Daphne watched as Dolores Umbridge entered her office, escorted by guards. The older woman's mood could only be described as blissful, a result of finally getting her hands on Hermione Granger. Dolores smiled broadly when she noticed the head of House Greengrass, the woman who had facilitated her long-coveted revenge, sitting behind the desk. Daphne smiled back, returning the gesture with practiced insincerity.

And it was very much insincere.

On one hand, Umbridge was her vassal. Despite a few blunders and questionable decisions, she was competent enough to be considered a useful asset to House Greengrass. As a result, her family had generously supported the woman's career over the years, allowing Umbridge to reach the second most powerful position at the Ministry. Having someone so highly placed be completely indebted to you was an incredible boon and Daphne knew it was a good strategic decision to cultivate a good relationship with Dolores Umbridge.

But the nasty woman had also tortured Harry Potter, her beloved boyfriend, and the girlfriend in Daphne wanted to utterly destroy her for that. Umbridge continued to grin happily in her direction, blissfully unaware of the incredibly thin ice she was on right now. Daphne could forgive Umbridge's disastrous stint at Hogwarts that affected her fifth year, or her mishandling of the mudblood registrations that unjustly landed many in prison. But she could not forgive her for torturing Harry. Thinking of her boyfriend suffering for hours while the blood quill cut into his hand made Daphne hate Umbridge more than she hated Granger, and that was saying something. Especially as the useless mudblood had, for once, applied her mighty brain to something other than subversive activities and had provided Harry with essence of Murtlap, greatly relieving his suffering.

Daphne did her best to settle her turbulent emotions as Dolores walked over and sat down on the opposite side of the table. "Thank you for joining me," Daphne said, reinforcing the impression Umbridge's presence in her office was a matter of choice. In reality, had Dolores refused to come, the guards would have dragged her inside by force. Her fate was sealed the moment she stepped inside Greengrass manor.

"My pleasure," Umbridge replied in her signature girlish voice, taking a moment to relax in the comfortable chair. A moment later, she started boasting about what she had done to Granger today and what she planned to do in her next visits, looking like a child who had just opened her best birthday present ever.

'Ah, how little some people need to be happy,' Daphne thought with amusement as she listened to the extremely cruel horrors Dolores hoped to inflict on Granger, exceeding even Daphne's darkest imagination. But then again, Daphne never saw much point in torturing someone just for the sake of torture, especially mudbloods like Granger. It could be argued the girl earned it, but in Daphne's opinion a quick execution was a way to go in such cases. Anything else was just a frivolous waste of her valuable time.

Of course, what Dolores Umbridge failed to realize was that there weren't going to be any more visits and that Daphne had only let her have Granger to lure her into the manor. The second, equally important effect was putting the older woman into an agreeable, grateful and receptive mood for their discussion. And so, for a while, Daphne indulged her, patiently listening to Dolores' sadistic ramblings. But eventually, enough was enough.

"There's something else I need to discuss with you. A serious issue," Daphne spoke firmly. At first, it looked like she failed to capture the woman's attention as Dolores still went on about Granger. Not accustomed to repeating herself, Daphne decided to emulate Umbridge's cough that the woman had repeatedly used to disrupt classes at Hogwarts. She must have done a decent job of her imitation as Dolores looked confused for a moment, clearly not used to hearing the annoying sound coming out of someone else's mouth.

Then Umbridge's brain finally caught up with what Daphne had just said. "What issue is that, my lady?" she asked politely when she noticed Daphne's stony and very serious expression.

Now that she had her undivided attention, Daphne pushed over a notebook, or rather a small book. "Any verbal explanation wouldn't do it justice," she told her as her eyes flicked down. "You need to read this."

Dolores picked up the book with an intensely curious expression. It rapidly turned to confusion when she noticed what it was. "Your father's journal?!" she exclaimed, and when Daphne nodded in confirmation, she looked abashed. "My lady, I don't feel like I should be reading this…" she started.

"You have my permission to read it," Daphne snapped impatiently. "The relevant parts are bookmarked. Just read them… now."

Pausing only for a second more, Dolores Umbridge finally capitulated to her demand. She opened the book and started to read. The series of expressions crossing the woman's face were roughly what Daphne was expecting – shock, disbelief, and finally despair.

"T- this can't possibly be true!" she gasped.

Daphne frowned. "This is my father's blood-signed journal," she reminded Dolores. "Are you saying it's lies?!" she asked coldly.

