A/N: Umbridge, you old witch, you hag lol. I hate this character so very much, but I had a lot of fun writing for her, and I have another chapter planned for her at some point later in the story. Are you all in for a treat! I won't spoil it for you, but oh my Merlin, you're going to LOVE this! Anyone who's ever wanted a screaming match with Umbridge is in for quite a surprise! The next chapter is a good one too but relish this chapter for what it is.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, Dolores Jane Umbridge coughed once to clear her throat of a tickle and reached up a hand and patted her thick curly brown hair and reached down a pink-manicured nail to straighten the crease in her hot-pink wool cardigan.
Many hated to think it, though one would not dare admit the truth to Dolores, that the Secretary was a rather unpleasant woman.
She was not overly old, but her body had aged passed her years so much that she wore the wizened features of an old hag, a crone.
Her forehead was wrinkled by many peaks and trenches—caused by years of consistent scowling—which unflatteringly crowned eyes that permanently harbored hatred and disdain for most things.
The ones who dared to call Umbridge callous were the bleeding hearts and the do-gooders of the wizarding community with little to no ambition, the ones that just did not 'cut it,' in Dolores's mind. In this world, the winner took all. The poor were not Umbridge's problem.
She knew she was different from when she was young. Her mother chastised her for not displaying the correct emotions.
Umbridge asked if it meant the end of her lesson when her friend broke her arm falling off a broom.
She wasn't concerned when her brother tripped on nothing and cracked his head on the sidewalk, she just asked if that meant they weren't going out for ice-cream anymore.
She was callous, the worries of others were of no concern to her unless she was directly impacted, which she wasn't.
She furrowed her dark brows into a scowl as she stared at the black-framed wall clock for at least the tenth time in the span of a single hour, scrutinizing the second hand, which seemed to linger an extra minute at every passing second.
Umbridge took her gaze off the clock, silently vowing not to look at once more until another five minutes had passed and pulled out the piece of parchment paper given to her by Percival Weasley early this morning.
The woman skimmed through the smudged out graphite stained words, which were hurriedly scribbled on top of the parchment slip that smelled faintly of aged chamomile tea laced with cinnamon and honey.
After scanning the same words repeatedly an infinite number of times, Umbridge reluctantly found herself glancing at the clock as the second hand continued to move in its persistent manner.
The contents of this letter simply could not be true: that Miss Nymphadora Tonks was claiming that Bartemius's own son had abducted her. Such slanderous, simple-minded lies were merely gossip and nothing more, a blatant attempt to discredit the Ministry and the Minister of Magic, and it was Umbridge's job to quell and quash these rumors however she saw fit, and this morning's appointment she fully intended to corroborate Miss Tonks's verbal statement to the contents of this very letter, for it simply could not be true.
It could not. The girl had been very clearly under the Imperius Curse, forced by whomever abducted the poor dear to tell the proper authorities that it was Crouch's son.
Slanderous lies, of which Umbridge, Fudge, and Crouch Sr. were not about to digest.
Bartemius Crouch Jr. was safely locked away in Azkaban Prison under the guard of the Dementors themselves, and for this young witch, never mind that she was the youngest and most intelligent to date in the entire Auror Office, to state such ridiculous slander, was utterly preposterous, and this, she could not allow.
Her concentration was immediately disrupted by the sudden sound of a door creaking open, and her inquisitive eyes shifted to the door to see none other than Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore exit Miss Nymphadora Tonks's private room, along with a much younger man in his early to mid-thirties with a thick head of light brown hair flecked with beginnings of gray throughout, but especially at his temples, and a scarred, lined face, though still quite handsome for his age, Umbridge thought.
Umbridge throughout her entire career at the Ministry had mastered her fake smile when dealing with what she deemed the 'undesirable' types, and Albus Dumbledore remained at the top of that list, right down to the wrinkles around her eyes that were capable of counting the flaps in a hummingbird's wing.
No one had ever questioned her except for one person, Albus himself.
That insufferable man saw in Umbridge's eyes, the windows to her soul, and held on to her true self, saw the woman for what she really was, as the façade crumbled into a real grimace, though Dolores did not bother to stop the tiny little squeak of a smile that escaped from her pink-painted lips.
"Ah. Albus," Dolores Umbridge greeted in a falsely honeyed voice just dripping with sympathy and sarcasm as she pulled herself off from resting against the wall, clipboard in hand, a quill resting underneath the metal clip for the express purpose of taking detailed notes during the young Auror's interview this morning. "I take it you got my owl bright and early informing you of my appointment with the young Auror, then? Ten-thirty, right on schedule…"
"I must have missed it, Dolores," Dumbledore replied airily, which immediately set Umbridge's blood aflame as hate surged through her bloodstream. "However, I arrived at St. Mungo's a solid two hours early to inform Miss Tonks's partner that she was awake and wished to speak with him, so no harm is done. Please. Allow me to introduce to you Professor Remus Lupin."
Remus blinked rapidly, glancing sideways at Dumbledore out of the corner of his eye, wondering why on earth the man was choosing to address him by the use of his former title.
He was no longer a Hogwarts Professor anymore, so why? And then it hit him. Remus could feel the heat creeping along his cheeks as he cursed himself for not being more attentive to detail, though, in his defense, he'd had more important things on his mind over the last few weeks.
This is the same woman who instituted the beginning of the Anti-Werewolf Legislation Act.
Lupin knew that it was looked upon more favorably for a man afflicted with his condition to be in a position of employment that offered a steady stream of income, and though this was but a lie to save face on his behalf, Remus could not help but to feel a painful little twang as his heartstrings lurched as memories of his time as Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor flitted through his mind.
He would go back in an instant if Dumbledore were to ever ask it of him.
Umbridge's gaze drifted towards the young man and found her eyes had locked onto the man's scars, and her frown deepened even more.
"I did not know, Albus, that you had taken to employing werewolves now, to do your dirty work for you, Headmaster," Umbridge snapped.
The stranger standing next to Professor Dumbledore was a handsome enough chap, she supposed. Underneath the damaged skin was the bone structure of a god and his eyes were the sort of brown eyes that brought hearth-sipped hot cocoa to her memory.
She pursed her thin lips into a rigid line and flitted her gaze back to Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore did not respond, and she felt her anger surge to new levels.
"I see. Well. In any case, I am here to question Miss Tonks regarding the unfortunate events of last night, sir," she began formally, stiffly, taking note of how the younger man's posture immediately stiffened and the man straightened his spine until he towered well over Umbridge, standing at around 6'3 or so.
The strange man's lethal stare felt quite piercing and painful as if his glare threatened to tear apart Dolores's black, putrid heart with just one look.
