(Chapter 6: Umbridge's Umbrage)
Neville couldn't concentrate during History of Magic so he just sat there and stared at the wall, which happened to be right through Professor Binns. Too many things were running through his mind, many of those were of the events last night.
He hadn't explained his long absence from the common room but only told his friends, Harry, Ron and Hermione, that he had been to the Hospital wing.
"Again?" Ron blurted out.
"Honestly, Neville, this is going too far. You should report it to Dumbledore." Ron nodded emphatically to Hermione's suggestion.
"No, I can't…I mean…he already knows." Neville looked at the three of them who looked too aghast for words.
"Wait, a minute," Harry paused, "He knows that you've been going to the Hospital wing because of Snape?"
"Yes," Neville wanted to say more on the matter but he didn't for some reason. "He knows. I mean, he knows about Snape—uh, Professor Snape, I mean…" He corrected himself.
"Did you just correct yourself?" Ron asked with disbelief. "What happened to just plain Snape, or rather, Snape the Biggest Git Ever to Come and Teach at Hogwarts?"
Hermione sighed, "Ron, that's enough."
"If Dumbledore knows about what's going on, why isn't he helping you?" Harry seemed to be asking this question as much to himself as to Neville. "I mean, why doesn't he do anything?"
Neville just shrugged and finally said, "Rules are rules, I guess. Anyway my detention's almost over and…I'm tired, so I should get to bed."
He was on the foot of the stairs as he looked back at the three of them. He had wondered why they were waiting for him at this late an hour but figured with all the trouble Umbridge was giving the students, they might've thought she had kidnapped him.
"Goodnight." Hermione and Ron nodded goodnight but Harry didn't respond so Neville went up the tower stairs, lost in his own thoughts.
Neville had felt guilty about not telling them what really happened with Professor Snape and how he, Neville Longbottom—the failure of Potions class, had managed to save his life. He also noticed that Harry hadn't known what Neville had done, even though Dobby was sure to have told him.
Did Dumbledore tell Dobby not to say anything to Harry? Neville wondered. But why?
It may have been the same reason Neville hadn't told his friends. Saving a wizard's life was a serious thing—it was a life debt.
But that never would've happened if he hadn't tested that stupid potion… Neville remembered.
He also remembered Professor Snape had originally meant for him to take the potion. If Neville had almost died and was saved by Professor Snape then he would've owed his life to him. Even though Hogwarts' rules had strictly forbidden a student to be poisoned in class, there were exceptions. Neville remembered how Colin Creevy had been poisoned by Professor Snape and was saved at the last minute. Did Colin owe his life to Professor Snape?
The stuffy air in the classroom was getting to him as Professor Binns droned on and on about some Goblin war. Neville was glad when the break after History of Magic came. Unfortunately, it was right before double Potions.
For once Potions class wasn't as terrible as it usually was.
Professor Snape pretty much ignored Neville the whole time and didn't so much as curl his lip when he inspected the cauldron. It also helped that they happened to be working on a Digestive Draught—which included the same ingredient Neville had painfully obtained from the Garffghoul.
"All right that's long enough. Bring your vials up here." Professor Snape sat at his desk, eyes sharply to the front. Each of the students came up, brining their different colored vials.
Neville's own vial resembled a pasty grey but he thought it was a lot better than Ron's vial, which had turned a neon green.
"What on earth did you put in yours, Ron?" Hermione hissed to him.
"I just followed the instructions like it said, chopped Diricawl claw—"
"No, Ron, it's not supposed to be chopped…and you don't put it in before the fernuncula fungi."
Hermione held her vial up. It was a pearlescent blue. At least Neville's vial wasn't too far off from the color…if you were colorblind, that was.
He went up to Snape's desk and presented the vial. He half-expected to see Snape's usual sneer but the Professor only marked it off and uttered, "Next."
All in all it was probably the best Potions class Neville had completed.
"I guess Umbridge shook him up a bit." Harry turned in his vial but as usual got a low mark even though his vial was more of a dark blue color. "He might have to watch his back a little more closely."
They were walking back toward the Great Hall where they split up and took their different seats at Griffindor table.
Fred and George were conferring silently while Harry, Ron and Hermione were talking amongst themselves. Later, Ginny, Cho Chang from Ravenclaw and her friend Marietta stopped by to talk about the meeting for Dumbledore's Army, the secret self defense class Harry had set up in light of Dolores Umbridge's stubborn anti-magic Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Neville had had to skip some of the meetings because of his detention but luckily he caught up fast with the help of Harry, whom he was usually paired up with.
