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The Grind (And Helping Heather Potter) Ch.32
🕑 Added 2023-10-12 01:26:31 +0000 UTCI knew this was coming. It wasn’t a surprise. Fudge needed a way to enforce his decrees. That’s all this was. Of course, he would appoint his little toady. We’d prepared for something like this. But for them to attack Heather first…?
I was still rightly pissed off.
“What the absolute, bloody Hell are you playing at, Umbridge?!”
I quite literally stormed into the Great Hall. My magic kicked up unseen winds around me. Lightning sparked on my skin. A hurricane of pure potential made real cleared the path for me. The doors slammed into the wall on either side, shoved open without so much as a conscious thought.
There was mad and then there was whatever I felt at that moment. After two weeks, the frustration of Fudge’s attempts to disrupt my life had built to a fever pitch. And now it had a chance to be released. It boiled off me as pure magic and emotion, bending reality around me in small ways. And the perfect target for that frustration was now in front of me.
It wasn’t quite lunch yet. The Great Hall was still plenty full of witnesses along with my target. Unfortunately, the staff members who could actually do something weren’t here yet, leaving Heather to Umbridge’s attacks. The toad stood above Heather at the Gryffindor table. Her posture dripped condescension and hostile intent. My vision narrowed until I could see only the two Witches, ally and foe…
My thunderous entrance interrupted whatever ‘well-meaning’ lecture she was giving Heather. Umbridge jumped like a frightened animal, spinning to look at me with wide eyes. Just the sight of me made her shiver but she managed to collect herself rather quickly.
“A-Ah, Heir Black… So wonderful of you to join us. I was just informing Miss Potter of the new realities of our situation. I-I’m sure you understand…”
“Is that why I was told you were bullying my ward to try and get to me?”
“Bullying is such a crude word… I was merely applying the appropriate amount of pressure,” Umbridge demurred.
Keeping my gaze on Umbridge so I could stare her into the floor, I addressed Heather, “Alright, Heather?”
“Yeah, she wasn’t that bad. Insufferable and… disgusting… but I never thought she was going to draw her wand on me,” Heather answered.
I narrowed my eyes at Umbridge, “The fact that was even in question is concerning enough.”
Sensing the danger in my voice, Umbridge tried to make excuses and shove the blame onto me, “I’m sure everything can be reasonably explained if you simply listen to me instead of this upstart glory hound of a Half-Blood.
“There is no need for your abhorrent overreaction, Heir Black. Please, have some class and show the elegance afforded to you by your blood.”
Oh, this bitch… My core flared along with my indignation and anger. Pops and cracks surrounded me from inside and out. The smell of ozone — airy and bitter enough to taste — filtered into my nose. The air grew heavy with intent. The very world around me seemed to shake.
20 years old and I was about two seconds from an attack of accidental magic that would have put any child to shame. My Occlumency shields slammed down inside my mind and still, the anger didn’t pass. If anything, it only grew more focused like a contained explosion at the end of a long barrel, aiming directly at Umbridge. This complete and utter bitch…
“Oh, fuck…” Heather muttered, fading into the background as I glared at Umbridge with enough ferocity to actually burn her.
Umbridge stood tall out of some misguided sense of pride. She did her best to appear unbothered but I could feel her knees weakening. I could feel her heart thundering in her chest. I could feel her fear.
IIIII
Heather had been having such a normal day. Neville and the boys were hilarious in class, drunk off something or other that Seamus managed to brew. She was plotting a new prank on Atlas and the coven, debating whether or not to involve Luna. Despite Fudge and the tournament looming overhead, she barely had a worry in the world.
That was mostly because the coven had a plan. They weren’t going to just roll over and take Fudge’s indirect assault. He may have had ‘authority’ over the tournament now but what did that matter if no one paid him any respect?
It was half protest, half prank, and 100 percent brilliant in Heather’s book. The other champions were on board, seeing Fudge’s decrees for what they were. His power grab was useless if the people who were supposed to answer to that power just… ignored it.