"Is this an interrogation, Madame Undersecretary?" Remus asked, unable to keep the note of anger from creeping into his tone as he pursed his lips into a thin, rigid line, scowling.
When Dolores did not immediately reply, the young man's face blanched and he turned towards Professor Dumbledore.
"Professor," Lupin began hesitantly. "It is my belief that Nymph—I—I mean, Miss Tonks," he corrected quickly, a light pink blush speckling along his cheeks, flushing them with color, "is not quite up to receiving…visitors just yet. Perhaps not for several more days. Nor is she in the right state of mind to revisit the events of last night. She is still healing, recovering from her wounds, and is not thinking clearly, Headmaster. She won't even let me tend to her," he added, almost as an afterthought, and the man's tone suddenly sounded offended.
Dolores rolled her eyes, though Remus made no indication that he noticed or even cared.
"Whatever happened to her was traumatizing and I don't think that subjecting her to this a day after she barely escaped with her life is a wise course of action, Professor. As her partner, I cannot allow this! Please," he begged, seeming to have eyes only for Albus Dumbledore, "do not put her through this. I don't think her body can cope with the stress, Headmaster."
There was no mistaking the dawning look of outrage and desperate pleading in the man's light brown eyes, nor the fact that his posture had stiffened in a suspicious manner.
Umbridge glanced up at the young Auror's partner, this filthy half-breed, this wolf, and did not immediately answer the young man as her insides curdled like milk with lemon.
This man standing in front of her entryway to Miss Tonks's doorway, effectively blocking her and barring her entry into the room was the acid in what was otherwise about to be a much-needed and heavenly experience.
She could not quite explain it, but she knew this dog revolted her. He stank and smelled of blood, and the haggard, poor appearance he gave off only reinforced her belief that all wolves should be hunted down and captured like the dogs that she knew his kind to be. Remus Lupin, Dolores knew, revolted her.
The sight of the werewolf standing in the doorway made her sick from the ends of her curly brown hair to the pink-painted nails on her toes snug inside her pink heels. Umbridge did not consider herself a woman who came to hate easily, but she knew pure evil when she saw it. She knew, and it was this man here.
The fact that Scrimgeour, the rumored next-in-line to take over for Cornelius, was able to sympathize with these half-breed vermin, these abominations that were a rapidly-growing plague upon wizard kind was abhorrent. Umbridge could feel her nostrils flare as her lips curled up in a sneer.
Nevertheless, she had her reputation to think of, so she forced herself to give off a little cough that escaped her lips that sounded more like a little squeak.
"I am afraid, dearie, that you are in no position to make demands of me. It's Ministry standard procedure to conduct an interview whenever something like this happens. It is merely a series of questions, Mr. Lupin. Nothing more and nothing less than that, my dear man," she sighed, huffing in frustration. "I am certain that you can understand, an incident report must be filed for our records, sir."
As if to emphasize her point, Dolores gave a curt rap of the clipboard she kept clutched close to her breast, the tip of her pink-manicured nails making a sharp tacking sound that caused the younger man to flinch and scowl in irritation.
"And it cannot wait a few more days when she is of more sound mind to answer your questions? She needs to rest." Remus Lupin vehemently protested this new and unexpected development, the look of anger growing worse in the man's normally kind, light brown eyes, and the man's lips parted open to speak and he took a half-step forward towards Umbridge, who could feel herself recoil in disgust as this half-breed dared to approach her, and her lips curl upwards into a sneer.
"I am afraid that it cannot, dear," Dolores retorted in her honey-sweet voice, careful to ensure that her voice remained as neutral as possible to avoid suspicion against herself.
Remus bristled, but made no comment.
Umbridge continued. "This woman holds vital information that our Ministry needs in its campaign against those who would seek to usurp the Ministry's power and watch it crumble. Whoever did that to the young woman in here must be captured. The longer my questions go unanswered by Miss Nymphadora Tonks, then the longer this criminal remains at large. That woman holds the key to uncovering the answer behind her atrocious attack, and there are a few things that must be made quite clear to me."
Dolores furrowed her dark brows into a frown as he stepped forward. She huffed in frustration and continued. "I will require no guard to sit with us, as I do not believe the young witch a threat at this current time, given the extensive scope of her…unfortunate injuries, therefore I doubt there will be much trouble."
Remus Lupin had his hand curled instinctively around his wand, and Dolores found her gaze drifted towards it, and she did not bother hiding her disgust.
The thought of this half-breed wolf touching her sent a shudder of revulsion down her spine, and the look of repulsion must have been evident on her features, for it was Professor Dumbledore who fixed the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic with an unusually firm, icy blue glower.
Lupin, who had, by this point during their one-sided conversation, had no idea how to properly respond at all to this woman's claims, only nodded mutely.
Though no fool was he.
He would be an idiot to place any real trust in Umbridge's honeyed words that were laced to the brim with cold animosity.
The Hogwarts Headmaster pinched the bridge of his slender but slightly crooked nose with his thumb and forefinger and heaved an exasperated sigh.
"I am afraid that Madame Umbridge is right, Remus, on all counts. It would be beneath us to interfere in a Ministry investigation," he sighed exasperatedly, sounding disgruntled. "You may ask of Miss Tonks your questions," Professor Dumbledore began courteously, though there was no mistaking the underlying hint of impatience that had seeped its way into Albus Dumbledore's soft, quiet tones. "But you will conduct yourself, Madame Umbridge, in a civilized decorum and you will treat Miss Tonks with respect, my dear woman. Remus, if you would kindly wait outside with me, we shall not interfere with your interview, Dolores, but we should be just outside the hall should any trouble arise during your appointment with Miss Tonks, though I expect it shan't," he added darkly, glancing towards Remus, who was looking thoroughly outraged and off-put at the idea of having to remain outside and at the thought of Dolores Jane Umbridge being allowed into Tonks's room alone.
Remus looked as though he was about to violently protest, though after being on the receiving end of an unusually stern look from Professor Dumbledore, he heaved a heavy sigh and reluctantly removed himself from the door's entryway, though not before casting a worried glance towards the young occupant of said room, though he had no chance to say anything before Dolores Jane Umbridge offered him a poisonous, honeyed, sweetly smile and promptly closed the door in Remus and Professor Dumbledore's faces.
He let out a low warning growl. His last thought as he joined the Hogwarts Headmaster in standing guard just outside of Nymphadora Tonks's door was that he hoped that by allowing this, that the two of them had not just made a grave mistake in leaving her alone.
Remus could feel his temper bristle at the thought of Umbridge being left alone with Tonks, who was admittedly, very much still in an emotionally vulnerable state of mind, and physically as well, and in his mind, in no condition to answer any questions right now. Not from him, not from Umbridge, anyone.