Neville quickly finished his lunch and looked toward the teacher's tables. Only a few of the teachers were missing, Dumbledore and Snape included, but Neville noted nervously that Professor Umbridge was present and accounted for.
She was watching Griffindor table the way a cat would look at a mouse hole, waiting to see if anything would come out.
Her eyes met his and her big ugly faced stretched in a wide toothy grin.
Neville quickly looked away. His stomach was churning his last meal uneasily.
The next class was Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Umbridge was walking slowly between the desks of the students. She casually brought her wand out to summon a bit of parchment from Parvati who was writing to Lavender.
"Five points from Griffindor." She sweetly simpered. "There's no note passing allowed in my class." She quickly read the content of the note then crumpled it in her pudgy hand before vanishing it with her wand. "Continue reading from your books, please."
Even though it was double DADA, all they did was read and recite passages from books like, "Defending the Un-armed: Choosing Your Words Carefully Against Curses", "Silence is Golden: Defiance Without Dissidence", and "What You Don't Know Can Help You: How Paranoia is Harmful".
They were all pretty much the same with the same message, See No Evil, Hear No Evil and Speak No Evil. In this case, evil seemed to be anything having to do with magical self-defense. Even though they were constantly being warned about outer threats (including Muggles, in Umbridge's case), they were not supposed to do anything about it. It was constant vigilance without the vigilance.
Neville didn't see how this was any help to the students. It wasn't even practical. How were you supposed to guard yourself against a Blasting Hex with conversation like, "What you do to me, you are doing to yourself."? Neville doubted very much that Malfoy would feel a Blasting Hex if he were aiming it at Neville while he was un-armed.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost didn't see Umbridge looming over him in her bright frilly pink robes. He caught himself looking up into her pale malevolent eyes.
"We're all on page 46, Longbottom, if you can catch up to the rest of the class."
"Uh…yes, Professor Umbridge." He flipped forward a few pages then stared at the page, not reading a single word.
"See me after class, Longbottom." Professor Umbridge walked to her desk which was covered in a lacy pink cloth.
She continued to watch Neville as he furtively looked up from time to time from his book.
What could he possibly have done now?
When class was over he slowly walked up to her desk.
Umbridge stared down at him then beckoned him to her side as she briskly walked out of the class and made her way to her own office. On the door was the golden plaque of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor.
"Hurry up, come in." She waved her stubby ring be-decked hand and Neville went inside, feeling like he had just entered the lion's den.
"Sit down, sit down."
Umbridge settled herself rather fussily into her plush chair. She waved her wand and the flowered pot of tea magically started to whistle. She made her own cup of tea, adding quite a bit of sugar, all the while never taking so much as a glance at Neville.
He waited patiently while she finished her small ritual.
She slurped a small sip and smiled.
"You and I need to have a little chat."
Neville felt his throat go dry and he swallowed hard as his tongue seemed to go numb.
"About what?"
Umbridge's smile faltered a little but perked right up as she made another cup of tea. She set the cup and saucer in front of Neville.
"How is your detention with Professor Snape?"
Neville couldn't read the expression of hers beyond the usual simpering smile so he answered truthfully, "I thought he was going to kill me."
"Really?" Her tone wasn't surprised.
"I mean at first, he was really angry with me."
"And why did you receive your detention with Professor Snape?" She leaned forward ever so slightly.
"Because I lost my temper." Neville looked down, embarrassed.
"Why did you lose your temper?" It was as if she were trying to get at something Neville was hiding.
"Because…because he made me angry…he insulted me." He didn't meet her eyes and certainly didn't like where this was going. What business was it of hers what Professor Snape did to him?
"Why does he insult you, Neville?"
"He just does! I don't know why!" Neville looked up and suddenly wished he hadn't. Umbridge's smile seemed to have grown wider within her fat face.
"You must've done something to make him insult you…" Her mouth may have been a ghastly smile but her eyes were shining sharply with no humor.
"I didn't…he does that with everyone—everyone but the Slytherins, that is…" He didn't touch his tea and didn't want to. He wanted to leave. Right now.
"Shall I ask the Slytherins what they think of him, then?" Her tone was oddly inquisitive, as if she were pretending to care.
