One Friday night, Umbridge patiently waited for Harry to turn up for detention. This had gotten to be quite the habit for the two of them, though she had something very different in mind this time.
Soon enough, the Boy-Who-Lived showed up, looking resigned to his fate already. "How many lines tonight, Professor?" he asked, disinterestedly as he closed the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
"Oh, there will be none of that tonight, Mr. Potter," Umbridge assured the bespectacled boy.
"Really?" Harry asked. He looked and sounded quite relieved. But Umbridge was certain he might actually prefer the Blood Quill to what was coming.
"Indeed, we'll try something different tonight," said Umbridge, "Before we can start, I will need you to undress."
"Undress?" said Harry, perplexed.
"Yes, and do so at once," she ordered him.
Harry was very confused, but by now he knew better than to get on her worse side when he was already on her bad side. Thus, he removed his uniform, from his robe to his vest, his jacket, shirt, tie, trousers, shoes, and socks. Now he stood before his teacher in only his boxers. "So... what now?"
"Now... the punishment can begin," Umbridge said with a smirk, taking out an object from behind her back.
What does she have?
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