DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS was possibly the most boring lesson, and the absolute worst way to end the day.

All throughout the lesson, Ophelia and Colin (who'd both sat beside each other at the far end of the class) kept looking at the clock behind Professor Umbridge's desk, and hoping that time would pass faster so they could do other more interesting things.

Ophelia absolutely hated Professor Umbridge's class. It seemed as if the professor was getting onto Ophelia's nerves intentionally. She had again, worn entirely pink, and it was hard for Ophelia to say which of her outfits was worse. Yesterday's, or today's.

One and a half hours they just sat in their places, reading the stupid Beginner's Guide to Defense Against the Dark Arts Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard.

It was possibly the most boring book to ever exist, in Ophelia's opinion.

There was no practical to the classroom, and Professor Umbridge did not get up and teach.

All throughout the lesson, she sat at her desk, drinking tea from a pink teacup and staring at the silent class through her beady eyes.

Anyone that dared to question her, ended up in detention.

So nobody spoke.

At all.

Well, Ginny Weasley couldn't talk at all, during class, seeing as she had no mouth, otherwise Ophelia was sure she would have caused a scene on how there was no spell work involved.

From what she'd heard from Mariana, Madam Pomfrey did not know how to bring back Ginny's mouth, without her having to take a potion.

Through which, Ophelia laughed hysterically because Ginny didn't have a mouth to take in the potion.

She didn't tell anyone, but the spell would wear off in a couple more hours.

The best part of it was how Ginny and Mariana could no longer gossip or talk or giggle during classes, so Ophelia enjoyed the silence while she could.

After what seemed like one and a half endless hours, Defense Against the Dark Arts class was finally over.

Ophelia couldn't be more glad. Slamming her stupid Wilbert Slinkhard book shut, she stood up, and turned around prepared to walk out of the class. 

"Miss Malfoy," came a girlish voice from the front of the class, and Ophelia automatically knew it was Professor Umbridge.

She turned around, her blonde ponytail swaying slightly as she moved to face the Professor. "Yes, Professor?"

"The pink ribbon," Professor Umbridge said sweetly. "In your hair," she elaborated. "Make sure I never see it in my class again."

Ophelia's eyes widened, her jaw dropped, and she couldn't believe her ears. "Excuse me?" her voice was low-toned, and it cut icily through the air.

"My students are not allowed to wear fancy ornaments in my classroom," Professor Umbridge prompted. 

"It's just a ribbon!" Ophelia defended, her left hand reaching upwards to touch the pink satin ribbon in her hair.

"And when I say it is not allowed, it is not allowed," Professor Umbridge said firmly, before waving her wand at Ophelia's hair.

The next thing Ophelia knew, her ribbon was slit into two, as it lay on the floor, a clean cut between the perfect bow she had tied earlier that morning.

Her blonde curls, having nothing to hold them up, came falling down her shoulders in soft waves, some locks of shorter hair falling into her face and covering her eyes.

Ophelia narrowed her eyes and huffed as she stared at the two pieces of her favorite ribbon, now at the floor.

"We'll see about that," the blonde muttered, before grabbing her back, and exiting the classroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

"What did she want?" Colin asked, leaning against the wall, looking at an open book in his hands.

Ophelia didn't answer.

Colin looked up. "Ophelia?" he murmured, coming closer to her. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Ophelia took a deep breath, moving her blonde strands of hair out of her eyes. 

"Wait—" Colin suddenly spoke, gently touching her shoulder to stop her from moving further. "Why's your hair like this? Where's your ribbon?"

Ophelia shook her head. "Professor Umbridge took it," she cleared her throat, shaking her head slightly. "She said it wasn't allowed in her classroom. Neither are any accessories."

Colin stared blankly.

"She did what?"

Ophelia shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"No, no, no," Colin shook his head, walking faster to catch up with her. "You don't understand. It does matter. Those Hufflepuff twins were both wearing accessories, and that Abbott girl had a pink ribbon in her hair."

"So?"

"So she didn't tell them anything," Colin pointed out. "She only told you."

"That's not fair," Ophelia pouted, folding her arms.