"Go ahead. They'll probably defend him, he's the head of their house." Neville didn't really care one way or the other.
Then all of a sudden Umbridge asked a question so far off that Neville almost didn't hear her correctly. "Do you blame him, Neville?"
"What?"
"Do you blame Professor Snape for your problems in class?" She had a strange look on a her face. It was something close to sympathy, though in her case it looked like she had swallowed a sour pill.
"I don't have any problems in class."
"Hmm, hmm." She had clasped her hands in front of her and was staring him down, nodding and nodding at nothing at all. "How do you feel toward Professor Snape?"
"I don't feel anything. I mean I used to hate him but now I don't because—"
"Because why?" She sharply interrupted.
He didn't like where this was going. Not at all. "I think I understand him better now. I think I know why he's so mean."
"Why is he mean, Neville?"
Well, at least she stopped asking questions about himself. He thought carefully before answering.
"I think he's just lonely…"
"Hmm, hmm." Umbridge did that weird nodding again. "Do you feel lonely, Neville?"
Now she was talking about him again! Why did she keep twisting the conversation around?
"I…uh…not really. I mean I have friends…"
"Do you?" She didn't seem to believe him.
"Yes, I mean I talk to my friends, Ginny, Luna and Hermione." He nervously watched Umbridge's reaction then hastily added, "And Harry, Ron…sometimes Fred and George."
"Hmmm." Umbridge gave a disapproving nod.
Neville didn't mention Dobby for obvious reasons. He didn't think Umbridge would approve of him being friends with Dobby. But then again, why did he care what Umbridge thought?
"Are you a trouble-maker, Neville?"
That came out of nowhere.
"No! I'm not."
"Then I would suggest you choose your friends more carefully. The Weasley twins are hardly suitable companions for someone such as yourself. As for the rest of them, well…" Umbridge gave a distasteful pause, "I would suggest you try making friends with someone closer to your…standards."
Neville was speechless.
"I can be your friend, Neville." She reached out slowly and Neville had to use all his self control not to jerk back as she put her large pudgy cold hand on his. "I'm sure we have a lot in common."
Neville dimly nodded his head.
"Why don't we arrange another tea time, just the two of us, hmm? We can talk about your aggressive feelings and try to sort them out."
"I don't have any aggressive…" He tried to explain but he saw the patronizing look Umbridge was giving him and decided not to bother. "Yes, Professor Umbridge."
"Oh, you can call me, Dolores—at least in my office, dear, while it's just the two of us, ok?" She gave another hard pat on his hand.
He nodded once more and was about to get up when Umbridge spoke up.
"And don't you worry about Professor Snape and that detention. I'll speak to him later, dear, and clear that right up."
"Ok." Umbridge seemed to be waiting for something, so he added, "Thank you—Dolores."
She grinned her horrible toothy smile and Neville excused himself from her office.
By the time Neville reached the Great Hall, dinner was almost over. He sat down and helped himself to the leftovers though he wasn't feeling particularly hungry at the moment.
He had no idea why Umbridge had had that strange talk with him or why she had asked so many strange questions. He decided to just ignore it.
Severus was angrily scratching his quill in his book. It wasn't precisely a journal but rather a notebook he kept to write things in.
Things like, "Why the hell do I have to put up with this?" and other rantings such as, "If only I could kill myself…"
It helped to write things down in case he forgot. Anytime he felt an inkling of goodwill toward someone, he would hastily pull out his little notebook and look up their name, seeing all the nasty stuff he had written down about them. That usually did the trick.
He was just finishing his list on Dumbledore when he looked up at the clock. It was twenty past six. The Longbottom brat was late for his detention. He hastily flipped to the page with Longbottom on it.
"Stupid…
"Fat…
"Gryffindor…
"Friend of Potter's..."
The last one was unforgivable.
Just then a sharp rapping knock came from the door to his office.
"What is it now?" He sat up from his stooped writing position.
"Hogwarts High Inquisitor." The voice behind the door made him suddenly want to scratch his neck and back very badly. He could already feel the attack of hives coming on. He was going to need more essence of murtlap tonight.
Severus raised his wand in preparation as he saw the knob turn. He had put a stunning spell on the entrance to his office and it was heavily enforced.
The door opened.
It was followed by a high pitched gasping squeal.
Severus quickly spoke the counter-curse, but not too quickly.
