bacchusnovels Chapter 535 Hermione and Tonks' Punishment
Chapter 535 Hermione and Tonks' Punishment
Chapter 531 Hermione and Tonks' Punishment (Part 2)
To be honest, Grapland's logic and organization in class are much clearer than Hagrid's.
Aside from the three little ones, probably no one would want Hagrid to come back.
"Where did Hagrid go, Professor?" Harry asked quietly as they were leading the Bowtruckle.
"I don't know." That was Glapland's answer.
This made Harry even more frustrated. The feeling that Gruntland taught better than Hagrid made him feel like he had betrayed Hagrid, which triggered a sense of guilt and made him somewhat anxious.
However, Hermione thought that this was just Harry's way of avoiding drawing sketches.
When it comes to anxiety, who among these people can compare to her?
After the next herbalism class, she's going to find Umbridge.
In the herbal medicine class, as expected, Professor Sprout, like other professors, emphasized the importance of O.W.L. (Outcomes, Benefits, and Lipids) at the very beginning of the lesson.
"Alright everyone, put on your dragon-skin gloves. Today we're going to learn how to take care of the Frog Vine."
As he spoke, Sprout straightened his cuffs and called out names, finally pointing to the purple-green vines in the corner that were twining around flowerpots and making low murmurs—their leaves occasionally twitched as if they were observing their surroundings.
"Although their sap is very effective in treating skin diseases, they can suddenly slap you when you're emotionally unstable."
"1
Upon hearing this, several students quietly took a step back.
Dangerous. That sounds extremely dangerous.
Sprout, seemingly oblivious to the students' subtle movements, enthusiastically held up a guagua vine for everyone to see.
"Do you see this?"
Hermione leaned closer to observe carefully.
"Blackening leaf tips indicate a lack of water, but be careful not to water directly. We should spray with diluted water, three pots per plant, that's just right."
She demonstrated while observing the students' actions.
"Mr. Longbottom, what you're holding is a water spray, not a flamethrower. You can't just wrench them all out at once—Mr. Malfoy, that's not the right direction. Are you washing their faces?"
The three members worked together fairly smoothly as a group.
Although the vines kept getting tangled in their sleeves, at least no one got hurt.
Hermione accurately pointed out that a vine was curling because of excessive spraying, which earned her praise from Sprout, who added another five points to her score.
In Sprout's words, "Miss Granger, you will surely become an excellent herbalist in the future."
But Neville's group next to them didn't seem to be so lucky.
His vine began to writhe violently the moment it came into contact with the spray, and finally "slapped" him across the face, knocking him and the flowerpot to the ground.
Sprout quickly stepped forward, used a spell to hold the vine in place, and helped Neville up while reassuring him, "It's alright, Mr. Longbottom, the Froakie is just overreacting—they're especially sensitive to stressed people."
Malfoy, standing to the side, had already burst out laughing.
But as I laughed, I couldn't laugh anymore.
He suddenly realized something—he and this person shared the same status, both being prefects—which left him speechless. He was actually of the same status as this kind of person—had Dumbledore gone senile, appointing Neville as a prefect?
Once everyone had finished their tasks, Sprout clapped his hands in satisfaction.
"Alright, write your observations in your notebooks, noting the reaction of each plant and the treatment method."
"Your O.W.Ls exam will not focus on the rote memorization of knowledge points from the exam guide; the practical part is the most important."
Clearly, Sprout and Umbridge have diametrically opposed understandings of pedagogy.
For a moment, Hermione felt that Professor Sprout was a kindred spirit.
Before get out of class ended, Sprout added a sentence.
"We'll start learning about Poison Ivy next week. Please prepare protective goggles and antidote powder. You can get these from the school's supplies office. Anyone who doesn't bring them will not be allowed into the greenhouse."
After class, Hermione did not leave with Ron and Harry.
Time was tight; she still needed to find Umbridge—which meant she had to eat dinner in the dining hall in a very short time. However, Hermione underestimated her eating speed.
