Fic: PG "The Gift" Umbridge/Bulstrode pg-13
Author:Lash_Larue
Title: "A Teenaged Girl Part 2 - The Gift"
Pairing: Umbridge/Bulstrode
Rating: pg-13
Summary: Millicent spreads her wings
Warnings:Pretty mild for me, if you're here it shouldn't scare you.
Word Count:2000, 'bout.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling
A/N Long delayed, if unanticipated.
A Teenaged Girl - Part Two
The Gift
“I told you Hagrid mated with trolls, and there goes the proof,” said Draco Malfoy as Millicent Bulstrode walked past his retinue in the hall. Millie’s face flushed, but she said nothing, and continued down the hall.
“Twenty points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy,” said a girlish voice.
“Twenty points! For what, exactly?” blustered Draco.
“For insulting a lady, and a member of your own house,” replied Umbridge.
“Lady? That overgrown she-troll?” spluttered Draco.
“De-ten-tion, Mr. Malfoy,” sang Umbridge.
“You can’t give me detention, I’m on the Inquisitorial Squad!” protested Malfoy. Umbridge’s stubby fingers plucked the small silver “I” from his robes.
“No longer, Mr. Malfoy, I will not tolerate boorish behavior and disloyalties to my house from any of the Inquisitorial Squad members, the rest of you pay heed,” said Umbridge sternly.
“Just you wait until my father hears about this, you-“
“I have no intention of waiting, Mr. Malfoy. I am sending an owl to your father immediately, to inform him of the behavior of his son and heir. I suggest that you rest your writing hand all that you can for the rest of the day; we are going to work on your penmanship rather hard this evening. Come to my office right after dinner, there will be no need to bring a quill.” Umbridge smiled sweetly at the assembled Slytherins, and proceeded to her office. No one found anything to say.
“Did you hear?” Ron asked Harry and Hermione over dinner. “Umbridge gave Malfoy detention!”
“You can’t be serious,” said Harry.
“Oh, but I am, just look at him,” replied Ron. Draco was picking at his food, and spending an inordinate amount of time staring at his hand. While they were watching, a huge owl glided into the Hall, and landed in front of Draco. Draco’s face lit up, and he eagerly snatched the message from the bird, which promptly left.
“I suppose that is from his Father, telling him he’s sorted things out,” huffed Hermione. But Draco’s face fell as he read the note, and turned even paler than usual.
“Doesn’t look like it,” opined Harry, “looks like Malfoy is finally going to get what’s coming to him. I may have to stop hating Umbridge quite so much. What on earth did Malfoy do?”
“He insulted Millicent Bulstrode,” supplied Ron, “said she was part troll or something.”
“I suppose it’s possible,” speculated Hermione. She looked across at Millicent, who caught her looking, and smiled. It was a very nice smile, and Hermione was shocked, but she shyly returned the smile.
“Blimey!” exclaimed Ron, “who knew Bulstrode could smile?”
“Come to it,” speculated Harry, “in Slytherin, she likely never had a reason to.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” agreed Hermione.
Millicent was hiding around the corner from Umbridge’s office late that night. She saw Draco Malfoy leave, cradling his hand and muttering under his breath. When he was out of sight, Millicent tapped softly on the door, Umbridge opened it. “Why did you give Draco detention? You know his father can cause trouble for you,” asked Millicent.
“The Minister has far more important things on his mind than a disgruntled schoolboy, even one with a rich father,” replied Umbridge. “Besides that, it is my duty as a teacher to teach the whole student, a young man in Mr. Malfoy’s position should have better manners.” Umbridge’s face colored, and she swallowed. “And I will not see you mistreated any longer. I will not allow the cruelty I faced as a student to continue in my sight or hearing. Especially not to you, Miss Bulstrode.” Umbridge reached out her hand towards Millie’s face, but snatched it back quickly. On impulse, Millie seized Umbridge’s hand, squeezed it, and kissed the palm. The flush deepened on Umbridge’s face, and unaccustomed warmth spread through her.
“No one has ever cared about me here, not until you,” whispered Millicent, her eyes shining.
“Yes, well,” stammered Umbridge, “it is late Miss Bulstrode, and you should hurry back to your dormitory. I shall see you in class tomorrow, dear.” Millicent looked into Dolores Umbridge’s eyes, and smiled again, Dolores felt her heart squeeze.
“Goodnight, Professor,” said Millicent, and she turned to leave. Umbridge watched her out of sight, then closed her office door and sat behind her desk, where she stared long at her hand before laying it against her cheek.
