A/N: Hello, all! More Umbridge torture, yay! Thanks for the reviews I've had so far, now here's the next chapter! (Disclaimer is in chapter 1.)
Dolores Umbridge was having a good day. She had woken up, and greeted all one hundred and thirteen of her personal collection of kitten plates personally, before managing to have a shower, before pulling on a brand new robe, with a badge that said 'Headmistress' pinned to the front. It was September 2nd, and despite the...rather potent flatulence based prank pulled on her at the introductory speech last night, she was sure that with very little effort, Hogwarts would soon be dancing to her tune. And once that was done, and she was seen as the woman who revolutionized magical education in Britain? Well, then she would start putting herself into position to eventually take over from Cornelius. Really, the man was lovely, but she was not one to be satisfied with second best in anything.
Exiting her office, she noticed that the hallway had been buffed to such a shine that she could see her own face in it - and what a beautiful face it was, she thought to herself, smiling back at her reflection, before carrying on, not noticing how the stone cracked, or the slight, incredibly faint, wail of horror that the stone emitted. Entering the Great Hall, she smiled out at all the students gathered before her.
"AHH! MY EYES! I'M BLIND!"
"Mr Jordan! Detention! For deliberately poking fun at a member of Hogwarts staff."
Her feathers well and truly ruffled, Dolores decided that it was just a one-off incident, and was determined to enjoy her day. Continuing towards the staff table, she heard one of the new first years asking a question of one of the older students.
"Excuse me, Mr Weasley, but why is the cutlery shaking and bouncing?"
"Well, kiddo, it's because every time Dolores Umbridge takes a step, an earthquake starts nearby."
"Mr Weasley! Detention for you, too!"
"Yes! Pay up, George!"
"Damn it..."
By now, Dolores was wondering whether or not she should just have breakfast in her office. But she was stubborn - and not very intelligent - and so she continued on her way. Finally reaching the staff table, she sat down in the large golden throne reserved for the current Headmaster/Headmistress, and -
"PPPPRRRRBBBBBTTTTT!"
Dolores' face went crimson as every eye in the hall turned to her, and she could even see some of the muggleborn students - uncultured little ruffians and hoodlums, the lot of them - holding their noses and waving their hands in front of their faces. Professor Flitwick - half breed scum, he'd be one of the first to go - leaned over to her.
"Perhaps you should lay off the beans today, Dolores? Just a suggestion."
Ooh, she had never been so humiliated in all her life! And she knew, just knew, that the bloody Potter brat was responsible somehow. Still, she had the brat in her class today. She'd put him in detention for something, and then, well, she'd brought her grandfather's 'special' quill with her. A few thousand lines with that should soon sort the boy out! Pulling the whoopee cushion out from under her seat, she Vanished the offending object, making a mental note to ban them as soon as possible. And if they were already banned, she would find whoever was responsible - preferably Potter - and see to it he was expelled.
She had made it through to this point without any more pranks being played on her, and now was the class she was looking forward to the most. Fifth year, Gryffindor/Slytherin. Potter's class. She resisted the urge to rub her hands together and cackle with glee. After all, her cousins had done that all the time, and look where it got them. One crushed under a house, and the other melted by some Muggle bint from Kansas with a pail of water. Though how that happened, she really didn't know.
The class filed in, taking their seats and taking out books, parchment, quill, ink and their wands. "Wands away, children. This will be a purely theoretical course."
Granger, Potter's mudblood friend, spoke up. "But how is theory supposed to prepare us for what's out there?"
"My dear girl, there is no one out there. Who can you imagine would possibly want to hurt you?"
Potter spoke up. Dolores felt like crowing - she had the snot-nosed little bastard now! Then she heard what he was saying, and her face scrunched up in confusion. "Well, for one thing, random magical creatures. What if a Lethifold were to attack, and we didn't know how to defend ourselves? It would be your fault we were dead. And what about that new Dark wizard who has been gaining power in Ireland, and is attacking small villages using Inferi? Of course, there's also the possibility that one of our neighbouring countries will declare war on us, in which case we might be drafted to the army. Would you really want to be subjugated by another nation, simply because you didn't teach us how to properly defend ourselves? I hear New Zealand's Ministry of Magic has been quite eager to get a foothold in Britain for some time."