All the important stuff was already decided and established. The champions were sworn to a magical contract and even if she wasn’t, Heather would have welcomed being disqualified. Her ‘champion privileges’ were eliminated but it wasn’t like Heather used those much. Skipping class whenever she wanted might have been fun if her best friend wasn’t Hermione Granger and being allowed to hire tutors was largely useless with the coven on her side.
Initially, they’d been worried Fudge would prevent her from competing and use the tournament’s contract to strip Heather of her magic. But it seemed even Fudge wasn’t willing to go that far just yet. Fudge still answered to public opinion, after all, and ‘squibbing’ Heather was something not even Dumbledore could get away with. All Fudge was left with was planning the only Task left in the tournament.
That might have been a concern but Atlas was preparing her for anything. As far as Heather could tell, Fudge only succeeded in making more work for himself. The title of ‘Lord Triwizard’ was worrying at first but was turning out to be largely empty.
Fudge was clearly lashing out. Narcissa had used House Black and their voting bloc to back him into a corner. Worst of all, she threatened his money.
And with the aftermath of Atlas’ trial and his Veritaserum-induced threat of retribution, the walls seemed to be coming down around the Minister. Add in the crimes of the Ministry against Sirius and Bella (even if they were committed by the former administration), the fact that a respected Pure-Blood like Narcissa was openly going against the status quo Fudge’s Ministry ran on and perpetrated, and Fudge’s time in office was looking more and more limited.
This whole scheme was just to try and hurt Atlas and House Black. Narcissa’s best guess was that Fudge was hoping to leave Heather without aid so she was either maimed or killed by the tournament. By complete and unavoidable accident, of course…
Then Fudge could turn the story around on Atlas again, asking why he didn’t train his ward better. He’d make Atlas and House Black seem at fault, pushing his own meddling to the side and sweeping it under the rug. And with the Girl-Who-Lived harmed, House Black (mostly Atlas and Sirius) would bear the blame to the Wizarding public, greatly diminishing their influence and wrapping them up in scandal.
Personally, Heather thought that was too crafty and devious a plan for Fudge to come up with on his own. She’d met the Minister and Slytherin wasn’t a word she’d use to describe him. Greedy? Yes, definitely. But he felt more like a Hufflepuff bad apple to her.
In the end, it didn’t quite matter what Fudge was. Heather and Atlas were still awaiting the consequences of his decrees. And nearly two weeks after the Second Task those consequences finally arrived in truth, bringing a grotesque toad to enforce them upon Hogwarts. Heather’s normal day was ruined before lunch even began…
She walked into the Great Hall, her mind occupied by simpler things like the best way to steal one of Atlas’ shirts. Hermione had begged off, saying she would catch up after returning a book to the library. And so Heather was alone just before lunch started, sitting at the Gryffindor table with her focus on her thoughts.
“Hem-hem…!” A fake, sickly sweet voice pulled Heather out of those pleasant thoughts.
Heather looked to the source of the voice and her face twisted slightly. She recognized Undersecretary Umbridge from Atlas’ trial and she was so much worse looking in person. All artificial pink, overdone makeup, and the mother of all holier-than-thou attitudes.
“Can I help you?”
“Not at all, Miss Potter. In fact, it is I that can help you,” The toad answered, her voice grating in Heather’s ears.
“I don’t think I want any help you can give me,” Heather barely tried to hide her disgust and contempt.
Umbridge’s eye twitched but she laughed it off, “Ohohoh! Quite the jester, aren’t you? Sadly, I must ask you to be serious and respectful. This is Ministry business, after all. It wouldn’t do to have people think the Girl-Who-Lived doesn’t respect the Minister of Magic, would it?”
“I don’t respect the Minister though. Especially not after the mess he’s pulling with the tournament. Which is undoubtedly why you’re here.”
Umbridge glanced around at the crowd they were beginning to draw. No one stepped close enough to interfere but plenty were right on that edge. For now, the students were just curious but who knew how quickly that could change.
“Hem-hem!” Umbridge faked clearing her throat. “Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, even misguided and uninformed ones. That is not what I’m here to discuss.”
Her glare at Heather said something completely different, “Shut up, child.”
“Yeah?” Heather bit back a smirk. “Out with it then. What do you want?”
