oblivious to the increasingly greasy and disgusting fake smile on Umbridge’s face.

“Alright, sit down.” To Harry’s surprise, Umbridge didn’t seem to say much about Hermione’s obviously “rude” behavior. Instead, she pointed to a small table with lace trim and said that she had already placed two straight-backed chairs next to it. There were two blank parchments on the table, obviously prepared for them.

Harry and Hermione sat silently on the two small chairs.

“Now, I want you to copy a few sentences—no, no, not with your pens,” Umbridge continued with a disgusting laugh, but she quickly stopped them when she saw Harry and Hermione bending down to open their bags.

“You will be using one of my very unusual pens. Here you go.” Umbridge handed Harry and Hermione two long, thin, black quill pens with exceptionally sharp nibs. “I want you to write: I cannot lie.”

She said in a soft tone.

"How many times?" Harry asked, adopting a commendable air of politeness.

“Oh, keep writing until this sentence is etched in your hearts,” Umbridge said in a coquettish voice. “Start writing.”

She walked to her desk and sat down, burying herself in a pile of parchment that looked like a batch of papers waiting to be graded.

Harry picked up the sharp black quill, then realized something was missing, and exchanged a glance with Hermione—

“You didn’t give me any ink,” Hermione questioned.

“Oh, you don’t need ink,” Professor Umbridge said, with a slight smile in his voice.

Harry and Hermione exchanged another puzzled look, then dropped the quill tip onto the paper and wrote: I cannot lie.

Suddenly, Harry gasped in pain, and then he heard Hermione let out a soft scream—

The words appear to be written in bright red ink on the parchment.

At the same time, the words appeared on the back of Harry and Hermione's right hands, deeply embedded in the flesh, as if carved with a scalpel—

However, just as he was staring at these bright red wounds, his skin healed again. The places where the words had been were only slightly redder than before, but they felt smooth to the touch.

"Seven, Hermione, please prepare a potion of White Potion before the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class next term. Harry and many other students will need it."

Harry and Hermione recalled Tyrell's prophecy at almost the same moment.

As Harry and Hermione wrote "I must not lie" over and over again, Umbridge watched them with a twisted sense of pleasure, when suddenly—

Transformed into Dumbledore's likeness, Tyrell, who was preparing lessons in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, raised her head from her desk, gave a cold laugh, and then lowered her eyes, her gaze piercing through space, landing on the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the third floor of Hogwarts—

Umbridge felt a chill run through her body, as if she were being watched by some ferocious beast or demon.

Thank you

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(End of this chapter)