Dolores paled rapidly. What had she done? She hadn't even considered that possibility when she had suggested sabotaging the student's DADA class to Cornelius. And it was true, the ambassador from New Zealand had been buying quite a lot of land in Britain. What if they did invade? She had to warn Cornelius, and quickly, before those filthy New Zealanders invaded her country.
"Class dismissed! Read chapters one to five for our next lesson!"
She rushed off into her office, flooing to the Ministry and rushing to Cornelius' office as quickly as she could.
Dolores Umbridge was having a bad day. First, the jokes told about her weight and appearance at breakfast. Then, the whoopee cushion on her chair. Next, that insufferable little brat, Potter, had caused her to look like a fool in front of Cornelius when she had barged into his office, yelling at him about the New Zealanders invading Britain, only to realize moments later that the ambassador from the New Zealand Ministry was sitting in a meeting with Cornelius, discussing the plans for a magical holiday park in Britain - the very same reason he had been buying so much land. Both Cornelius and the ambassador had laughed till they cried when she explained why she was there, before telling her not to believe everything she heard from fifteen year olds.
She had finally made it back to the school, just in time for dinner, and she sat down - fortunately no whoopee cushions went off this time - to eat her food, only to see...well, it was disgusting. Everywhere she looked, the food was rotted and slimy, and it smelled as though it had been left in the sun for a month. Even the pumpkin juice and tea had fuzzy green stuff floating in it. Looking down the table, she saw Minerva spooning something purple and spiny into her mouth, and Trelawney was eagerly eating what looked to have once been spaghetti bolognese. Now, though, it resembled a shag pile rug with olive paint splashed on it. Looking back at the students, she noticed that they, too, were eating the disgutingly rotted food. Looking at the dishes in front of her, she saw something moving and alive, and that was the final straw.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Silence fell in the Great Hall, as every pair of eyes turned to stare at their Headmistress. One pair of eyes looked slightly smugger than usual, but no one noticed. The woman stood up and fled from the hall, screaming about mouldy food and the sick freaks of nature who were eating it. Cheers and laughter followed her down the hallway, as she fled in terror, halfway to a nervous breakdown on her first day as Headmistress. No bloody wonder Dumbledore was so insane, if he'd been doing this job for fifty years!
Slamming the door to her office shut behind her, she hit it with every locking spell known to man, and some known to vaguely intelligent species of chimpanzee, before turning to look at her kitten plates, hoping to calm herself down.
It didn't work.
Every single plate had been stolen, replaced with a rectangular piece of cardboard with a picture of a cloud bursting open on them. On her desk sat the ugliest statue she had ever seen - a bulldog, with cream fur covered in occasional tan patches here and there, and a hideously tacky black collar. Dolores' scream could be heard from Hogsmeade, and many of the villages looked towards the Shrieking Shack in fear.
Two floors away, two redheads and a black-haired boy were sniggering to themselves as they heard the screams from Umbridge's office.
"Nice one, Harry. You think she'll figure it out?"
"Fred, George, that would require intelligence. Not something she has, or ever will have, yeah?"
"True, true. Well, you truly are worthy of entering into the hallowed ranks of the Marauders, young Harry."
"Then I shall solemnly swear never to be up to good of any kind, Messrs Trick and Treat."
"Welcome, brother Marauder."
"Now, first things first, let's get pissed out of our minds, and then tomorrow, we wage prank war on our new Headmistress. What say you, brothers?"
"Aye!" "Aye!"
"Then let's drink!"
In the afterlife, James Potter laughed himself to tears, while Lily pursed her lips, desperately trying not to smile, no matter how much she wanted to. Finally, she gave up the battle as a lost cause, and allowed herself to sit with her schoolfriends and giggle at her son's antics.
A/N: Chapter two is done, and I think it's better than chapter one. But what do you think? Did it make you smile? Laugh? Leave a review, and let me know! Thanks for reading!
Prompts/ideas used:
Students make jokes about Umbridge's appearance/weight.
Someone places a whoopee cushion on Umbridge's seat.
Harry tricks Umbridge into making a fool of herself in front of the Minister for Magic.
A spell makes all the food and drink appear mouldy to Umbridge.
Someone steals Umbridge's kitten plates.
Fred/George/Harry form a new group of Marauders.