"No… no, of course not!" Dolores immediately backtracked after her faux pas, stuttering apologies. "But that would mean – "

Daphne nodded seriously. "It means the Minister for Magic of Great Britain and Ireland is under the Imperius curse, placed on him on the dark lord's orders," Daphne summarized the current and utterly disastrous state of their government.

The journal slipped from Dolores' shaking hands, landing quietly on the desk. "And he-who-must-not-be-named is really back? It's not just one of Dumbledore's lies?" she finally managed to ask.

Daphne blinked, having trouble deciding whether she was serious with that question or having the audacity to be making fun of her. Was there anyone left who still doubted Voldemort's return at this point? But then again, if there was one it would probably be Dolores Umbridge. The Ministry's current official position was to deny all knowledge of the Dark Lord while prosecuting those who asked too many questions. It was entirely conceivable that Dolores, having absolutely no social life outside the Ministry, would form her opinions based solely on its doctrines. If those doctrines said the dark lord didn't exist, then to Dolores Umbridge, he wouldn't exist even if he was standing in front of her. It wasn't a naivety on her part, but rather an extremely limited scope of vision that had led her to ruin as headmistress of Hogwarts.

And to be honest, Lord Voldemort's mode of operation made it easy to deny his existence. Despite his insanity and egomaniacal complex, the dark lord was content with remaining in the shadows. He wasn't a media whore; his presence inferred rather than observed. So yes, Daphne could conceive of people so predisposed to pathological denial that they might conclude the dark lord wasn't really back, even today.

"I'm afraid so," Daphne answered, pushing forward another item she had prepared for this occasion. This time, it was a letter. "And it's not even the worst part. Read this. It's a magically sworn testimony signed by the Lord of House Black," she informed Dolores with a serious expression, making the woman's mouth drop open in surprise.

Meanwhile, inside, Daphne was hysterically laughing. There hadn't been a publicly announced Lord Black since the time of Arcturus, so Dolores would no doubt assume the letter came from him. In reality, she had made her boyfriend write it only yesterday. Afterwards, Kreacher had taught Harry how to put the official magical seal of House Black on it. The old elf had been very happy to criticize and correct Harry until he managed to do it perfectly.

"A halfblood!" Umbridge cried out. "That's impossible!"

Daphne looked at her sympathetically. "I had the same reaction," she admitted, vividly recalling the day she had learned the dark lord's true blood status for herself. It had nearly destroyed her, making her cry in front of Harry Potter back when they both still thought of each other as enemies. It felt like years ago. "Unfortunately, there's corroborative evidence, too extensive to go over right now. Suffice it to say both I and my grandfather, Lord Selwyn, are absolutely convinced Lord Black's testimony is valid."

Umbridge was ashen faced. "But that would mean…"

"… that through a mind-controlled Minister, our great nation, the purebloods of magical Britain, are being ruled by a bastard son of a muggle," Daphne finished for her, her face scrunching up in disgust. Unlike most emotions she had displayed during their conversation, this one was completely genuine. "I wonder, what is the official protocol for handling a situation like this?" Daphne asked, knowing that if there was a procedural law addressing what happens when the Minister for Magic is under mind control, Dolores Umbridge would know about it.

At first, Dolores seemed despondent, "There is no protocol!" she cried out in frustration. Then she managed to calm down, falling back into her official routine. "All the senior employees, including the Minister, regularly undergo medical examinations to prevent situations like this," she told Daphne, before frowning. "The last such examination was two weeks ago, so we can safely conclude this safeguard is not working."

"Most likely, the healers are under Imperius themselves… or at least handsomely bribed," Daphne thought out loud.

"Wait a minute!" Dolores suddenly cried out, fear written all over her face. "I could be under Imperius!"

"You're not," Daphne quickly assured her, nipping that line of thought in the bud before it could develop into a full-blown case of hypochondria. "I've already had you checked."

"W- what? When was that?!" Dolores demanded to know, looking almost outraged at the mere suggestion she had undergone an examination without her knowledge or consent. Daphne raised an eyebrow at her reaction. "I'm sorry… did you actually expect I would let you into my home and near my family if there was the tiniest chance you were not yourself?!" Daphne pointed out, her tone suggesting she was questioning the woman's sanity. She also gave her a very sharp look.

Hearing that explanation, Dolores quickly caved. "I- I see…" she said, and silence settled over the room.

Eventually, Daphne broke it by addressing the very large elephant their previous conversation left running amok in the room. "Obviously, the current situation cannot be allowed to continue," she declared and Dolores merely nodded.

