"Right then, let’s get Mister Potter on his feet, shall we?" Umbridge said, her voice dangerously soft. Harry had only a moment to prepare himself before there were fists at his collar dragging him upwards, "Where are his glasses? We can’t forget those," Harry hissed as their shattered remains were pushed roughly onto his face; Umbridge tutted, "We can’t have that, can we?" Harry flinched at the sudden appearance of a wand tip in his face, " Reparo!" he felt his glasses rearranging themselves on his face, a shattered lens cutting him just under his eye as it reshaped itself, "There we go, much better,"