A/N: SnarkyAndProudHufflepuff prompt.
Harry crosses paths with Umbridge in Diagon Alley sometime in the Next Gen.
Just a warning, though, this Dolores Umbridge is Starkid based and she doesn't appear until the very end. I'm not happy with how this turned out.
Harry Potter would often look back to his school years with happiness and dread. The good, the bad, it was all Hogwarts. A lot of the bad he could shoulder through. All it seemed except for a few. Sirius' death, Dobby's sacrifice, Cedric's unfair murder, even Dumbledore ... the list went on, filled with pain, death, and destruction. With Ginny's help, he came to terms that none of it was his fault, that he shouldn't carry the dead to the grave.
"Just let them go, Harry, let them rest," she had whispered.
Letting the dead rest was the first step. Ginny, with her silent strength, helped him after the war, after everything went suddenly still, after everything came crashing. When the silence came and the fighting stopped, it was like something had broken in the magical community. And even now, after all those years, their world was still in the process of healing.
Then came the family–a family he had always wanted–and, holding James for the first time, things began to look clearer. His world became lighter each time he held his children. First came James. Albus came second. Then Lilly.
Their family was suddenly complete.
Shaking his head to clear the unbidden, though not necessarily unwanted, memories of his children, Harry flicked his wrists and forced the Daily Prophet into an upright position. The flimsy newspaper had predictably fallen in half. He read with squinted eyes even behind his nearly iconic glasses. Ginny had joked it meant he was an old man now. James had quickly joined in. Harry, himself, had defended his age. Thirty-seven was not that old, thank you very much. And he had even said as much, which had only brought more teasing, this time from his sweet Lily.
He couldn't believe James was already in his third year and Albus, or Al as he was increasingly called, was just starting his first year. Only Lily, at age nine, was home, but even she was often gone having playdates with other magical children her age.
Harry sighed, his forehead furrowing the more he thought of them.
"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pecking his cheek, her worried eyes scanning the newspaper.
He shook his head and replied, laughter in his voice, "Nothing, I was just thinking."
She raised an eyebrow and pushed away from him. "Well, stop that. You're scary when you think. You made me think there was a disaster or something from the look you had." A smirk graced her cherry red lips. One look in her eyes, though, showed she had actually been worried. After the war, everyone was worried something even more terrible would replace it.
Something worse than Tom Riddle.
"What were you thinking?" Ginny asked, successfully forcing those less than favorable thoughts to the side.
"I was thinking of how lucky I am to have such a beautiful and talented wife." He grinned and grabbed her hand, the newspaper was forgotten.
"Charming." She laughed, unknowing pulling him further and further away from the memories of his school years, of when he was the Boy-Who-Lived and, later on, the Chosen One. With one laugh, her eyes lighting a flame, she chased the darkest times away.
Any other teasing between the couple was interrupted when three sets of bodies came into the kitchen. Lily, the youngest and smallest, was flushed with exertion, her red hair a mess of tangles. Her eyes, much like Ginny, was filled with a spark. This one, however, was due to excitement. One look at the boys told a very similar story.
It was time to go back to Hogwarts.
Harry stood in the crowd with Ginny and Lily, watching as the train, holding James and Albus, disappeared from view.
"They'll be alright," Ginny said with her free hand rubbing his shoulder. Lily peeked around them, eyeing the slowly dispersing crowd, until her eyes caught someone of interest. Harry glanced down at his daughter and saw her eyes go wide. He turned and ...
He felt a chill go up his spine.
An abnormally tall woman in pink was parting people like the red sea, her muscular legs, complete with pink strap-on shoes, bringing her closer, closer, closer – like a raging bull. Beside him Ginny had gone still, her face turning pale.
"Mr. Potter," the woman greeted with a simpering smile.
"Umbridge," Harry and Ginny said at the same time, their smiles overly tense and fake.
Dolores Umbridge reply was a high-pitched laugh. Her eyes wandered down to Lily. "And who's the littlest Potter?"
Before he could do anything, his daughter pushed herself through the wall her parents unconsciously made and grinned up at the tall woman. "My name's Lily. How did you get so big?"
Harry's mouth fell open and he spluttered.
Umbridge's smile dropped into a scowl. "Well, little girl, I did like my momma told me. I picked up everything and I," she suddenly fell into a crouch, her arms thrown over her head, "hoisted it over my head. I ate nothing but falcon eggs and rocks." She laughed before her face abruptly adopted a more serious expression. "You know, I was just as small, just as insignificant as you are now."
"I think that's enough, Umbridge," Harry said. Ginny pulled Lily closer to her, glaring as hard as she could at the unwanted witch.
Lily, with her smallness, managed to wiggle herself away from her mother. "You mean, even I can be as big as you?"
"Of course. My momma said every woman can be as tough as an Umbridge if she put her mind to it." Umbridge laughed again, the 'hurhurhur' echoing in the now empty train station. Harry had no idea how long they've been there, standing as the near-comical Umbridge corrupted his impressionable daughter.
If this had been their first meeting, he wouldn't have thought the pink freakishly strong spawn was a danger but he knew what she was capable of.
"Lily," Ginny called, "you want to go get that book you were telling me about?" They had finally gotten the girl's attention.
As they walked away, Lily chatting about some wizarding band, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted was a mini-Dolores.