"Do you have a suggestion on how to proceed, my lady?" Umbridge then asked, already catching on to the fact Daphne hadn't invited her to her office without a plan in mind.

"Indeed I do," Daphne confirmed, going straight to the point. "Pius Thickness will be declared medically unfit and relieved of his post," she announced. "An interim authority will be assumed by his senior undersecretary."

Dolores' eyes went wide. "But that's... that's me!"

Daphne nodded. "I can't think of anyone better for such a task… can you?" she asked, flattering the woman's ego to the extreme. It worked. Umbridge straightened in her chair and held her head high.

"I'm prepared to perform my duties," she declared with eagerness, obviously pleased by the concept of Minister Umbridge.

'Dream on, bitch,' Daphne thought vindictively while outwardly displaying a supportive smile. She had no intention of allowing Umbridge to be minister on a long-term basis. For one thing, she couldn't do that do Harry. But realistically speaking, the woman's actions as the head of the Muggleborn registration commission made her far too compromised. She would serve well for the transition, but that was it. For a few seconds, Umbridge rejoiced at the idea of becoming the Minister before she inevitably remembered the second and very ugly side of the coin.

"But… what of the dark lord?" she asked, her voice laced with fear. Daphne could understand if not sympathize with that fear. "If the other rumors spread by Dumbledore's lackeys are also true, then the dark lord might have strong support in the Wizengamot," Dolores mentioned before quickly adding. "Not that upstanding pureblood citizens would ever do anything so illegal, of course," she quickly said when she noticed Daphne's eyes narrowing.

"Were such rumors true, and I'm not saying they are, then I can assure you no noble family is going support a halfblood bastard son of a muggle who pretends to be a pureblood," Daphne answered with finality.

"Ah, so you intend to make the information on the dark lord's parentage a matter of public record?" Umbridge deduced, looking relieved.

Daphne smirked. "Already done… the dark lord will see his support disappear like a steam over a boiling pot."

Umbridge nodded. "And the dark lord himself?" she then asked, the fear in her voice somewhat lessened but still present.

"If I recall, the Ministry officially declared you-know-who dead almost twenty years ago, didn't they?" she asked, and when Umbridge nodded in confirmation, Daphne added with a nasty grin, "Then hypothetically speaking, no one can be prosecuted for murdering a person who's been dead for two decades…"

Umbridge seemed to seriously think about that before she shrugged, "I don't see how they could be."

"Good, it's settled then," Daphne announced, not giving Umbridge the opportunity to say anything else on the matter. "Now that we are in agreement on what needs to be done, I'm going to have to ask you to swear several magical oaths," she said, pinning her with her gaze.

As expected, Umbridge didn't like that. "My lady, is that really necessary?" she questioned warily.

"Until Pius and the dark lord can be removed, secrecy is paramount," Daphne insisted, leaning forward. "It's the only way to assure your ascendancy as the Minister for Magic goes smoothly," she suggested.

Being reminded of the chance to achieve her lifelong dream did the trick, and Umbridge reluctantly agreed. In her mind, Daphne laughed victoriously.


After Dolores swore and signed about dozen magical oaths, they continued their talks. Where their previous conversation had been meant to butter her up, it was now time to brief Dolores on the future events that Daphne knew she would be less than enthusiastic about.

"What we urgently need to discuss are the political changes after both Pius and the dark lord are removed from the picture," Daphne announced, knowing Dolores would be in her element there.

The older woman nodded eagerly. "I'd like to take some notes, if I may," she said. Daphne pointed at the papers and quill she had prepared earlier, anticipating such a request.

"The first issue is the future of the Muggleborn Registration Commission," Daphne began, watching as the woman started taking notes. "Long story short, it'll be abolished," she announced, surprising her guest.

"My lady!" Dolores spat the words, shocked by her suggestion.

Not reacting to her outrage, Daphne continued. "The current Commission is clearly dysfunctional," she informed her, making Umbridge even more indignant. "Too many mudbloods are being sent to Azkaban. The goal of the registration was to make them submit to their rightful superiors, not imprison them!" Daphne chastised her before adding, "I'd go so far as to say the Commission, as it is, is no longer acting in the interest of purebloods."

"B- but. That's not my fault!" Dolores protested, feeling as though the ground was slipping out from under her. "I approve of what you do with the mudbloods, my lady," she assured Daphne. "It's just that I've been overruled on so many occasions," Umbridge tried to feebly defend her actions or a lack of thereof.

