I Must Not Tell Lies

by Flight-o'-Fantasy

It is clear that things are out of hand at Hogwarts. Actions must be taken, and Dumbledore's unhealthy grip on the school must be vanquished. Order must reign, the truth must be set, and the lies uprooted from the underage communities mind-particularly, the deluded and mislead Harry Potter. The task is daunting, but Dolores Jane Umbridge is up for the challenge. Drabble Collection.

3. Holes

The office was much too drab, Dolores decided.

Yes, a proper makeover was certainly in order. Pink would do. Pink would do very nicely.

This decided, Dolores sat down at her desk and methodically began straightening her quills, making sure each were exactly an inch apart and her ink was out of reach of her lists, so there was no chance of spill.

The door opened quietly, and a stern-looking witch entered. Dolores looked up and smiled sweetly at her.

"Hello."

"Good evening, Professor. My name is Minerva McGonagall. I am Deputy Headmistress and a Transfiguration professor here, and I'd like to personally welcome you to Hogwarts," the witch introduced herself, not unkindly but straight to the point. "As Deputy Headmistress, I'll answer any questions you might have."

"Splendid!" Dolores responded lightly, finishing straightening her line of quills. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Minerva. I've heard much about you from Cornelius. We seem to be very like-minded women, you and I."

The deputy rose a single eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes," Dolores continued, lacing her fingers together thoughtfully. "You seem like a grounded, reasonable witch. No nonsense, like myself. Surely you've noticed the holes in the web as I have?"

"And what holes would that be?"

"I think you know. Holes. Small ones that are gradually becoming bigger, worse and much more noticeable. Holes that certain people are enlarging. Holes that people like you and I can work together and fix."

Minerva's eyes narrow. "I don't like what you're implying."

"I'm not implying anything."

"Oh, yes, I believe you are. And I can tell you right now." Her eyes became hard and she leveled Dolores with a fierce glare. "I won't be part of it."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"No, you're not," McGonagall said coldly. "But I wouldn't expect you to. Good evening, Professor Umbridge."

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall."

The door closed with a loud snap and one of Dolores' quills rolled slightly out of place.

Dolores stared at the closed door for a moment, before silently fixing the quill once more.