"She needs to rest, Headmaster." He emanated a tense, frustrated exhale, and cocked his head to the side, his ears straining for any sounds coming from beyond the closed door.
He could have sworn he heard Dumbledore chuckled at the gesture, though Remus dared not comment.
Lupin bit the inside wall of his cheek, thinking that, at the first noise, any indication of trouble, and he would barge right in there and demand that Umbridge leave at all costs and that she would not trouble Tonks any longer.
Though for the moment, he was powerless, and he could not help but feel the growing seed of resentment at not being allowed in to serve as her protector.
Remus ground his teeth in anger. If Umbridge hurt Tonks in any way, he didn't care what the repercussions of his actions were, there'd be seven shades of holy hell to pay, and he would never find it within himself to forgive her for it.
She would die cold, alone, unpardoned, and unforgiven.
Remus locked his jaw.
I hope this is not a mistake.
Tension met Dolores Jane Umbridge upon crossing the threshold that separated the hallway of the ward of St. Mungo's and into Miss Tonks's private and lavish room.
Dolores stood with her back resting against the dark oak wood of the now-closed door and looked in a daze towards the young woman sitting against a mountain of fluffed-up pillows against the bed's headboard and surveyed the room.
Auror Nymphadora Tonks blearily opened her eyes and gazed at the new arrival. Umbridge bit the inside wall of her cheek and gave the young Auror brief once-over, thinking that, if nothing else, the young woman's short pixie cut was neat and pristine, a deep rich chocolate brown color that was really quite lovely.
Dolores blinked, startled at first.
This was one thing she could never quite get over admittedly, the striking resemblance the young witch bore towards Alice Longbottom. They had the same facial structure and dark chocolate hair color.
The resemblance was uncanny, and Dolores gave a tinny cough to mask the worst of her shock.
She was Alice at that age…the same dark hair…fierce, smart, and yet noble.
It was definitely Alice and Dolores heard herself speak her name, but when she answered Umbridge, it was Nymphadora's voice that spoke.
But of course. Alice Longbottom—the real one—was but a floor above them in the ward for Permanent Spell Damage. And even if not, Alice would undoubtedly be somewhere else—her nose buried in a book or back at the office.
She would be anywhere else in a closed space but with Dolores Umbridge.
Quite a shame, for if Mrs. Longbottom had but listened to Dolores during her time as an Auror at the Ministry and played her cards right, the witch would have soared, and had countless opportunities for a successful career presented to her, but instead, she had chosen to wed Frank Longbottom and disregard Umbridge's warnings at the Auror would only bring her grief, and then….
What had happened to Alice Longbottom was a tragedy, a true crime.
The young witch, who was admittedly, even Dolores could not deny this, one of the brightest witches of her age and perhaps one of the smartest in the entire Auror Office, lay within this bleach tinctured private room that was a horrible assault on the senses and immediately gave cause for Umbridge to dip into the pocket of her pink cardigan for her handkerchief to hold to her nose.
A curtain hung limply, rustling faintly in the cold London breeze from the open barred window, which helped alleviate the sickening stench of disinfectant.
Umbridge could practically see Miss Tonks's uncertainty flare in her nostrils as she regarded the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister clad entirely in hot pink as the older witch spotted a chair next to the young Auror's bedside and thought that more efficient than remaining standing in her position by the door.
Dolores set her clipboard down on the wooden nightstand by the young witch's bedside and gave it a curt tap with her wand so that the quill and clipboard hovered in the air, just off to the left of her head and the quill began scribbling of its own accord, leaving her hands-free to ask Miss Tonks her queries.
Nymphadora Tonks's face remained an even sweeter sight, except for the sight of her arm in a sling, and her other hand not bound in the device was trembling uncontrollably.
A huge purple bruise was prominent on the girl's right cheek and there was a small cut just above her left brow and another on the corner of her lip, and the young woman's complexion was entirely too pale.
Yet, she was still as lovely as the sunrise, even now, and Dolores Umbridge could not help the antagonism that brooded onto her own features. Her nostrils flared and she gave another tinny cough.
"I trust your stay here in St. Mungo's has been comfortable. Miss Tonks," she began in a voice that was falsely sweet, dripping with honey and laced with mock concern. "I am here to collect from you your recollection of the events that you went through yesterday evening. I am here to question you. Do you understand, my dear?"
Umbridge chose her words carefully, insistent upon not using the word 'interrogation' for if the young witch knew that was what this was, then the girl would undoubtedly clam up, become frightened, and refuse to tell her anything.
The young witch nodded slowly, favoring silence as the only apt response.
"Can you state your name?" Umbridge asked crankily as she crossed one leg over the other and heard the mad scratching of the feather quill next to her.
"N—Nymphadora Tonks," she whispered, feeling a strange coldness envelope her, but no darkness came. She shivered and bit her tongue, feeling an old iciness on her tongue and that was when the sound of the quill Umbridge was using accidentally made a loud scratching noise that caused her to jump.
"Ignore the quill, dearie, just focus on me. Focus on my face and listen to my questions. I am not here to harm you, Miss Tonks, though not many Aurors, especially not one as young as you, have lived through something so traumatic and I am curious to learn how you did. You may begin whenever you feel ready."
Tonks nodded slowly, her brain working on overdrive to process all of the information in her hazy, groggy stupor.
There were a thousand questions burning on the tip of her tongue, just begging to be released.
Tonks wanted to ask where the rest of the Auror Office was when all of the murders of Crouch's victims had started catching the attention of the Ministry, and then, to a slightly lesser extent, the Muggle police force, why it had taken the Ministry months to pay attention to all of the unfortunate young woman between the ages of eighteen and thirty-three that were going missing, and the very man who had saved her life was now standing just outside the room, waiting for her.
She won't believe it's Crouch… She'll laugh at you. The old hag won't believe you.
For whatever reason, Severus Snape's snake-like hiss of a voice was taunting her, goading her into feeling compelled not to tell the truth to the Senior Undersecretary seated by her bedside, who huffed in frustration, clearly waiting for Tonks to answer her.
Tonks felt her lips part open slightly to speak and was not given a chance to start before Dolores Umbridge curtly held up a hand to interrupt Tonks.
"I am terribly sorry, Miss Tonks, to have to come at such a tiring hour. The trauma you went through must have been utterly exhausting," Dolores remarked indifferently.
In a moment of rare and genuine curiosity, her gaze drifted towards the cut on her cheekbone and above her left browbone.
"Oh, my," she remarked, falsely claiming concern at the ugly bruise that tarnished her cheek. "Doesn't it hurt you?" Umbridge asked. "That?" she prodded, reaching out a stubby finger, attempting to try to touch only the edges of the black and purple bruise when Nymphadora Tonks violently pulled her face away and yelped.