Twenty minutes before five o'clock, she was already standing in front of Umbridge's office.
*Bang bang* "Come in."
Hermione hesitated at the doorway as she pushed it open.
The room was rather eerie: everything was covered in pink, and pink decorations filled every corner.
A single shade of pink might look nice, but stacking so many shades of pink together can easily create an overly sweet illusion.
Perhaps—it's not just a misperception.
Hermione thought to herself.
"Come in, Miss Granger."
Suppressing her discomfort, Hermione entered the room.
What about Umbridge?
After a careful search, Hermione finally found her—because Umbridge was still wearing her pink cardigan, which made her blend into the pink surroundings of the room, making her difficult to spot even when sitting behind her desk.
Good evening, Professor Umbridge.
"Sit down."
Hermione obediently sat down in the spot Umbridge had indicated—next to the desk, where a chair was placed, and in front of the chair was a separate small table with a blank parchment on it.
Does this mean I'll have to copy something as punishment?
Hermione, a newcomer to the world of punishment, thought to herself.
"Not just today, but you have to come at this time every night tomorrow and the day after."
"Uh... okay?"
"Now you need to copy a few sentences."
really.
Hermione felt very excited.
She guessed right again—it seems that punishment isn't so difficult after all, is it?
Copying books was one of her strengths.
"Write what?"
Hermione took out her quill from her pocket, but Umbridge stopped her.
"Use this pen."
Perhaps Umbridge is just stupid, not bad?
She even provided her with a quill pen!
"Thank you," Hermione said very politely. "What should I copy next?"
"I want you to write: 'Don't talk back to the teacher.'"
"Uh—how many times should I write it?"
"I'll stop writing when I say stop. Let's begin now."
After saying that, she sat back down at her desk and began to deal with the parchment on it.
Look, this isn't a Hogwarts paper.
Instead, it was some official documents from the Ministry of Magic that needed to be processed.
Shifting her gaze back to the table in front of her, Hermione realized that something seemed to be missing.
What is it? It's ink.
Umbridge did not give her ink.
Fortunately, she also carried ink with her.
As Hermione took the ink bottle out of her pocket, she noticed that Umbridge seemed to be secretly watching her, and his expression was very strange when he saw her take the ink bottle out of her pocket.
Is it appreciation? It definitely is.
But the next second, Hermione understood the reason for the strangeness.
As the quill pen tip touched the parchment and the first word slowly appeared in her vision, she gasped in pain.
What's going on? What happened?
The words that appeared on the parchment were written in blood.
The words "Don't talk back to the teacher" were carved into the back of his right hand as if it had been cut with a knife, deeply embedded in the flesh.
Hermione looked at her right hand with tears in her eyes, and in a very short time, the skin healed instantly.
The area where the text was written is slightly redder than before.
Hermione looked up in Umbridge's direction, and Umbridge "happened" to be looking at her too.
"What's wrong?"
"You're using torture," Hermione said angrily.
"Are you injured? Where are you hurt? Let me see," Umbridge asked in return.
This question left Hermione somewhat bewildered.
People can actually laugh when they are extremely angry or speechless. This is the origin of the idiom "to laugh when extremely angry".
Anyway, Hermione was so angry she laughed.
I wanted to say something, but my logic got stuck, and I was caught in some kind of unspeakable loop.
Are you injured? There are no wounds.
But—this is torture.
"Continue, Miss Granger."
Feeling wronged, Hermione couldn't find a way to refute Umbridge, so she could only grit her teeth and continue writing with tears in her eyes.
She herself didn't even know how long she had been writing.
In short, it was already dark outside when I left Umbridge's office, and the castle was deserted.
Without the slightest hesitation—for any hesitation would be disrespectful to Umbridge—Hermione didn't return to her dorm but headed straight for Sean's office.
However, just as she was about to arrive, a thought suddenly stopped her in her tracks.
Umbridge is the Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic, a position clearly higher than Shaun's.
If I go to the professor now, wouldn't that be causing him trouble?
