Chapter 9 – The Succession of Horrors

Thursday, August 30th, 1995

There was no reasonable explanation for why Delores was soaking wet and lying flat on her back next to the cot she had fallen asleep in the night before. A couple of quick drying charms soon had Delores back in bed and getting a few hours of desperately needed sleep before she was woken up to have breakfast and be discharged.

Delores had spent the rest of the day setting up her new office and trying to seek some explanation for the woeful fortnight of disturbing sleep and horrible visions.

Nights of restful (or little) sleep totally evaded Delores for the last days of August leading up to the arrival of students and professors at Hogwarts. Delores had sought out every bit of medical and magical explanation and relief for her symptoms and increasing nervousness. Nothing seemed to help. She had even sought an audience with one of the Unspeakables to see if she was having some sort of visions of the future. The cloaked man had the audacity to laugh at her descriptions and had Aurors escort her back to the elevators and out of the Department of Mysteries.

And the dreams had been getting more graphic, more memorable despite however much she wished she could forget about them. She had dreamed that she had found an excuse to ban Potter from Quidditch for life and to confiscate his broom but then discovered that the Quidditch pitch had been turned into a giant swamp and the goals had come up missing while he was still writing lines for her. Another nightmare had found her wandering in the Forbidden Forest and accosted by a giant who licked her arm and declared her yummy (Ewww!).

Other dreams had included a herd of those beastly Centaurs galloping into the Great Hall and carrying her off while three of the four Houses broke out in a standing ovation. The last one had been most unnerving; the Inquisitorial Squad and her had caught Potter and five other students trying to use her personal floo to go rescue Sirius Black. She had turned the six troublemakers over to Professor Snape while she had personally led her followers to the Ministry of Magic to capture the wanted criminal in England herself.

When they had arrived at the Department of Mysteries they had not found any sign of Sirius Black. In her dream, Delores and the others had found some people dressed up like Death Eaters. 'They' were very unhappy that Harry Potter hadn't showed up. It was very emotional horror to watch one of the supposed Death Eaters appear with Minister Fudge at wand point and kill him with the most vile of the Unforgiveable Curses.

The Minister had been less than happy when Delores had broken into his home at one-thirty in the morning to reassure herself that it was a dream she had been experiencing and not reality. That she had attacked and bypassed two Aurors to do such was something that Delores knew she would be fined for.

It was now Thursday night however and Delores had, against both Madame Pomfrey's and Healer Jagiss' advice, had procured a small vial of a perfectly clear potion. The Draught of Living Death; a deadly potion if used improperly. It had been Professor Snape himself who had been reluctant to give the mixture to Umbridge but a signed order by Cornelius Fudge absolved him of any feelings of guilt about handing over the powerful potion.

There had been very specific instructions as to check the appearance of the liquid in the vial and the amount of potion a person of Madam… Professor Umbridge's age, weight and general health required. The necessary counter-agent was also provided for her house elf to administer to bring her out of the induced slumber in the morning.

Uncapping the vial of clear fluid, Delores poured it into a glass to examine her best hope of a good night's sleep and the banishment of the horrible dreams/visions/nightmares she had been having since Cornelius Fudge had given her the assignment to Hogwarts. She looked at it trying to see if there were any discolorations or impurities in the potion; she saw none. The potion smelled faintly of almonds as she had been told it should. Holding her breath for a second, Delores drank the Draught of Living Death. She only had a few seconds to get comfortable in her bed and cover herself up before falling quickly into slumber.

~Q~ ~Q~ ~Q~ ~Q~

~Q~ ~Q~

~Q~

((A.N. Original dialogue taken directly from the books is in italics from here on out. CC))

Delores blinked her eyes and looked around. As much as she could in the circumstances; it was dark in this passageway; a stone corridor in reality. The end of the corridor was only a few feet away so the only direction to go was forward through the seven foot high walls and arched stonework. There was only a single faraway torch lit to cast light through the tendrils of fog that curled around her feet and legs. It was very quiet with only a steady drip, drop of water marring the silence. There was a whisper of a conversation toward the open end of the passageway but that seemed a long way off.

Looking around, Delores was quick to take inventory of her situation. That she was in a dream was unmistakable; it had happened so many times in the past couple of weeks not to consider that she was actually awake. She was clothed the time, as opposed to the recent horrible nightmare of dancing naked with Mr. Filch at the Ministry's Yule Ball with all the Wizengamot watching on.