"It's all right. It's not as bad as it looks," the younger witch replied coldly, leaving Dolores's hand hanging and her looking the utter fool as she lowered it.
Umbridge furrowed her dark brows into a slight frown. "Do not fret, my dear child. You are still quite beautiful. For a Metamorphmagus," she added, almost as an afterthought, seeing the outrage evident on the young Auror's face. "Besides, you have to get used to it anyway, I'm sure, as you are not used to it."
Dolores stifled her urge to smile as she watched Nymphadora Tonks's brows come together in confusion and her lips part open slightly, and the young witch stared at Umbridge before looking away in a frustrated exhale.
"Beg pardon?" Tonks asked Umbridge, her voice shy and quiet, nervous. "Get used to what?"
Umbridge smiled, feeling her lips stretch wider than she thought was possible. "Why, being called beautiful, my dear. What else? Do you require anything before we get started, dear? A slice of pound cake, perhaps? Something to give you a little bit of a boost. Water? Tea, perhaps, with a nice dashing of sugar? You're looking rather pale and peaky, my dear."
Tonks shook her head vehemently. She would accept nothing from Umbridge.
For all she knew, the old crone had poisoned it or laced it with Veritaserum.
"N—no thank you," she panted, weakly clutching at her ribcage. "I—it's fine," she reassured, forcing a rather weak smile onto her face, though she could feel her cheeks' reluctance to be molded falsely as they fought it.
Tonks could not deny that something about this entire situation felt off. It felt wrong.
"Wh—where's Lupin? Or Professor Dumbledore? Shouldn't—shouldn't they be in here with me during this?" she pleaded, watching, and falling silent, waiting.
Out of all the times to fall under scrutiny during an investigation, why did she have to talk alone, and why had Umbridge chosen today to visit her here in St. Mungo's?
Would not this have better served her purposes until Tonks was back at the office and to work? Tonks did not understand Umbridge's motives.
Remus and Professor Dumbledore were just outside the door, she was sure, yes, she was sure, that she could hear their low murmurings, and she wished he was here.
Tonks hoped that Umbridge was just here to get her side of the story and file her report.
Not accuse, Ollie's voice piped up from the back of her conscience, and Tonks clenched her eyes shut and ground her teeth in anger at hearing his voice.
Umbridge's frown deepened when Tonks had opened her eyes again. No doubt the older witch had noticed her seemingly strange demeanor, though she did not comment on it.
Dolores Jane Umbridge, Tonks realized, like it or not, was just here to do her job, and her job right now was to question her and get her side of the story directly, since they very well couldn't question Crouch.
"I just wish to speak with you, for now, Miss Tonks. You are not in trouble." Dolores Umbridge forced a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes.
In fact, she looked to Tonks like she was rather upset about something.
"Your…partner and Professor Dumbledore are both right outside. I just need your version of what happened to you last night, everything to start out."
Tonks swallowed down hard past the growing lump forming in her throat as it hallowed and constricted and looked towards the glass of water resting on her night table. She was incredibly parched, her throat felt dry and scratchy. And a half-hour ago, she'd wanted nothing more than a simple drink.
But now, as she looked at the glass of water, it almost felt to Tonks like it was a trap.
Moody's paranoia is rubbing off on you, Ollie's voice chastised her. Tonks was able to recognize that she was in her own private room at St. Mungo's, and Umbridge, with Professor Dumbledore and Remus standing guard just outside her room (she hoped!), certainly weren't going to poison her or drug or anything of that nature.
But still…Tonks could not help but still to harbor a twinge of caution towards the Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic for this little action.
She was, after all, the very same woman who had instituted the beginning of the Anti-Werewolf Legislation Act, making it almost neigh impossible for people with Remus's condition to maintain steady employment in the wizarding world, and it was also no secret that she harbored ill will towards half-bloods.
Besides, after the grueling night she'd suffered if almost being attacked and raped, she did not think that Dolores Umbridge, or anyone else at the Ministry of Magic, would blame her for at least harboring a little bit of caution towards this line of questioning here.
Umbridge laced her stubby, rounded fingers together, and regarded the broken young woman in front of her. "You're shaking, dear thing. Is it warm enough for you in here? Do you have blood sugar dips, by any chance?"
"N—no," Tonks stammered, shivering, and clutching onto the blanket as she pulled it up to rest over her lap. "It's…it's just been a long night, Undersecretary. One that I wasn't entirely sure that I was going to survive."
"There's no need for you to be scared, Miss Tonks," Umbridge piped up reassuringly, offering the dark-haired young witch a soft smile and hoped that it, for appearance's sake, appeared genuine. "I am just here to get the truth from you, that's all. I promise you that you are not in any trouble with me, dearie. Those of us at the Ministry just want to hear what happened to you, Tonks."
Tonks let out a tiny sigh and repressed a tremor of revulsion that threatened escape down her spine.
She really didn't want to talk about it.
She winced as she recalled how her body had jarred with each one of Crouch's violent blows, how the pain seared through her skin and took away every single feeling of safety she'd ever had. Crouch put his all into each strike.
His unwanted kiss still burned as fire and tingled on her lips.
The visions of his face as they flitted through the front of her mind, refusing to part from her thoughts were the worst, cutting her insides and churning her stomach as if they were but shards of glass piercing her intestines.
Tonks chanced a glance towards the closed door, straining to hear their voices again. She knew without a shadow of a doubt, her new partner was standing on the other side of the door against the wall, probably.
And though she couldn't see Remus Lupin, she could sense his presence, and she thought that what would bring her the most amount of comfort, though Tonks could not even begin to explain it, was for Lupin to be standing right here, by her.
She knew her request was going to be denied, but that still did not stop her from asking.
"Can't Remus come in?" Tonks pleaded, sticking out her bottom lip in a slight pout and biting down hard. "If my partner doesn't speak and say anything, can't he just…sit here next to me? I—it would help…"
Umbridge was already shaking her head fervently, denying her request without even having to utter a single word. "My sincerest apologies for the discomfort, Miss Tonks, but no, your partner cannot come in," she began, scrunching her nose and glancing over at the clipboard still hovering in the air next to her head. "You may begin recanting of the events whenever you like."
A tremor of cold traveled down her spine and she shivered. Tonks bit down even harder on her lip that she could swore she felt it start to crack a little.
"The truth," Tonks whispered hoarsely. "About the Death Eater. Who he is…it's…it's Barty Crouch, Jr., Madame Undersecretary. He took me…tried to rape me..." She shuddered.
