right, so I should warn everyone about to read this that, even if it starts out innocently enough, it's M for a reason. It's not exactly graphic or anything, but just a heads up.
this also might be the most disturbing thing I've ever written. yes, more disturbing that Zacharias Smith turning into Hepzibah Smith.
but if it's your cup of tea, please read and enjoy. I tried to render Dolores as well as I could. I find her character fascinating.
leave a review if you have any thoughts:)
She was terrifying. Really terrifying.
Maybe no one else saw it, but she was ghastly.
She was a special kind of monster, a monster that smelt of peaches and marmalade. Draped in the sweetest colours, adorned with the brightest stones and jewellery around her short neck and pudgy wrists, ensconced in the thickest, roughest pair of blue stockings ever made, sporting a flowery yellow hat whenever she walked in the sun and a heavy, pink umbrella to shade her from the warmth, she was a nauseous and sinister vision to take in.
You could barely distinguish the green on her uniform or any uniform at all under the layers of frill and lace.
Most people found it odd that she had been sorted into Slytherin, except for him. And perhaps others like him, who saw the monster within.
To him, there was no mystery in the sorting. He could not imagine her anywhere else.
Dolores was a tiresome presence.
She liked to call herself Dolly and she would ask those who dared approach her to do the same, but she never emanated anything but coldness.
That is why, despite the spectacle of colour and grace that she embodied, she had few friends and even fewer enemies. The former found her over-stuffed ensemble rather silly and unnecessary, while the latter found it harmless and not worth taking offence with.
She was that girl who is bound to become a spinster, the kind of overly zealous and talentless girl that never attracts anyone, that punctuates every detail of her style and personality to an excess, hoping to appear original or independent, without being either.
Well, James thought, if that was all there was to her, she would be quite inoffensive. He had met such girls, had talked to such girls out of pity, had even befriended some, for a short period of time, be it for some vested interest or for the sake of social appearances.
But none like Dolores Umbridge.
He could not explain it. In fact, he did not even understand it. But whenever he was in her presence, he felt the monster edging out like a spectral shadow. And that shadow would follow him long after she was gone.
Even Severus Snape was preferable to her.
But if Snape could be avoided outside of school, Umbridge found ways to make an appearance during the summer as well.
The Potters and other pureblood families they were acquainted with would throw lavish parties to celebrate every single important event in their lives, mostly to chase away the listlessness of July and August and sweet, little Dolly Umbridge rarely missed one.
She was their charity case. Nobility was measured in blood, not in money or connections and despite her rather obscure relation to the Selwyns, she was welcome in the houses of some of the most tightly-knit pureblood families, because if someone had to tutor their offspring, it had better be a witch of pure breeding. They felt it was their duty to help her as she was one of their kind and Dolly received their generosity with tact and dignity, never once considering herself a servant in their homes.
They were delighted with her extravagant appearance and considered it the kind of eccentricity a pureblood would normally evince.
She was naturally shown off at parties as a delectable and poised young lady.
No one ever spoke much to her at these events and no young man ever asked her to dance, but she was always comfortably seated at some important table, eating cakes and drinking tea to her heart's content, entertaining some elder relative who was hard of hearing.
It was at these parties that James Potter avoided her the most.
It was an unspoken rule that Gryffindors and Slytherins wouldn't and shouldn't meet outside of school. The Houses did not communicate much during the summer.
But Dolores did not seem to mind that rule, nor did she seem to care that he was there.
He had spoken to Sirius Black about it and he had only laughed.
"So, you get to see more of Dullridge than you'd ever wish for in a lifetime. Lucky man, indeed! She must put on quite a show."
And Dolores did, in fact. She never dressed more exuberantly than when there was an occasion to be seen.
And she was never more terrifying.
James wondered at times if she knew what he thought of her. He had never made it a secret that he found her, if not repugnant, at least sickening.