No matter how much she searched her pockets, Delores' 5 inch yew and runespoor scale wand was not on her person. She had her favorite tweed suit and cap on though so that was a little reassuring.

A hand touched her shoulder and Delores shrieked in alarm and stumbled to the side of the passageway. A boy's voice called out to her with a shushing voice.

"Sorry, I really didn't mean to startle you. I was just wondering if you knew where we were."

"Why would you think I would know? I think I'm asleep actually."

"That's a strange thing to say … ahh. Sorry I didn't catch your name?"

"Umbridge, Delores Umbridge. Do you have any idea where we are?"

"No, but I could guess Hogwarts; at least the stonework looks familiar. Lumos." A light appeared at the tip of the wand the boy was holding in his hand. He flashed it around the corridor and caught Delores right in the face. She flinched backwards and the person holding the wand swore and apologized. And then muttered something.

"What was that you said?"

"That's 7 sickles. I have a friend that fines me and my friend Ron 7 sickles every time we swear. She says we'll never get a girlfriend if we're constantly resorting to vulgarity and coarseness."

"She sounds like a smart girl."

"The smartest. She says she's using the fines to save up for a ball gown but she always seems to buy the first round of Butterbeers whenever we go down to Hogsmeade."

Delores had a smug grin. 'Juvenile boys and their friends who were girls; the males are always the slowest' she thought.

"The sound came from down that way I think. By the way my name is…" The person with Delores allowed his lit wand to come up to shine on his face and shoulders. Delores didn't know whether to laugh or start screaming when she saw the semi-familiar face and very famous scar that had appeared on so many front pages of The Daily Prophet.

"You're Harry Potter!"

There was a little bit of resignation and sadness when the boy responded. "Yeah, I know. I get that response a lot the first time people look at me."

"You sound disappointed. I thought you loved the attention and hero-worship."

"Not me. I wish Voldemort had gotten sick that Halloween many years ago and stayed home and worked on his crossword puzzle or something. I miss my parents."

Just then a larger noise was heard from the other end of the corridor and both Delores and the Potter boy turned to look toward the source. "There's at least one person up there I think."

"We can carry the torch until we get to a better lit area." Harry walked up and pulled the torch from its holder on the wall. "That's probably the only way out as I don't feel any sort of breeze coming through these walls that might indicate a hidden passage. I would prefer to get out of here instead of waiting for something or somebody to trap us in a dead end corridor."

The Potter boy seemed to wait until Delores fell in step behind him all the while wondering if she could snatch the wand out of his hand and apply a few hexes and curses to the Boy-Who-Lived. Potter however kept enough in front of her to keep that from being possible.

A few short passages and two turns brought them to a place where they could see a lit space ahead that the corridor led into. Delores watched as Potter slowed down and hugged one wall as he advanced. He finally placed the torch up into an empty holder when there was enough light to see their way.

Feeling a bit cautious herself Delores walked slowly behind Potter as he eased himself forward. They came to a point where they could see into the room ahead and Potter abruptly stopped.

"Go ahead."

"I would but there's a magical barrier here. We can see through it but I can't move forward. I'll go check the other side."

Potter ducked low as he hurried to the other side and got a better view of the room ahead. Delores saw him stop and heard him gasp as he caught a look at the whole room from his vantage point. She hurried across to see what had disturbed him so.

She had to lean forward almost to his shoulder to hear what the boy was repeatedly whispering. "This can't be here; it can't be happening again."

It was an almost circular room with a few steps around the edges and an ancient air shaft or fireplace chimney stood at the spot opposite their corridor. In the middle of the floor was a large full-length mirror; looking in and around it was a thin wizard wearing a brightly colored turban.

Whatever or whoever it was seemed to energize Harry potter. He pulled his wand and tried cancelling the magical barrier. When that didn't work he pounded on the wall and yelled out "Get away from there; it's not there."

But the wizard inside kept talking to himself totally ignoring or not hearing them. The magical barrier muffled but didn't cut off the sound of the wizard as he talked.

"Do you know who that is Potter?"

Harry Potter looked up at her with a mixture of disgust and anger. "Unfortunately yes. That is Professor Quirrell; he was a teacher here my first year."