Tonks bit the inside wall of her cheek and when she lifted her gaze from her trembling hands resting uncomfortably in her lap, she could already tell that Dolores Umbridge thought that she was lying, by the fake smile on her face.
"That's quite impossible, my dear. Bartemius's only son is still locked away in Azkaban Prison, where he rightfully belongs. You know this, dearie. Perhaps whichever Death Eater abducted you was merely impersonating him with Polyjuice Potion."
Tonks furrowed her brows into a frown, though Ollie's voice once again spoke up at the back of her mind, quietly advising her. Her mind, just like Fudge's, is twisted and warped by fear and a blunt refusal to accept the truth, T.
"No," Tonks whispered desperately, still biting down on her lip and thinking that she would incredibly lucky to even have her bottom lip if she couldn't quit this nervous tic of hers. "It was Crouch, Madame Umbridge—"
"That is quite enough, Miss Tonks, wouldn't you say?" Dolores interjected, holding up a hand and effectively cutting off Tonks before she could further argue on the matter. "You merely…saw another man posing as Crouch's son, though what the man's motives were, I cannot say, my dear. To frighten you, I suspect." Her voice was cold and dismissive.
"I know what I saw, it was Crouch's son, and he has to be stopped. Now, before he comes after me again, Madame Undersecretary," Tonks protested, well aware of the desperation and pleading undertone that lurked in her tone. "I—I know what it sounds like. That I'm crazy, but I—I'm not!"
Tonks knew that even as she blinked back briny salty liquid from her lids that threatened escape, that her voice lacked the conviction to sell the point she really wanted to make, and her cracking voice erupted from her as though it would be the silencer to the dark, demonic voice that was doubt in her mind.
In a moment of rare frustration for the young Auror, Tonks let out a groan of agitation, she reached up to her one good hand, the pads of her fingertips sticky as they entangled themselves in her dark brown pixie cut, of which she had rapidly changed from its usual dark pink color to a more neutral color the moment Professor Dumbledore had announced that Dolores was here to see her.
Dolores had never once seen Tonks's hair a wild color like pink or purple whenever she was confined to administrative work at the Auror Office, and Tonks aimed to keep it that way.
Anything to stay on the hag's good side.
Her lungs burned as the biting air wafting in from the outside window thrashed in and out of her at a speed that she thought she could not control, and she was quite sure that slick tears would slip from her eyes at any given minute.
Dolores quirked a brow at Nymphadora Tonks and folded her thick arms across her chest. Her scrutinizing gaze drifted down towards her arms and at the bruise on her cheek and brow, and finally, her sharp gaze settled on her hands.
"You have dozens of cuts and bruises on your arm, Miss Tonks. How did you get them? What was the name of the Death Eater who attacked you, did he tell you his name, where he was hiding, what he wanted with you? I'm here to help you, but only if you cooperate and start answering me honestly, my dear sweet child."
Tonks felt the heat creep to her cheeks and she could no longer ignore the fiery, scratching sensation in her throat no longer and she shakily reached for the water glass, fumbling the glass as her wand hand trembled as she attempted to grasp onto, and only succeeded in splashing water over the table.
"I…" Her voice trailed off, and she knew by this point it was impossible to convince this maddingly frustrating woman that Barty Crouch Jr. had done this to her, that she, like all the others at the Ministry, probably, didn't buy it.
Tonks blinked back her tears and bit the inside wall of her cheek and exhaled a shaking, nervous breath.
"No. I…I was walking in the woods i—in the dark. I—I fell into a ravine when I attempted to Disapparate. Ran into branches, trees. I—I slipped. It was dark out. I couldn't see it. Rocks, trees, that's what did it…"
It hurt as hell to lie this way, even to Umbridge, but what was the point in telling this woman the truth if she had no refutable evidence with which to back her claim up. Tonks bit her tongue as Umbridge leaned forward slightly.
"Oh?" the older woman asked, narrowing her eyes until they were mere slits. As she leaned forward in her chair and reached out a short, stubby hand, the pads of her fingers grazed over Tonks's neck, to which she immediately shirked back from the woman's surprisingly tender touch and glowered at her.
"Don't," Tonks pleaded desperately, inhaling a sharp breath that pained her lungs. Before she could even fathom what she was doing, she reached up and slapped Umbridge's hand away. "I—I'm sorry," she apologized as soon as she saw the all-too-familiar flicker of anger pass through Umbridge's slit eyes.
Though Dolores gave a curt nod and settled back into her chair, the older woman's lips pursed into a thin line, forcing an obviously fake smile, though Tonks could read the Madame Undersecretary like an open book.
It was in her eyes. Tonks wished she'd kept her trance at the spot on the wall behind her pillow. Tonks knew that deliberation was over for her by now. Umbridge had judged her words, declared them as wind, and Tonks knew the Ministry employee did not believe her story that Crouch was free.
"It's quite all right, dear, Miss Tonks," Umbridge breathed, feeling her broad shoulders sag as she settled back against her chair's headrest. "You are not in any trouble."
Tonks's expression, however, told Dolores that the young Auror remained unconvinced of her words.
Umbridge huffed in frustration and pinched her temples. "Listen to me, dear. I need you to be completely honest with me. Whatever the man who kidnapped you said to you to make you scared, forget his words right now. I realize that you are the victim in this little scenario. There's no point in trying to pretend otherwise."
Dolores seemed to understand, raking her stubby fingers through her short curly dark hair a moment and fixing Tonks with a cold glare.
Tonks shivered, biting her tongue, wishing that Lupin were in here with her.
She could not quite explain it, but the man exuded a pure aura of warmth and kindness, as though, despite what had obviously been a hard life for him, now that Snape had let slip the nature of his condition, the man behaved as though he had been unaffected by the evils of this world. His heart was pure and golden.
The young Auror winced as Dolores Umbridge reached over and grabbed Tonks's injured hand, her wand hand currently suffering nerve damage, and squeezing her hand a little tighter than was supposed to have been reassuring.
Tonks clenched her eyes shut as a spasm of white-hot pain licked up her arm and traveled down her spine.
A burning animosity was developing in Umbridge's orbs, and Tonks knew that she was the root cause of the problem.
But still, if Umbridge would refuse to believe her, then what was the point of conversing about it any further?
Tonks stifled a cry of pain as Umbridge spoke.
"You can trust me, Miss Tonks. I'm on your side, dearie. It's my job to help those in the Ministry. So, you have to tell me what happened to you, and it has to be the truth," she growled, leaning over her chair and squinting her beady eyes at the markings that Severus's strong fingers had made around her throat. "Those are finger markings on your neck, Nymphadora, and that bruise under your eye was made by no tree branch, darling. It doesn't take an intellectual genius like Dumbledore to guess that whoever kidnapped you hit you with a Stinging Jinx or something equally nasty while you were cooped up, am I right?"
