Fandoms: Supernatural, Harry Potter
Characters: Dean Winchester, Delores Umbridge
Prompt: Death to the Pink
Prompt Made By: I. H. Scribe
Disclaimer: I don't own the following series(es) or any character(s) that follow, and unless I. H. Scribe is listed after Prompt Made By chances are I don't own the idea for this story either.
Accidental magic happened when a child wanted something to happen and their magic insures it does. Accidental magic begins to wane as the child in question goes to school and gets more control over their magic. For an adult to have accidental magic, they must be extremely desperate.
Delores Umbridge was extremely desperate.
That, that, little mudblood bitch had tricked her – HER! – into coming out into the forest where she was beset on by centaurs. Delores wasn't stupid, not by a longshot – she knew exactly what centaurs did to the beautiful women, such as herself, that they captured.
It wasn't going to happen to her. She was saving herself for her wedding night. Cornelius had been promising to leave that hag for her for years. It wouldn't be long now, but first she had to get away from these foul beasts!
Delores desperately wished to be somewhere safe, and in her desperation, her magic answered, whisking her away to the safest place possible – the room of one of the brothers that just stopped the apocalypse.
Or at least it would have been the safest place possible, had Delores remained calm and explained the situation clearly. Instead, she passed out in his car.
Delores Umbridge may have been extremely desperate, but she was also an extremely weak witch. Cross-Atlantic Apparition drained her meager reserves.
Albus Dumbledore arrived to rescue her, only scant seconds after Delores apparated away.
"Oh, well," Dumbldore said. Then he spied several centaurs smoking pipes, and walked over to them. "May I join you?"
"Sure dude. Have some," one of the centaurs giggled as he handed Dumbledore his pipe.
"Thank you," Dumbledore said, before inhaling. "Hmm. That's good stuff."
"Herbal remedy. Made special. Just for meeeee," another centaur said before passing out.
Dean Winchester had just lost his brother, Sam. Castiel was God-only-knows where, which wasn't much help as God wasn't around, and Bobby was already back home. Dean was a few miles away from Bobby's house, trying to fall asleep.
Thankfully, there was no one around to hear him shriek like a girl when a large, pink thing dropped on top of him as he was attempting to go to sleep in the back of the Impala. He managed to successfully extract himself from the backseat, just as the pink thing began moving.
Delores Umbridge got a blurry look at the one she landed on, before she passed out. Dean cursed, and began digging around for some rope in the trunk of the Impala. Finding some, he tied up the toad-like pink woman in the backseat, and set off to Bobby's house.
With three 'Idget.'s and an 'I need a drink.' Bobby and Dean managed to get the woman tied to a chair under a devil's trap.
Delores Umbridge woke up to find she had been tied to a chair. Two men were in front of her, apparently waiting for her to wake up.
"So, what are you? Demon, shapeshifter, werewolf, vampire?" the younger of the two began to list off.
"As if I could ever possibly be one of those filthy half-breeds! You will release me this instant! I am the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic!"
"Magic? So you're a witch then?" the older man asked.
"Of course I'm a witch you…dolt?" The last word was said quietly, as the younger man was now pointing a gun at her.
"I hate witches," he said.
Delores' last thought was, I'd of rather been with the centaurs! Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how much you liked the woman), she hadn't recovered enough magic to make another Cross-Atlantic Apparition.
"Albus, why aren't you looking for Delores?" McGonagall asked. Dumbledore had entered the forest hours ago.
"Oh, she already left," Dumbledore said. "So me and my friends decided to cool down with a pipe. It's very hot out here."
Minerva raised an eyebrow. Hot? It was nearing the middle of the night, and cold. She herself had her coat wrapped as tightly around her as it would go. "Albus, let me see that pipe." She took a sniff. "Albus Dumbledore! This is weed! What sort of example are you setting for the students!"
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I. H. Scribe