FOREWORD

It might surprise some of you to know, but I have not watched any of the Alien films in their entirety, save for the recent prequel Prometheus. Then again, that had more science-fiction than horror, plus Noomi Rapace in a somewhat figure-hugging spacesuit. I've seen bits of the original Alien, and it has many of my favourite actors in it: Sigourney Weaver, Ian Holm, Yaphet Kotto, and let us not forget John Hurt, whose demise from the Chestburster has gone down in pop-culture history. Hell, he even did it again for Spaceballs. Anyway, one of these days, I should watch the original.

I think part of the problem is that I've seen the film done before. My username comes from the 50s TV serial The Quatermass Experiment, which in some ways has many elements of Alien, as does the Doctor Who story The Ark in Space, which predated Alien by at least a couple of years. You know, all three have the central tenet of a hapless astronaut getting a face full of alien wing-wong, as VG Cats put it.

In any case, earlier, I posted a Halloween oneshot with the premise that Shinji Matou, rapist and all-round psychopathic douchebag of the Nasuverse, gets infested with an Illithid tadpole from the Dungeons and Dragons franchise (with the oneshot being a crossover with Baldur's Gate 3). I like inflicting nasty demises on the worst fictional characters, and I thought, why not give Dolores Umbridge a go? And why not have her given a date with a Facehugger? Most Potterverse crossovers with the Alien franchise either have Harry undergo metamorphosis into a Xenomorph, or be trained as a Predator. This, I hope, is a breath of fresh air.

Anyway, time for the usual disclaimers. First, there will be spoilers, as well as Xenomorph horror, quite a bit of gore, and, worst of all, an insight into the mind of Dolores Umbridge. I mean, that last one needs a content warning all of its own.

Secondly, there will be annotations. You have been warned.

Finally, the following is a fan-based work. Alien and Harry Potter are the properties of their respective owners. Please support the official release. Otherwise, well, you'll be left tied up in front of a Xenomorph egg, with a Facehugger ready to pounce on you...

KARMA FOR A TOAD, FOOD FOR A XENOMORPH

Consciousness returned to her slowly, and for a time, she wished it hadn't. She had a headache, her throat and mouth were sore (and the latter felt like something had died in it), and parts of her face felt like they had been pinched. And her memory was a touch spotty.

For a brief moment, she wondered if she had somehow gotten involved in some party or other. Then, she decided she couldn't have been. This wasn't a hangover, she may not have drunken herself into such a state for decades, but she knew what one felt like. The nausea wasn't anywhere near as bad, and she wasn't sensitive to light or sound.

Besides, she hadn't seen an office party within the Ministry of Magic for years. Indeed, she had used her authority to ban them. She had cited the lack of productivity and efficiency, stating that they could be done at their homes…when they had time to go off the clock, anyway.

In truth, Dolores Umbridge did so because she derived her happiness from destroying that of others'. It was the purest and greatest form of happiness, she felt, basing such a thing on decades of experience, first on the receiving end, and then on the giving end. True, she also got satisfaction from making sure the Ministry of Magic worked efficiently, but in the end, Umbridge was a sadistic and xenophobic bitch who didn't join the Death Eaters years ago only because she was opportunistic and pragmatic enough to avoid doing so until she was sure they were the winning side. Oh, she agreed with their tenets, despite being a Halfblood herself (not that she'd ever admit it, least of all to herself), but she needed to stay within the bounds of what was acceptable within the Ministry. Which was surprisingly quite a lot, but Dolores Umbridge did not become the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic without knowing how to gauge what she could get away with.

Unfortunately, this past year was when it started to go wrong. Not that Umbridge thought so at first. The Potter brat and that old fool Dumbledore were easy to have a smear campaign set up against them both after the mess of Diggory's death. The Dementor attack failed, and so too did the trial she had set up as a contingency. Thankfully, Cornelius had ensured she became the DADA instructor at Hogwarts, where she could sabotage Dumbledore's ambitions. And if the Dark Lord had truly come back, and took over, then Umbridge could point to her sabotaging those brats' education as a point in her favour, as only the Purebloods (and the right sort, for that matter) would be able to be trained by their parents in what was important.