"No, it's not," Colin agreed, before moving closer to her. "But you know what?" he told her. "She only did it because she sees you as competition," he smirked.

"What do you mean?" she asked sharply, her head snapping towards him.

"For the smartest witch of the year, you don't seem to understand," Colin chuckled. "I mean that she noticed that everything of yours is pink. Your bag, your earrings, your books, your quill... She obviously sees that your favorite color is pink. And you definitely wear it better than her."

"So wait—" Ophelia looked up at him quizzically. "She's jealous?"

"Precisely," grinned Colin. "So she's trying to take you down."

"That's so petty minded!" Ophelia exclaimed, throwing up her hands in the air, exasperated. 

"Exactly," Colin told her excitedly. "It means it's time for a pink war!" he exclaimed.

Ophelia rolled her eyes. "What, no!— You just want drama!"

"Suit yourself," Colin shrugged. "But that would slowly mean she'd take everything pink of yours away. One by one, every class, she'll make you get rid of something pink."

Ophelia's eyes widened. "She wouldn't do that, will she?"

"Would you like to find out?" Colin smirked, enjoying how worked up she was getting over a simple color.

"Absolutely not!" Ophelia hugged her pink bag.

"Then you can't let her win, sweetheart," Colin said mischievously.

Ophelia felt her cheeks suddenly redden. Bending her head lower, she let her blonde hair cover her face, and thus, obscuring her blushing cheeks, she said nothing as they walked back to the Gryffindor common room.

Before she could say the password to the Fat Lady, Colin stopped her. "Wait—"

She looked up at him, quirking a brow. 

"Erm—" he began nervously, before looking through his bag. "Got a spare ribbon," he said sheepishly, taking out a black ribbon from his front pocket. "It's my sisters.."

"Thank you," Ophelia said softly, smiling slightly at how nervous he was, when talking about girlish things. Gently pinching the ribbon from his fingers, she re-did her hair again.

"Sure."

The next Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Ophelia made sure to wear a pink ribbon in her hair.

Not only that, but she made sure to apply a light pink lip-gloss, and wear pink eye-shadow. She also used a pink tiepin, and wore a pink, cashmere sweater over her uniform instead of her robes.

And then, she felt ready for Professor Umbridge.

Funnily enough, when she attended the rest of her classes like this, nobody told her anything about her attire. Not even Professor McGonagall, who did not like girls dressing up in class, normally.

It was all very peculiar.

Professor Umbridge this time, confiscated her pink ribbon, and used a spell to remove Ophelia's makeup. 

But that didn't stop Ophelia. Professor Umbridge couldn't exactly take everything of hers that was pink, right?

She would just have to find out.

On Friday, Ophelia stood at the Quidditch pitch, her firebolt in her hand, hair tied up into a ponytail, dressed in a pink tracksuit.

Harry Potter was not present for the tryouts, as he had detention with Umbridge.

All the students who were present glanced at her and joined Angelina Johnson, the captain, sidelining her from the group.

"Hey Malfoy," one of the Weasley twins commented. "The Slytherin team is that way."

The rest of the team guffawed. 

Ophelia narrowed her eyes. "Weasley, I heard there's a raffle draw for a knut. Shouldn't your whole family be there to try your luck?"

Fred scowled, but Ophelia interrupted him before he could speak.

"Oh, wait. Your family would be the only one there," she scoffed, before rolling her eyes.

The Weasley twins kept quiet after that.

Everyone got a chance to fly around the pitch, and try their hand at the position they wanted, until it was just Ophelia left.

Clutching her firebolt, she stepped up to Angelina, tilting her head up.

"Malfoy, I guess you're up next," Angelina sighed.

Ophelia took off on her firebolt, after she saw Colin wave from the stands and give her a thumbs up, and she soared straight into the sky, and a ninety degree angle from the floor.

She could fly well. She was a magnificent flyer. Quick, nimble, and speedy. She could play any position well enough, having practiced the game ever since she was old enough to fly.

She did a couple of loop-de-loops, a wronski feint, and even turned a full three-sixty while flying.

When she landed on the floor, she could tell everyone else was impressed, judging by the looks of surprise on their faces.