Umbridge drew herself up, taking Heather’s acceptance as a sign that she once again had control of the situation, “The Minister has installed me as High Overseer of the Triwizard Tournament, as is his right as Lord Triwizard. I’m here to make sure his decrees are actually followed by the good law-abiding citizens of the Castle.
“And since the Minister’s first decision was to remove the… Black Heir… from the tournament, I am here to see that through. Don’t fret any longer, Miss Potter. I shall get you out from under his cruel, lecherous, Muggle-raised thumb!”
Her declaration sent murmurs through the gathered crowd. Umbridge stood as proud as can be, arrogantly oblivious to the reaction she’d gained. Especially from her target Heather, who stared at her with offense and no small amount of confusion written across her face.
“Atlas has only helped me. And he was the only adult willing to step up for me when I was falsely entered into this tournament,” Heather said. “Why would I want to ‘get out from under his thumb’?”
“Well, it just isn’t fair, is it?” Umbridge said matter-of-factly. “For a champion to have such an outside influence assisting them? It isn’t proper. No, not the way things are done. It’s a disgrace to the Triwizard name and the Minister means to rectify it.”
“Fair went out the window when a Fourth Year was entered into the tournament against her will!” Heather shouted, standing up.
Umbridge tutted as if Heather was being unreasonable, “Tsk, now, sit down, young lady. There’s no reason to get mad at me for your own failings. Have you considered trying harder?”
Heather very nearly saw red, “I try plenty hard! With Atlas’ help! And now you want to take away my only chance at survival?! For what alternative? Becoming a ward of the Minister? Is Fudge going to personally train me to beat a Dragon?!”
Umbridge adopted a considering look, more than willing to ignore Heather’s righteous rage, “Ah, that’s not a bad idea… Think of the good publicity. ‘Minister Trains Girl-Who-Lived!’.”
“Even I can see how blatant a power grab this is!” Heather threw her hands in the air.
“Quiet, girl. You’d be lucky to be trained by our glorious Minister,” Umbridge snapped. “He could even show you how a real Wizard handles things, unlike that Muggle Lord of yours.”
Heather retched, “Hurk-! Oh, God, I’m gonna be sick…”
Umbridge continued ignoring her, “Yes… That might set you right. I’ve always lamented how the hero of the Wizarding world was raised. Perhaps you just need a proper Wizard to put you back on the right track, Miss Potter…”
“You’re evil… Actually evil… Worse than Voldemort,” Heather gagged.
“Aaah!” Umbridge shrieked. “Watch your tongue, Miss Potter! Mentioning that name in public… Don’t you have any decency?!”
“Don’t you?” Heather shot back.
They stared each other down. Umbridge tried on her most scathing glare to shame Heather into apologizing. Heather ignored it, trying to bleach her mind of the implication of Umbridge’s prior suggestion. She felt so filthy just thinking about the possibility…
Then Atlas made his entrance and the filth Heather was feeling was washed away in an instant. His presence filled the Great Hall. Thunder accompanied his steps. A storm brewed in his eyes. His magic drowned out all noise with a dull roar. And Heather felt herself cocooned and comforted by a blanket of familiarity, raging as it was in her name.
All throughout Atlas’ confrontation with Umbridge, Heather could feel that familiar magic building. The whole Great Hall could feel it. Even Umbridge, judging by the way her knees quaked under the unseen pressure. Why she continued anyway, due to ignorance or arrogance, Heather didn’t know.
“-show the elegance afforded to you by your blood.”
“Oh fuck,” Heather muttered.
She took a step back. The rest of the gathered crowd did the same. Umbridge looked like she wanted to be anywhere but where she was. Like she wanted to have said anything but what she said.
Atlas didn’t draw his wand. He didn’t even move. But he still managed to put the fear of God into the Undersecretary.
His magic practically boiled the air around him. The ceiling of the Great Hall felt like it was about to come down on everyone at any moment. Pure potential swelled within him, visible even from the outside.
And his eyes. His eyes glowed an eerie purple. They were so thick with emotion and intent that they were impossible to deny. Despite herself, Heather was hypnotized, enraptured, enthralled, captivated, and utterly taken. And she knew she wasn’t the only one.