And then, it had gone to shit, thanks to those brats. Potter, Granger…thanks to their deceit, Umbridge had been attacked by those damned Centaurs! Those damned things had humiliated her, forcing her to be the prey that they hunted, for the sheer sport of it. It took the Aurors coming to save her for them to relent. And Umbridge felt they took too damned long for her liking.

Umbridge was humiliated and wounded. But wounded and cornered animals are often the most dangerous. Cornelius was on the way out now, thanks to the Dark Lord showing himself in the atrium of the Ministry. But Umbridge was a survivor. She had enough dirty on so many Ministry employees, she could stay in power.

But that was not enough for her. Prior to the Dark Lord showing himself, apparently Potter, his fellow brats, and Dumbledore's vigilante group had gotten involved in a battle with the Purebloods in the Department of Mysteries. Umbridge wanted to know why, but was stonewalled from every angle. Such insolence shown to her. She intended to slash the budget of the Unspeakables to a mere sliver of what it once was, but first, she needed to find justification. True, she could make some up, but it was better to have more proof than her word.

She'd snuck into the Department of Mysteries, finding it oddly underpopulated. Then, after much searching, she found a certain room, with a number of strange eggs within it, under a stasis charm. She wasn't sure what creature they had, but despite the weird wrinkles on top, she would bet they were some sort of dragon egg. They were certainly illegal, she reckoned. And that was the last thing she remembered, removing the stasis charm on one of the eggs.

She looked around the room. It was sparse, like a Ministry holding cell, only more comfortable. A mirror occupied most of one wall. Her eyes were drawn to something on the floor, and she recoiled with horror.

The thing lying on the floor was dead, she hoped. It looked vaguely like an oversized hand, but with a long tail that looked vicious. From its underside protruded some sort of tube. It was absolutely hideous, and she wanted to kill it with fire. Preferably Fiendfyre.

And then, she heard a familiar voice speak through those Muggle speakers in the corners of the ceiling. "Ah, good morning, Dolores. Well, whether it is a good morning or not depends on where you're standing. I think it'll be a particularly bad morning for you."

Umbridge tried to muster up what passed for civility in her, and failed miserably. Instead, like the toads she resembled, she puffed up and glared around her. "Croaker, you insolent little nobody! How dare you treat the Senior Undersecretary for the Minister in such a manner!"

"I'm afraid you're not the Senior Undersecretary anymore, Dolores," Croaker said smugly. "Young Percy Weasley is now. Too pedantic, but he'll keep things running in the Ministry. He's capable enough. And while he makes you want to hit him over the head for his pedantry and officiousness, he's far better than his late predecessor by leaps and bounds."

Umbridge blinked when she processed what Croaker had said. Late predecessor? "Hem, hem…if this is your idea of a joke, Croaker, then it is in extremely poor taste indeed, worse than those ghastly twin brothers of Weasley's. I am very much alive. And if that was a threat, then it is one you will regret. How badly you regret it depend on how swiftly you release me!"

"It wasn't a joke or a threat, Dolores," Croaker said. "I warned you against poking your nose where it didn't belong. We're still cleaning up after that fiasco, with Rookwood having ensured our defences were down when we were off work. Then again, I knew you would try this sooner rather than later. That's why I had you redirected to that room."

"…You…had me sent there?" Umbridge snarled incredulously, her righteous indignation (well, self-righteous, anyway) and anger welling up within her.

"Yes," came another familiar and hated voice, lacking its usual airy nature. Xenophilus Lovegood, the editor and publisher of that tabloid conspiracy theory rag The Quibbler. "The eggs were my discovery, Dolores. My wife and I found them in ruins on an island about a thousand miles off the coast of Antarctica. Her death was called a spellcrafting accident…but in truth, one of the eggs hatched. The creature you see, what my lovely little radish calls a 'Facehugger', emerged and, well, you can guess what happened from the name."