Whenever they met outside of school, she acknowledged his presence with a nod and a large, toad-like smile that revealed the tip of her canine tooth.
Sometimes she waved cheerily in his direction or even called out a "good afternoon, Potter!" across the lawn if they were some feet apart, but they rarely, if ever, stopped to speak.
They never spoke in school either, despite sharing several classes, so there was no point discussing anything remotely personal anywhere else.
He remembered one particular party during which he had sat at a neighbouring table and she had asked him over the back of her chair if he had managed to find a certain Potions volume they had to read over the summer.
He had muttered an answer he could not remember and she had nodded vaguely, eyeing him up and down before returning to her present slice of strawberry shortcake.
That was another thing that nonplussed him. He had never seen her eat anything but sweets, be it at Hogwarts or at parties. She would only eat fruit (preferably caramelized), chocolate pudding, cake, cookies, candy, pastries or any variety of sweets, even simple sugar (he had seen her swallow copious amounts of it from a small bag whenever there was no dessert at lunch), anything that was not actual food.
He had spent many mornings trying to catch her eating anything else, but she adamantly adhered to her personal diet.
And yet, no one else had noticed.
Sometimes he wondered whether he wasn't seeing things. Maybe he was over-exaggerating her deformity. Maybe he wanted to see a bloated monster, when she was nothing but a mere eccentric.
Maybe he feared she was something else altogether, something he could not categorize, something that escaped the notion of terror.
But every time he saw her, she managed to redefine it for him.
Up until their seventh year he kept doubting his own disgust, even his own judgement. He thought that he could not understand her and therefore, could do nothing but hate her.
And this idea, that he was being unfair to an uncommonly unlikable young girl, remained with him until one fateful evening in August.
They met at a party again, this time at Potter residence. His parents were celebrating twenty years of marriage.
He had invited his then-girlfriend Lily Evans. A fellow Gryffindor and a much more opinionated version of himself, Lily did not look kindly on this society, nor was she thrilled to be surrounded by people who found her heritage questionable. But she had conceded to come because she was ridiculously fond of James and did not want to disappoint him, which he found extremely flattering.
He was very much in love and did not care for anything else, but the nagging feeling that the familiar monster was watching them from afar did not shrink.
Dolores Umbridge had noticed them sitting down together, exchanging secretive, caressing glances and she had immediately proceeded to go speak with them.
This was a rare occasion. James saw her approaching from afar, dangling a pearl-coloured scarf around her bare shoulders and a ruby brooch in the form of a hideous butterfly pinned to her heaving chest.
She stopped right in front of them and straightened the folds of her over-stuffed lavender dress which made her look like a giant light bulb.
"Lily, James! How charming to find you both here! I am very happy to see you together!" she began in the sweetest tone possible, lowering her eyes modestly.
"Well, yes, Umbridge, my parents are throwing this party, I ought to be here," James replied coldly, draping an arm across Lily's shoulders.
"Of course, silly me! I only meant I did not think I would be able to find any familiar faces in this crowd. But Lily you look exquisite. You must tell me your secret!" Dolores gushed gesturing towards Lily's sleek red dress.
"Um, thank you Dolores, it's nothing really...you look nice too," Lily replied awkwardly. She did not know how to respond to such compliments.
Dolores smiled, pleased.
"You are too kind, as usual. But you are the beauty tonight. I'm afraid Mrs. Potter will be jealous. Speaking of which, have either of you seen the happy couple? I would like to congratulate them properly!"
James wrinkled his nose in displeasure. He did not like hearing someone call his parents "the happy couple".
"They are probably receiving gifts in the parlour, you should find them there," he told her reluctantly.
"Oh, wonderful! Could you direct me towards the parlour, then?" she asked cheerily.
James was loath to part with Lily and he had no desire to follow Umbridge anywhere. He was quite sure she could find her own way inside and was only playing the innocent card.
"James, it's your party too, you have to be a good host," Lily told him softly, nudging him to get up.