“And where have you been, Bulstrode?” questioned a sulky Malfoy when she entered the common room.
“I can’t see that it is any of your business, Malfoy. How’s the hand?” replied Millicent.
“You’ll pay for this, I don’t know what you’ve got on Umbridge, but you’ll pay for this. And so will she, the great toad.” Quick as a flash, Draco found himself dangling in the air, Millicent’s fists wrapped in his robes.
“Don’t you threaten Professor Umbridge in front of me, Draco Malfoy. She’s not afraid of you, and neither am I. Why don’t you just grow up?” Millicent tossed him into a chair, and headed off up the stairs. Malfoy was so surprised that he didn’t even think of hexing her. He looked anxiously around the common room, and breathed a huge sigh of relief that it was empty. Draco had had enough humiliation for one day.
Millicent made no reference to their encounter at breakfast the next morning, indeed, she seemed determined to act as though nothing at all had happened. Malfoy suspected this attitude, but was nonetheless thankful that the incident did not look like becoming common knowledge. “Would you please pass the sausages, Millicent?” he asked her.
“Sure Draco,” she replied, and handed the platter to him with a smile.
“Thank you,” said a stunned Draco. The smile changed her face entirely, in fact, she was almost - pretty. “I must just be in shock, or something,” thought Draco, but his glance often fell on Millicent during the rest of the meal.
************************************************************************************
The ensuing weeks brought further surprises, as Hogwarts gradually became accustomed to a very different Millicent Bulstrode.
“Professor Umbridge,” questioned Millicent after class one day, “will you be staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas Holiday?”
“Why yes, Miss Bulstrode, I simply have too much to do to take the time off,” answered Umbridge. “And you, Miss Bulstrode, are you looking forward to being with your family? Lots of presents, I hope?”
“My parents are always generous, yes. But sometimes I wonder if Christmas ought to be about more personal gifts. Happy Holidays, Professor,” Millicent left the classroom, and a bemused Umbridge, behind her. Shortly afterward a school owl flew unnoticed from the grounds.
************************************************************************************
“Aren’t you packed yet, Millie?” queried Pansy Parkinson.
“Not going home this year, O.W.L.s are coming up, and I want to do well. I’m going to take advantage of the quiet to do some extra studying.”
“You can’t be serious!” exclaimed Pansy, “Miss Christmas?”
“I have to look out for my future, Pansy; my parents aren’t as rich as yours. And let’s face it, no rich boy is about to fall for me.” Pansy regarded her for a moment, but unfortunately this argument made perfect sense to her.
“Well, I suppose your parents will send the presents along anyway, so maybe it’s not such a loss,” she said in what she imagined to be a supportive way. “And that’s what counts, after all, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” answered Millicent slowly, “gifts are an important part of Christmas…”
“Finally,” Dolores Umbridge said to herself, “the little brats are gone. Most of them anyway, I’ll have the elves bring my meals up here and enjoy some quiet and solitude. Yes, solitude…” She enjoyed a long bath, and a quiet supper, alone, and then went to bed.
“I’ll go and see her tomorrow,” thought Millicent as she stretched out in her bed; all of her roommates had gone home. She was a bit surprised to realize that she missed them a little.
Christmas at Hogwarts was the usual splendid affair, the food was sublime, and the small gathering of people at the dinner appeared to embrace the seasonal spirit. Millicent suspected that Snape had smiled once, but it might have been gas. After dinner, Millicent made use of the Prefect’s bath, using the password Pansy had given her as a Christmas present, and she spent an unaccustomed amount of time bathing and tending to her personal grooming. It was quite late when she was done, and dressed in her very prettiest robes she slipped quietly through the deserted halls. She knocked on a door, and waited. She knocked again. The door opened a crack.
“Miss Bulstrode,” said Dolores Umbridge in surprise, “whatever are you doing out this late?”
“I need to talk to you Professor, may I come in?”
“Well, yes, of course dear, are you quite all right?” answered Umbridge as she swung the door open.
“Not completely, but I believe that I will be. And I have you to thank for it, Professor Umbridge,” answered Millicent as she turned to face the bewildered shorter woman. “I’ve been trying what you said, Professor. I’ve been letting people see the girl inside, and some of them are responding. I know it will take time, and I know that it won’t be easy, but Hermione Granger actually smiled at me the other day, and Draco hasn’t called me Troll Girl since his detention.”
