Chapter 20 – The Downfall of Delores Umbridge
"Apolline, I am leaving now," Jean-Sebastian announced to his wife as he leaned down to kiss her cheek.
Though perhaps it would have been expected for his wife to return his gesture of affection with one of her own, Apolline's expression never altered from the severe displeasure which had graced it since the day before. "Jean-Sebastian, you remember to tell that Headmaster that I will not tolerate that… that… cow to abuse any of our children any longer!"
Suppressing an amused chuckle, Jean-Sebastian leaned down and kissed her again. "Do not worry, my love. I believe that Dumbledore is right—Umbridge is stupid enough to hang herself. All we need to do is to allow her enough rope to do so."
Scowling, Apolline stood and put her hands on her hips. "I do not like this plan of Dumbledore's—Harry does not need to be used as bait after what his relatives put him through. At the first sign of trouble, you get him out from under that woman's thumb!"
"Yes dear," Jean-Sebastian dutifully repeated, before he bent down and kissed his youngest daughter who, though she did not perhaps understand exactly what was occurring, was at least aware that her idol was being threatened. Her expression of displeasure was almost the mirror image of her mother's, and Jean-Sebastian was forced to once again stifle a laugh at the sight.
Trying to spare himself another tongue-lashing, Jean-Sebastian quickly made his way from the sitting room, where his wife was checking the last of Gabrielle's schoolwork for the day, toward his study, and the Floo which would take him to Hogwarts.
To say that Apolline had been displeased the previous evening when he had returned to the manor with the story of what had happened with Harry was an understatement. And perhaps Umbridge and Fudge did not realize it, but in Apolline they had made an enemy of a witch who was as implacable in her resentments as she was strong-willed. Apolline would not stand for any foolishness, and having had to put up with the stigma of being labeled a "creature" or "Veela hussy" all her life, she was—unsurprisingly—remarkably intolerant of any kind of bigotry.
She had also come to be very protective of Harry in the brief time he had stayed with them before departing for Hogwarts—she was now as protective of him as she was of her own daughters. The fact that her temper had been simmering on a slow burn ever since reports of the hated woman's behavior had begun reaching them had not done anything to mitigate the explosion in the slightest.
Arriving at his study, Jean-Sebastian stepped in and, after taking a fortifying breath, stepped through the Floo and entered the Headmaster's office. The two men greeted each other and made small talk until the appointed time for Harry to arrive in Umbridge's classroom arrived. Dumbledore produced a small stone and waved his wand, and the two waited for several moments for Harry to arrive in the Defense classroom. All at once they heard a knocking through the stone, to which Umbridge called permission to enter. The conversation began between the two and Jean-Sebastian settled in to listen. The game was on.
The pride Jean-Sebastian felt at Harry's response to Umbridge's words, and the way he fearlessly provoked her, was the pride of a father for a son. Harry was truly an exceptional young man and Jean-Sebastian was happy to assume the role of surrogate father in his life.
"Lines?" Jean-Sebastian was puzzled at the woman's statement. Lines were truly an innocuous sort of punishment which was not overly threatening in the slightest.
"Wait, Jean-Sebastian—be patient," Dumbledore cautioned as the confrontation continued.
Jean-Sebastian glanced sidelong at the Headmaster, wondering if he knew something he was not sharing, but Dumbledore paid him no mind, focused as he was on the conversation coming through from the Defense classroom. When Harry made his comment about writing lines with his finger, Jean-Sebastian began to get a rather uneasy sensation in the pit of his stomach.
"Surely she cannot mean to…" He trailed off, listening in growing anger as he heard Harry yell at Umbridge. At that point it all became clear.
"Une plume de sang!" he snarled, glaring at Dumbledore. "A blood quill! Has she gone far enough for you now, Headmaster?"
A smile of self-satisfaction appeared on the Headmaster's face. "Indeed, I believe this will be enough to damn her completely, Ambassador. Shall we go and rescue your ward?"
Suspicion once again bloomed in Jean-Sebastian's mind, but he knew that now was not the time to have this conversation. He merely nodded his head shortly before following the Headmaster from his office.
A few short moments later they had arrived at the Defense classroom. Jean-Sebastian took the lead and without preamble, he wrenched the door to the classroom open, forcing it to crash against the wall as he strode toward Harry and the hated toad woman.
"Harry, you will stop writing immediately!" he spat as he glared at Umbridge.
Though startled, Umbridge regained her composure immediately. "Ambassador. Headmaster. What are you doing in my classroom?"
"Witnessing you as you make a very big mistake, Madam," Jean-Sebastian snarled.
"Whatever do you mean, Ambassador?" the woman simpered. "I am merely disciplining this miscreant for his actions and words in my classroom. I assure you, it has nothing to do with you, nor does it warrant your interference. You will both leave this room now, or you will lose your position, Headmaster, and you, Ambassador will be removed from your post."
Stalking up to Harry, Jean-Sebastian held out his hand, snapping the blood quill as soon as it was in his possession. Umbridge's nostrils flared and she jumped up from her desk, wand in hand.
"How dare you Ambassador!" she screamed. "That was my own personal property that you just destroyed. I will see you arrested for this!"
"Harry," the Headmaster spoke up. "Please leave the room and return to your common room. As Headmaster of Hogwarts, I hereby declare that your point deduction this evening is reversed, and all your detentions with Madam Umbridge are cancelled."
"Yes, Headmaster," Harry said standing and gathering his bag. Jean-Sebastian was darkly amused to see that Harry favored Umbridge with a smirk before he sauntered from the room, whistling a jaunty tune.
Umbridge's smirk was absolutely feral. "You have just made your final mistake, you old dotard. I will be speaking with the Minister at first light, and I assure you that your tenure here at Hogwarts will end soon after."