"Of course," Daphne assured her with feigned sincerity. "I didn't mean to imply you yourself were acting against our interests," she said, watching as Umbridge released the breath she had been holding. Daphne suspected it had indeed been the Commission members selected by Voldemort who pushed for harsher punishments, but she also suspected Umbridge hadn't fought very hard to prevent that. In any case, it didn't matter anymore.

"I have prepared a list of mudblood prisoners that ought to be released," Daphne informed her, placing a paper next to the notes Umbridge was making. "They don't belong in Azkaban and cannot stay there for another day," she said with conviction. "I expect you to handle that with utmost urgency."

Umbridge looked at her with supreme confusion. "But… they've been sentenced. Even if they're innocent, they can't be released until new trials can be held!" she protested like a true bureaucrat, once again failing to see the big picture.

Daphne was expecting that. "I'm not saying they should be released right this instance. But they should be taken out of Azkaban and away from the dementors," she clarified. "Place them in the Ministry holding cells and give them proper food and medical attention," she suggested, leaning forward again. "Such an action would endear you to the public and increase support for your future administration," she added in a tempting, honeyed voice.

The older woman's eyes lit up as she was once again reminded of her possible future as the Minister for Magic. "Hmm… I can see how that would help. However, a positive reason to move the prisoners would need to be devised," she pondered aloud.

"There are multiple options. I'd suggest investigating financial irregularities in the prison budget," Daphne offered, and Umbridge nodded after a moment, seemingly satisfied with the idea.

"That could work," she agreed. "The budget for Azkaban was significantly altered just this month. It isn't going to be hard to find irregularities," she said, smiling as she made a few more notes. Meanwhile, Daphne was laughing inside, knowing the only reason the Azkaban budget had to be changed was because Harry and she had broken out the prisoners kept at Malfoy manor. A portion of the prisoners that would've normally ended up in the Manor were now being sent to Azkaban.

"So it's your intent to no longer register the mudbloods in the future, my lady?" Dolores asked for clarification, her tone disapproving despite not daring to voice it outright. Daphne wondered if Dolores seriously thought she, Lady Daphne Greengrass, was turning blood traitor.

"Not exactly," Daphne assured her. "While the Commission will be abolished, it'll be replaced by a new census office… one that will examine and certify the lineage of all wizards and witches."

"All… as in, not just mudbloods?" Dolores asked to make sure she had heard right.

Daphne leaned back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap as she considered the question and the person in front of her. "If the current crisis proves anything, it's that halfbloods can be just as dangerous and subversive as mudbloods. Wouldn't you agree, Dolores?"

Umbridge shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Yes, yes, of course… but you mentioned all, so that would mean…"

"Yes, even purebloods such as myself," Daphne confirmed. "It can be a mere formality in practice, but to completely exclude the purebloods would foster needless resentment from the general population."

"I see," Dolores said, looking thoughtful as she continued to make notes. "And the sanctions for noncompliance?" she wondered.

"The penalty code can be clarified later," Daphne dismissed her fairly technical question. "Right now, we need to discuss the future integration of mudbloods, as a mere registration process is obviously not the ultimate answer," she told her, watching as Umbridge started another list of notes.

Daphne waited for her to write the headline before she announced, "It's my intention to have the mudbloods undergo a mandatory acclimatization course before their official Hogwarts attendance… a zero year. if you will."

To her credit, Umbridge wrote it down without protest, despite her shocked look. "But… wouldn't that give them an unfair advantage compared to their peers?" she wondered.

"Hardly," Daphne dismissed her concern. "The goal will be to introduce them to the magical world and explain their place in it. The mudblood children will be shown examples of magic, but they will not be taught any spells."

Umbridge nodded in understanding. "The length of the courses and the budget source?" she asked next after making two bullet points on the paper.

"I was thinking three to four months," Daphne answered after a moment of thinking. "As for finances, preferably their muggle families will pay," she suggested, finding it amusing and ironic to have the muggle parents pay for their children being taught about muggle inferiority. "In addition, I also intend to promote the program, eliciting private donations from pureblood families. It'll allow them to meet the promising mudbloods early and foster good relationship with them," she said and paused, remembering how happy David had been to be playing with other kids of his age. "I also propose selected pureblood and halfblood children of the same age or the first years, visit the program for a short time," Daphne continued, pouring out all her ideas.

It took Umbridge a while to write everything down. Finally, she was done, and the three sheets of paper were completely full. The older woman frowned. "My lady… isn't all this a bit excessive?" she asked carefully. "Such extensive mudblood integration measures were never proposed, much less implemented."