Quirrell was a name Delores recognized from her talk with the ghosts earlier. He had vanished or supposedly died. "And what are you now?"

"Getting ready to start my Fifth Year. I hope."

Delores was about to question him about the last task of the Tri-Wizard tournament when something happened in the room to cause Quirrell to stop pacing and look a little sideways. Delores then saw Potter groan and slumped down to a kneeling position. "I can't believe I'm watching this."

A very small boy had entered the room from another corridor. Potter put a hand over his eyes and shook his head. Delores looked at the new boy and recognized a younger version of the person beside her. He looked so tiny and frail. Nothing like what she expected Harry Potter to be in his first year at Hogwarts.

There was a sense of shock on the face of the younger boy and Delores struggled to make sense of the conversation that was going on in the room. Delores finally nudged the kneeling Potter in front of her. "This seems to be familiar to you. What are they saying?"

The Harry Potter on this side of the magical barrier shook his head sadly and started talking but his eyes never left the confrontation in front of him. "Professor Quirrell is explaining to ….me that is was he rather than Professor Snape who had been making attempts on my life during the first year."

"What? That's not possible; no Hogwarts professor would…"

"He did; he let in a mountain troll that almost killed one of my best friends. He jinxed my broom during the Quidditch match against Slytherin."

"Why?"

At that moment Professor Quirrell snapped his fingers and the younger Harry was surrounded and bound by ropes that appeared in midair.

The older Harry punched the invisible wall in front of him in frustration. "Because he hates me and he suspected that I knew that he was after the Sorcerer's Stone."

"The Sorcerer's Stone? What's that? Why was it here at school?"

"It's a magical artifact that can help produce the Elixir of Life. Voldemort wants it to get his body back."

Delores flinched at the mention of the dreaded name. "That's impossible; You-Know-Who had been gone over a decade!"

"The impossible seems to happen a lot around me Miss Umbridge."

"That's Professor Umbridge to you Potter."

"Then we're missing the arguments going on inside the room Professor Umbridge. I suppose with my luck you're going to be the next DADA teacher."

Delores was going to reply but Potter held a finger up to his lips and pointed into the room. The discussion there was focused on the mirror and Quirrell was half-talking to himself and carrying on a conversation with the younger Potter.

"To answer your previous question," Harry said a little grumpily, "Dumbledore suspected that the Stone might be stolen by one of Voldemort's agents inside of Gringotts."

"That's also impossible."

"Which? That there are still agents of Voldemort's around or breaking into Gringotts? Because there was a break in reported a few days after the Stone was moved here to Hogwarts."

"This makes no sense. There have been no Death Eaters or followers of You-Know-Who for years."

"Yeah, right. Didn't you read the reports of what happened at the Quidditch World Cup?"

"That was troublemakers out to spread fear in the general public. A house elf was found carrying the wand that cast that horrible signal of the Dark Lord. The Minister assured…"

"The Minister is a pompous, headline-seeking idiot only concerned with his appearance and keeping his office."

Delores grew mad and was going to physically hit the boy but something inside the room happened and Potter straightened up. Delores saw that Quirrell had released the ropes and had dragged young Harry Potter over to the mirror again.

"What's so important about that mirror?"

"That's the Mirror of Erised. It shows you your heart's greatest desire. It where Dumbledore hid the stone."

"In the mirror?"

"Exactly."

There was a pause in the conversation between the teacher and the student and Delores faintly heard another voice. She looked around the room but only noticed that the Harry Potter beside her had started shuddering.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, you'll see. He's …I've got the stone by now. Watch Quirrell."

The former professor of DADA seemed to be having a conversation with the mysterious third voice that floated around the chamber. Quirrell reached up and slowly unwound the turban and dropped the wrappings on the ground as his feet. As he slowly turned around, there came a whimper from the boy besides Delores. She was about to question her Harry Potter ('Her Harry Potter? This was madness!') when Delores' mouthed dropped open in shock and she barely restrained herself from screaming. The back of Quirrell's head contained a monster – a glaring white flat face with red eyes and slits in the place where nostrils and a nose should have been! It was alive and very snakelike and the sight of it caused Delores' stomach to flop around and threaten to come back on her.