"Oh, I believe that you are quite mistaken, Madam," said Dumbledore. His expression was implacable, and none of his habitual grandfatherly mien was detectable. Here stood the man who had defeated Grindelwald, and led the forces of the light against Voldemort. Jean-Sebastian had to admit to himself that the Headmaster was more than a little intimidating at the moment.
"Forcing a student to write lines with a blood quill, Madam? It is a little severe, even for you. Is it not?"
"I may discipline the students in any manner that I feel necessary, Headmaster. I am the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, and you have no say in the matter."
"You stupid woman!" Jean-Sebastian growled. "I am not even a citizen of this country and I know that a blood quill is a class three restricted item. The mere possession of one by anyone other than the goblins or a solicitor merits a fine, let alone forcing a student to write lines with one."
"I have permission from the Minister himself," Umbridge said, waving them off.
"The Minister is irrelevant," Dumbledore snapped. "The law is the law and no one is above it. I believe you do not realize the severity of the situation, Madam. You have not only brought such an item into a school, but you have also forced a student to write lines with it. Do you not realize that almost every member of the Wizengamot has some relative attending this school? What do you think their reactions will be when they hear that you may be using it on members of their families?"
Once again Umbridge treated their remarks as though they were of no concern. "I am sure that the right families with students who obey the rules know that their children would never be subjected to such harsh penalties. Only the true troublemakers who are attempting to ruin this institution merit such punishment, for it is the only way to correct their misbehavior."
"You are insane if you believe that the Wizengamot will do anything but condemn you for this, regardless of what students are being punished."
"Regardless, it does not matter," insisted Umbridge. "I may punish those who break the rules in whatever manner I deem fit. You have no authority to stop me."
Dumbledore stood tall and proud and he stepped forward, causing Umbridge to shrink back in sudden fear. "I have all the authority I require, as Hogwarts herself considers me to be the Headmaster of this school. And this does not even mention my mandate as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot." His voice was icy and low and the woman's features became even paler than they already were. "The use of a blood quill is not punishment or discipline—it is torture. I will not allow it to continue. You will hand over whatever remaining blood quills you have in your possession immediately!"
"I certainly will not—"
"Yes you will!" Dumbledore barked. "By the authority of the Wizengamot, I demand that you hand those vile instruments over this instant! If you do not, I will take them from you, and by Merlin I will then see you to the gates of Azkaban myself. Do not try my patience further, Madam!"
Umbridge stumbled back once again, but this time she did not respond. She merely opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a box, handing it to Dumbledore with shaking hands. Dumbledore opened the box and peered inside. Jean-Sebastian looked into it himself, noting the fact that it contained well over two dozen of the quills. Dumbledore closed it once again, scowling at the woman.
"It appears that Harry was not your only target, was he?" he snapped.
Umbridge drew herself up as tall as she could with her diminutive frame. "The Minister will hear of this, Headmaster."
"I assure you that he will," Dumbledore said in response. "As will the Wizengamot, the Prophet, and anyone else that I can think of. I suggest you pack your bags, Madam, as your stay in this school will likely be of short duration."
The woman's sneer was back in all its glory. "You have no authority to remove me, Headmaster. I am here by the appointment of the Minister himself."
"We shall see how long that lasts, Madam."
Jean-Sebastian glanced at the Headmaster with some surprise—he had intended to have the woman removed that evening, and could not understand why Dumbledore would delay. She was clearly a danger to all the students, especially to the ones with whom Jean-Sebastian was most concerned.
A quelling look met his unspoken query, however, and Jean-Sebastian let the matter go for the time being—obviously Dumbledore had something else up his sleeve, and Jean-Sebastian stepped back and allowed him to dictate events. It was his school, after all. He would have an accounting, though, Jean-Sebastian thought grimly.
"Your right to assign detentions is hereby revoked," Dumbledore continued, "Do not even try to do so, as I will know and I will throw you from the school myself should you attempt it."
Umbridge's eyes narrowed and her mouth opened, but Dumbledore did not allow her to speak. "And also be aware that any points you assign or deduct will be reviewed as long as you are still at this school. I would suggest you avoid using the points system at all."
"And I will be instructing Fleur, Harry, and all of their friends that they are not to attend your class in the future," Jean-Sebastian snarled. "You will never teach any child for whom I am responsible again—that I assure you. And if you so much as look at them in the wrong manner, I will have the Aurors here to drag you off to a prison cell where you belong."
"I would like to see you try, Ambassador," Umbridge shrilled in response.
"Leave it, Delores," Dumbledore stated. "You may not realize it, though how you could not is beyond me, but you have already lost. I will have you removed from this school as soon as may be, and you will not be returning."
Turning his back on her, Dumbledore stalked from the room while Jean-Sebastian, with one final glare, turned to follow him.
"Please explain to me why she is not on leaving this school at this very moment, Headmaster," Jean-Sebastian demanded as they walked back toward the Headmaster's office.
"Of course, Jean-Sebastian, but please let us talk in my office."
Though perhaps he would have preferred to demand an answer immediately, Jean-Sebastian inclined his head. He did not stop fuming as they walked through the hallways of Hogwarts; the protective instinct which he had always held toward his children—though perhaps not as visibly displayed as the one his wife possessed—was fully aroused, demanding to be appeased.
In the office, the Headmaster immediately sat behind his desk and steepled his fingertips and Jean-Sebastian felt as though he was once again in school about to be scolded for some prank or misdeed. Scowling, and annoyed that the venerable man made him feel this way, Jean-Sebastian tried again.
"Headmaster, would you like to explain why that woman is not on her way to a Ministry holding cell?"
"Because, Jean-Sebastian, our position is much stronger if she is removed by Minister Fudge himself. And you and I will fan the flames of what is certain to be a scandal for the Minister, ensuring that he has no choice but to do so."