Daphne knew Umbridge was probably right about that but she stood by her decision. "It's necessary. It will prevent another Hermione Granger from being created," she retorted calmly. "Surely that would be a worthy goal, don't you think?"

Dolores paled a little at the reminder and hatred covered her face. "Yes... it would," she said through pursed lips. "In that case, why not take it one step further and just take the mudbloods away from muggles at birth, offer them up for adoption?" she proposed.

Daphne considered that briefly before shaking her head. "No. That solution was tried several times in the past," she reminded Dolores. "Ultimately, it creates more problems than it solves."

"Are you referring to the Bourbon incident?" Dolores asked almost immediately, pleasantly surprising Daphne for the first time today. 'At least she knows her history,' Daphne thought. "Yes, among others," she confirmed.

Despite its name, the Bourbon incident had nothing to do with alcohol. It referred to a serious succession crisis within the French royal family, the House of Bourbon, in the seventeenth century. Because the crisis involved magical people, the muggles had no idea it ever occurred. It all started when identical twins, both male, were born to the queen of France. The birth of identical twins was rare among humans, but it was practically unheard of for one to be born magical and the other a Muggle. In accordance with the customs and laws of that time, the muggleborn twin was immediately taken away from his parents to be adopted and raised by a magical family. The muggles had their memories adjusted, making them forget there ever was a second child.

Normally, that would have been the end of it, as the identity of their biological parents was not disclosed to the adopted mudbloods. Unfortunately, things became complicated when the muggle twin was crowned king, becoming known as Louis XIV. Looking exactly like the French king was a dead giveaway and the muggleborn twin easily managed to put two and two together. Worse, he somehow learned he was the elder of the twins, making him the heir by both muggle and magical laws. After lengthy deliberation, he came to the faithful conclusion that being the king of muggles sounded better than the subservient life he would have in the magical world. And so the muggleborn decided to claim his muggle heritage. Using magic, he easily deposed his muggle brother and imprisoned him. Being identical twins, he then simply assumed his brother's identity and position as the king of France, with his subjects being none the wiser.

Naturally, his unorthodox actions attracted the attention of magical authorities. Long ago, wizards and witches agreed they would no longer use magic to openly rule the muggles. And although it limited the amount of direct control they could exercise over them, Daphne strongly believed it was the correct decision. Historically speaking, being ruled by magicals, whether openly or secretly, always benefited the muggles far more than it did her people. Even the Bourbon crisis demonstrated it clearly.

After being arrested, the muggleborn twin was charged with using magic to gain control of the muggle Kingdom of France, a capital offense. Luckily for him, however, he was sly as a fox. During his trial, the mudblood twin managed to successfully argue that since he had been born a king of muggles, he didn't really use magic to gain rule over them as that rule had been legally his from birth.

While that got him off the hook for the criminal charges, the idea of a mudblood king didn't sit well with the French purebloods. Finally, a compromise was reached. The muggleborn twin was ordered never to reveal his abilities to his subjects and, furthermore, the magical government insisted all his official children be fathered by his muggle brother, as they absolutely wouldn't allow the creation of a magical dynasty. The muggleborn brother agreed to all the stipulations and was finally allowed to assume the identity of Louis XIV.

Meanwhile, his younger brother spent the rest of his life in prison, where he was forced to wear an unbreakable iron mask to hide his real identity. His only contact with the outside world was when someone came to collect his sperm for his brother's queen. Despite the severely limited contact and security measures, parts of his story still leaked to the public, prompting much gossip and causing several muggle authors to write inaccurate novels about the mysterious prisoner in the iron mask.

Of course, there was one more issue the magical government of France had to deal with: as a wizard, Louis XIV could easily live up to be 150. But obviously, he couldn't stay on the throne for that long, as the muggles would find it suspicious. In the end, he was generously allowed to rule for almost 73 years, longer than any other muggle monarch on record. By then, the muggleborn Louis XIV had outlived his younger brother as well as two generations of his brother's progeny, making his great-grandnephew his official heir. It was at that point the French purebloods finally decided enough was enough, forcing him to fake his own death and quietly retire.

Daphne had always liked the story of the Bourbon incident, believing it strongly supported her family's philosophy, as many of magical Louis XIV's best decisions were based on lessons taught to him by the pureblood family that adopted him. Under his leadership, muggle France reached the zenith of its power, decisively proving that mudbloods, inferior thought they may be in comparison to purebloods, could still achieve incredible things with the proper guidance.