The door slowly creaked open and Umbridge stood there looking a bit out of sorts. Her wand hung limply from her hand and her ordinarily neat bright red hair looked a bit frizzy and was standing on end.
"What was that spell?" She harshly whispered.
Severus calmly walked to the door trying to repress a sudden urge to fall on the floor laughing his behind off.
"It's a stunning hex, meant to shock any intruder who dares to enter unannounced into my office."
With quick sudden jerks, Umbridge straightened her frizzy hair. "I believe I had properly announced myself before I came in!"
"I must not have heard…I was busy waiting for a student to arrive for their detention." He turned back to his desk, not even bothering to look at Umbridge.
"Yes, I know. Longbottom and I had a nice little chat about that."
Severus looked at her with his brow raised. The fat stupid woman had conjured up a pink plushy chair in front of his desk and sat without invitation. He noted that the chair must've had a built-in booster cushion, otherwise Umbridge wouldn't have been able to see him from across his desk.
"What did he say about it?" Severus was oddly curious about what Neville Longbottom might have said concerning his detention.
"I gathered that you are a very strict teacher and your methods are quite, how shall I say this? Ruthless."
"Sometimes force is necessary."
"Oh, I quite agree, in this case." She smiled a disgusting simpering smile.
He waited patiently for her to get to the point.
"My point is, Severus, that although your methods may be appropriate for such discipline, I find that another touch is needed to get results…"
"What results would those be?"
She continued rather smugly, "Longbottom is a very special case and he needs to be handled with certain care."
"I fail to see your point."
"Well, in case you didn't notice, Longbottom's condition seems to be hereditary. I mean, what with his parents in St. Mungo's for mental illness—you see just how dangerous this situation really is…"
Severus could've smacked Umbridge right then and there.
Neville Longbottom's parents had been driven insane by the Cruciatus curse that was put on them by Bellatrix Lestrange—Lord Voldemort's most insidious and sadistic servant.
Severus knew the evil witch's taste in pain as Bellatrix had used that same curse on him while trying to find out whose side he was really on. Severus' body had never been the same since and it was the cause of his aching joints, premature arthritis, migraines and irregular heart beats. You were lucky to survive such a curse but he had paid his price.
Unfortunately, Neville Longbottom's parents had been forced to withstand the curse for longer than any one thought possible. Beyond breaking their bodies, the curse had broken their minds beyond repair and there was no cure.
That this horrible woman, Umbridge, should imply their insanity was heredity was unspeakable.
"I don't think Neville's mental state is any of your concern, Dolores." He abruptly stood up from his desk, "I have business to attend to." Severus strode to the door and opened it knowing that Umbridge needed no hint.
However, she remained seated and spoke to him from behind her back. "I understood that most teachers don't call their students by their first names—it's unprofessional."
He froze with his hand on the door.
"I would hate to think that anything unprofessional has occurred between you and Longbottom, Severus."
Was she saying what he thought she was saying?
"No such thing has occurred and if you so much as think such a thought I will personally curse you myself and feed your disgusting carcass to my garfghoul where it will vomit you up into so much rotten slime."
This is what Severus should have said.
What came out instead was, "I think you should leave now, I must get back to the matter of Longbottom's detention."
Umbridge rose, vanishing her vulgar char, then stood to face him. "You will no longer be in charge of Longbottom's detention. He will serve out the remaining time with me."
She brushed past him in a flurry of pink frills.
"Good night, Severus."
He remained motionless at the door.
He stood there for several more moments.
Severus uttered a curse and threw the door shut with all of his might.
It slammed with an echoing crash the filled the entire dungeons.
Her face wouldn't leave his mind.
It chased him through his nightmares.
There was nowhere for him to run, everywhere he turned, she was right behind him, following, watching, waiting…
"I didn't do anything wrong!" He wanted to scream at her but all that came out was a hoarse whisper from his aching throat.
Umbridge just smiled that awful toothy grin.
Then suddenly her face changed and it became long and lean.
Neville thought it would be Professor Snape's face staring back at him but he was wrong.
The witch raised her wand and cackled the evil curse.
"Crucio!"
Bellatrix Lestrange's evil laughter turned into a high pitched screech.
It was too late.
Neville clamped his hands against his ears while the laughter shrilled through his brain.
"Oi! Neville!"
Someone was shaking him.
His eyes flew open to the glaring brightness of daylight.
"Time to get up! You don't want to miss breakfast."