Jean-Sebastian frowned at the Headmaster. "So this has become a political game?"
"It has been a political game ever since the Minister decided to involve himself in the workings of this school, Ambassador. I must have full rein again to hire a Defense Professor who is qualified and, more importantly, one who is not controlled by the Minister. To do that, my position must be as strong as possible—hence my desire to force the Minister to sack Umbridge himself. It also carries the added benefit of removing her from her post as Senior Undersecretary."
"You have a candidate in mind?" Jean-Sebastian asked, his curiosity aroused by Dumbledore's cryptic statements.
"I do," Dumbledore confirmed. "However, my choice will not be available until the new year. I will have to come up with other arrangements until then, and having Fudge completely preoccupied with damage control will give me the space I will need to do so."
It did, Jean-Sebastian had to admit, make a great deal of sense. The more primitive part of him, however, wanted blood that instant. Umbridge was a blight upon society no matter how competent or intelligent she was—or was not, as the case may be—and her instant removal from the government, as well as Hogwarts, was a very desirable outcome. But his children were protected in that they would not be attending any more of her classes, her blood quills were confiscated, and her teeth were essentially pulled. And if the woman was stupid enough to try anything in the halls of Hogwarts against his children, it would make the task of incarcerating her in Azkaban all that much easier.
"I suppose you are correct, Headmaster," he grudgingly admitted. "But if she tries anything with my children, I can promise you I will not be held accountable for my actions."
"Leave the protection of the children to me—I assure you that I will not allow anything to happen to them. I need you to play your part as Harry's guardian and as the Ambassador to England, not be involved with vengeful attacks against the Undersecretary."
Jean-Sebastian nodded tightly before he moved to the other topic which had bothered him as they were listening to Harry and Umbridge. "I was wondering about something else—you did not seem to be surprised that the Undersecretary possessed blood quills. Would you care to elaborate on that?"
Smiling, Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "It is amazing what one can glean with a little passive Legilimency and an unguarded mind."
"You did know." Jean-Sebastian was implacable, and he was highly offended that Dumbledore had essentially used Harry as bait, regardless of the fact that Harry had insisted upon putting himself in the line of fire.
"Not that she had blood quills specifically," Dumbledore replied. "Her mind is remarkably open—she has no skill in Occlumency whatsoever. But even so, as you are well aware, passive Legilimency only gives an indication of surface thoughts, and active Legilimency is illegal, except under certain circumstances. I was able to discern that she wanted to make an example of Harry and try to cow him into holding his tongue about Voldemort. What exactly she meant to do I was not certain, but I did know it involved something I would not find acceptable. Unfortunately, the woman truly believes that she can get away with anything as long as she has the Minister's backing, so I could not be certain exactly how far she meant to go."
"And what about her presence at this school? She has been enacting decrees to curb the freedom of the students, from what I understand."
"All part of her plan to take over the school. You may not have heard, but the Minister made a decree yesterday making her the 'High Inquisitor' of Hogwarts, giving her all sorts of powers to review professors' performances, change curriculum, among other things. It was all part of their plan to eventually take over the school and force my removal."
"And now?" Jean-Sebastian asked, reflecting that if she had ever truly gotten control over the school, Harry and Fleur would have been pulled from the premises immediately.
"Now, I go back to the Wizengamot to inform them of her actions, while you go through your diplomatic channels to make an issue of her treatment of your ward. We shall also take the story to the Daily Prophet, the Quibbler, and every other public forum that we can manage. By the weekend the furor over this scandal will be so intense that Fudge will have no choice but to sack her."
"And perhaps take Fudge down in the process."
Dumbledore stroked his beard for a moment before he shook his head. "Although a desirable outcome, I suspect the Minister will be able to wriggle his way out of this. He is far too politically savvy to allow himself to be snared in this scandal. At the very least, however, it will tarnish his image and weaken his position."
Grimacing, Jean-Sebastian rose and shook the Headmaster's hand. "Unfortunately, I suspect you are correct." He stepped toward the Floo, before he stopped and looked back at Dumbledore. "I shall not wait until the morning to move on this."
"Excellent. She has finally given us a reason to remove her, Jean-Sebastian—let us make the most of it."
Nodding, Jean-Sebastian entered the Floo, not at all anticipating another tongue-lashing which he was certain he would receive from Apolline.
In the Gryffindor common room, Harry was enjoying the full attention of his housemates as he told the story of the detention he had just served and the manner in which the Headmaster arrived to put Umbridge in her place. The audience to which he was speaking would normally have made him somewhat annoyed or uneasy as he truly was not enamored of his fame. On this occasion, however, he was enjoying the attention immensely, not only for the opportunity it brought him to expose the fool woman for the idiot she was, but also because every student had had to suffer through her classes the same as he had, and deserved to savor her defeat. Revenge was sweet indeed.
Fleur, however, was not impressed with the news of the punishment the woman had tried to mete out. "That woman made you use une plume de sang?" she shrieked as Harry neared the point where he had begun to write with the quill.
At Harry's blank look, Fleur sighed with some exasperation and explained. "A plume de sang… A blood quill is a quill which magically writes using your blood instead of ink. The magic causes it to literally carve the written strokes into your hand—it can be quite painful if done many times in a row. Solicitors use them to sign legal documents, as do the goblins."
Showing her the pink outline on his hand, Harry remarked, "Like this?"
An outraged cry escaped Fleur's throat as she grasped his hand and inspected it. "How many times did she make you write these lines?" she all but growled.
"I must have written them about twenty times or so," Harry said after thinking a moment.
"That… that… stupid…" Incensed, Fleur broke into a long diatribe in French, and if Harry was to guess, it sounded like her language was not fit for polite society. After a few moments she had calmed down enough to revert back to English. "How dare she think she can get away with this!"
"It's all right, Fleur," soothed Harry. "I'm already away from her."