It was a personal irony that the retired Louis XIV lived long enough to see his family's legacy and all his personal accomplishments completely torn down by the French revolution. In his memoirs, he expressed regret over ever pushing for the throne, considering his time as the king of muggles ultimately meaningless and far less rewarding than the years spent in the magical world. He also ended up expressing tacit support for pureblood supremacy, acknowledging that he never would have achieved what he did had he not been adopted and educated by purebloods. A personally signed copy of his autobiography could be found in the Greengrass library and was one of Daphne's favorite books.

"The mudblood children need to stay with their parents until they're ready," Daphne decreed, thinking of the Wild Hunt and their rule of not kidnapping children younger than eight, unless they were showing accidental magic. "Once they're old enough, we can start educating them on their rightful place," she finished with a smile.

Umbridge wrote everything down. By now she had three more papers full of notes. "My lady… are you sure you can gather support for this? I worry there'll be significant resistance from Dumbledore's remaining supporters," she mentioned with concern before frowning even more. "Not to mention Harry Potter… the charges against him will likely have to be dropped," she said with distaste. "He'll be free to lead the opposition against you!"

"Ah, yes… Harry Potter," Daphne sang happily, grinning as she absentmindedly circled her finger on the table. She then looked straight at Dolores. "Harry Potter is not going to oppose me. In fact, he won't be a problem at all," she announced proudly.

Umbridge looked very confused until her eyes lit up. "You have him imprisoned, don't you?" she asked with relief and eagerness audible in her voice. "He was captured with that filthy mudblood whore."

Daphne smiled at that – it was a good guess. Of course, Dolores could never have guessed the second part of the story. "He's not a prisoner," she admitted and before the older woman could ask for an explanation, she added, "You see… I'm going to marry him. Harry Potter is going to support me as my husband and future lord of House Greengrass," she informed her calmly.

If deathly silence was an entity, it would have descended on the room at that moment. Umbridge didn't speak, didn't move. As far as Daphne could tell, the woman didn't even breathe. Not wanting to see her pass out from the lack of oxygen, Daphne raised her perfect eyebrow and asked, "Is there a problem?"

Faced with the annoyed tone of her voice, Dolores Umbridge seemed to have regained her ability to speak, if it could be called a speech, as poison words and spit came flying from her mouth in equal measures. "My lady… he's a halfblood!"

"He certainly is," Daphne replied with a smile. She had admittedly struggled with Harry's blood status for a while but not anymore. Now she simply delighted in it. The truth was that Daphne would've been bored with a pureblood man. She would have felt obligated to treat him with constant respect befitting his blood status. Not like with Harry Potter. With Harry, she was free to embrace her desires, allowing both of them to get exactly what they needed out of their relationship. And since he was a halfblood, there was never any conflict between social conventions and their mutual desires. A halfblood he may be, but he was her halfblood, and he was perfect for her.

Daphne was sorely tempted to stun the blubbering hag and go enjoy herself with her wonderful boyfriend. She eventually shook the thought away, just in time to hear Dolores utter a very venomous remark.

"… and his mother-" she began, about to besmirch the memory of Lily Potter.

"Ah, yes," Daphne tittered, interrupting her. "Harry Potter had a mudblood mother, it's true," she freely admitted before leaning forward, propping her chin with her hands while smiling nastily. "Tell me about your parents, Dolores," Daphne spoke in a sugary voice, which however left no doubt that it was an order, not a request.

Dolores Umbridge didn't finish the vile insult she was about to make about Lily Potter. In fact, she shut her mouth so fast there was an audible click of her teeth, definitely bruising her enamel, perhaps even cracking it. She started trembling and had trouble formulating words for a whole different reason than before. "F-father worked for M-ministry," she finally managed to stutter out.

Daphne nodded at that. "As a janitor and custodian, I believe," she added with a smile. "Making sure the toilets were working properly… an important job, to be sure," she acknowledged mockingly before hammering the final nail in the woman's coffin. "What about your esteemed mother?"

This time Umbridge didn't reply. Her lips merely trembled with but a few incomprehensive sounds coming out of her mouth. They could have been words or mere moans of fear. "Since you seem to have lost your tongue, let me refresh your memory. Mrs. Ellen Umbridge nee Cracknell, a worker at the local post office and most importantly… a muggle," Daphne finished the last part of the sentence with disgust.

