Dolores Umbridge regarded the young woman across from her with no scant amount of respect, despite the occasional difference of opinion.
As far as she knew, Enid Bagnold was a driven bureaucrat like any other, yet her career took her to field work for the Department of Mysteries rather than to more sophisticated spheres. In her Hogwarts days, the older witch remembered dreaming about the top position, though her Head of House, Horace Slughorn, had entirely different ideas about her abilities. It was no secret he had favorites.
"I am unsure of exactly what you mean."
"Well, I want to know why you want a letter of recommendation." Dolores clarified. "In the interest of an open, risk-free dialogue that I may engender in such a letter, it would be beneficial to know what position you are trying to achieve."
"As the head of the Improper Use of Magic Office, you would be the most qualified as my most recent employer before the Department. I believe you and I are on the same page where it counts, and I have always respected your great achievements." The younger witch took a noticeable breath. "It is my intention to apply for the position of Supreme Undersecretary to the Minister." The idea raised Dolores's eyebrows and pursed her lips at the same time.
"Truly?" she asked, gathering her thoughts a moment. "You are not aware of any other candidates for the position? Would there happen to be any with more experience than a girl, or rather, a young woman of nineteen?"
"I'm afraid not- I checked only this morning." As Dolores pondered her options, she took out her file on the younger witch before her. The daughter of the previous Minister, she would have remembered the bittersweet moment of the Dark Lord's demise. Taking in interest in politics during her time in Hogwarts, as a Hufflepuff, she was selected for a placement program after her O.W.L's which placed her in the Improper Use of Magic Office while completing her education. In the position, the head of the office remembered the girl taking a special interest in dark magic and its practitioners, though she remembered cautioning her about the impropriety of going after the old families with their secretive ways. Though she would never admit it, she was a half-blood herself, and as a result she placed very little credit in the veracity of blood purism. At the same time, their power was an attractive thing indeed and adding it to her own would be an essential step in the process of becoming Minister before retirement. In response, she remembered only that the girl briefly nodded before telling her that knocking on the door of Mulciber Manor was not on the agenda.
"I believe I have the required materials- one business day should be sufficient, providing for delays in the mail." Only recently she had divined a rather clever ruse to make the owl post system seem unreliable, and an essential component would be carping about delays at every opportunity- the complaints would spread, and sooner or later no one would notice if an owl arrived late, perhaps with a dazed look to it, if the birds had such an expression.
"Of course." Inspector Bagnold responded, nodding. It had been quite the period since she had returned from her duties, but there was the requisite debriefing as the sole Inspector to leave on her feet, followed by a lengthy legal process. It was no surprise her more questionable decisions garnered no meaningful consequence, though there was a nominal fee extracted from her account for 'damages'. I expect there are those who know more about what that entails than I. Well, they have their jobs and I have mine.
The young woman had already left when she looked up. Dolores had every intention of handing off the thankless task to an assistant, though she would of course sign it, having provided sufficient pointers to the dull young man. He never seemed to be able to approve the wand-destruction orders without looking over the file at length to evaluate the reason provided. He would never make it far without learning to follow orders, and even then he would still need to learn to skip tedious procedure. Ah, well, that's why I have him. Hufflepuffs- perfectly predictable.
"Thank you, Madam." he said as the letter hit his desk. At least his manner is in order. She entertained the notion of his saying 'Thank you, Madam Undersecretary' briefly before taking out a form of her own to fill out. For an even shorter amount of time, a sensation of guilt sneaked up on her, competing with her former employee even as she was writing a letter of recommendation, though she perished the thought, since the fact that she was recommended for the position would do Miss Bagnold more favors than she needed. No, the position of Supreme Undersecretary belonged to the most experienced of the department heads, and while Amelia Bones had some years on her, she was uninterested in the finer points of politics.
In all likelihood, the Inspector would regain her post, but as there was not another Hogwarts excursion for a few years, she would have other work. It was a view the two of them shared that going to the school but once every three years was hardly sufficient in rooting out undesirables, though for some reason young Enid continued to insist she was looking for dark wizards, despite the Inspections having turned up nothing of the sort in decades. While it was of some interest, the real purpose as far as Dolores was concerned was the intelligence on potential rebels. With the return of the Dark Lord, she had no doubt Cornelius would claim it was that Quirrell gone mad, but there would be those who would not believe it.
Keeping a lid on things would require a firm hand and a watchful eye.