When Tonks did not answer Umbridge, she continued pressing the young woman.
"Protecting someone, a man who hurt you, is just going to make things that much worse for you, my child. Especially if you're called to testify in a trial in front of the full Wizengamot, it's going to look very bad, Miss Tonks. For your sake. Don't. If someone threatened you, then talk to me. Tell me who did this to you. There's no need for you to protect whoever did this."
At her words, Tonks felt her eyes go wide and round with shock. "But I did tell you who did it!" Tonks yelled, feeling her tears well up in her eyes and threatened to pour-over. "You' re—you're not listening to me! I don't understand what it is that you want from me!" she cried. "What is it?!"
The cruel Undersecretary smiled, and Tonks inwardly shivered in revolt.
"How…perceptive of you, dearie," Umbridge began smoothly, putting her fingertips together and clasping them together. "There are quite a few questions that surround you, Miss Tonks. Questions that I want to be answered."
"What makes you think I'll answer them?" Tonks asked defiantly, feeling panic rise within her.
This was not a good situation for her to be in right now, and she could swear she felt her blood pressure rising. Why was Dolores Umbridge cornering her in her own room in St. Mungo's less than twenty-four hours after almost brutally being raped and beaten to death and treating her like she was the suspect?!
She hadn't done anything wrong!
Surely, Umbridge could realize that, as one of the top Aurors at the Ministry of Magic, she hadn't done anything wrong?
"What do you want?" Tonks croaked out in a pleasing mewl.
"If you do not start answering my questions truthfully, Miss Tonks, then I will have no choice but to resort to other, less pleasant methods," Umbridge snarled, her phony grin sliding off her face quicker than Stinksap. "Talk. Now."
"And if I say no?" Tonks whispered, feeling the muscles in her face tense.
This woman was terrifying no matter what Umbridge did or said to her.
This was not a good position for her to be in right now, and more than ever before, as she felt the welling panic rise within her stomach, she wished that Lupin and Professor Dumbledore would come in and remove Umbridge.
Dolores Jane Umbridge's Cheshire cat-like grin grew even wider, and the young witch felt her blood as ice in her veins and she shuddered in fear.
"Because, child," Dolores began, a quite smug and evil expression crossing her pudgy features. "I can make the wolf suffer if you do not talk…" Here, she leaned forward, allowing her face to come within mere inches of Tonks's. "More than you could ever possibly imagine. Imagine having no access to Wolfsbane Potion at all for the rest of his miserable existence. The…horrible tragedy, that would befall one of his poor, unfortunate victims were he to accidentally bite someone, would result in his lifetime incarceration in Azkaban. The fact that you would align yourself with a disgusting half-breed werewolf is beyond me…"
Tonks immediately shrank back against her pillow as far as she could go and bared her teeth in anger. "Don't you dare touch him. You lay a hand against my partner, you'll regret it. Don't!" The threat escaped her before she could swallow it back. "Or I'll—"
Umbridge interrupted her threat by throwing back her head and giggling. "You'll what, dear? I'm sorry, who is the one here who has extensive damage to their wand hand, who is the one whose other arm remains in a splint, child? Your threats mean nothing to me, darling. That man outside, your Lupin, he has no true understanding of the ways of the world as it is. He is ignorant of his happenings around him, my dear," Umbridge replied languidly as she rose to stand, and Tonks felt a chill of fear as she watched the stout, toad-like woman's stubby, short fingers curl into a fist tightly over her long wand.
"And who is responsible for that, Madame Undersecretary?" Tonks spat back at Dolores, her glower, and her anger deepening as she swallowed back the worst of her temper. "You are the one that's done that to him! You were the one who signed the order to put the Anti-Werewolf Legislation into place! You are the one who has made it impossible for him and others like him to get decent jobs, and Wolfsbane Potion! None of them asked to be bitten! Lift the ban, lower the taxes and cost of Wolfsbane Potion, and there's a market for it!"
Tonks was panting heavily now, and winced as a painful spasm lurched its way through her heart.
"My dear young lady…" Umbridge clucked her tongue in mock disappointment, as though she had expected better of the bright young witch. "Do you honestly believe that our kind, normal wizards, would ever accept him as anything but? Our world is cruel and wicked, and his kind should be kept locked away in the cages like the dogs that I know those wolves to be!"
Tonks barely had any time to react as Dolores Umbridge gave a curt wave of her wand, and Tonks felt a horrible constricting and hallowing on her throat, a terrible pressure like she'd never felt before as a force squeezed, and she immediately felt her air circulation cut off.
"P—please…" she choked out in a pained breath. "S—Stop!"
"If you will not willingly tell me the name of your attacker," Umbridge growled, a muscle behind her right eyelid twitching, "I have other methods."
The Madame Undersecretary's words rendered Tonks's blood to ice in her veins, and brick by brick, her walls came tumbling down as she felt the salty liquid drip from her eyes and down her cheeks and the walls that hold her up, made her strong, just…collapsed. Moment by moment, her tears fell violently.
Tonks stifled a low moan as she heard a high-pitched squealing noise coming from above her, and she heard Umbridge's terrified scream as Tonks realized a fraction of a second too late that her little Bowtruckle, in a valiant effort to protect his owner, had let out a squeak of outrage and had promptly launched itself into Umbridge's hair.
Boy, what a scream that was that Umbridge let out. It made the hair stand straight up on the back of her neck. It was the loudest most piercing scream Tonks had ever heard.
It sounded like a scream of wild panic. A scream of hysteria and disbelief, bordering on terror, and Umbridge's face reddened and flushed as she wildly grasped for the little Bowtruckle taking refuge in her curly hair, her short, stubby fingers wildly trying to grasp onto the little green creature.
"Ngh...Don't...hurt...him..." Tonks pleaded, still struggling to breathe, wishing that if Umbridge wished to just kill her, that she would just do it already and end her suffering.
Apparently, she let out a choked, hoarse scream of surprise, but Tonks couldn't quite recall that part. Only the black swirling mists dancing in her vision.
An angry shout rent the air on the other side of the closed door that rendered Umbridge frozen to her spot, though she made no move to take her wand off of Tonks's throat.
If anything, her ironclad grip only tightened further and the tip of her wand pressed even deeper, and as such, whatever Choking Jinx Umbridge was using on her only intensified.
"Tonks?" came Remus's voice, quiet at first, but quickly escalated into a yell of surprise, sounding concerned upon hearing Umbridge scream again, and Tonks's ears perked up as she heard the soft sound of his voice that was…unexpectedly comforting—her partner's voice.