She then stood up and walked over to Umbridge's side of the table, her heels clicking on the floor and her head held high. "The idea you spent nine months in your disgusting muggle mother..." Daphne said and trailed off, her angelically beautiful face briefly marred by an expression of supreme loathing. "Honestly, it makes me sick to even be in the same room as you, Dolores," she said, stopping in front of her guest and looking down on her imperiously. It was the same look Hermione Granger had come to know so very well.

Umbridge finally managed to regain control herself, at least enough to do the only sensible thing she could do in that situation. "My lady, please… mercy!" she cried, jumping out of her chair and throwing herself at Daphne's feet.

"Mercy?!" Daphne repeated, eyeing the kneeling woman coldly. "Unlike your disgusting filth of a mother, Lily Potter was a witch… A WITCH! Harry Potter's blood is far superior to yours… in fact there can't even be a comparison. IS THAT FUCKING CLEAR?!" she screamed.

In midst of her sobs and shakes, Umbridge managed to nod. Daphne smiled. "Good… good. Glad we've cleared that up," she told her calmly and noticed Umbridge was about to get off her knees. "Oh, don't get up, Dolores. We still need to discuss the fact you had your blood superior and my future husband tortured with a blood quill," she told her, her voice still deceptively calm.

If Daphne's previous looks were stern, the one she had now effectively sucked all the hope out of the room like a dementor. For a brief moment, Dolores Umbridge thought she was in the clear but now found herself thrust into an even deeper pit of despair.

"The Minister! He ordered -" she protested frantically, knowing she was truly screwed now.

"Fudge didn't order you to torture the students… I know this for a fact," Daphne dismissed her feeble excuses before shaking her head and pulling out her wand. "You see, Dolores, I could forgive you for lot of things," Daphne said while Umbridge's eyes were following the movement of her wand with mortal terror. "Pretending to be something better than a daughter of a muggle, speaking ill of those with purer blood, torturing mudbloods and blood traitors…" she listed off until stopping and meeting her eyes. "But not for hurting the people I love… for that, you must be punished."

In sheer panic, Umbridge pulled out her own wand to defend herself, but it only drew contemptuous laughter from Daphne. "Go ahead… try it!" she dared, feeling nothing but disdain for the woman in front of her. "I guarantee there won't be enough left of you to bury," Daphne promised chillingly, fully intending to keep it if necessary. The standoff between the two women was brief but intense, Daphne standing proudly and Dolores Umbridge on her knees, a wand in her trembling hand. Finally, the older woman lowered her gaze and threw the wand on the ground in resignation.

Daphne nodded with satisfaction. Then she waved her wand, causing Umbridge to levitate into the air, screaming and gasping for breath. Just like her mom, Daphne had never liked the Cruciatus curse, seeing it as too crude and potentially harmful to the caster. More to the point, there were far safer spells one could use to the same effect. For instance, the levitation charm was usually applied to a torso when used on humans. But an experienced caster could also use it on the head and neck, effectively strangling the person. If applied too quickly, it could even break their neck...

Of course, Daphne didn't keep Dolores hanging for long. Killing the despicable woman wasn't what she wanted. Even if it had been, she would've ordered her guards to do it, not wanting to damage her soul on account of someone like her.

"Minister Umbridge," Daphne repeated slowly with venom in her voice after she dropped Dolores back to her knees. The older woman was clutching at her neck, trying to catch her breath, but Daphne knew she was listening. "As long as you do everything I say… follow my commands to the letter… your legacy will be that of a woman who led our country through the worst crisis in its history," she promised, gaining the Umbridge's undivided attention. Even after being strangled, the desire for power and recognition was still obvious on the woman's face. "On the other hand, if you don't do as I say, or worse, you show unsolicited initiative as you did with my future husband, then your legacy will be of a different kind," Daphne articulated carefully.

"Firstly, my grandfather will publically deny your relation to House Selwyn and your true origin will be revealed," she told the kneeling woman, letting her know she was aware of how Dolores avoided questions about her blood status by claiming distant relation to the Selwyns. For tactical reasons, Daphne's grandfather hadn't confirmed or denied the rumors. But one word from his favorite granddaughter, and he'd publically denounce Dolores as a liar. The woman knew it as she stared at Daphne Greengrass with utmost fear, even as the girl leaned over her, smirking.

"And that will be the end of you, my dear Dolores," she announced menacingly, showing her white teeth in a predatory smile. "You'll spend the rest of your pathetic life sweeping floors and cleaning shit-stained toilets," she said, laughing before adding. "Following in your father's footsteps. A worthy legacy for a daughter of a filthy muggle!"