"Don't worry, she'll be out of our hair soon," she added in a whisper, smiling that smile he could not resist.
As they walked across the lawn towards the terrace, James snuck a quick glance at Umbridge, wondering why she was being so jovial and talkative today of all days. She had never tried to engage him much before.
"Are you all right, Potter? You seem out of sorts," she asked, lacing her voice with concern. "Is it the party?"
"No. I'm only bored," he replied wanly. "You seem to be enjoying it."
"Oh, yes, extremely. More than usual actually. Everyone is new here. D'you know, I've never been inside your house. I should like to see it. I hear you have quite a collection of antiques."
"Uh, I'm afraid that room is locked. I'm not allowed to go in there, much less anyone else."
"Oh, that's too bad. I was really looking forward to that. But anything else will do just fine."
"I'm not here to give you the tour of the house, Umbridge," James suddenly said sharply, letting her pass before him as they arrived at the terrace.
Dolores seemed unfazed. "I was not asking for one. Seeing your parents again is good enough. Mrs. Potter is quite fond of me, do you know?"
James narrowed his eyes. "She is fond of everyone. She is excessively kind."
"That is a fair judgement," Dolores conceded, raising an eyebrow. "But I do believe she is considering writing a letter of recommendation for me."
James sighed tiredly. "If you want my parents' help after graduation just say so, Umbridge. Don't beat around the bush. You know they'll do it. Every family here will."
"Oh, that's very sweet of you to say," she chortled, although his tone had been anything but sweet.
"I am truly lucky to be so well-liked," she added, staring up and down with a predatory expression on her face. "It is unfortunate you do not seem to like me very much, isn't it? Oh, but I hope we'll remedy that."
James shrank inwardly.
Everything after that was a haze. He led her to the parlour and ran away quickly.
Much later that evening, he and Lily were sitting on a bench by the pond at the furthest end of the garden. They had managed to escape the noisy guests and could now share a moment alone together.
Her head was on his shoulder and the sun was setting, leaving a red mark across the water. It was nearly entrancing.
"Do you think we could stay here forever?" she asked wistfully.
"Careful, Evans, you're turning soft on me," he joked, kissing her hair fondly.
"Oh, shut up, you know you were thinking the same thing."
James was about to reply, but she suddenly leapt from his arms. Lily had spotted a white fluffy kitten hiding behind a shrub. It had lost itself from its mother and was now running amok.
"Look, James, look how sweet it is!" she cooed, trying to catch the kitty.
"Oh, I think I know how she escaped. Let me get the mother and the cubs. I'll bring them to you. Mum wants to give them away. If you want, I can give you one."
"That'll definitely piss off Petunia. She's allergic. But I'd love to see them."
James nodded and ran towards the shed to find the large tabby-cat and the little ones.
He was in high spirits. Lily was unusually affectionate this evening and he suspected it had to do with what would happen later that night. It was not exactly appropriate to be thinking of this while he was running to get her a litter of kittens, but he was boyishly excited, because by midnight, Lily and he would have the house to themselves.
His parents were set to leave on a second honey-moon around that time and after they left, most party-dwellers would become scarce, naturally.
He sighed happily. Their first night together. He had prepared everything, right down to the cheesy romantic songs and the scented candles.
He was hoping Lily wouldn't chicken out at the last minute. It had happened a month ago and he hadn't thought much of it, since it was normal to be nervous.
When he had asked her if she wanted to postpone, she had insisted that tonight would be fine, great actually.
James panted heavily as he leant against the door of the shed, wiping the sweat from his eyebrow. The exercise had done him wonders. He felt invigorated and renewed.
Before he could push the door open, however, he stopped because he heard strange noises coming from within and a voice he unfortunately recognized too well.
"There, there, my sweet one! That's right! Oooh, you are positively rumptious!"