There was a certain magnetism to Atlas at that moment. A certain pull — deep, dark, powerful, and full of emotion — that made it impossible to look away. The world seemed to hold its breath. Magic came alive. Everyone in the Great Hall was spellbound. Everyone but Dolores Umbridge.
Atlas didn’t lash out. His magic was slowly brought under control and made as sharp as a knife. His expression may as well have been carved from marble. He didn’t even blink.
When Atlas spoke, it was in a deadly whisper, “… I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you correctly. Care to repeat yourself, Madam Undersecretary?”
Whisper or not, Atlas was heard clear as day within the Great Hall. People gasped involuntarily, too caught up in the events in front of them to even recognize their reactions.
Umbridge whimpered. It wasn’t the sound of a person — Witch or Muggle. It was a rabbit’s final death keel as it realized it was within the jaws of a wolf. It was the last whimper of life leaving the lungs. It was pants-wetting terror. Quite literally in Dolores’ case.
Her vision blurred. Almost nothing from her surroundings was clear. Only those eyes within a shadow bigger than anything she’d ever seen. Thoughts warped with fear or shut down entirely. She wouldn’t remember any of this if she survived. All that remained was Fight or Flight. And Fight was never an option.
“N-N-Never mind! I-I-…! Overseer! Tournament! Minister! Potter! Heir Black! G-Good day!”
Umbridge couldn’t string a sentence together if her life depended on it. Thankfully, it didn’t. It depended on fleeing as fast as possible and finding a place to hide and cry and change her panties.
She scampered away as fast as her stumpy little legs would carry her, muttering insanely all the while, “Survive, survive, survive, survive, survive-…”
After she’d left the Great Hall, Atlas took a long, slow breath. The unseen pressure lessened. The colossal shadow he didn’t know was behind him evaporated into thin air. But his eyes still glowed even when he opened them again, otherwise as calm and collected as usual. Or at least, they did until Heather came up to him and laid serious hands on his shoulders, looking up at him with a grim expression.
“You need to fuck me. Right now. Here, your room, I don’t care. Just-… Fuck! You have no idea how hot that was!”
The glow in Atlas’ eyes flickered off and on a few times before returning to normal, “Wait, what?”
“Dibs on round two!” Pansy called from the speechless gathered crowd.
“What…?”
IIIII
“Did she really learn nothing from her first day here?” I asked, more than a little dumbfounded.
“Eh, I think she’s just completely repressed it. You made her piss herself with a single question, Atlas. Not gonna be her happiest memory,” Heather snorted.
“I think that’s about right,” Hermione added. “From what Heather told me, being the focus of your attention then would have been traumatic for anyone.”
“Who knew being too terrifying would affect how well you get your point across…” I grumbled halfheartedly.
“Hem-hem-!” Umbridge cleared her throat, trying and failing at stern intimidation. “Miss Potter, Heir Black, we are in the middle of class. Surely you can save your… conversation for a better time.”
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat in return, succeeding where Umbridge did not, “Ahem… This is not your classroom, Madam Undersecretary, and you are not a member of the Hogwarts staff. Do not presume you can police my students or my assistant.”
Umbridge scoffed, “Pish posh, Minerva. I am simply doing my duty as High Overseer.”
Professor McGonagall’s nostrils flared and her voice dripped with sarcasm, “Oh? I was not aware Fourth Year Transfiguration fell under the umbrella of the Triwizard Tournament. I’ve only been teaching this class for 50+ years. I’m sure you have a much more solid basis of understanding here than I, Madam Undersecretary.”
Nodding pompously, Umbridge said, “It’s so good to see you willing to admit your shortcomings, Minerva. Thankfully, you have me here to pick up the slack.”
“Madam-… No. Dolores…” Professor McGonagall’s voice grew cold as she disregarded formality. “You seem to forget failing my class with distinction 25-odd years ago. The idea that you can ‘pick up the slack’, as you’ve said, is quite frankly laughable. You are not a professor. Or even a caretaker. Truthfully, I haven’t the foggiest why you’re in my classroom at all.”
Umbridge sputtered at the indignity, “W-Wha-! I could have your job for that insult!”
That was enough for me to step in as well, “Right, I’m going to stop you there. You can’t even begin to hope for the authority to back up that threat.”