"What in the name of Merlin's beard is that hideous thing?" Delores finally got out.

"Pure evil. That's Voldemort - he's possessed Quirrell since his trip overseas."

Delores felt very light-headed and hoped she wouldn't faint from the shock. If what Potter said was true then everyone, including Minister Fudge, had been wrong.

"Keep watching; it's not over yet."

Delores leaned against the corridor wall to help hold her up as the … the.. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was yelling at the young Potter and Quirrell began walking backwards toward him. The Potter in the room tried to flee but Quirrell grabbed him by the wrist and immediately released him and Delores saw his (Quirrell's) hand begin to blister up and turn black. Quirrell knocked the young boy down and tried grabbing him again. The damage to his hands got worse and Delores heard a scream of pain come through the magical barrier. The Wizard finally remembered that he had a wand to draw on and tried to reach it but the young boy fought back with elbows hands, knees and fists. Potter finally clasped his hands on Quirrell's face and Delores saw the teacher's face begin to blacken and slough off.

"What's happening?" Delores gasped out, totally shocked by the scene.

"They can't stand my touch. It was a protection given to me by my mother's death."

Delores had no response to that as she watched Quirrell fall off Potter and try to escape. The younger Potter would have none of that and pursued the wizard. He reached Quirrell and hung on as the body of the former teacher crumbled up and began to disintegrate. There was a loud scream that came from the pile of blackening corpse and a mist of fine black particles rose from the pile as the Harry in the chamber seemingly collapsed in pain or exhaustion. The mist floated for a second or two and then seemed to gather itself together and rush out through the wall.

There was silence for a matter of thirty seconds and Delores waited for the nightmare to end. There came a new voice though the barrier and the Harry beside her finally stood and pointed to the doorway where his younger self had entered the room. It was a few seconds later that both of them saw Dumbledore enter the room, wand drawn and then looked down at the fallen first year. Just as the headmaster rushed over and knelt by the young boy, the lights went out.

Delores finally took a relaxing breath. 'This is over' she thought. 'I'll be back in my bed or have fallen off onto the floor again.'

A voice came out of mid-air; a woman's voice. "That twice my son has defeated the Dark Lord. Are you understanding what you have seen?"

There was a grinding sound that went through the floor and wall that Delores had been leaning on and it seemed the corridor rotated around and flipped over once or twice. Delores tried to hang on but was too shocked from watch that confrontation with evil that Potter declare was Lord… Could she be in Potter's head somehow? That would explain a lot of her confusion; if the so-called Boy-Who-Lived was broadcasting his madness, he would need to be confined to St. Mungo's or possibly Obliviated to within an inch of his life to control his delusions. But there was that final voice and a real feeling to this…event? Memory? What had she just seen? Witnessed! She started trembling as she tried evaluating it to see if was all real.

. . . .

. .

The light gradually came back again and Delores picked herself up from the floor. She heard a concerned inquiry from a now familiar voice and determined that she had not rid herselfof Harry Potter.

"Are you okay Madame…Professor Umbridge?"

"Just a little bruised and scuffed up from this dirty passageway."

"At least it's mostly dry at this end. I've already tried and the magical barrier still seems to be in place around the outlet. We can't go back the other way either."

"So who's there or maybe where are we?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Perhaps you should just watch and listen."

Delores felt like shaking the boy to force him to answer her questions but a sound of someone running made her approach the barrier as the light came up all the way for them to see the interior. To see another chamber; this one was much larger than the previous one and had a greenish hue to its appearance despite the numerous torches. There were rows and rows of columns heading up into the unseen roof overhead and Delores noticed that there were intricate carving of snakes on each one of the columns and along the walls.

At the end of the chamber was a giant statue of an ancient and monkeyish looking wizard. At the foot of the statue was a small heap of black robes and a boy kneeling next to it urging the person to wake up.

"Who's the girl?" Delores asked after Potter tried yelling through the barrier telling the young boy inside that 'she' wouldn't wake up.

"Her name is not important; she's just the latest victim of the Heir of Slytherin" Potter answered.

"It was three years ago that the Chamber of Secrets and the petrified students were the talk of the Wizengamot."

"I know. My best friend was petrified. That's me out there."

Delores shook her head. "As much as you like it Mr. Potter not everything revolves around you."

