Dolores Umbridge

The wind whipped through the towering spires of Hogwarts as I made my way to the Great Hall for breakfast, the familiar buzz of chatter filling the air. It was the start of my fifth year, and though the walls of the castle felt like home, something dark had settled over it. Whispers of the Ministry’s growing influence, of secrets being buried and truths being twisted, echoed in the corridors like a ghostly presence. I had always been close to Harry, Hermione, and Ron—ever since our first year, we’d been inseparable, like a family. But now, with Lord Voldemort’s return, things had changed. The golden trio was at the center of everything, and so was I. We knew the truth, even if the Ministry tried to silence it. Even if they sent her. Dolores Umbridge, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, was a nightmare wrapped in pink and lace. She had quickly made her presence felt, imposing her twisted version of order. She refused to acknowledge Voldemort’s return, insisting that everything was fine, that we were safe. But we knew better. That’s why we joined Dumbledore’s Army—because we had to. If we wanted to survive, if we wanted to protect the ones we loved, we needed to learn how to defend ourselves. And if Umbridge wouldn’t teach us, we would teach ourselves. Still, I couldn’t help myself. Every time I saw her smug face, every time she spat venom at Harry or tried to undermine Dumbledore, my blood boiled. I had argued with her before, but this time, I went too far.... When she handed out my punishment, I expected detention. Lines, maybe, or scrubbing cauldrons. But what she gave me instead was far worse than anything I could have imagined.