It was Ron Weasley.
"Oh, sorry…" Neville mumbled to him but Ron was already on his way out. No doubt eating all he could to gear himself for the next Quidditch practice.
Neville rubbed his eyes and stared off into the window of their room in Gryffindor tower. There was frost on the ground and winter was already here. Soon the snow would fall and it would be Christmas.
Ordinarily Neville liked Christmas. His Gran always gave him nice presents, even if they weren't exactly what he wanted. One time he got a real yeti hair lined boots but couldn't wear them because he developed a nasty allergic rash to the hair.
He wondered what he would be getting this year.
While at the breakfast table he happened to spy Luna reading from the Quibbler.
"Trolls on the Loose? Where at?" Neville helped himself to some apple cobbler as he read the unbelievable headline.
"In London but they're invisible, of course." Luna never took her eyes off the newspaper while shoveling a great big spoonful of bread pudding into her mouth.
"Oh." He really didn't know what to say to that. "Christmas is coming up, do you have any plans?"
He should've known not to expect a real answer from Luna Lovegood because she only replied, "Father and I are going to look for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."
Again he was rendered speechless.
All he could do was eat in silence as he watched Luna's big blue eyes scan the Quibbler newspaper. A lock of her straggly blond hair fell right between her eyes and as usual, her wand was snuggled behind her ear.
She was really quite pretty when she wanted to be though.
Neville remembered the time she had dressed up during the Yule Ball when she had gone with some Ravenclaw Quidditch player.
Luna glanced up from her magazine and met his eyes.
Neville quickly looked down at his empty plate and scraped at it aimlessly.
His face felt hot all of a sudden.
"Shouldn't you be heading off to Charms with the rest of the Gryffindors?" Luna asked.
Neville suddenly looked at the suspended clock in the Great Hall. It was fifteen minutes after eight.
"Oh no! I'm late!" He nearly fell over the bench in his hurry but Luna had gone back to reading the Quibbler.
For some reason she had taken to sitting at the Gryffindor table at odd times, like breakfast. No one else bothered to tell her to go back to her own table with the Ravenclaws.
Neville had gotten used to her presence and was rather glad of it.
He felt his face grow warm again and hurried to charms.
As he stepped in the door, he just remembered he had forgotten his Charms homework, book and wand.
It was not a good start to the day.
The whole day had gone wrong somehow and all Neville could think was that it had started that way because of his horrible nightmare.
As he raised his hand to knock on the door, he paused for a moment.
He never told anyone about the strange conversation he had had with Umbridge. For some reason she made him uneasy and though he couldn't put his finger on it, he felt as if he had said something he shouldn't have.
Like a spider weaving a web, slowly, slowly, it would wrap around until it was finished and you were caught.
"Come in!"
Her voice rang out from behind the door and although Neville hadn't knocked it was if she had known he was standing there.
Neville braced himself and entered Umbridge's office, otherwise known as the place of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor.
The inquisition began.
She was perched upon her fluffy pink armchair but this time there was no tea.
Although the garish decorations of kittens rambling amuck remained, Neville felt an ominous shadow fall across the room.
He sat in the plain wooden chair across her desk.
"I had a little chat with Professor Snape about your detention." She stared at him with her awful flat glaring eyes then went on. "Not to worry. He understands your situation and that you require special care—uh, attention, for your actions." She grinned but her flat eyes remained cold.
"So, what do I have to do?" Neville swallowed nervously and felt a dry click in his throat.
"You don't have to DO anything. We can just…chat."
"Ok."
She continued to stare at him.
"Ok, Professor Umbridge."
"Now then, why don't you tell me about what is happening with your friends?"
Immedietly a Quick-Quotes Quill flew out of her desk and onto a piece of parchment.
Neville stared at it with apprehension.
"This is so I can look back on our conversation of what you've said. It's to help you, Neville."
He nodded, not believing a word she said then began to talk.
"My friends are…busy, with school. I have meals with them and we study together sometimes."
He measured his words carefully then spoke again.
"I like being with my friends. We get along well. They are really great."
Umbridge snatched the Quick-Quotes Quill from the parchment suddenly.
"If this is to work, Neville, you need to be completely honest with me." She loomed over him from across her frilly laced desk. "This is so I can help you. I can't help you if you don't help yourself."
Neville thought he recognized this from one of their useless Defense Against the Dark Arts Theory book, the one where you would use psychological tactics against your opponent, supposedly before they could blast you into smithereens with a curse.
