AN: I just... I don't even know. For some reason my brain thought this up, and I mostly typed it out so it wouldn't run around my head making mischief anymore. Drabbley oneshot, I suppose.
One evening, Dolores Umbridge was sitting in her house, knitting herself a new pink scarf. She was rocking back and forth in her favorite rocking chair, and on every third rock it would make a soft but still very annoying squeaking sound.
Once she finished her scarf, she tidied up after herself. While she was putting her yarn away in it's cupboard, she knocked over several potions, a few of which fell to the ground and shattered. She pulled out her wand and attempted to vanish the solution on the floor, but that particular mixture of potions must have been resistant to magic and stubbornly remained in existence.
Dolores put her wand back in it's holster. This meant she would have to clean up –she grimaced– the muggle way. She went to her cellar and summoned her meager bucket of cleaning supplies, as well as a mop that looked to be at least three decades old. She dumped the contents of the bucket on the floor before filling it with water and heating it with magic. She poured a good amount of white powder from a container labeled borax into the water and used a spell to dissolve it.
She heard a floorboard creak behind her and spun around. There was a man she'd never seen before, in her home, coming towards her. She whipped out her wand. "STUPEFY!" she shrieked. It had no effect on him. "Stupefy! Stupefy!" she shot off twice more. Still it did nothing. "What kind of creature ARE you?" Scared out of her wits, Umbridge picked up the mop bucket and chucked it at the stranger. The liquid splashed over the stranger and it collapsed to the floor, writhing in agony. "Incarcerous!" she shouted, putting almost triple the normal power into the spell.
She looked down at the thing that had invaded her home. "You truly are a disgusting creature. Perhaps you're a new sort of half-breed?"