Umbridge woke sometime after ten that night. When she came to, her eyes were unfocused, as though she had been having a very, very long dream.
A few breaths later, the fiery pain all over her skin jolted her into raising her tilted head.
That movement made the friction between her clothes and skin hurt even more. The Cruciatus-like agony immediately tortured her into curling into a ball of flesh on the chair.
Granger! Yes, Granger!
Nothing but pure hatred remained in Umbridge's eyes. Trembling, she reached out and pulled the wand from her pocket.
A faint light illuminated the entire office. The first thing she saw was not anything else, but seven sheets of parchment neatly arranged before her.
They were densely covered, every last inch packed with insulting words.
"Ah—" In her agitation, she fell straight out of the chair.
How could her already battered skin withstand such a blow? Tears burst from her eyes in pain, and she felt as though her backside were about to split open.
Her sharp, piercing whimpers echoed through the office like the cries of a ghost.
On the floor above, the Owl Court Club activity room was holding a grand celebration party.
"To our great Big Sister Head Hermione!"
"Down with Umbridge!"
"Resist tyranny!"
"Cheers!"
Surrounded by everyone, Hermione raised her glass of juice with a smile.
The scene felt familiar, except the main character had changed from Vincent to her.
"We prepared this for you." George held up a crown that was not particularly refined but glittered brightly. "This honor belongs to you alone, President Granger."
The smile on Hermione's face froze at once, and the corner of her eye twitched sharply.
She had indeed made Umbridge suffer terribly, but a crown was going too far.
"And this." Fred shook