"Right. Well…to be honest, there's not much to say. Sometimes I don't talk to them much but that's because Harry and Ron are usually busy with Quidditch. The Weasley twins go off and do their own stuff, Ginny is usually with a boy and Luna is buried in her Quibbler newspaper."
He didn't think any of that could be used against him.
But Umbridge took him by surprise.
"They don't sound like your real friends. Real friends wouldn't ignore you like that, Neville. If they're too busy to even talk to you why should you trust them?"
"It's not like that at all," he quickly defended them, "It's just that we all have our own lives and it's Ok if we're not together all the time."
"And where are you when they're off doing 'their own things'?"
"I'm by myself…studying, I guess."
She nodded sympathetically but Neville could see her lips twitch as if to laugh.
"It sounds to me like you're often left alone. Do you feel alone, Neville?"
"Sometimes. I guess."
"Do they often leave you alone while they are off at one of their clubs?"
"Well, if it's Quidditch, then yes. I don't fly so I'm not in the club."
"What about their other clubs?"
"You mean like Gobbstones?"
"No, Neville. I mean their 'private' clubs."
"We don't have any…"
Neville looked as the Quick-Quotes Quill stopped scribbling suddenly. He had forgotten all about it as Umbridge hurled question after question at him.
He looked back at her and saw a greedy expectant look in her eyes.
"They're not private then? Anyone can join?"
He stared at the Quill.
"What do you call yourselves, Neville?"
"Uh, nothing."
"You must have a name for your…gathering."
"We don't have a gathering."
"What then? A meet-up? A rendezvous? What is it?"
Her tone was less than friendly. It was getting downright hostile.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're getting at." Neville could feel himself breaking out into a sweat.
She snatched the Quill and held it in her hand.
"You can tell me, Neville. This will just be between us."
He slowly shook his head then looked at her.
Her face showed an oddly crazed expression.
"I'm sorry, there's nothing to tell."
The Quill snapped in her pudgy hand and black ink splattered the paper and onto the pink lacy tablecloth.
Umbridge tossed the Quill and raised her wand.
Neville couldn't help but flinch.
She uttered a vanishing spell and the ink was gone.
"I'm very sorry to hear that you don't trust me, Neville. It seems that your friends have forced you into keeping their little secret. So unfortunate that they are using you in such a false manner."
Umbridge stood up and rolled the ink-stained parchment up.
"I can only hope that you will see them for what they really are."
Neville sat in the hard-backed wooden chair.
"Just remember, that unlike them, I'm your true friend. You can trust me, Neville."
He couldn't bring himself to answer so he just stared straight ahead of her desk. He saw a bit of black ink had stained her garishly pink dress. She hadn't seen it when she did her spell. The blots of ink looked like tiny dark holes eating the fabric away into her stomach.
"Am I excused from detention, Professor?"
"Yes, you may go, Neville."
He got up without a word and headed to the door. He cringed inwardly when she said his name again.
"Neville? You will come to me when you feel like talking?"
He nodded without looking at her and opened the door, feeling like a convict coming out of a prison chamber.
When he was down the hall, he pushed himself into a jog and ran as fast as he could to Gryffindor tower.
All of a sudden he felt very sick.
Severus reached the gargoyles that guarded Dumbledore's office. He said the password but they didn't move.
He cursed aloud.
"Blasted Dragon Piss!"
One of the gargoyles gave him the stink eye and said in a gravelly voice, "You there! Watch your language!"
"Oh shut up, you bloody gargoyle." Severus turned and ignored the stony retort. As usual he was in a bad mood.
After that Umbridge woman insulted him he was out of sorts. She made a disgusting accusation and he intended to straighten it out. Dumbledore should know that woman was spreading lies and no matter how outlandish they were she had to be stopped.
For some strange reason, the Headmaster wasn't there. He had even asked Minerva about it but she didn't seem to know either.
"He has his own reasons for being absent, Severus, I'm not privy to his private life." She had a stack of scrolls in her arms, though she should've finished correcting them already.
"In case you haven't noticed, now is not a good time to leave the school. I hear Cornelius Fudge may be coming here on a personal visit, courtesy of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor, of course." Severus added.
"Inquisitor my foot! There will be no sacking of teachers around here I can assure you. It will take more than that woman's say so to get rid of us. I won't go without a fight!" Minerva adjusted her glasses with her free hand.