Umbridge spun to face me and my interruption. She looked ready to start railing at me but then her eyes met mine. She froze in place and all that came out of her unnecessarily flapping mouth was a terrified little squeak. It seemed her body remembered what her mind didn’t.
Once it was obvious she couldn’t say anything, I continued, “You’re obviously not wanted here, Umbridge. So do us all a favor and move along, yeah? You can play your little power games when there aren’t students here trying to learn.”
No matter how much I wanted to just banish her out of the room, I knew better than to give her and Fudge that kind of ammunition. Instead, I just shooed her with my hand. She was already moving before her brain could formulate a response, her body obeying me as an automatic fear response.
To her credit — what little credit that was —, Umbridge eventually recovered before leaving the classroom. By that point, though, she was already at the door and couldn’t reasonably turn around. She still made sure to glare at me while she tried to pretend her exit was entirely her choice.
With Umbridge gone, the whole classroom seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. The Undersecretary certainly hadn’t made any friends at Hogwarts, especially after our confrontation at her first appearance. The students hated her. The staff barely tolerated her. And those feelings seemed to be returned by Umbridge, who didn’t have an ounce of respect in her body for anyone other than the Minister.
“Thank you for that, Atlas,” Professor McGonagall said, sighing the tension out of her posture. “I was worried I would have to take action to see her removed from my class. She’s always been an unpleasantly stubborn woman. The less said about her time as a student here, the better.”
“You’re welcome but it was no trouble, Minerva,” I dismissed with a smile. “I don’t think she could hate or target me any more than she already does.”
She nodded in commiseration, “I’m afraid you’re all too correct in that belief, Atlas.”
Class resumed and I let the toad fade into background thoughts for the moment. The original plan was to push whoever Fudge sent to enforce his demands until they went too far in front of too many people. It quickly became apparent that our active part in that plan just wasn’t necessary.
Umbridge couldn’t help herself. Sometimes, I think she wasn’t even trying to be obtuse and unlikable. She just attracted people’s ire everywhere she went. Even after making her piss herself in front of a good portion of the students, Umbridge kept coming at me and Heather. All we had to do was sit back, shoot her down, and wait until she saw herself exiled from the Castle.
I kicked her out of class that morning and yet by dinner, she was already coming back for more. Umbridge had been granted (read: bullied her way into) a seat at the staff table. I made sure to sit far away from her for obvious reasons. She was left at one end of the table, practically hanging off it to eat.
Poor Moody… Even that grumpy bastard didn’t deserve Umbridge. In fact… Yup, there he was leaving. He met my eyes as he did, seeming to say, “Fix this”. Umbridge immediately scooted over to claim the vacated seat, looking almost smug that she’d managed to drive off the person she was talking to.
Ignoring her, I returned to my meal and conversation. It was something of a special occasion. After all, until just a few months ago, Bella wouldn’t have been able to join me at the staff table.
Eating a meal with my mother wasn’t a rare occurrence but her making a public appearance very much was. Part of the reason for that was the public opinion surrounding her, even in the Castle. Bella preferred to avoid the pity and, strangely enough, looks of awe she received.
To many of the young Witches in the Castle, Bella was a hero and inspiration. Her story had been told to them as children, a cautionary tale for Pure-Blood Witches. And now they saw her in the flesh, having overcome her trials and tribulations to return to her true family. Perhaps understandably, she was the talk of the Castle whenever she made an appearance.
Bella didn’t quite know how to deal with the reactions she evoked just by being seen. She seethed in the face of the pity and shied away from the awe. The result was a surprisingly meek Bella when in public. She was nothing like usual and gravitated to me even more than normal (if that was even possible).
That was the other part of the reason she didn’t make many public appearances. She just wasn’t comfortable with the attention. Then there was the way she reacted to anyone who could reasonably be considered my enemy (*cough* Umbridge *cough*). Still, I thought working through this was good for her so I insisted she join me for dinner tonight. In that aspect, Dumbledore was actually the most helpful in bringing her out of her shell.
“It’s wonderful to see you well, Bellatrix dear. I can’t tell you how many times I laid awake at night regretting your situation. I-… I should have done more,” Dumbledore commiserated.