She left without another word.

Results were posted on the board in the common room, two days later.

Ophelia rushed to look at the new Quidditch team.

Chasers: Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet.
Beaters: Fred and George Weasley
Keeper: Ronald Weasley
Seeker: Harry Potter

Reserve: Ophelia Malfoy.

Her heart sank. She didn't make it. It was obvious she was a much better flyer than most of them, but for some reason, she was never chosen.

She noticed her name as the reserve. It was still an improvement from last year. Better than nothing, she thought.

She might get a change to play, she hoped.

The next Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Ophelia wore even more pink. Instead of a red and gold tie, she wore a light pink and white one, paired with her white, silk, school-uniform shirt.

Professor Umbridge confiscated the tie, and her ribbon.

Back and forth, Professor Umbridge and Ophelia were both fighting for the color pink. 

A month later, and Professor Umbridge's collection of Ophelia's pink things kept growing. Every class, Ophelia would do something more.

Even the teachers and students had noticed something was up. Up until her third year, pink was her color. Now she had to share it with someone who abused it.

Colin kept taking photographs, finding it amusing.

The Hogwarts students and teachers had secretly taken sides. 

It had sort of become a Professor Umbridge and Ophelia Malfoy war, and Professor McGonagall's team secretly rooted for Ophelia to win, and gain free liberty of dressing in whatever color she wanted.

While the minimum group, the Slytherin and half-Gryffindor group, just wanted to see Ophelia lose something. They believed that she was spoiled too much and deserved to be taught a lesson.

 Defense Against the Dark Arts class had now become an event where she went all out.

 Ophelia now dressed herself up entirely in pink, as if Professor Umbridge's class was a fashion show. Pink accessories, pink clothing, pink items, pink everything. Instead of wearing a pink ribbon in her hair, she had dyed the tips of her blonde hair pink, and she found that they looked fabulous.

Her silk shirt remained white, but she wore a pink skirt instead of her grey Hogwarts skirt, white socks, and kept on her manticore-leather, heeled boots.

She wore silver hooped earrings, and a pink lipstick to emphasize her outfit. She no longer tied her hair up in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but rather, left it down, freely around her shoulders, so Professor Umbridge could see the tips of her pink hair clearly.

When she entered class like this, everyone stared at her. Professor Umbridge fumed.

"Detention!" she had shouted at Ophelia.

So later that day, towards the evening, Ophelia left for detention, knocking on Professor Umbridge's door.

"Enter," the Professor giggled.

Ophelia entered, her throat dry, as she stared at the room. Cat portraits everywhere. 

Pink. Pink. Pink. And more pink. 

Ophelia couldn't bear it. The Professor had a terrible choice of design! She thought of how wonderful her lovely, pink room looked, back in Malfoy Manor.

She noticed Professor Umbridge sitting on the desk, and Harry Potter, sitting opposite her. He was writing lines too, in deep, red ink.

It was just lines, nothing big.

"Sit down, dear," Umbridge said sweetly.

Ophelia sat.

"You will be doing lines for me, Miss Malfoy," Professor Umbridge continued. "You will write 'I will never wear pink.' Are we clear?"

Ophelia's throat went dry. "Yes, Professor," she prompted emotionlessly. "How many times?"

"Just enough for the message to sink in," Umbridge gave her a rather sickening grin. "And you won't need any ink. You'll be using my special quill."

Ophelia said nothing, but took the quill, and slowly began writing the sentence.

I will never wear pink.

The sentence was painful to think about, but even more so painful to write.

Not just mentally, it seemed.

There was physical pain too, and it was—

Ophelia gasped, as her eyes widened in horror and shock, at the words forming at the back of her hand.

I will never wear pink.

The words suddenly faded, leaving Ophelia with red skin, where the letters were only a few moments before, and she had the sudden urge to itch.

"Is there a problem, dear?" Professor Umbridge asked smugly.

Ophelia shook her head, and began to write, tears stinging her eyes.

I will never wear pink.

{ so, updates might be slow from now on as i have a LOT going on. i may update only twice a week, or once. hope that's okay with you guys.
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{MAR 31. 2023}