Disclaimer: Obviously.
Dolores Umbridge paced up and down in the front of her fireplace. The amphibian resembling woman stopped and smiled sweetly at the porcelain plate hanging on her wall.
Her favorite kitten Twinkledood The Third - although she tried to feel the same amount of love towards all of them- was playing adorably with a pink ball of yarn.
For a moment she was overcame by the kittens cuteness and such a strong need to aww, that even knowing that a woman her age and prestige should act more mature didn't stop her, but then a loud crackle from the burning firewood distracted Umbridge from her staring.
With a start, the Defence Against Dark Arts teacher scrambled to return to her pacing, only to stop when she understood that there was no need for her to do that.
Yes, the Potter brat was acting like the attention and self loving brat that he was, and yes, the constant pranking had yet to stop, but pacing in front of her fireplace wouldn't change anything. Not to mention the fact that it only raised the dust.
With a frown, Umbridge muttered a cleaning spell and the dust vanished. Umbridge hated dust.
And pranks. And anything that wasn't clean and organized. And anything that made it seem like she was out of control. Because she was in control.
High Inquisitor slunk back at her seat behind the desk and started writing down another decree to send to her beloved Cornelious.
Although not many could've guessed, Umbridge was a bit of a neat freak. It was one of the things that connected her with Filch- that is, if you excluded an obsessive hate towards pranks and just as obsessive love towards cats.
Although Filch loves cats only when it concerns Mrs Norris, while Umbridge loved all the fuzzy and fluffy cats. Especially if they were small, white and blue eyed.
Umbridge put the dot at the end of a sentence with a flourish and read over her decree with a small smile on her face.
She was in middle of daydreaming about Cornelious praising her hard work when another crackle, this time louder and coming from above her head, made her jump.
The Defense Against Dark Arts teacher raised her head to see the source of the sound.
On her desk, stacked neatly and looking like they had been there forever, stood books, eight to be exact. A note was stuck on them.
Umbridge picked up the note and read it. Whatever she read made her small, watery eyes widen and she returned her attention to the books.
As their backs weren't facing her, Umbridge couldn't tell what kind of books they were. She wasn't about to believe the note- did they really think that they could fool her? She stood up and slowly moved to the other side of her desk, keeping her wand at ready.
Books were dangerous, that much she knew.
Umbridge slowly, slowly moved her wand and with a quick and precise movement of her hand and a muttered Wingardium Leviosa made the top book hover in the air. The book looked unassuming, but the High Inquisitor kept cautious. The Potter brat looked just as unassuming- and the trouble he brought...
The Defense Against Dark Arts (because the acronym just didn't bring the same feeling of respect for the position) teacher shook her head slightly and returned her attention to the book hovering above her desk.
Slowly, Umbridge made the book come closer- only a bit, so as to decipher the name but not close enough for the book to pose any danger without opening it- and wrinkled her nose in a cute (or so she thought) way as she noticed the thin layer of dust on the cover. Umbridge couldn't make it disappear- her wand was busy holding up the book- so she blew on it, gently. The title reveiled by her breath, made her eyes widen even further.
Then, in a flurry, she dropped the book on the desk and picked up the one that had been beneath it. Dust hadn't covered this book's covers, so she could see the title clearly. The woman (though some might doubt it) dropped this book on the one she had leviated first and repeated the process with all the other books. By the end of it Umbridge was heaving, but her eyes had gained a maniacal and determined gleam.
She threw all he books (magicaly, of course) in her fireplace and set them on fire with an Incendio, feeling satisfied as they burned thoroughly, even covers turning to ashes and disappearing.
With a sigh Umbridge sat back at her chair and went on with her decree.
She couldn't believe that the weasel twins (who else would sign the note with initials WWW?) had been so conceited to think that she would believe their note. Even if the books had contained truth about the Potter brat (which she doubted), she had no intention in reading them, not to mention to the whole school.
Minister- and me, of course- will prevail without the use of such suspicious books Umbridge thought and giggled quietly, returning to her decree.
AN about a year or two ago I noticed something strange- there were (I haven't seen that many lately) lots of characters read stories, and, somehow, Umbridge really had no qualms with agreeing to read that stuff in front of the whole school.
Without reading them herself first.
Not to mention, wizards know that books are dangerous, especially the ones working in MOM.
Second book, Ron, anyone?
So I wrote this. :D It has been a while since I wrote this, so sorry for possible mistakes. I tried to proof read, but...
Yeah. Constructive criticism welcome. Please, throw your reviews at me. ;D
(And I totally made it too long -.-)