There was an odd case of dark magic in Cokeworth, of all places, and she owled a warning, printing the time of sending about an hour before she actually sent it, giving the impression the owl was late. The Trace, as a ward that had been overlaid on all of Britain, had limitations in complexity- even with the most learned wardens, it was impossible to determine a precise location or even the wand that was used, but they had prior incantations to placate the fussier members of the DMLE. Of course, that was the wand and not the caster, but under her leadership the Office of Improper Use of Magic had successfully muddled the distinction. She remembered hanging her hat on the wizard's responsibility for his own wand and the general notion that it was hard to use another's, though really the end was to snap as many wands as possible.
And as always, the ends justified the means.
Though it was only the result of their inability to brew Polyjuice potion and use the Imperius curse, the muggles were putting wizards of Britain to shame in terms of law and order- something that her administration would correct. Muggle Britain was a safe place to live, and it was in no small part due to the inability of the citizenry to resist continued increases in government control. As far as she had put together, their metal wands were being quietly taken up one by one, rather like the goose being plucked slowly enough to keep it from squawking. It would hardly do to start with the older families, but only because they could rouse the rabble if need be and pride permitted. If the vast majority of wizards were lacking wands, all their warding and ancient magicks would count for naught. Of course, it would be impossible and inefficient to keep the population from using magic entirely, but there were other options to consider.
The blood purist Cantankerous Nott had explained that squibs were victims of a magical genetic disorder, and still possessed a modicum of magic, capable of the odd feat like expecting an old friend to come to the door. There were wizards incorrectly diagnosed as squibs, mostly those with the misfortune of a disability of sorts, and while uncommon it did happen from time to time. In recent years there was a gimmicky correspondence course called Kwikspell that promised to instruct the magically inept, though she imagined true squibs would have little use for it. In any case, it would likely serve as a safer alternative to Hogwarts, where magical knowledge was concentrated and students may even bring their own. In the event it nationalized the operation, the Ministry could effectively ensure that the Kwikspell program was only teaching only the basic spells required for performing jobs, though getting there from the current state of affairs would be a challenge.
She remembered Enid had impressed the adjudication on her N.E.W.T.s with a warding of her own invention that would notify her in the event dark magic was being used by a particular wand. By applying the general principle to spells progressively more viable in combat, her administration could begin to curb the ability to resist from one angle, while transforming the education system from another. It would be easy enough to manufacture consent for the wand warding, after all, who wanted to use dark magic? Death Eaters, that's who. Of course, she would be cold in the grave before taking a single wand from a known criminal, as criminals were of a distrustful, solitary nature and hardly posed a threat to the Ministry, but would more than sufficiently drive the average citizen closer to her administration for protection. The wands of common criminals and Death Eaters would go entirely unwarded and unregulated, even in an absurd alternate reality in which that were remotely possible. A man wanted for murder had little to lose by hiding a cache of stolen wands in a warded tree hollow.
Dolores decided she would really have to ask Miss Bagnold about the ward spell she was using.
Of course, without the Inspectors, the Ministry, or the Department of Mysteries at any rate, had lost its eyes and ears into Hogwarts, which was relatively unsupervised as places in Wizarding Britain went, and as a result was the most likely place to foment rebellion. With something to give the Prophet, she could convince them to spin last year's events as an example of the school's inability to resolve problems on its own, rather than the Inspection forcing the Headmaster to devote his energies, both mental and magical, in an effort at protecting the contents of his students' precious little skulls. He had spoken at length regarding the 'travesty' of extracting confessions by Legilimency, perhaps not realizing he could be employing it himself to inspect the Inspectors, though it seemed he held onto the outdated notion of privacy within the mind.
She waved it away. Spinning the story would be easy enough, it was primarily a matter of convincing the Prophet to assist in the endeavor. Essentially, the paper traded credibility for pushing a narrative- the more they pushed, the more they would have to work to string facts together, and the more readers they would lose. To sustainably lie for any period of time, the paper would need some miracle of credibility, and that was unforeseeable.
"Madam-"
"Yes?" she responded, breaking from her plotting.
"There is a letter for you." the young wizard explained unnecessarily as he left the article on her desk before returning to his own work. Tutting momentarily, she picked up the missive to check the sender before filing it, but she found there was no sender. It could be the DMLE at it again. Opening the letter, she found the parchment with a black ink that lacked the usual shine the ink from Ministry inkwells displayed. The handwriting was spectacularly neat, almost like calligraphy.
Madam Dolores Umbridge, Head of the Office of Improper Use of Magic,
It is with great pleasure I contact you for the first time, though circumstances do not permit that I see you in person. I am familiar with your policies and methods from the words of my old friends. Lucius Malfoy was especially helpful and I highly recommend you work with him closely, as I have come around to his value as an ally after deliberation. In good faith, I have not instructed him to monitor you.