James wrinkled his nose in disgust. Dolly had found his cats. How dreadful. She was probably force-feeding them chocolate cake from her pudgy little fingers, licking them as she went on.
He shuddered, feeling nauseous. That was something no one should see. He had to admit, though, he was a little curious.
He parted the door slowly, peering inside.
He was met with a most harrowing sight. The colour drained from his face. He would have let out a scream, but he was too shocked to do anything.
Dolores Umbridge was hovering over the white kittens, having placed five small pink and blue saucers on the floor before them.
When she grabbed one by its neck and sat it on one of the saucers and whirled her wand, muttering something under her breath, he saw with horror how the kitten started wailing softly, narrowing its eyes in pain, its body trembling, shrinking and shrinking until the fur vanished, as well as the paws and tail and only the skeleton remained.
Dolores smiled, nodding her head at the remains of the poor animal, as if that was part of her plan. She then picked up the saucer and looked inside.
Sure enough, she heard a sweet mewl coming from within and she giggled happily, a look of pure joy on her face.
James saw it too, from the doorway.
The kitten was now trapped inside the saucer, meowing for its dear life.
Sure enough, the next kitten followed and the next, until almost all the cubs were safely locked inside the saucers and only bones and whiskers were left behind as proof of their disfigurement.
And all throughout this blood-curdling display, James stood petrified at the door, too frightened, too nauseous, too disgusted to move.
Dolly, the monster, had finally come out to play.
He was downright terrified of her. He watched with increasing aversion, how she leapt up and down merrily, holding the saucers to her chest where they scraped the ugly red brooch.
Suddenly, halfway through her victorious sprints, she stopped dead, turned her head slowly towards the door, as if she wanted to give him time to leave, and stared at James with an expression of wicked delight.
"Oh! So sorry!" she said at length, revealing that toad-like smile. "I'm afraid I was a bit naughty. Has anyone noticed my absence? I'll get back to the party at once."
She scurried the saucers into the folds of her enormous dress and looked at the kitten and the tabby-cat she had not managed to jinx with regret.
When she was right in front of James, her expression turned serious and her dark, wet eyes wavered as if she was about to laugh or cry.
"You won't tell anyone, I hope," she said in a sugary voice.
"And why should I not?" he spat, finding his voice at last. His wand was half-raised and he was staring at her with a murderous intent gleaming in his eyes.
Her eyes darkened. "Oh, well, if you think you should, then go ahead and make a dash for it. But mind you, I might get upset."
James snorted, blinking rapidly, trying to stay firm. "Oh, you'll get upset, will you? And why would I care?"
Dolly chuckled, her nostrils flaring and her smile growing even wider, if possible. "Because, Potter, you're afraid of me. Very afraid."
James gaped at her in astonishment. He tried to laugh scornfully, but his throat was dry.
"And always will be," she added silkily.
"If you think - " he began heatedly.
But her large, stodgy hand suddenly landed on his chest and pushed him up against the wall with a force he did not know she possessed.
"Come on then," she told him, batting her eyelids invitingly, "prove me wrong. Curse me."
James watched her transfixed.
"You have the upperhand. Your wand is raised. Curse me if you dare."
She leered at him, her canine piercing her upper lip in that dreadful manner he had seen before. He faltered, although he did not drop his wand.
"Give it your best. Your hardest," she intoned, her fingers pressing down on him.
He paused.
"Oh? Do you want me to help you out a bit? I could remind you of a very useful jinx you could cast. I'm sure I wouldn't be able to walk for days," she murmured in an eerie tone, drawing closer to him, pressing her lavender dress between his legs, one of her knees colliding with his.
"W-What do you mean?" the otherwise brave and unshakeable James Potter asked, his wand nudging her in the ribs.
"I thought you'd be smarter than that. Though you'd figured it out by now. No?" she asked, licking the corner of her lip as if she had just caught a fly.