Fleur favored him with a glare, but Harry could tell that she was not angry with him. It was George who spoke up to explain.
"Harry, I don't think you completely understand Fleur's outrage."
"Prolonged use of a blood quill over a short period of time can result in weakness and fatigue," Fred continued. "It is sapping your blood, after all."
Harry gazed back at them with some surprise. "They are that dangerous?"
"They can be," Fleur affirmed. "They tap a certain amount of your blood when you use them, and if you use it enough, the blood loss can affect you. Add to that the fact that if you wrote the same line often enough you would eventually cut it into your skin. Without a healer or Essence of Dittany handy, you would have a scar for the rest of your life."
"That I already knew," said Harry with a snort while rubbing his hand. "I could already see the beginnings of the outline forming when your father walked in."
"I guess he wasn't happy," said Fleur somewhat slyly.
"Ripped her a new one," said Harry with a certain measure of smugness.
Fleur, however, was confused. "Ripped her a new what?"
Muffled laughter and snorts were heard all around the room. Fleur glared at those who could not keep their countenances, while Harry hastened to explain.
"It means that he…"
"Berated her," Hermione supplied helpfully.
"What she said," Harry declared, pointing a thumb at Hermione.
"Good," said Fleur. "I think we'll be rid of the stupid woman in no time. Even your Minister will not be able to ignore this for long."
"I'd imagine that's what Dumbledore and your dad are talking about right now."
At that moment, the portrait hole opened and Professor McGonagall walked into the Gryffindor common room. She stood surveying the suddenly quiet room, until her eyes lit upon Harry. She shook her head, presumably at the obvious fact that he was sharing exactly what had happened with Umbridge that evening with everyone. She approached Harry and after greeting the members of her house, made her intentions known without preamble.
"I understand your detention with Professor Umbridge tonight resulted in some rather… unorthodox punishment."
Harry agreed and she continued. "When I heard, I thought I would come and survey the damage myself. May I?"
Wordlessly, Harry raised his hand to show the professor the marks left by Umbridge's quills, prompting a tsking sound from the Transfiguration Professor.
"The stupid woman," McGonagall grumbled. "I cannot imagine how she could possibly have thought that she'd have gotten away with this outrage."
"I think that rational thought isn't exactly her forte, Professor," said Harry dryly.
A brief smile met his declaration, before McGonagall was all business once again.
"Your guardian has declared that you shall not attend another of Umbridge's classes," she told them. "However, I believe we should make this incident a pointed reminder to Madam Umbridge," no one missed her refusal to refer to the woman as a professor, "that the assault of one of our Gryffindors shall not be tolerated. I believe, therefore, that we should show our support by ensuring that none of you attend her classes."
The approbation was unanimous, as cheers and whistles echoed throughout Gryffindor tower. The house of the lion all seemed to understand that a good push may have the hated professor removed from the school, and considering that attending her classes was a colossal waste of time, missing them was no sacrifice.
"Very well then. We shall see the Madam's face tomorrow when no one from Gryffindor house's fourth year attends her class in the morning."
"I think we can come up with a special surprise for her too," said one of the twins with an evil smirk.
"A rousing send off will be just the thing for morale," agreed his partner in crime, his expression mirroring his twin's.
McGonagall regarded the two pranksters with some amusement, before her expression turned stern. "Officially, I cannot sanction such behavior. Unofficially, I never heard you discussing your plans. Don't get caught."
With that, she turned and exited the tower, leaving a common room full of surprised students. McGonagall had always projected the image of a straitlaced and strict taskmistress—she must truly despise Umbridge, a sentiment which was well understood by her house members. Soon the expressions of surprise turned to smirks. Life at Hogwarts was about to become very uncomfortable for one Delores Jane Umbridge.
Dumbledore and Jean-Sebastian were indeed as good as their word when it came to exposing Delores Umbridge's deeds at Hogwarts. Immediately after his meeting with the Ambassador concluded, Dumbledore Flooed the offices of the Daily Prophet and demanded to see the publishing editor of the paper. The man's displeasure from being pulled from an evening of relaxation at his home quickly gave way to astonishment and glee at the story which had fallen out of the sky into his lap. The fact that Umbridge herself was almost universally hated due to her strong-arm tactics and tendency to throw the Minister's name around in order to get her way only served to sweeten the revenge to be exacted.
Springing into action, the editor quickly had several staff reporters summoned with an eye toward breaking the initial story in the early edition of the next morning's paper. As was its wont, the headlines were sensational and provoked the desired reaction, proclaiming "Hogwarts Professor Disciplines with Blood Quill!" and "Boy-Who-Lived Forced to Write Lines in Own Blood!"
The very next day there were several more Daily Prophet reporters were seen poking around Hogsmeade, and though there was no one at the village who had any knowledge of the incident, the residents were not unwilling to speak of other matters, such as the behavior of Harry and his friends during Hogsmeade weekends, not to mention the few times the Defense Professor herself had appeared in the village. Of particular note was the brief incident at the Three Broomsticks between Harry and Malfoy, provided without hesitation by Madam Rosmerta. Needless to say, the perception of Harry and his temperament was only improved, while Malfoy was portrayed to be a bigoted bully. And if, during the course of that day, Harry and his friends had coincidentally been found walking near the edge of Hogwarts grounds and had been induced to make a brief statement—ironically during the time that afternoon when he and his fifth-year friends should have been in Umbridge's Defense class—the matter was completely beyond the knowledge of his professors. As long as the reporters were not violating Hogwarts' grounds, Harry was a citizen as well as a student, and his ability to speak for himself was not in question.