When she did not answer (she couldn't!) his voice grew even more concerned.
"What's going on? Are you hurt? This is—this is ridiculous, Albus, I—I need to get in there, Headmaster, this has gone on long enough, Tonks, Madam Undersecretary, open the damned door right now or I'll break it down," he snarled, his voice sounding fainter, and though Tonks could not be certain, it sounded as though Lupin were addressing Albus, and Remus's voice became fainter, and she heard the sound of the doorknob unlock as Lupin murmured, "Alohomora!"
Umbridge furrowed her brows into a frown, though still, she did not relinquish her grip upon her wand, nor did she lower it from Tonks's throat, not even when the door flung wide open and Remus barreled in through the doorway, almost tripping over himself in his haste to appear at his partner's side.
He straightened his posture, Dumbledore following close behind, and once the man's gaze lingered and landed upon Dolores Umbridge's wand pressed tightly against Tonks's throat, Remus's face drained of what little color there had been left in it, to begin with, and he strode towards her.
Tonks could not be certain, but she could have sworn she saw the shadow of the wolf cross his pale features, and the low growl and snarl that escaped from the man's chest as a low rumble sounded more wolfish than Tonks had ever heard.
It frightened her, to see Remus in this new light. He looked imposing and almost predatory as he bolted towards Dolores, his lips pulled back in a vicious snarl.
His wand clutched tightly in hand, closing off the gap of space between himself and Umbridge as Dolores quickly removed her wand from Tonks's throat, and standing upright at his full height of around 6'3, he towered over her.
Tonks coughed, one hand on the column of her throat, black spots swimming in front of her vision and she was only barely aware of Professor Dumbledore coming to stand by her side. She lifted her chin and blearily tried to focus her gaze a few feet in front of herself. Tonks could hear Remus shouting.
She breathed a shaking breath and a sigh of relief as she watched Ptelea leap out of Umbridge's hair and back towards Tonks, her shaking palm outstretched to retrieve the little Bowtruckle, and Tonks allowed the faintest ghost of a smile as the ornery little twig-like creature blew several raspberries Umbridge's way.
"She could have killed you," Tonks whispered hoarsely, still coughing and gasping for air, though forcing her attention to return to Umbridge and Lupin.
Umbridge was speaking to Lupin, and there was no mistaking the flicker of fear that darted through the short, stout witch's voice.
"One more move, monster, and I can promise you, that you will regret it, you filthy half-breed!"
Lupin, thank Merlin, did not seem at all fazed by the Madame Undersecretary's poorly veiled threats.
"HOW DARE YOU?! What is the meaning of this?!" Remus bellowed, curling his hand into a protective fist over his wand, pointing it directly at the stout woman's chest, glowering directly at Dolores. "Can't you see my partner has been through enough? She's lucky to be alive after the ordeal that Crouch put her through, and you want to traumatize her even more? How dare you lay a hand against her, and you dare question her without me present. You're questioning and treating her like she's a criminal," Lupin snarled, baring his teeth, and leaning so that the tip of his nose was practically touching Umbridge's. "Miss Tonks is a member of your own Auror Office, Umbridge, and to see you treat one of your own this way is despicable. How dare you?!" he snapped, and it did not escape Tonks's attention that Remus had abandoned any sense of proper edict around Dolores Umbridge.
Dumbledore, meanwhile, had chosen to occupy the very seat in which Dolores had just vacated, hands folded neatly in his lap and smoothing the creases in his robes.
Tonks could not prove it, though she was sure that the man was smiling by the way his beard twitching and his cobalt eyes twinkled mischievously.
He's enjoying this, Tonks thought wildly, biting her bottom lip in anguish. I don't believe this… He wants to see what Remus is going to do.
"Remus, please...don't." Her desperate plea escaped her as a whisper, and she could see the man's resolve falter as his head whiplashed sharply up to regard her.
Professor Dumbledore exchanged a concerned glance with Tonks and when he spoke to Remus, his authoritative voice seemed to echo and reverberate off the walls.
"Professor Lupin, you will kindly quell your rage and conduct yourself in a civilized, respectable manner, less you wish to upset your partner even further, Remus."
Lupin felt his blood ignite in his veins like wildfire, his nostrils flaring in anger. As Remus glanced towards Tonks, what he saw in her eyes broke his heart, several times over, as a matter of fact.
There was such paleness in her face, and fear and terror and apprehension lingered and flickered in her light gray eyes.
Dolores Umbridge took a faltering step backward and made to head towards the door, her own wand raised in defense, never once averting her gaze from Remus's hard, stony stare.
"With all due respect, you filthy dog, your partner, is covered in cuts and bruises. I know another wizard did this to her, but she refuses to tell me the truth and instead seems content to spout such slanderous nonsense that none other than Bartemius Crouch's own son was the very man that did this to her. And as a result of her current mental and physical state, I've no choice, Miss Tonks, but to place you on three months of paid administrative leave pending an official Ministry investigation into your ridiculous claims," she added, casting a falsely sympathetic gaze towards Nymphadora, who was looking on the brink of tears. She sighed.
"No, please," Tonks begged pitifully, swallowing back tears, a hand over her throat as she wildly coughed for air.
But Umbridge was not fazed by her plea. "You are not to take one step through the Ministry's doors until you pass a physical and mental evaluation, and even once you are permitted to return to work, I am afraid that I cannot allow you to return to fieldwork, and as such, you will work at your desk in the office for at least six months, until such a time when I see fit to deem you able to return to fieldwork. I will not entertain the notion of stupid lies currently circulating meant to discredit our Minister and the Ministry's efforts."
Dolores ignored Tonks's rapidly paling face and turned towards Lupin, who was looking outraged and as though he had several things he wanted to say to her, but she didn't give him a chance.
"The Ministry of Magic will get to the bottom of whoever attacked her, Mr. Lupin, and having other people present in the room during an interrogation leads to witnesses and the victims alike withholding vital information that will allow us to catch the individual responsible for this and put him behind bars in Azkaban for good. That is why I requested this appointment privately, and you need to leave."
Tonks, at Umbridge's words and her demands that she not be allowed to return to fieldwork as an Auror, the area in which she most excelled, burst into tears.
That one sudden shift in his partner's attitude was more than enough for Remus to act. Madame Undersecretary to the Minister or not, this woman was harming her. Hurting her.
And that, he could not allow it. Lupin felt a burning rage ignite within his veins so hard, that he did not properly have enough time to sort through the emotions he felt, and he snarled as the witch took another step forward, as though to head back towards Tonks.
"You will not touch her again!" Remus barked sharply.
