Book of Shadows
Chapter 29 – The early bird catches
The candle flickered in the dark of the hall as expensive leather shoes trod over priceless Persian carpets. Lucius Malfoy stifled a yawn as he approached what had once been 'his' den. Not anymore. Many things that had once been his no longer were. Some might say, even he no longer belonged to him.
He knocked twice, thrice, then twice again.
"Enter," a voice called.
"Master, I have completed my survey of the grounds."
"I see."
The dark lord continued reading his book, never bothering to look up. Unable to gage his mood at the best of times, Lucius was not sure if he should speak or wait.
"Ah, I remember this one. Are you familiar with this one Lucius? It can flay a man from head to toe in under a minute without killing him."
Wait. Definitely wait. "I don't believe I ever learned that one," he said.
"Of course, it doesn't kill them right away is what they mean. I can't imagine someone would live terribly long with their skin flayed off, can you?"
"I shouldn't suspect so, my lord."
The dark lord mumbled to himself a time as he turned the pages of his personal spell book, and just when Lucius was beginning to wonder if he'd done something to upset his master, "Did you find anything on your little walk?"
Finally! "It was regrettably uneventful."
"It would seem the reports of this 'opener of ways' may have some legitimacy. How interesting."
"Shall I have Draco inquire further into the matter?"
"I shouldn't waste my time," said the dark lord dismissively. "Your niece has proved a far better informant than your son, despite being the one responsible."
"Yes, my lord," the posh man choked out, much to the dark lord's secret delight.
The connection between the Malfoy's and Lovegood's was little known outside certain circles. Lucius, like so many of his followers, had skeletons in his closet that made him amazingly easy to control. This one just possessed an overabundance of funny bones.
"I suppose you should like to rest. It is getting early, isn't it?"
According to the large grandfather clock on the wall it was four in the morning, and he knew for a fact his wealthiest servant had not been to his bed, much to his wife's dismay no doubt.
"I am at your service my lord, at all times," he said.
The dark lord would have scoffed, were he the sort of dark lord who did such things. "Go lie down before you fall down."
Listening to the soft stomp of leather on carpet, the dark lord pondered on the clock. Time, it was both friend and foe; never enough of it yet people still found new ways every day to kill it. Four a.m., was it very late, or very early?
"Hmm, late I think. Very, very late."
… Hogwarts
It was late, very, very late. Five a.m. kind of late, but still they were up.
"You're sure this is it," Harry asked again.
The Spell eater nodded, "His magic grows stronger, he will be here soon."
"That's what you said an hour ago," Ron growled.
The froggy shadow shrugged, "All is relative. He will come soon."
It was hours after their battle with Harry's newest bookmark. Just over an hour since they'd left the hospital wing after having Neville's concussion tended. Just over an hour since they'd left Madam Pomphrey with a very vague summary of what they intended to do and the instruction to tell Dumbledore.
They hadn't seen anyone or anything since then, following the Spell eater to their current location where they had essentially camped out for the past hour, waiting.
"Hey Harry, what're we going to do when he does show up?" asked Neville.
"Same thing we did to this one," said Harry, jerking a thumb at the Spell eater who sat, frog like, staring into the empty hall.
"Do we know that will work?"
"No."
"Oh."
"One thing ya gotta learn about us Neville," said Ron. "We've done a lot of stuff like this over the years, and we never knew if it would work."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Oh… how are you still alive?"
"Bad luck," said Harry.
That's certainly how it felt some days. And it didn't look to be changing anytime soon.
"Well, well. What's all this then?"
"Oh bugger," Ron cursed under his breath.
"What's she doing here?" said Neville quietly.
"I'm more interested in that pack of jokers behind her."
Seeing Dolores Umbridge strutting down the hall, or as close to a strut as something so rotund as Umbridge could manage, was not such a surprise. Seeing her entire inquisitorial squad marching in lockstep behind her was, if only because it left him wondering how hard it must have been dragging some of them out of bed.
Malfoy was looking particularly mussed.
"So, breaking curfew. I shouldn't be surprised. I told Cornelius you were trouble. No respect, that's what it is. Thinks he's above the rules, above the law. And what would you expect, all those years people praising, padding his ego. Small wonder that Diggory boy was the first to get killed."
"Are you hearing this?" said Ron, as Umbridge continued to talk.
"Did she practice this?" wondered Neville.
"No," said Harry. "You don't need to practice the villainous monologue. It just comes."
And it wasn't the only thing that chose that moment to come.
"Should have stopped this years ago, I told him. He'll take over the whole ministry if you let him. He's got ambitions."
The trio of Gryffindors watched in horrified fascination, marveling at the obliviousness as it rose up, looming over the large group.
The Slytherins in the back were the first to notice it. It started with a cool draft, a chill running leisurely up the spine, then the inexplicable sense of being watched. They turned around, row after row, daring to scream, shout, call out in terror, yet dumbstruck silent before the towering horror.
"Now, I'll not have any more of your nonsense. You will come with me this very moment and—are you listening?"
"No," said Harry.
The squat woman in the pink cardigan turned an odd shade of puce he'd only before seen on Uncle Vernon, "You! How dare you, you—what are you looking at?"
Not caring to spare her any words he simply pointed. The vile woman turned around, color changing from puce to sheet white faster than was probably healthy.
Her mouth worked in pantomime, up and down and up and down, a silent parody, a terrible joke. Something inside her must have found the volume, because when the gangly giant let out a too loud breath, which sounded like a rattling moan, Dolores Umbridge found her voice and screamed.
It was a remarkable sound, remarkable because they never would have expected someone so 'stout' could hit that pitch. Her inquisitors quickly joined in, most falling short of her vocal prowess but making up for it with sheer numbers.
The noise appeared to irritate He who opens the ways. A single massive hand reached down and plucked Dolores Umbridge from the crowd. She struggled in a panic, but the giant's strength was beyond her ability to overcome, I mean, it's not like she was a witch or something.
The portal opener considered the thing in his hand, then before their awestruck faces, slammed it into the nearest wall. This set off a whole new round of screams as murder will do.
From where he stood Harry could see this was likely not the case however. The hand was too clean, and the wall lacked any of the gooey bits that should have been the remains of a robust woman like Dolores Umbridge.
He quickly surmised her fate was in fact much worse than mere death. Dolores Umbridge had gone the way of Bathsheba Babbling. The most hated teacher in Hogwarts had been sent to the Shadow realm.
That solved one problem but left a far more pressing one to be dealt with.
"Don't just stand there you idiots. RUN!"
The inquisitors found the Weasley's suggestion worth considering. Like a bad comedy sketch, the various Slytherins fell all over themselves and each other in their attempts to escape. Harry, Ron, and Neville watched, embarrassed for those involved.
The giant, unsure who to go after in the mess, waited patiently for it to stop. Large glowing eyes stared at those remaining.
"Harry?"
"Yeah Nev."
"Not sure how I'm feeling about that plan of yours."
Tugging at Harry's sleeve, the Spell eater seemed to share Neville's concern. "I would like to back in the book now please."