"NO, PLEASE!" Umbridge cried, mortified by her words. "I'll do it, my lady Greengrass! I'll do anything you say, please… just, please don't do that to me!" she cried before kowtowing and sobbing at her feet inconsolably.

"Well, of course you will," Daphne spoke mockingly, amused by her submission. She then ordered Dolores to look at her. "When you officially meet with Harry Potter, you're going to apologize to my future husband and beg his forgiveness in the same manner," Daphne cruelly instructed. She expected more cries for mercy, but it looked like Dolores was so broken by now she immediately agreed to it as well. But Daphne wasn't finished yet. "Finally, you'll freely donate me a sample of your blood."

Dolores' eyes widened. "B- but why, my lady?" she asked in a trembling voice, her mind no doubt busy listing all the ways a freely given blood could be used against her.

Daphne smiled, savoring her fear. "That's none of your business, is it?" she hissed dangerously, having no intention of explaining herself to the woman or providing her with the solace of knowing. "You will give me your blood, and you will do it willingly… I'll know if you don't," she warned her.

There really wasn't any other choice for Dolores but to agree to this as well.

"Good," Daphne intoned as she took a step back. "A healer will come momentarily to extract a sample of your blood. After that, you will swear a few additional magical oaths to me before leaving my property," she informed her, even as she returned to her chair, picking up some papers to read.

Dolores Umbridge continued kneeling on the floor, her eyes downcast and tearful as she waited for the healer. The woman did not dare to stand up without permission and did not dare to ask for it. Daphne paid her absolutely no mind until the healer arrived.


"I hope you weren't too harsh on her," Harry told her after her meeting with Umbridge was over and the nasty woman had finally left. Hearing his remark, Daphne looked at him incredulously, wondering whether he was being serious. Fortunately, she found an amused smile on his face. "I'm just kidding," Harry assured her as he gave her a quick kiss and stroked her hair.

"Oh, good," Daphne growled, but part of her was genuinely relieved. "I can never tell with you Gryffindors and your annoying habit of showing mercy to your enemies," she complained half-heartedly. She heard Harry honestly laugh at her comment. After all the two-facedness she had to endure today, it was like music to her ears.

"Not that enemy, believe me," he assured her before frowning. "And what of Hermione?" he asked. There was a tiny bit of concern present in Harry's voice that probably only Daphne could pick up on at this point, more like a memory of times when answer to that question would have truly mattered to him.

Daphne sighed before answering. "She's intact, but… Dolores certainly did a number on her," she slowly admitted with a shudder. She then looked into Harry's eyes. "I'll handle it," she promised.

Harry nodded and changed the topic. "I still can't believe you actually made her willingly give up her blood," he said, looking at her in wonder. "You think it can really help?" he asked.

"I don't just think… I know it will help," Daphne corrected, taking his right hand in hers and gently tracing the ugly scar on the back of his wrist. "A willingly given blood from one who caused you harm. It's the only known way of healing scars like these," she told him. "It's not known to many, but luckily my family is one of the few," she added, smirking proudly. "The healers are already cooking up the remedy. By this time tomorrow, the scar will be gone."

Harry nodded, truly touched. "Thank you, Daphne," he told her honestly before absentmindedly brushing the scar on his face with his left hand. Daphne knew exactly what was going through his mind. Unfortunately, the lighting-shaped scar on Harry's forehead was a much tougher nut to crack. Daphne was actually starting to suspect it wasn't a scar at all but something else that just happened to be masquerading as a scar. But what it was so far eluded her, much to her frustration. "One thing at the time, Harry," she said and smiled sympathetically, pulling his hand away from his forehead and placing a gentle kiss on it instead.

When their eyes met Harry smiled, saying, "Perhaps it's for the best. I can barely stomach the idea of drinking some potion made of Umbridge's blood. I couldn't even imagine ingesting something that came from Voldemort," he told her, reaching for a glass of water to get the bad taste out of his mouth.

Daphne's lips quivered into a smile. "Well, you won't have to drink anything. It's a suppository," she told him, and Harry immediately started spitting the water out and all over himself. "I'm just kidding," she added and then laughed hysterically.

"Seriously, will you ever stop doing that?!" he asked between the coughs, but there was amusement in his eyes and voice.

"I won't," Daphne replied honestly. "It's too much fun," she added with a cheeky smile before turning serious. "I'm having the healers make it into a cream. We'll simply apply it to your skin before we go to bed," Daphne informed him, thinking she had never seen her boyfriend look more relieved.