When he swiveled his head sharply, all the while keeping his gaze trained fixedly on Umbridge's equally cold glower, as he spoke to her, his words were cold enough that Tonks let out a shudder.
"And I'm not leaving, Madame Undersecretary. Just look at her. She's in no condition to answer any questions right now, and not for the next several days or weeks. You will not talk to my partner like this, Madame," he growled.
Without even waiting for Dolores Umbridge to respond, he strode to the door and flung it wide open so hard that the door swung all the way back and slammed against the wall and pointed his wand squarely at the woman's broad chest.
"You cannot corner her and threaten Tonks and demand she tells you what happened. She claims that she already told you. I believe her, as does the Headmaster. I saw Crouch with my own eyes at the abduction site. It's up to you to regard her statement as fact, and since you do not want to, this interview is over. My partner's wounds are healing, and her condition is causing her a great deal of stress which the aggressive methods that you dare to call questioning will only exacerbate them. You've done more than enough," he snarled. "Now, get out, and don't make me say it a second time. I really hate saying it a second time," Lupin growled, keeping his wand trained on Umbridge.
Dolores, for her part, pursed her lips into a thin, rigid scowl, though her gaze did not waver from Remus's wand, which remained pointed at her chest.
"Get. Out," Remus snarled, baring his teeth and not bothering to stop the low threatening warning growl as it escaped from his chest.
He felt the edges of his lips curl upwards into a twisted smirk that more closely resembled a grimace as he briefly saw the flickers of fear and uncertainty dart through Umbridge's eyes.
"You—" Umbridge started to say, but Remus wasn't hearing any of it.
Remus raised his wand half-threateningly, intentionally slowing his movements, holding his free hand up to effectively cut Dolores off from whatever she was about to say next.
"Do not make me say it again. I won't ask a second time. Get. Out. Madame Undersecretary, you are positively high on Giggle Water if you think you're coming back into this room," Remus growled angrily, standing in the doorway once Umbridge had steadily been backed out of the room by Lupin. "Not a chance after what you just attempted to do to my partner. I don't think so, Umbridge. If you take one step into this room again or come anywhere near my partner again, Umbridge," he spat venomously, spitting her name with such a trace of bitterness as though a disgusting poison had settled and lingered on his tongue, and with no small amount of venom in his piercing, stony gaze. "I'm going to tell the St. Mungo's security staff that there's an insane woman in a pink dress and cardigan harassing and threatening to murder my partner and have you promptly removed from the premises."
Dolores felt her mouth drop open in shock. No one had ever spoken to her this way, ever. She bristled, and parted her lips to speak, though the wolf did not give her a chance.
Remus felt his blood boil in his veins, igniting hotter than any dragon could ever flame.
"This," he snarled, gesturing with one of his hands currently blocking the door, "is my room now. That out there," he snapped, gesturing towards the hallway which led out to the main visitor lobby and reception area of St. Mungo's, "Is your area. That area down the hall and to the left with the vending machine with the Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Botts's Beans? That's your area. This is my area," he growled, pointing back towards Tonks's room with a slightly shaking finger as he gestured and genuflected with his hands to differentiate the difference between the 'areas.'
The way the half-breed was behaving was quite possessive and territorial, and if the man were a dog, he'd have been growling and foaming at the mouth.
Still, even Umbridge knew it wouldn't do to cause a scene like this in the middle of the hallway of St. Mungo's and plastered a forced, fake smile upon her features and gave a shrill cough. She had her own reputation to think of.
"I understand how you feel, Mr. Lupin, but this is not up to you, sir…"
But Lupin ignored her threat and airily brushed away Umbridge's statement with a wave of his hand.
"This is my room, that hall down there that is your area. Stay in your area, stay out of my room, and Merlin's beard, back off or the next time you come within fifty feet of Miss Tonks, I swear to God I'll bite you myself, Madame Undersecretary, and I can personally guarantee you that it will hurt," he snarled viciously. "Get. Out."
Remus didn't bother to quell back the second wolfish growl that escaped his throat, and there was a savage part of the Mad Beast within that relished in the dawning look of horror growing on Dolores Jane Umbridge's wretched face.
Umbridge's face was pale as if hit by a blizzard, and as her lips parted open to fire back a retort, Lupin, upon hearing the tiny muffled sobs coming from his new partner as she coughed and gasped for air and Dumbledore's low murmuring tones attempting to soothe the distraught young Auror, furrowed his brows into a frown and he snarled, the edge of his lip curling downward, and he was pleased to see Dolores Umbridge take a step backward.
Lupin lowered his voice so that only Umbridge could hear him. "You think that just because you put the Anti-Werewolf Legislation Act into effect means you can control my kind, but you are wrong. As long as I remain a personal close friend of Albus Dumbledore's, I have complete immunity over your regulations for people like me, and whatever crimes I might commit against anyone if I find out that my partner has been mistreated in any way, that as long as Dumbledore is alive, you will not win. You will not control me. We'll never be controlled, Madame Undersecretary, and you have no power over me or any other wolves. For years, I've been dying to tell you what I think of you, Madame Undersecretary, and given what you just attempted to try to do to Tonks, there's no question in my mind that you deserve to hear what I have to say, but…well, my partner does not need to hear me speak such foul language while she recovers, so for her sake, I can't say it!"
Umbridge felt herself bristle and her chest puffed out in indignation. "The idea!" she squeaked. "Sir, you will find that the word 'fear' is not in my vocabulary."
Lupin snarled in response and did not bother to bite back his tongue and hold back his retort. A muscle in his jaw twitched.
"Perhaps not, Madame Undersecretary," Lupin remarked coldly, narrowing his eyes as he glowered at Dolores Umbridge. "But it's in your eyes. Now, if you will kindly excuse me, I need to go check on my partner that you emotionally traumatized and almost killed," he spat poisonously. "A very good day to you, Madame Secretary."
Without waiting for Dolores Umbridge to respond, Remus slammed the door in the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic's outraged, pale face.
If only he could have known that was perhaps one of the worst mistakes he would ever make in his life...
BOO TO THE YA! Take THAT, Umbridge, you witch, you old hag, you filthy pink-loving crone! This chapter felt sooooo satisfying to write, guys, you have no idea! It felt like I WAS Tonks in this one. Well, technically I WAS because a part of her personality is based on mine with a combination of the books. I know, I know, so many do, but I regret nothing!
Ooh, I still have excessive amounts of adrenaline coursing through my veins! TAKE THAT UMBRIDGE, YOU SHORT OLD TROLL, YOU HAG!
Unfortunately, this is NOT the last we see of that miserable old toad, and you'll just have to stay tuned to find out what becomes of our main characters and their encounter with the Madame Senior Undersecretary to the Minister :)