“That’s wonderful, Miss Bulstrode!” exclaimed Dolores as the color rose in her face. It was a novel experience for her. Here was someone thanking her for actually making a positive difference in their life. She found it remarkably pleasant.
“I wanted to give you something for Christmas, something that shows how grateful I am for how you have helped me,” said Millicent hesitantly.
“That is very sweet of you Millicent,” replied Umbridge, “but it is not necessary. I am thrilled to have helped, but really, it is you who have made this happen.”
“What if I just want to give it to you, then?”
“Well, if it means something to you, of course I would be delighted to accept,” responded Umbridge.
“I hope you will be. It’s something that I think you might like, but I could be wrong. You might not want it at all.”
“I’m sure I will appreciate it, whatever it is, Ms. Bullstrode. The fact that you want to give it to me will make it a treasure.” Millicent drew a deep breath.
“All right then, here you are, Professor,” said Millicent. She spread her arms wide.
“Is it in your pocket, dear?” asked Umbridge as she peered at the tall young woman before her.
“No. It’s me,” answered Millicent.
“You? I’m afraid I don’t under…” Dolores Umbridge flushed a dark crimson, and her heart leapt into her throat.
“Me,” answered Millicent. “I know I’m assuming a lot. I know that this has to be secret if it happens, you are my teacher, and no one can know. I know all that, but I think that I feel something between us, and if it has to wait to come out in the open, or even if it never can, whatever it turns out to be, I want to remember this Christmas as the one I gave myself to the woman who changed my life.”
“Miss Bulstro- Millicent, I scarcely know what to say, I simply cannot…”
“Cannot? Or don’t want to?” interrupted Millicent.
“I…” Umbridge’s mouth was suddenly too dry to speak, but even in her silence she could not hide the look of desire that came unbidden to her face.
Millicent Bulstrode was in many respects innocent. She was virtually without experience of romance. But she was a woman, and she sensed what the look on the face of the woman in front of her meant, and it made her feel strong. She opened her robes and dropped them to the floor, standing before Dolores Umbridge wearing nothing but those delicate underpants that Umbridge had washed those weeks ago. She held out her hand, and Umbridge took it in her own smaller, trembling hand.
“Tonight, if never again,” said Millicent Bulstrode, “we are Millicent and Dolores, and we are women in love.”
Title: "A Teenaged Girl Part 2 - The Gift"
Pairing: Umbridge/Bulstrode
Rating: pg-13
Summary: Millicent spreads her wings
Warnings:Pretty mild for me, if you're here it shouldn't scare you.
Word Count:2000, 'bout.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling
A/N Long delayed, if unanticipated.
A Teenaged Girl - Part Two
The Gift
“I told you Hagrid mated with trolls, and there goes the proof,” said Draco Malfoy as Millicent Bulstrode walked past his retinue in the hall. Millie’s face flushed, but she said nothing, and continued down the hall.
“Twenty points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy,” said a girlish voice.
“Twenty points! For what, exactly?” blustered Draco.
“For insulting a lady, and a member of your own house,” replied Umbridge.
“Lady? That overgrown she-troll?” spluttered Draco.
“De-ten-tion, Mr. Malfoy,” sang Umbridge.
“You can’t give me detention, I’m on the Inquisitorial Squad!” protested Malfoy. Umbridge’s stubby fingers plucked the small silver “I” from his robes.
“No longer, Mr. Malfoy, I will not tolerate boorish behavior and disloyalties to my house from any of the Inquisitorial Squad members, the rest of you pay heed,” said Umbridge sternly.
“Just you wait until my father hears about this, you-“
“I have no intention of waiting, Mr. Malfoy. I am sending an owl to your father immediately, to inform him of the behavior of his son and heir. I suggest that you rest your writing hand all that you can for the rest of the day; we are going to work on your penmanship rather hard this evening. Come to my office right after dinner, there will be no need to bring a quill.” Umbridge smiled sweetly at the assembled Slytherins, and proceeded to her office. No one found anything to say.
“Did you hear?” Ron asked Harry and Hermione over dinner. “Umbridge gave Malfoy detention!”
“You can’t be serious,” said Harry.
“Oh, but I am, just look at him,” replied Ron. Draco was picking at his food, and spending an inordinate amount of time staring at his hand. While they were watching, a huge owl glided into the Hall, and landed in front of Draco. Draco’s face lit up, and he eagerly snatched the message from the bird, which promptly left.