"It's rather fascinating, in a macabre way," Croaker continued. "The Facehugger implants an embryo within the victim's body, which gestates, until it emerges in spectacular fashion. In other words, it is a parasitoid species, not unlike certain wasps. I fed you a nutrient potion while you slept."

Umbridge felt not only more indignation and anger, but also fear. And were those stirrings she felt in her chest? Of pain, of nausea? "No…no, you can't do this to me! I am the Senior Undersecretary! I demand you take me to St Mungo's and get this thing out of me!"

"St Mungo's can deal with many ailments, but not this one," Xenophilus said. "Besides…you hurt my little girl. You used a Blood Quill on her when she spoke up for Harry Potter."

"…So? Your girl should learn to keep her mouth shut!"

"As should you," Croaker said coldly. "Goodbye, Dolores. It hasn't been pleasant."

Umbridge opened her mouth to rebuke him, to demand that he let her free, to beg for mercy…only for the first truly sharp pain to burst through her chest. She screamed in agony, feeling something move, thrash, push through, no, chew through her very body. Blood flooded out, staining her favourite pink cardigan, which proved to be more of an obstacle to the thing eating her from the inside out than her ribcage. If Umbridge was capable of anything like coherent thought by that point, she would have taken some perverse comfort in that.

But she didn't. She wouldn't. Instead, as her vision darkened, the last thing she saw was a hideous phallic thing with teeth bursting its way out of her torso. It seemed to look at her with an eyeless face, before it opened its toothy mouth, and shrieked.

"SKREEEEEEEE!"

That hideous, hellish noise was the last thing Umbridge heard or even experienced, before oblivion took her…

"Do you think Fudge will buy the story?" Xenophilus Lovegood asked as the bloody creature skittered around the room, screeching. They'd learned from last time, so the room was almost completely sealed, with no ventilation ducts, air being refreshed with special charms. The room was also warded against acid, just in case it started bleeding. Even the mirror they were watching through was capable of withstanding a bomb blast.

"His successor will. Fudge is on the way out. We warned Umbridge. And after what she tried to do to those kids…well, this is overdue karma for her. Is Luna all right after what Umbridge did?"

"Yes. She saw this happen before, with her mother, though. I'm not sure whether seeing this would traumatise her…or whether she would call this creature 'Peanut Wigglebutt(1)'."

"Well…best put it down before it wreaks any havoc," Croaker said. "I'm sure Voldemort or other idiots would want to use these things as weapons and the like. But that's insane."

"True. The sad thing is, that creature is ridiculously lethal and deadly, not to mention ugly. Yet it's more honest than Umbridge was."

Croaker nodded. Too true. He readied himself to activate the runes that would kill the creature quickly. As fascinating as they were, it was safer to experiment on a dead specimen, not a live one. And as for Umbridge? Her body would be dissected, before being burned and the ashes scattered.

Dark work, even evil, one might say. But Umbridge had brought her fate on herself. Croaker had just helped karma along a little…

THE END

ANNOTATIONS:

Well, damn. Who's scarier, a Xenomorph Chestburster, or an Unspeakable and a protective father with axes to grind?

Luna, AFAIK, didn't get the Blood Quill treatment in Book 5. But I decided that, to tie things in with how karmic this was, that she did.

And yes, I know that the Xenomorphs were created thanks to the events of Prometheus and Alien: Covenant. Think of it as either some time-travel involved, or this being an AU to those films at least. I mean, I gave a little nod to Alien vs Predator in mentioning an island off the coast of Antarctica.

1. This is my nod to Fahad09's Nasuverse crossover with High School DxD, A Demon Lord's Hero. Asia, thanks to butterflies, is somewhat different to her canon self (to say the least), and names a monstrous hydra familiar she gets, to Shirou's horror, 'Miss Peanut Wigglebutt'.