Upon the article's first appearance in the wizarding paper the following morning, Dumbledore again went into action. Using his powers as Chief Warlock, he quickly called an emergency session of the Wizengamot, with the intent of discussing Umbridge's actions at Hogwarts. His estimation of the members' reactions was not far from the mark, as many Wizengamot members did indeed have younger family members attending Hogwarts, and Umbridge's hasty statement that she would never use a blood quill on members of the "right families" was received in a remarkably dim light by almost all who were not extreme bigots.
It was the work of mere moments to have the members of the wizarding body support and pass a motion condemning her actions. In particular, Madam Bones and Madam Longbottom, both of whom had young wards attending Hogwarts in Harry's year, and both possessed of strong, no-nonsense personalities, became Dumbledore's staunchest allies in his effort to push Umbridge from her positions. It was easy to pass a further motion, demanding Umbridge's immediate termination, not only as Hogwarts High Inquisitor and Professor, but also from her position as Undersecretary. They argued that if her judgment was this questionable in a school full of children, then she had no business whatsoever working in a position which allowed her to influence government policy. The box of blood quills sitting on Dumbledore's desk in the Wizengamot chambers was a visible reminder of just what depths the woman was willing to descend to achieve her goals.
At the school, the delivery of the morning paper sent the Great Hall into a chaotic riot of hushed conversations and astonished reaction. The reaction was largely in Harry's favor, as no student wished to have to put up with the woman's form of punishment. A certain blond ponce was not amused at seeing his name besmirched in print. Though he did, unsurprisingly, use the opportunity to heckle Harry, even then, his success was questionable at best, as Harry merely favored him with a smirk and an amused thumbs-up, before he ignored the ponce completely. Harry did oblige the masses and showed his hand—though the pink marks were now fading—to anyone who wished to see it. He considered some of the reactions over the top, especially those of many girls who had openly tittered about him over the years, now used the opportunity to fawn over him, even in the presence of his betrothed. Overall, however, Harry was generally pleased with the positive attention he was receiving for a change. It was certainly better than when he had been accused of being the heir of Slytherin, or a glory-seeking cheater who had used illicit means to be named a tournament champion.
As for Umbridge, she did not take this setback to her plans well at all. She showed up for breakfast the next morning completely unconcerned with the events of the previous evening. She had thought to enjoy a leisurely breakfast, after which she would Floo the Minister and tell him of Dumbledore's latest misstep, certain he would see to the return of her blood quills, and perhaps even use the Headmaster's actions as an excuse to remove him from the school.
The morning had not turned out as she had expected, however, as the arrival of the paper brought her pleasant mood to an ignoble end. The sight of those offensive headlines enraged her, and the reactions of the students—she was the recipient of the disapproving glares of almost the entire hall within minutes—pushed her to the brink of apoplexy.
She was the Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic! How dare they attack her in this matter! Could they not see that she was merely trying to control a troublemaker and put an end to his lies and fear-mongering? She would see to it that they paid a harsh penalty for daring to oppose her!
Unfortunately, it did not work out the way she had intended, as her arrival to the Minister's office was met by the man himself, and he was clearly in no mood to be understanding.
"You stupid witch!" Fudge roared. "How could you have been caught with such instruments in a school? And by Dumbledore himself? I am simply amazed that you were stupid enough to allow yourself to be caught red-handed using such an item on his favorite protégé."
The fact that she had used the blood quill did not bother the Minister in the slightest—in other circumstances, it would have been a very effective tool in cowing the little troublemaker and enforcing discipline. However, the situation with Potter and their utter defeat during the lad's trial had called for a much more delicate approach. Clearly he had been a fool to think that this woman was capable of acting with anything approaching subtlety.
"But Minister—"
Fudge, however, was in no mood to hear the woman's incessant whining and complaining. "I sent you to the school to enforce control and marginalize the Headmaster and the Boy-Who-Lived. Instead you have managed to bring the condemnation of our entire society down upon us, and you have strengthened the images of those we were trying to bring down. What were you thinking?"
By now Fudge could easily recognize Umbridge's clenched hands and the wild fury in her eyes. She had never taken well to being contradicted and this matter in which Potter and the Headmaster had clearly gotten the best of her was obviously straining her patience.
"You told me to use whatever means at my disposal to gain control of the situation, Minister," Umbridge shrilled.
"I did not tell you to torture a young boy who after everything else is considered a hero!" Fudge rejoined. "This situation required a soft touch and a deft hand, and yet instead, you used your typical dragon in an apothecary approach and mucked it up completely!
"You may not realize it, Madam, but Dumbledore has called an emergency session of the Wizengamot which is to start in ten minutes. I presume I do not need to inform you of the agenda for that meeting."
Umbridge's eyes widened comically, before an expression of disbelief settled over her features. "He wouldn't dare."
"Of course he would," snapped Fudge. "The man has been eating political rivals for breakfast since long before you were out of your nappies. You didn't really think he wouldn't jump all over this, did you?"
"In that case, it is well that I am here," Umbridge said with a sniff of disdain. "I shall defend myself against his charges in person."
"You shall do no such thing!" Fudge bellowed. "You have messed this situation up enough already."
"But Minister—"
"Enough! Given the mood in this building right now, I can't rule out the possibility of you not leaving that room unscathed. You will return to Hogwarts immediately, you will teach your classes, and you will not say one word out of line to any student. In the meantime, I will attempt to mitigate the damage you have caused."
It appeared to Fudge that Umbridge meant to protest his decision. She glared at him with a harsh eye for several moments before she abruptly turned and entered the Floo, screeching her destination in her high-pitched voice, though none of the cultivated sweetness was evident.
Fudge settled in behind his desk and dropped his head into his hands. In truth, he did not see any way out of the predicament the woman had incited. It was apparent that the Wizengamot would demand Umbridge's immediate termination, and with the Prophet, the Hogwarts Board of Governors, and the outrage of society which he knew would be swift, it would take a miracle for him to be able to keep her at the school.