"Be quiet or you'll never hear what's going on."

Potter had move away to the other side of the corridor and Delores forced herself to look back into the chamber. A third person had joined the small girl and the person Potter swore was himself ('Again with the delusions' Delores thought.").

But Delores had trouble focusing on the appearance of the tall young wizard that stood over the pair. His edges were fuzzy and he seemed to waver a bit in the light. He was talking to the person who was another younger version of Harry Potter.

"I'm a memory that was preserved in a diary for fifty years."

"Did the Slytherins of your time ever mention a Chamber that belonged to Salazar Slytherin that was left with a monster to protect the school?"

"It was a legend – a student supposedly had been killed when Rubeus Hagrid loosed a monster in the school. An acromantula.

"Did nobody ask back then how an acromantula petrified a student or two or didn't eat or take the corpse of the girl? Did nobody check the body for bite marks?"

"You know it was a girl? Delores asked.

"I've met her; she… well, her ghost helped me find my way down her."

"But…"

"QUIET! This is important."

The conversation had carried on inside the chamber between Harry Potter (as he had stood and turned so Delores could see him better) and the slightly older person.

… been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes – how her brothers tease her, how she had come to school with secondhand robes and books, how… how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her…"

"What is he going on about? Writing in what?"

Potter pointed his wand at her. "Professor Umbridge please be quiet. I don't want to cast a silencing charm on you but I will."

"I'm an adult; you wouldn't dare!"

"This is supposedly your dream anyway didn't you say? Don't make me angry – you wouldn't like it if I got angry. The girl was writing in a diary; a very evil diary."

The older person who identified himself as Tom Riddle continued on with his talk. Delores found it easier to listen as he had become louder.

"So I made her write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But there isn't much life in her… She put too much into the diary, into me. Enough for me to leave its pages at last….. I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter."

"Like what?"

"Is that girl a half-blood like you Potter?"

"Shhhh! Maybe if I stun you we can all wake up. That girl is a pureblood by the way."

Delores grumbled but resolved to listen and see the fate of the poor girl.

"…how is it that you – a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent – managed to defeat the greatest wizard of ALL TIME? How did you escape with nothing more than a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

"Why do you care how I escaped? Voldemort was after your time…"

"Voldemort is my past, present and future Harry Potter…"

Delores watched this Tom Riddle person pull a wand from his pocket and began writing his name in the air: Tom Marvolo Riddle

With a quick flick of the wand, the letters began rearranging themselves into another set of words: I am Lord Voldemort

Delores felt her face drain and fear begin to overwhelm her. This was the Dark Lord! Tom Marvolo Riddle – not a Lord at all!

Looking over at the boy, Delores wondered if this could be real. That the boy had met a younger version of ….HIM. But she was confused by the appearance of the version of You-Know-Who on the back of Quirrell's head. More of Potter's lunacy? The truth as jumbled up as it might be?

"How did the girl and you survive without a wand?" The Potter in the corridor with her banged his head softly on the wall. "You had to go and ask that. I really wish you hadn't."

As if someone had been listening, the lights went out again and a few seconds passed before they came back on again. When she could see the Chamber clearly again, Delores shouted and turned to run away. She got five steps in before she remembered the barrier they had been hiding behind. The older Harry Potter was transfixed by what he was seeing.

There was this unbelievable huge snake chasing the young Harry Potter around the Chamber. The small wizard had somehow procured a long, shiny sword to defend himself with. There was a familiar bird flying around the chamber and trying to harass the snake and person that declared himself You-Know-Who.

Delores saw that the giant snake's eyes ("It's a basilisk Madame Umbridge.") had been ruined and the snake was lurching around and attempting to crush or strike at Potter by its other senses. Maybe hearing and smelling Delores guessed. The boy was slightly quicker than the… basilisk but had not inflicted any real damage with the sword on its scaly body.

There was another quick attack by the monster and Potter rolled away again but had managed to cut the snake's forked tongue with the blade. Instead of getting to his feet and running away again, the young Potter just got to a crouching position as if he wanted the basilisk to have a motionless target. Delores screamed out a warning as the snake struck again. But this time, there was a definite plan involved in the response by the battered and bruised boy.