“I suppose that is from his Father, telling him he’s sorted things out,” huffed Hermione. But Draco’s face fell as he read the note, and turned even paler than usual.
“Doesn’t look like it,” opined Harry, “looks like Malfoy is finally going to get what’s coming to him. I may have to stop hating Umbridge quite so much. What on earth did Malfoy do?”
“He insulted Millicent Bulstrode,” supplied Ron, “said she was part troll or something.”
“I suppose it’s possible,” speculated Hermione. She looked across at Millicent, who caught her looking, and smiled. It was a very nice smile, and Hermione was shocked, but she shyly returned the smile.
“Blimey!” exclaimed Ron, “who knew Bulstrode could smile?”
“Come to it,” speculated Harry, “in Slytherin, she likely never had a reason to.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” agreed Hermione.
Millicent was hiding around the corner from Umbridge’s office late that night. She saw Draco Malfoy leave, cradling his hand and muttering under his breath. When he was out of sight, Millicent tapped softly on the door, Umbridge opened it. “Why did you give Draco detention? You know his father can cause trouble for you,” asked Millicent.
“The Minister has far more important things on his mind than a disgruntled schoolboy, even one with a rich father,” replied Umbridge. “Besides that, it is my duty as a teacher to teach the whole student, a young man in Mr. Malfoy’s position should have better manners.” Umbridge’s face colored, and she swallowed. “And I will not see you mistreated any longer. I will not allow the cruelty I faced as a student to continue in my sight or hearing. Especially not to you, Miss Bulstrode.” Umbridge reached out her hand towards Millie’s face, but snatched it back quickly. On impulse, Millie seized Umbridge’s hand, squeezed it, and kissed the palm. The flush deepened on Umbridge’s face, and unaccustomed warmth spread through her.
“No one has ever cared about me here, not until you,” whispered Millicent, her eyes shining.
“Yes, well,” stammered Umbridge, “it is late Miss Bulstrode, and you should hurry back to your dormitory. I shall see you in class tomorrow, dear.” Millicent looked into Dolores Umbridge’s eyes, and smiled again, Dolores felt her heart squeeze.
“Goodnight, Professor,” said Millicent, and she turned to leave. Umbridge watched her out of sight, then closed her office door and sat behind her desk, where she stared long at her hand before laying it against her cheek.
“And where have you been, Bulstrode?” questioned a sulky Malfoy when she entered the common room.
“I can’t see that it is any of your business, Malfoy. How’s the hand?” replied Millicent.
“You’ll pay for this, I don’t know what you’ve got on Umbridge, but you’ll pay for this. And so will she, the great toad.” Quick as a flash, Draco found himself dangling in the air, Millicent’s fists wrapped in his robes.
“Don’t you threaten Professor Umbridge in front of me, Draco Malfoy. She’s not afraid of you, and neither am I. Why don’t you just grow up?” Millicent tossed him into a chair, and headed off up the stairs. Malfoy was so surprised that he didn’t even think of hexing her. He looked anxiously around the common room, and breathed a huge sigh of relief that it was empty. Draco had had enough humiliation for one day.
Millicent made no reference to their encounter at breakfast the next morning, indeed, she seemed determined to act as though nothing at all had happened. Malfoy suspected this attitude, but was nonetheless thankful that the incident did not look like becoming common knowledge. “Would you please pass the sausages, Millicent?” he asked her.
“Sure Draco,” she replied, and handed the platter to him with a smile.
“Thank you,” said a stunned Draco. The smile changed her face entirely, in fact, she was almost - pretty. “I must just be in shock, or something,” thought Draco, but his glance often fell on Millicent during the rest of the meal.
************************************************************************************
The ensuing weeks brought further surprises, as Hogwarts gradually became accustomed to a very different Millicent Bulstrode.
“Professor Umbridge,” questioned Millicent after class one day, “will you be staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas Holiday?”
“Why yes, Miss Bulstrode, I simply have too much to do to take the time off,” answered Umbridge. “And you, Miss Bulstrode, are you looking forward to being with your family? Lots of presents, I hope?”
“My parents are always generous, yes. But sometimes I wonder if Christmas ought to be about more personal gifts. Happy Holidays, Professor,” Millicent left the classroom, and a bemused Umbridge, behind her. Shortly afterward a school owl flew unnoticed from the grounds.
************************************************************************************
“Aren’t you packed yet, Millie?” queried Pansy Parkinson.
“Not going home this year, O.W.L.s are coming up, and I want to do well. I’m going to take advantage of the quiet to do some extra studying.”