In truth, the Minister attended the Wizengamot session with little inclination to defend his Undersecretary. Fudge was, at heart, a political animal, albeit a corrupt one. He could see the writing on the wall, and it was the work of a moment to determine that there was relatively little he could do protect his employee. His calls for an investigation into the matter were ignored—Madam Bones emphasized the fact that the Chief Warlock himself had discovered the woman's actions red-handed—and his appeals for calm went unheeded. He left the session thoroughly beaten and plotting to ensure he kept his own position. The sacrifice of Umbridge was regrettable as she had been useful as an attack dog, but personally he would not regret the loss of the woman in the slightest.
Back at Hogwarts, the expected explosion of fury was provoked and exceeded when the fourth-year Gryffindors did not show up for their morning Defense class along with the Slytherins who did—grudgingly—attend. Perhaps it was not surprising when the woman stormed into the Transfiguration classroom moments after the period had begun.
"Professor McGonagall!" she squealed as she stormed into the room. "Why have your fourth years not shown up for class this morning?"
The look with which McGonagall pierced the Defense Professor was akin to one which would be directed at a particularly annoying insect. "Can you not guess?" she responded with distaste.
The answer clearly took Umbridge aback, and her mouth flapped uselessly for several moments. "I certainly cannot!" Umbridge yelled after a few moments. "It is time for class. You will have your house in my classroom in five minutes, or I will see them all expelled!"
"You really expect me to put my house members in danger again after your actions yesterday? Truly, Delores, I knew you could be a little blind, but I did not know you could descend to this level of idiocy."
The redness of Umbridge's face caused the students to worry that she was about to burst a blood vessel and keel over dead from rage. Not that her loss would have been mourned—on the contrary, a dead body in a classroom would have provided weeks of gossip, and the fact that it was Umbridge would likely have had the student body cheering rather than mourning.
"I will see you lose your position for this, Professor!" Umbridge hissed. "I am the High Inquisitor for this institution, and I will be respected!"
"Respect is earned, Delores, not demanded," was McGonagall's implacable response. "I believe your actions yesterday have made respect impossible and your position as High Inquisitor nonexistent. Now leave my classroom so that I may resume my instruction."
Umbridge stormed from the room and immediately complained to the Headmaster, who by this time had returned from the Wizengamot chambers. She was to receive no satisfaction from him either, however, as Dumbledore merely sat through her rant with an impassive expression on his face, not speaking until her fury had run its course.
"I believe, Delores," he said at length, "that your lack of Gryffindor students is your own doing. I suspect that many parents have already instructed their children to boycott your class, and can only assume that Gryffindor house is only declaring their united support for one of their own."
"I'll see them all expelled!"
Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair with a hard expression on his face. "If you believe for one moment that your petulant demands will be met with anything other than contempt, you are sadly mistaken, Madam. As I stated previously, the situation is your own doing, and I suggest that you dismiss any thoughts of using this ridiculous 'High Inquisitor' position you and the Minister have cooked up, to get your own way. I will not allow it.
"And furthermore, I believe Gryffindor has the right of it in this matter," he continued over her protestations. "I am hereby cancelling all Defense classes until your situation has been resolved. I will make a further announcement at lunch today—you do not have any more classes before then, do you?"
Umbridge was so shocked that she was unable to respond. Dumbledore would have felt pity for her were she not such a detestable woman.
"Go back to your office, Delores—I shall ensure that any students remaining in your classroom are dismissed."
In fact, the students were already gone from the Defense classroom by the time Umbridge had returned. In their place, the classroom had been turned into a swamp, containing insects, foliage, and brackish water, with one or two crocodiles to complete the image. Umbridge, in a state of utter fury, completely neglected to note that her classroom had been turned into a scene directly out of the Florida Everglades, and fell face first into the muck, having to be rescued by Professor Snape who had been in the area removing his students from her classroom. Luckily for Umbridge, the crocodiles—though they were completely real—had been charmed to remove their aggression, though she did have a nasty shock when she came face to snout with one.
"You really must take better care to keep your classroom clear of obstructions like this, Delores," Snape drawled as he pulled her from the swamp.
This was all the assistance he gave her, however, as he left her immediately after. Her robes were soiled and dripping on the floor of the corridor, while her hair was a muddy, plastered mess, sticking to her face as she gazed about in shock and confusion. In all, she resembled a mud wrestler more than a professor who had always been impeccably groomed. Regardless of the effort she expended she could not remove the swamp from her classroom, and after a number of increasingly desperate attempts, she marched imperiously to her quarters, though the squelching of the mud in her shoes ruined her image of superiority, drawing the snickers of everyone who was fortunate enough to witness her difficulty.
Matters did not improve for the Defense Professor at lunch, as moments after she had sat down to her meal, her immaculate pink robes, which had once again been restored to their dubious glory, disappeared and became an alternating black and white striped jumpsuit, which again resisted all of her attempts to dispel. And if that was not enough, her hair soon unraveled from its elaborate coif, changed to a dull gray, and fell down about her cheeks in limp, droopy clumps, while stubble appeared on her cheeks and chin. Soon the entire Great Hall was laughing of the picture she presented of a long-incarcerated cell block inmate. And if the Weasley twins laughed harder than the other students and shot each other thumbs up, no one took any notice.
Her fury now reaching unprecedented levels, Umbridge shuffled from the Great Hall—the final gift from the prank appearing to be a severe case of arthritis—and was not seen again in the halls of Hogwarts that day, or for several days after. Many assumed she wished to avoid a repeat of her humiliation, while the reality was that she simply could not dispel the pranks and was forced to wait until they wore off.