As the snake opened his mouth to bite down on Potter, the rather impressive looking sword was thrust up through the roof of the mouth of the monster and exited thought the top of his head. There was a shrill scream from the snake as it thrashed in its death struggles and threw the young lad aside. The snake finally flopped over and became motionless. Delores glanced back to see if the young Harry Potter was going to get up but gasped as she saw a broken-off poisonous fang of the basilisk lodged in and through the arm of the young Boy-Who-Lived. Harry grabbed the fang and managed to wretch it out of his arm and drop it on the ground.

Delores breathed a sigh of relief but the Harry Potter in the corridor with her had turned his back on the scene. It was then that the third occupant of the chamber stepped up to his foe to gloat.

"Basilisk fangs are filled with deadly poison Harry. You're dead but you don't know it yet."

Dumbledore's phoenix flew back to Harry's side and leaned into the boys shoulder. Harry wobbled a bit as he smiled at the bird.

"You were fantastic Fawkes…"

"You're dead, Harry Potter. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying."

Even as far away as Delores was, she could see the thick, pearl-looking tears drop down the bird's beak on top the darkening and punctured arm of the younger boy. A she looked the wound above his elbow seemed to get smaller

"So ends the famous Harry Potter. Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear mudblood mother soon, Harry. Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must…"

Delores was scared. Scared that she was watching Who-Know-Who was about to let the young wizard and witch die. She looked over at the Harry Potter that had been her unwanted and uninvited guide for these two wild nightmares. He was strangely smiling. "What are you smiling about? You're dying in there!"

"Phoenix tears have healing powers that counteract almost every bit of poison and spell damage. Riddle is just remembering that now."

Riddle ran up and scared the phoenix away. It took flight with a blur of gold and scarlet. It disappeared into the far reaches of the chamber as Riddle continued to gloat over the fallen boy wizard.

With a flutter of wings, Dumbledore's phoenix came back out of the darkness and dropped something on the floor in front of the suddenly not so pale young Harry. It was the supposed diary that had caused all the problems and led to Tom Riddle being reincarnated.

Both Riddle and Harry stared at it for a second but before Riddle could cast a spell or yell at the boy, he had picked up the discarded basilisk fang and stabbed the book cover.

Delores watched the young man that had declared himself Lord… scream in pain and shock and began to twist away from the diary. Harry stabbed it twice more and then Delores watched the Riddle boy explode into fragments and disappear.

Just as the girl raised up and looked around, the darkness began falling again. Before she could see who the girl was, the blackness was complete and Delores heard her companion grunt and turn away. "I hope, for Merlin's sake that that was the last history lesson you and I have to witness. It was hard enough going through it once." There was the sound of a few footsteps fading down the corridor and then complete silence was the only sound in Delores ears. There came another whirling as if Delores was caught up in a portkey and she closed her eyes and hoped she was going to appear in her own bedroom.

A new voice came out of the darkness. "Did you see that? My son whipped a thousand-year old basilisk WITHOUT a wand! He's a powerful wizard in his own right. His mother and I are very proud of him and love him so much."

Delores heart lurched. The …Potter's parents were… dead. Killed by the Dark Lord before that boy had received his scar. Was it possible the Potters were alive? Were they ghosts watching over him? Was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named really out there? The world didn't seem as secure and safe now as when she started having these dreams. Delores didn't know what to do; maybe… maybe Potter was the new Dark Lord and he had cursed her? Delores was scared and confused. She hoped she woke up soon.

. . . .

. .

.

And then the dream got worse. She hadn't gone home.

Delores was transported somewhere else and landed hard on her hands and knees. She expected her companion to come pick her up but no such assistance was forthcoming. She climbed carefully to her feet and looked around. It was a moonlit night and Delores saw that there was enough light coming from the approaching dawn to make out where she was.

A graveyard! The place Potter had sworn the battle with You-know-Who had taken place – a place where HE had been resurrected!

"Potter? Potter - show yourself. I don't want to see this."

There was no answer to her plea. But there was a reaction. Delores looked on as there was the sound of an apparition (or something similar) and two boys appeared before her.

"Get over here!"

The two boys didn't seem to hear her. They pulled their wands and looked around. A slow shuffling sound came out of the darkness beside her and Delores tried to move. Her feet refused to budge even though she struggled mightily. A person totally covered in robes walked right by her without noticing her at all. He or she was carrying a small bundle in his or her arms and had their wand out in one hand.