"You might want to pass that on to what's-her-face, oh yes, Trelawney. But then again, I'm sure she can foresee what's coming to her."
Minerva raised her brows but said nothing.
"When will Albus be back?" Severus inquired.
"That I do not know. If he hasn't told you where he has gone then I couldn't possibly guess." With those last words to him, Minerva McGonagall brushed by, robes aflutter.
Severus seethed and swore under his breath. He rounded the corner then slammed into something. Or rather someone.
It was a girl, a Ravenclaw girl. Worse yet, it was Lovegood, of the Loony Lovegood's.
She looked up at him with her big blue bulging eyes.
Severus' dry throat clicked as he tried to swallow. Unfortunately, he was staring right into those eyes.
Truth be told she gave him the creeps. There was just something about her big, bulging blue eyes that was—unsettling.
It was as if she were waiting for something to happen as she stared at him.
"Does she think my head will explode?" he thought.
He normally avoided her presence, even in class. She was just so—odd.
"What are you doing here?" he asked her harshly.
"I'm walking." Her answer was as vague as the look on her face.
"Why are you walking here?"
"I felt like it."
What an insolent brat. "Well, go do it someplace else."
He quickly moved around her and went on his way. He wasn't in the mood to deal with oddities and as usual, a migraine was building in his skull.
It was going to be another bad night.
Dolores tapped her nails impatiently on her desk. Her nails made smart little clicking sounds on the polished desk where she kept her pot of tea and her favorite pink rosebud teacup set.
She did not like to be kept waiting.
Not at all.
There was a loud pop sound followed by tiny tapping feet hurriedly making their way to her seat.
She got up and loomed over the elf.
"You have kept me waiting, Dobby. I do not like to wait." She gave him her most menacing smile.
That was her rule. Smile. Always smile, no matter what, even in the midst of anger. If one could smile through anything then one was capable of control.
The elf took a step back, its ears downcast, while its eyes shifted nervously from side to side.
She didn't like that at all.
"Look at me while I'm talking to you."
The elf complied but rather reluctantly.
"I want some answers and you are going to give them to me."
Dolores took out her wand. It wasn't necessary really, since the stupid elf could only follow orders and not disobey. Still, she liked to have it in her hand.
"What answers, ma'm?" The elf squeaked.
"I want to know what that boy Potter is up to, along with his little friends." She noticed the elf's eyes dart away at the boy's name but she pursued it. "Tell me what he is planning."
"Planning, ma'm?"
"Yes, planning! Stop repeating everything I say." She remembered to end it on a smile then began again.
"Did you not see Potter and his friends together, plotting something?"
The elf stood there stuttering and whimpering until it yelped out, "NO!" It hastily put its hand over its mouth.
"Did you not hear him saying something about anything?" She looked down upon the creature, staring at it.
Again, the creature seemed to shudder before uttering, "No…"
It seemed reluctant to answer her and yet the creature seemed to be telling her the truth.
"You are not hiding something from me?"
"I…uh…um…er…" The elf looked like it was almost choking.
"Out with it!" Dolores brought her wand down and red sparks flew out.
"NO!" Now the elf dissolved into tears.
Dolores' smile dissolved. "Leave." She motioned her hand at the creature, flicking her fingers in the air with distaste.
Another loud pop sounded and the elf was gone.
She was rather disappointed with the results. She was sure the elf was telling her the truth, though it was out of sorts. But elves were such strange creatures, there was no explaining their neurotic behavior.
Thank goodness there was the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures! There was no telling what trouble those things would get into if it weren't for responsible wizards and witches to keep them in their place.
Still, Delores was troubled. She wasn't much closer to finding out what that Potter brat and those children were up to. The soon to be dismissed Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was surprisingly absent which was rather odd. But it was all to the good in case Cornelius should arrive and find the truth of the matter, which was that the school was headed in the wrong direction and it desperately needed a proper guide.
Dolores knew that she had been brought here for a reason. She had seen to it that Cornelius sent her instead of some bumbling idiot muggle-sympathizer to set things right.
Now that she was here it was time for action.
She headed to her own fireplace and gathered some floo powder from a jar. She threw the green glittering powder in and waited.
A pale drawn face with blond hair and sharp eyes looked back at her from within the fireplace.
Dolores spoke.
"Draco, I have a job for you."
She smiled.