Hermione froze on the spot.
The hem of her robe swayed gently in the faint night breeze, her thoughts drifting into a state of near-isolation and helplessness.
What should we do?
I hesitated for a long time.
final-
Hermione still didn't go to see Sean.
When she got back to her dorm room, she didn't even have the energy to wash up. She just took off her robe, lay down on the bed, and pulled the blanket over herself.
I don't want to think about anything, and I don't want to say anything.
I went straight to sleep.
The next day.
hall.
The three little ones were eating breakfast.
"By the way, how was your solitary confinement at Umbridge's? What did she make you do?"
Hermione hesitated for a moment, then pursed her lips and remained silent.
"What's wrong?" Harry noticed Hermione's expression and asked.
"It's nothing," Hermione shook her head. "She asked me to write sentences."
-
Upon hearing this, Ron swallowed the egg in his mouth.
"That's not too bad, is it? Filch's confinement consisted of polishing trophies or going to the Forbidden Forest, which was rather gloomy. I heard he used to have shackles on his feet—compared to that, writing sentences was too easy."
"Luckily, it's just writing sentences," Harry chimed in.
"Yes," Hermione nodded.
She didn't know how to talk about what Umbridge had done to her. Speaking out would be too humiliating, but remaining silent would be tantamount to condoning it all.
The new day was bright and sunny, the campus was breezy and the clouds were light, and everything was moving in a good direction.
But Hermione couldn't shake off her bad mood.
That lingering ache remained dormant in my heart, gently surging with every stroke of the pen and every touch.
Sean suddenly appeared outside the classroom just as the last class of the afternoon was ending.
Upon seeing that familiar figure, Hermione froze, momentarily speechless, standing there at a loss for what to do.
"Professor, what brings you here?" she stammered.
Sean didn't answer, but simply nodded at her and gestured for her to come with him.
Hermione's heart was pounding all the way.
The moment the office door clicked shut behind them, Sean took Hermione's hand.
"Does it hurt?" he asked.
Hermione's face flushed red, but she was more confused than anything else.
How did the professor know that?
Sean just learned this morning that Hermione was put in solitary confinement by Umbridge last night.
Given Umbridge's modus operandi, it wasn't hard for him to deduce what Hermione might have gone through.
then-
Upon learning that Hermione might go to Umbridge's office again after class this afternoon, Sean waited at the classroom door in advance, just to stop her and prevent her from "walking into the lion's den" once again.
"What do you want to do? Do you want her to experience what you went through yesterday? Or something even worse—"
Hermione was very surprised to hear this.
It was as if he had only just realized Sean's personality.
However—what followed was a feeling of being moved.
It's unbelievable that a professor who is always "pure and kind" and "law-abiding" would do something like this for himself.
How could this not bring tears to one's eyes?
"No, no need. Professor, could you please—"
"What?"
"Leave me here, I don't want to go."
"Okay. I'll talk to that old hag Umbridge. If she asks why you didn't go into seclusion, just say I kept you there. If she still has questions, tell her to come directly to me."
As the two were talking, the door opened again.
Tonks is someone who routinely comes to Sean's office after dinner to receive a different kind of "lockdown" and "punishment."
"You two—?"
"Professor, I think I should leave."
Upon seeing Tonks' appearance, Hermione made a decision immediately.
She might prefer to go to Umbridge rather than stay in the same room with the professor and Tonks.
Especially since Ginny had recently discovered the special relationship between her and the professor, this behavior was particularly awkward and psychologically agonizing.
Umbridge only suffered physical injuries.
Professor, this is psychological harm.
No, you stay.
Sean stretched out his arms and forcefully pressed Hermione back into the chair. Seeing this, Tonks didn't know what kind of expression to maintain or what to think.
She knew the two of them were somewhat close, but now, in front of her—were they not hiding it from others?
For a moment, Tonks recalled what had happened the night before.
"Looks like you're not behaving well. I'll have to use some tricks to deal with an undercover agent like you."
As the words fell, she was horrified to discover—