“You can’t be serious!” exclaimed Pansy, “Miss Christmas?”
“I have to look out for my future, Pansy; my parents aren’t as rich as yours. And let’s face it, no rich boy is about to fall for me.” Pansy regarded her for a moment, but unfortunately this argument made perfect sense to her.
“Well, I suppose your parents will send the presents along anyway, so maybe it’s not such a loss,” she said in what she imagined to be a supportive way. “And that’s what counts, after all, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” answered Millicent slowly, “gifts are an important part of Christmas…”
“Finally,” Dolores Umbridge said to herself, “the little brats are gone. Most of them anyway, I’ll have the elves bring my meals up here and enjoy some quiet and solitude. Yes, solitude…” She enjoyed a long bath, and a quiet supper, alone, and then went to bed.
“I’ll go and see her tomorrow,” thought Millicent as she stretched out in her bed; all of her roommates had gone home. She was a bit surprised to realize that she missed them a little.
Christmas at Hogwarts was the usual splendid affair, the food was sublime, and the small gathering of people at the dinner appeared to embrace the seasonal spirit. Millicent suspected that Snape had smiled once, but it might have been gas. After dinner, Millicent made use of the Prefect’s bath, using the password Pansy had given her as a Christmas present, and she spent an unaccustomed amount of time bathing and tending to her personal grooming. It was quite late when she was done, and dressed in her very prettiest robes she slipped quietly through the deserted halls. She knocked on a door, and waited. She knocked again. The door opened a crack.
“Miss Bulstrode,” said Dolores Umbridge in surprise, “whatever are you doing out this late?”
“I need to talk to you Professor, may I come in?”
“Well, yes, of course dear, are you quite all right?” answered Umbridge as she swung the door open.
“Not completely, but I believe that I will be. And I have you to thank for it, Professor Umbridge,” answered Millicent as she turned to face the bewildered shorter woman. “I’ve been trying what you said, Professor. I’ve been letting people see the girl inside, and some of them are responding. I know it will take time, and I know that it won’t be easy, but Hermione Granger actually smiled at me the other day, and Draco hasn’t called me Troll Girl since his detention.”
“That’s wonderful, Miss Bulstrode!” exclaimed Dolores as the color rose in her face. It was a novel experience for her. Here was someone thanking her for actually making a positive difference in their life. She found it remarkably pleasant.
“I wanted to give you something for Christmas, something that shows how grateful I am for how you have helped me,” said Millicent hesitantly.
“That is very sweet of you Millicent,” replied Umbridge, “but it is not necessary. I am thrilled to have helped, but really, it is you who have made this happen.”
“What if I just want to give it to you, then?”
“Well, if it means something to you, of course I would be delighted to accept,” responded Umbridge.
“I hope you will be. It’s something that I think you might like, but I could be wrong. You might not want it at all.”
“I’m sure I will appreciate it, whatever it is, Ms. Bullstrode. The fact that you want to give it to me will make it a treasure.” Millicent drew a deep breath.
“All right then, here you are, Professor,” said Millicent. She spread her arms wide.
“Is it in your pocket, dear?” asked Umbridge as she peered at the tall young woman before her.
“No. It’s me,” answered Millicent.
“You? I’m afraid I don’t under…” Dolores Umbridge flushed a dark crimson, and her heart leapt into her throat.
“Me,” answered Millicent. “I know I’m assuming a lot. I know that this has to be secret if it happens, you are my teacher, and no one can know. I know all that, but I think that I feel something between us, and if it has to wait to come out in the open, or even if it never can, whatever it turns out to be, I want to remember this Christmas as the one I gave myself to the woman who changed my life.”
“Miss Bulstro- Millicent, I scarcely know what to say, I simply cannot…”
“Cannot? Or don’t want to?” interrupted Millicent.
“I…” Umbridge’s mouth was suddenly too dry to speak, but even in her silence she could not hide the look of desire that came unbidden to her face.
Millicent Bulstrode was in many respects innocent. She was virtually without experience of romance. But she was a woman, and she sensed what the look on the face of the woman in front of her meant, and it made her feel strong. She opened her robes and dropped them to the floor, standing before Dolores Umbridge wearing nothing but those delicate underpants that Umbridge had washed those weeks ago. She held out her hand, and Umbridge took it in her own smaller, trembling hand.
“Tonight, if never again,” said Millicent Bulstrode, “we are Millicent and Dolores, and we are women in love.”