On more unpleasant matters, I must deliver a warning of vital import- there are those in the Ministry who will not see matters as you do and regrettably they will act as I now predict. Rather than embrace my return, Minister Fudge will insist it has not taken place, which will delay my efforts considerably. As I am sure you are already aware, I have already regained full power and amassed nearly all of my former following, but without recognition I cannot expect to establish control over the Ministry, and as such I shall be unable to advance your position. For this reason, I ask you to immediately halt all efforts at tracking dark magic and recognize the Death Eaters as a legitimate organization. If you are unsuccessful in this endeavor, I am afraid Britain will be lost forever to the bureaucrats of the Ministry, and I shall be unable to forcibly remove the rootless half-bloods from government.
In perfect solidarity, Lord Voldemort
Dolores smirked as soon as she finished reading the letter. Though it seemed the old wizard was perfectly unaware she was actually a half-blood she seriously doubted he would use any power she helped him to gain to advance her. She did not fail to notice her fellow Slytherin's implication that he could be monitoring her activity, but it seemed he had no intention of doing so, and would be unlikely to start as long as she made one public effort to have the Death Eaters recognized. Of course, she would be doing all she could to keep that recognition from taking place. By his own admission anonymity would do the Dark Lord no favors, and he had made it perfectly clear that a decade of being dead had taught him little about subtlety, but she supposed her first clue should have been his one-man invasion of Hogwarts disguised as Quirinus Quirrell.
From what she remembered, the Death Eaters had taken an open approach, intimidating seats in the Wizengamot to gain a controlling interest almost immediately after being recognized. The boldness of their plan took the Ministry by surprise, ordinarily rebel groups waited until the iron was hot, but the Dark Lord made the iron hot in striking. Gaining the blood purists in short order, he moved on some of the related pure families, though only a paucity succumbed to his influence, with enough resisting that there was a task force created in the Aurors specifically to track down Death Eaters, spearheaded by Crouch.
Leaving her office, she headed to the elevator in the main atrium, making a quick trip down to the Department of Mysteries. If Enid Bagnold was out and about, they were done questioning her and the memory was compiled. As the head of the Improper Use of Magic Office, she had a valid claim to the information gained, as it might shed some light on dark magic being used at Hogwarts. It occurred to her that this was a privilege she would lose as Supreme Undersecretary upon being promoted to the position whenever the old crone in it left or died. That minor issue could be corrected by granting the office of Supreme Undersecretary full survey over the Improper Use of Magic Office, whoever ended up as head. It was something to consider.
The familiar dark corridors of the Department of Mysteries appeared before her with a ding of the elevator announcing she had reached Level Nine as she went to find the Primary Secretary, whose name escaped her.
"Hello. I-"
"Are you here for Inspector Bagnold's memories?" the man asked without looking up.
"Yes, I would be most grateful-"
"Hall of the Mind, down that way." he directed. "Say her name at the door." Dolores supposed it was in their interest to make it seem as if they knew everything. In all likelihood, Enid told them to expect her, or they gathered that from the debriefing. She made her way to a roughly circular room that branched off into twelve doors in a cool blue light from the torches. Muttering 'Enid Bagnold' before opening the door to the appropriate room, she imagined all sorts of security measures were in place for those trying to gain access to Ministry secrets without authorization.
The great room contained some desks around a rather large tank of green liquid, the purpose of which she could hardly guess, only that it would probably not allay the off-putting feeling she was getting from it. Books were strewn about on one of the unattended desks, and a cursory glance informed her that they mostly concerned Legilimency and Memory Charms. Reaching, at last, the Pensieve before taking a last glance at the other oddities, she was pleased to find the memories had been archived in an organized manner, myriad rows and columns of small glass phials to accommodate each one.
"Fifteen June of this year, 1992-" she read on the appropriate label, emptying the contents into the basin without delay.
The plunge into the past revealed a strange scene, Enid Bagnold staring blankly at her interrogator.
"Enid Bagnold- or should I call you Ebony?" Unspeakable Croaker started. "Details, I know, and properly details we shouldn't be considering, but what's the rush?"
The invitation to lighten the mood fell as steadily as the expression on the wizard's face.
"Perhaps then we should broach the matter of our greatest interest."
"Perhaps." the Inspector said, merely moving the conversation along.
"What we would like to know is very simple." Croaker started, putting both of his elbows on the table. "What were you able to discover about death?"
A smile almost broke on Enid's face.