As the mystery figure got closer to the two boys, a thin nasty voice came out of nowhere. "Kill the spare!"

There was no hesitation as the wand lifted and Delores watched as one of the Unforgiveable curses was cast. "Avada Kedavra!"

The green light hit the taller of the two boys and he slumped to the ground totally motionless. Potter seemed to be in shock as he viewed the dead boy. 'That had to be Amos Diggory's boy that had been killed' Delores thought.

Potter was stunned by the unknown man and then dragged to a tall marble headstone where he was levitated up and then bound in chains.

Delores could only watch on with horror as events unfolded and she could neither move nor make a sound as she became a silent witness to unspeakable events.

After making sure Potter was securely bound the man disappeared for a minute and then came back pushing a huge cauldron until it rested just in front of the headstone. It took but a moment to create a fire under the cauldron and steam rose from the contents as it began heating up.

Delores opened her mouth in a silent scream as a giant snake slithered out of the darkness, circled the headstone and then disappeared into the darkness again.

"Hurry!"

It was finally easy to identify the source of the voice as the bundle that had been placed on the ground. The unknown wizard picked up the bundle carefully and unwrapped the contents.

Delores only held on to her sanity and her consciousness by biting the inside of her cheek. Inside the bundle was a gross hideous parody of a human baby. It was blackish red, feeble looking with deformed limbs and it had a flattish face with red eyes and slits for nostrils!

Remembering the events of the first part of this evening, Delores saw the face of … of You-Know-Who. Cruel and lizard-like, the Dark Lord was weak and helpless in the arms of his flunky. But then the 'thing' was lowered into the cauldron and a dark ritual was then begun.

Chanting for a number of different things, the remains of a bone of his ancestors rose from the grave Potter was hung on and fell into the cauldron. The servant then pulled a knife from his belt and, to Delores' further horror, cut his own hand off and dropped it into the cauldron. There came a bright red glow from the interior of the pot and sparkles of magic began coming out of it. Finally the man turned to go to Potter with the knife held out in front of him like a wand. He was losing blood rapidly from his self-mutilation and Delores started hoping that he would fall over and die.

Potter struggle and squirmed trying to get out of the bindings that held him but he was unsuccessful. The wizard cut his arm and collected the blood that flowed there and dropped that into the cauldron.

The memory of what happened next would haunted Delores Umbridge for the rest of her life. With the addition of Potter's blood, the sparks from the cauldron stopped and a great cloud of steam erupted out of it. When the cloud had dispersed a little bit a tall, incredibly thin outline of a man rose out of the interior of the cauldron and stepped out from the mist.

It was the face Delores had seen before. Too many times. And she could not believe that she was seeing the ghostly white face, scarlet eyes and flat snake-like nose and nostrils of … Delores couldn't even think of the name that Harry Potter had so easily said during the previous encounters. It was HIM! And he was definitely alive!

Delores was in shock for a few minutes and only came aware of her surroundings when the sound of people Apparating came close to her. She looked on in shock as a number of wizards cloaked in dark robes and white masks appeared in the cemetery. Every one of them knelt and kissed the hem of the black robes that the Dark Lord wore. There was no doubt in Delores mind that she beheld no hooligans or troublemakers but HIS very close followers – the Death Eaters!

It was with some shock that Delores heard the names of some of the richest and most influential members of magical England coming from the cruel mouth that belonged to You-know-Who. Avery, Nott, Goyle, Macnair (a Ministry employee), Crabbe and others were all part of this. And they had been 'contributing' to Minister Fudge and advising him for many years. It was unthinkable.

But it was the Death Eater that was addressed by his first name that made Delores glad she couldn't be heard. She could not rein in her cry of disbelief when she learned that it was Lucius Malfoy who seemed to be You-Know-Who's most trusted advisor.

There were shocks enough to reduce one to hysterics but Delores could not will herself to either wake from this nightmare or to become totally unconscious.

Lord…Lord… Lord V… spoke at length to his followers about how he came to this place and time after his initial defeat all those years ago and his subsequent defeat of himself and Quirrell during Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts.

HE also detail his elaborate plan to kidnap Harry Potter through the guise of tricking him into participating in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. A special spy in Hogwarts itself was the agent that arranged his entry into the competition and turned the cup into a portkey that brought Harry Potter to this very spot to participate in the resurrection ritual.