The next day calls for Umbridge's removal began to appear in the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler ran a special edition to cover the scandal erupting on the Minister and his Undersecretary. The Quibbler's edition was especially noteworthy, as it contained an interview with Harry Potter himself, as well as a full account of exactly what had occurred in the Defense Professor's office that Halloween evening. And though it was known to only the few friends, Luna had written the articles herself and sent the transcripts of their discussions along to her father, who was happy to increase the circulation of his somewhat odd magazine by printing the statement of the Boy-Who-Lived.
The Minster found himself caught in a deluge of outraged Floo calls and howlers, the worst of which came from Molly Weasley. He was certain that the woman's voice had been heard as far as the Orkneys, and her language was neither pleasant nor acceptable. The furor continued into the weekend as Fudge, though he was quite resigned to sacrificing Umbridge for his own greater good, delayed in sacking her in order to distance himself from her actions and subsequent fall. He employed every political trick he knew during those days, telling reporters he was "investigating" the woman's actions, piously calling for calm while his inquiries ran their course, and calling in several favors to keep the Wizengamot from calling for his own removal.
At length, however, he bowed to the inevitable, though in part it was Jean-Sebastian's final intervention which brought about an end to the situation. Jean-Sebastian had not been idle. Since leaving the Headmaster's office, he had made his sentiments known through his diplomatic channels—putting more pressure on Fudge through his own diatribes against Umbridge, while involving the highest level of the French magical government in the matter as well. He had even used some of his ICW contacts to ensure that Umbridge's actions were known on the international stage as well. Though no meeting of the ICW was called, and no official resolution passed, the combined statements of several European Ambassadors was invaluable in its influence.
Fudge had finally been goaded into action, however, when Jean-Sebastian showed up in his office.
Walking into the Minister's office on that Sunday afternoon, Jean-Sebastian immediately noted the tired, almost haggard appearance of the British Minister. The man appeared as though he had spent almost every waking moment in the office since the scandal with his Undersecretary had broken—and he very likely had, considering the amount of effort he had had to expend in fending off the avalanche of accusation and condemnation which had befallen him.
And still he had not removed the woman from her positions. Jean-Sebastian had spent almost as much time as Fudge in the political world, and the reasons for Fudge's actions had not escaped his attention. This could not be allowed to go any further, however.
"Minister," was Jean-Sebastian's perfunctory greeting as he stepped into the office.
A scowl adorned Fudge's face as he peered up at Jean-Sebastian. "Ambassador, I am quite busy. If you would schedule an appointment with my assistant, I am sure I can spare a few moments for you some time during the week."
"I assure you, Minister, I will not take up much of your… valuable time," Jean-Sebastian responded with a look of distaste. "I believe it is in your best interests to hear what I have to say."
Without an invitation, Jean-Sebastian sat across from the Minister, noting the sniff of disdain he received at his pronouncement. Considering the feeling was decidedly mutual, Jean-Sebastian ignored the petty man and came right to the point.
"Minister, I am concerned, not only over the actions of your Undersecretary, but also for the fact that it is now five days after she used a blood quill to try to bully my ward, and yet she is a teacher at an institution of education."
An exaggerated sigh preceded Fudge's response. "Ambassador, I understand your frustration and impatience. I will make the same reply to you which I have made to everyone else who has pressed me on this matter—the matter is being investigated, and I will take the appropriate steps once that investigation is complete."
Jean-Sebastian leaned forward in his chair and affixed the Minister with a stern and implacable stare. "Let us not obfuscate here, Minister. I am well aware of the reason for your delay. I will not allow it to continue any further. If Madam Umbridge is not removed from her teaching position at Hogwarts this very evening, I will have no choice to pull both my wards from Hogwarts and transfer them to Beauxbatons immediately."
The Minster's consternation was instantly evident as he blanched. "But… but… why would you take Mr. Potter away now?" he sputtered. "He is very well taken care of at Hogwarts where he receives the best instruction available."
"Hogwarts is indeed a premier magical school," was Jean-Sebastian's sage response. "However, Beauxbatons can also claim to be its equal in many ways. I will be blunt—the fact that your Undersecretary has behaved in the manner in which she has, has me deeply troubled. In good conscience I cannot have my ward exposed to the potential of any continuation of the treatment he has been subjected to. The Headmistress of Beauxbatons has assured me that Harry may begin his studies in France as early as tomorrow, and that everything—including language tutors and English instruction—can be provided to him. It is a very generous offer indeed, and one which I cannot turn down if Harry's potential safety is at stake."
Fudge's continued stammering would have been amusing under other circumstances, but in this instance, Jean-Sebastian had not time or patience for the man. He would have his assurances now, or Harry would move to a new school.
"Very well," Fudge managed at last. "I will attempt to hurry along the investigation and make a final determination of Madam Umbridge's status as soon as possible."
"Tonight, Minister," was Jean-Sebastian's steely reply. He stood and turned to leave, but paused at the door for one final warning. "I am in earnest. Do not test my resolve."
Knowing his hand had been forced and his tenure as Minister would almost certainly end should Harry leave the country, Fudge's response was almost instantaneous, as he sacked Umbridge from all her positions. He was able to maintain his own hold on the Minister's office by insisting that he had sent her to the school to improve its quality of education, making certain to note that he had never approved the use of a blood quill on any student, and that he had not even known she possessed them. The gist of his message was that Umbridge's actions were her own, without any reference to him, any consultation on his part, or with the knowledge and approval of any other member of the Ministry. He did accept the criticism that as her superior he should have kept tighter rein on her actions in a showing of contrived remorse for the harm that it caused at the school. And though it galled him to do so, he even offered a Ministry apology to Harry for Umbridge's treatment, and an assurance that the next Defense Professor would not behave in such a manner.
And thus it was that Delores Umbridge's time as Hogwarts' Defense Professor met its rather ignoble end. Her things were packed and she was escorted by two Aurors and the Headmaster personally to the entrance of the school, where the larger part of the student population had gathered to see her off—or at least they gathered to witness her removal, a circumstance which was widely anticipated. The stupid woman was not able to leave the school without a parting shot however, which came verbally the moment she espied Harry watching her with a rather smug expression plastered on his face.