James remained silent, watching as the same plump hand travelled from his chest to his stomach, tickling him, and lower, lower still, until he had to gasp and squirm away.
"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed, as he tried moving away, panic etched across his face. Her hand wouldn't budge, however. "I really hope you'll be more excited for tonight. Otherwise Lily might be in for some disappointment."
"How - how would you - " he asked, pushing her away desperately. He had no idea how she knew about their plans, but he could believe that someone as abhorrent as she might find a way.
"Now hold still, James, darling, you had your chance to curse me. I wouldn't want to miss the spot and neither would you. It's quite important to perform well, you see, and I'd hate to do it wrong," she scolded him, as if talking to a petulant child.
Before he knew what was happening, she had already lowered herself on her knees, her dress flowing around them like cotton candy and he heard his zipper break loose.
Her swift hands found what she was looking for without any resistance and when her ghastly, pink mouth closed around his length, leaving a hot trail of saliva in its wake, his body jerked forward almost involuntarily and his wand clattered to the ground.
He had never felt a girl's mouth down there. His hands certainly, but no one else, not even Lily - his body betrayed him as he shuddered in pleasure, hanging onto the wall for support - no one else had ever done this to him. It was more arousing than anything he had ever attempted with Lily and it shocked him how much he was enjoying it, even though he could not have felt more hatred towards Dolores than at that precise moment.
Dolores Umbridge, among many other gruesome talents, such as entrapping living things into saucers, could give excellent, mind-blowing head.
One of his hands fell and glided over her hair. He grabbed a handful and pulled hard, biting his tongue hard in order not to moan.
He could feel Dolly's smile stretching on his foreskin and he shuddered again. She was encouraging him to pull even harder as she bobbed her head up and down.
All of a sudden she paused and gave a big slurp.
"Mmm, you're quite sweet..." her voice came out muffled and husky. "I like that."
James remembered how she would only eat sweets. He remembered how she would swallow large heaps of sugar from a little bag and he jerked forward again.
Trying to distract himself, his eyes trailed from her dishevelled hair to the tabby-cat and kitten, standing gravely some feet away, watching him accusatorily.
He shook his head, shutting his eyes, willing the memory to vanish, the guilt fading away with the waves of ecstasy rippling through him.
Dolly.
They exited the shed a couple of minutes later, James desperately trying to brush away all evidence of their misbehaviour as he tucked his shirt into his pants for the second time, wondering if anyone could see or smell her on him. As for Dolores, she was reapplying lipstick to her chapped lips, winking at him mischievously.
He turned away in shame.
"There! That should do it for the next couple of hours," she said, snapping her small mirror shut. "Unless, of course, there's reason for me to reapply it again."
At that she smirked unabashedly, making James feel even worse than before.
"You won't tell anyone, I hope," she repeated what she had said before, as if nothing had transpired since then.
James was repulsed already, as it was. He had no muscle in his body left to protest. He realized, growing sick, that she had done this to him on purpose so he wouldn't be able to rat her out.
He shook his head weakly, grimacing at the sight of her, all plump and sweaty.
"Good. Lily Evans won't find out either. No one will as long as you don't open that big mouth of yours. Mine, as you've noticed, is quite small..." she trailed off, alluding to their previous activities.
He closed his eyes, his body trembling from the memory.
"See? I told you we would remedy your dislike, Potter," she told him sweetly, grinning at him, her sparkling ruby brooch blinding him momentarily.
That evening, after his parents left for their honey-moon and their guests said goodbye, James told Lily he was not feeling well, he had caught a chill and he simply could not stand up anymore. He apologized, grimacing in pain.
Lily insisted on staying and taking care of him, thinking it was only nerves, but he would not hear of it.
She left, via floo powder, feeling quite concerned, but still relieved that they were not going to do it tonight, after all.
James watched her disappear in the flames with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
He knew that Dolores Umbridge had made sure, in one quick and dreadful evening, he would never be the same again.