It was with some mixed feelings that Delores heard that the first step in … He-Who-Must Not-be-Named plans for conquering the world was dueling and killing Harry Potter. The weak and 'Crucio'ed Boy-Who-Lived was unceremoniously cut down and his wand was shoved into his hand.

V…Vol.. Voldemort mocked the boy and the Death Eater laughed as Harry Potter was made to bend over in the ritual bow to start the duel. Then the Dark Lord cast the Crucio again and again and reduced Potter to a small mound of moaning pain. Somehow Potter staggered to his feet and surprisingly avoided the next Crucio that was aimed at him. After ducking behind another headstone to catch a breath, Potter came back out firing a spell of his own.

The two spells met in the space between them and fought for dominance. The green of the Avada Kedavra and the red of Potter's 'Expelliarmus' met with a crackle of energy and turned both spells gold. That gold beam of magical energy linked the two wands and split to develop into a golden cage that surrounded, confined and isolated the two duelists. He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named shouted out for his followers not to interfere as HE and Potter fought to control their spells.

If it were not so terrifying, the battle fought with the wands would have been wondrous to behold. The golden beam seemed to form little nodes of force that flowed toward one wand or another. It seemed impossible but Potter somehow found the courage, will or power to force those pulses of power toward the wand of the Dark Lord. As the light pulses retreated into V…Vol… Voldemort's wand, it began shaking and turning; the wand itself seemed to scream out in pain as magic was forced back into it.

A grey shape came out of the Dark Lord's wand and seemed to shift into the ghost of the just killed Diggory boy. You-Know-Who's eyes were wide with surprise as the ghost floated over and encourage the Potter boy to hold fast. Other shapes led to subsequent ghosts, one of which seemed to a lady Delores had seen around the Ministry before she had mysteriously disappeared. Two other ghosts finally issued from the wand and came to hover over the young wizard. Delores saw that one looked a lot like the boy but older and realized the couple must be the long murdered James and Lily Potter, his parents.

They spoke to their son and he nodded at whatever words they said. It was a few seconds later that Harry Potter wrenched his wand upward and disconnected the connecting golden beam. As the bright light faded away, the ghost victims of the Dark Lord rushed and surrounded him, obscuring his vision momentarily and confusing him. Potter ducked and dodged the spells the Death Eaters cast at him and made his way to the body of his schoolmate. Covering the body with his own, Potter summoned the Triwizard Cup and vanished away from the graveyard.

Delores felt a small thrill of triumph as she witnessed Potter escape back to the grounds of Hogwarts. There were screams of anger and pain as You-Know-Who cursed both Harry Potter and his followers for allowing Potter to escape.

The ghosts that had come back to life floated around the graveyard for a bit before fading away. Soon there were only two left; the Potters. They moved slowly to right in front of Delores and stared at her for a long time.

"You've been granted a chance to see the truth. Riddle is back and will continue his mission to kill anyone in his way! We cannot help you but we will be waiting for you on the other side. Others than us will judge your position in the afterlife but we still watch over our son."

The two Potters held each other around the waist and slowly disappeared. The Dark Lord and his followers also apparated away. As the sun finally appeared over the horizon, Delores' vision grew dark and the graveyard disappeared from her sight.

Z Z Z Z

Z Z

Z

Delores woke up abruptly in her bed and her lungs finally found the air to scream as she sat up abruptly. Her house elf appeared instantly but Delores sent her away. Delores reached for the reassurance of her wand and cast the time-telling spell.

It was all of 1 o'clock in the morning and the Draught of Living Death had only granted her a few hours of what she might consider sleep. But the visions or nightmares seemed to replay continuously in her head and her cozy bedroom did not seem so safe or secure any more.

It was with some despair that Delores realized it was now September 1st and the sorting feast would be happening in only a few hours. Delores didn't know what to make of what she had seen/witnessed/dreamed about.

There were matters of the utmost importance to decide. What to do about Potter? What, if anything, to tell the Minister? What to believe? How to cope with the strange realities she had experienced?

Delores had no confidant to tell any of this too. She resulted to sitting up, hugging her pillow and began rocking forward and back. And wondering if she had a bit of sanity left.