"You think you've won, don't you, you disgusting little Half-blood!"
"I don't think I've won," Harry drawled, "I know I've won."
"Do not become too complacent, Mr. Potter," Umbridge snarled, though the hardness of her voice, combined with her high-pitched nasal whine was more comical than threatening. "I will have my revenge upon you, and all of your little friends."
"She sounds like the Wicked Witch of the West, doesn't she?" Hermione said. "'I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog too!'" she cackled in a credible impression of the classic movie villain, causing the hall to erupt in laughter, especially from the Muggle-born and Half-blood students who recognized the reference.
"That is enough, Delores," Dumbledore spoke up from behind Umbridge. "Leave this school immediately and do not return."
Though Umbridge directed a glare of pure loathing at the Headmaster, she said nothing further as she walked out of the school to the laughter of the assembled crowd. As a parting shot, the Weasley twins had once again pranked her. Whereas from the front her pink robes looked as they ever did, when she turned her back, she appeared once again to be wearing the striped jumpsuit from earlier in the week. The laughter of the crowd did not endear them to her any further than they already were, but for once she held her tongue. Instead she stalked to the edge of the wards and apparated away.
The final note to the saga of Umbridge as Defense Professor was that she did not spend time in Azkaban as a result of the affiar. The penalty for the possession of a blood quill was indeed a fine, but the use of said instrument on a minor was not as clear cut. In the end she was able to bargain with Fudge for his support in pushing for a lenient sentence. As a result, she was able to avoid prison time in favor of an increased fine. In return, Fudge was able to gain her pledge that she would remain silent about some of the questionable activities he had engaged in during the course of his administration. And though Dumbledore would rather have seen her in prison, he unfortunately did not have the support in the Wizengamot for a conviction which included prison time, as the Wizengamot was still influenced by those who believed in blood purity. As Umbridge was a Pureblood, many members were reluctant to relegate her to Azkaban. So he wisely allowed the matter to drop, instead seeing to it that she was hit as hard financially as he could manage. In addition to the fine for the blood quills and their use, a further fine was levied for her comments and threats toward Harry as she was leaving the school. In the end, the fines and penalties were substantial.
Though she was a Pureblood, she was not from a wealthy family; the largest part of the gold she had been able to amass had come from her pay at the Ministry, and her skimming of some of the monies Fudge had received for his support of various bills, mostly from Lucius Malfoy. The fines took a rather large bite out of her vault, though some of her losses were returned by the Minister from his own vault, in a further attempt to buy her silence in the matter of his own activities. One might have believed that she would have revealed the Minister's misdemeanors for spite and revenge alone, but his guarantee that she would be spared Azkaban—coupled with his assurance that she would join him there if she ratted him out—was enough to sway her. No rational person wished to face any possibility of a date with a Dementor, after all.
A final conversation about the position of Defense Professor took place between Fudge and Dumbledore, but in that matter, Fudge found himself somewhat mollified, but again somewhat frustrated.
"I have come to inform you of the identity of your new Defense Professor, Headmaster," Fudge stated without preamble after he stepped from the Floo.
Dumbledore removed his glasses and massaged his temples wearily. It was beyond belief that the Minister still believed that he could control Hogwarts after the spectacular failure of his first choice. Then again, Fudge had always been somewhat blind when he was focused upon his own goals.
"Really, Cornelius, didn't Umbridge's failure teach you anything?"
"What Delores did was reprehensible, Dumbledore, but that is not the point. You require a new Defense Professor, and I have come to appoint one."
"I assure you that is not necessary," Dumbledore responded.
Shocked, Fudge glared at Dumbledore with suspicion evident in his manner. "What do you mean?"
"Only that I have a replacement for Defense already lined up, Minister."
The suspicion in the Minister's eyes increased. "Who?"
"I am afraid that I cannot divulge that information at this time, Minister. Not until I have completed negotiating a contract with the candidate."
"So it's not completed yet?" Fudge said, jumping on the admission as an opportunity to still have his own way.
"No, it is not," was Dumbledore's patient response. "In fact, my candidate will not be able to assume his position until the New Year. Until that time, I shall be taking over the position in the interim. I will only be required to cover the class until Christmas break anyway."
"I'm afraid that is not good enough, Headmaster," Fudge crowed. "I will have to appoint a replacement if your candidate cannot begin immediately."
Dumbledore slowly stood up and turned a menacing gaze on the Minister. "Really Minister, have you not suffered enough of a black eye already with this course of action? We both know that you have only held your position by the slimmest of margins—are you willing to risk being ushered from your office over this? If I take your insistence on interfering with this school again to the Wizengamot, I may have enough votes to remove you."
"Is that a threat, Dumbledore?" Fudge snarled.
"It is merely an observation, Minister," Dumbledore responded. "I have a candidate lined up, and have a plan to cover the class until he is ready to assume his position. The needs of your ridiculous law have been met, and as such, you have no further reason to meddle in this school."
Fudge chewed his lip in indecision. Either that or he was looking for a way to turn the situation back to his advantage. Dumbledore knew he had the Minister, but he was not above throwing the man a bone to placate him.
"If it helps, Cornelius, I assure you that I have no intention whatsoever of pushing for your position. I am quite busy dealing with the positions I already hold. Is my word enough to persuade you to leave me to run the school, or do you need me to swear an oath?"
"Very well," the Minister said at length. "Let me know who your candidate is as soon as you can. I will leave you to it."
With a short bow, the Minister retreated back through the Floo, allowing Dumbledore to once again take his seat and begin to work through the paperwork that had built up the previous few days. Finally, perhaps, a little sanity could be returned to the school.
Updated 06/12/2013