Millie felt the slap more than she heard it. It might as well have been a slap, her cheeks stung and her mouth hung open in pained shock. Her eyes darted up quickly to Professor Foxwood, who stood as still and menacing as a suit of armor at the center of the room, expecting obedience and discipline under his watch.
Discipline, she felt, that was exceedingly disproportionate.
She glanced over at a suddenly-humbled Autumn, who looked worse than Millie had found her this summer. Then to the still-indignant Minnie, and she had to look away for fear of laughing all over again in shock. The seventh year looked like a war veteran, her whole ensemble in disarray with a bloody face to match. It should have been punishment enough, Millie already felt humiliated by the whole ordeal and it wasn't even her clothes torn to pieces.
Part of her wanted to raise the point to Foxwood. Ravenclaw had been thoroughly disciplined now, Millie could argue. They didn't need so many points removed —from a balance of zero, for that matter!— nor did the whole school need to see her housemates playing out their mealtime detentions for their amusement. That was nearly cruel, and certainly not fair in the slightest!
The young witch kept quiet. Her eyes fell back down to the floor, catching a glimpse of her boots still standing upright, waiting for the witch to fill them again. The witch who would stand tall, who was charging into her new term with eyes on adventure, who had the willingness to persevere despite struggles and hard times. The witch who could even defend her Housemates against unfairness. Millie picked up her boots and carried them to the stairs instead, tonight she was not that witch.
Her throat swallowed back the bile that crept up its length by the time Millie reached her dorm room, wondering if she would ever be that witch.
Discipline, she felt, that was exceedingly disproportionate.
She glanced over at a suddenly-humbled Autumn, who looked worse than Millie had found her this summer. Then to the still-indignant Minnie, and she had to look away for fear of laughing all over again in shock. The seventh year looked like a war veteran, her whole ensemble in disarray with a bloody face to match. It should have been punishment enough, Millie already felt humiliated by the whole ordeal and it wasn't even her clothes torn to pieces.
Part of her wanted to raise the point to Foxwood. Ravenclaw had been thoroughly disciplined now, Millie could argue. They didn't need so many points removed —from a balance of zero, for that matter!— nor did the whole school need to see her housemates playing out their mealtime detentions for their amusement. That was nearly cruel, and certainly not fair in the slightest!
The young witch kept quiet. Her eyes fell back down to the floor, catching a glimpse of her boots still standing upright, waiting for the witch to fill them again. The witch who would stand tall, who was charging into her new term with eyes on adventure, who had the willingness to persevere despite struggles and hard times. The witch who could even defend her Housemates against unfairness. Millie picked up her boots and carried them to the stairs instead, tonight she was not that witch.
Her throat swallowed back the bile that crept up its length by the time Millie reached her dorm room, wondering if she would ever be that witch.
![[Image: uHwnE8q.png]](https://i.imgur.com/uHwnE8q.png)