Bella snorted, “Oh, get over yourself, old man. No one could have done anything. You took care of Atlas for Sirius and I. That’s more than enough.”
Dumbledore chuckled at the fond name-calling, “As good as it is to hear you don’t blame me, I still feel the need to apologize. I’m sorry, Bellatrix. For everything you’ve experienced.”
“I’m not,” Bella said firmly. “Without all of it, I wouldn’t have Atlas again.”
Dumbledore smiled, “There’s the Bellatrix I remember…”
Suddenly a small Slytherin First Year Witch came up to the staff table, approaching us and briefly interrupting the conversation, “M-Miss Bellatrix…? M-May I have your autograph? I-I know you don’t like signing things anymore… For obvious reasons. B-But I just want something from you to keep and treasure. So you can do whatever to it! Even burn it! I’ll just keep the memory in that case!”
Bella looked just as nervous as the little First Year, “W-What?”
She was handed a piece of parchment, opening it to reveal a voided betrothal contract. Bella froze. It was like she’d suddenly been thrown back in time. So many emotions flashed across her face in an instant that I couldn’t follow them all.
She shakily read from the contract, “E-Emma Dobbs…? Of House Dobbs…? Is that your name?”
The Little Witch — Emma Dobbs — nodded, “It is, Miss Bellatrix.”
“And I see it’s already been rendered null and void…” Bella’s voice steadied slightly and she received another nod from Emma. “Well, then I suppose the only thing to do is get rid of this rubbish.”
The contract in her hands went up in flames and the tension in Bella’s shoulders relaxed. Little Emma beamed a smile so bright it could have blinded someone. Bella returned the smile with her own, one full of catharsis. I couldn’t help but smile as well on the sidelines, sharing it with Dumbledore as Bella healed just a bit more.
It was a pleasant moment and so, of course, Umbridge had to ruin it by standing to make a sudden announcement.
She tapped her glass with her fork, clearing her throat to attract all the attention she could, “Hem-hem! I, the Triwizard High Overseer, have something to put forth! A historic wrong has gone unrighted at Hogwarts this year. And now, I shall be putting it to rest.”
“This ought to be good…” I mumbled to myself.
Umbridge continued, “Heir Atlas Black has been working at Hogwarts as an Assistant Professor. He is also aiding the fourth Triwizard champion, Heather Potter. This injustice obviously cannot stand!”
Already, her announcement was causing chatter and protests from the students and staff but Umbridge continued on like a bull (frog), “The tournament’s rules clearly state that champions may not receive any assistance from their school’s staff. Atlas Black is blatantly flying in the face of that rule and seems to think it simply does not apply to him! Heather Potter is not much better! Either that assistance stops or I will see Heir Black removed as a Hogwarts Professor!”
Silence fell over the Great Hall as her words set in. No one knew quite how to react. Umbridge looked oh-so smug. Like she was sure she’d won. I couldn’t help myself. I started to chuckle. My chuckles evolved into full-blown laughter until I was just about laughing in Umbridge’s face.
Furious at the disrespect and confused by my cheek at the same time, she snapped, “Is something funny, Black?!”
“Okay, let’s assume for a moment that your assertions are correct — they aren’t but I’ll get to that in a second. Did you really think everyone here would just accept you at your word and cede to your demands? Including the staff? Including Dumbledore, the Headmaster of this school and master of the Castle you currently stand in?”
Umbridge fumed, glaring at me impotently as I continued, “And then there’s the fact that you’re just wrong. Heather isn’t the Hogwarts champion. That would be Cedric Diggory. Heather technically isn’t competing for any real school. It’s well within reason for me to offer her my assistance because of that fact.”
“I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, Black, but Heather Potter is clearly a Hogwarts student! Thus she must be a Hogwarts champion!” Umbridge declared.
“Oh? So you’re just going to ignore the actual Hogwarts champion Cedric Diggory? He was chosen first, after all. You’re not going to make many friends among Hufflepuff with that reasoning.
“Then you have to take into account the perspectives of our illustrious guests. Nothing in the tournament rules says that a school may field more than one champion. Seems a bit unfair to declare otherwise after two-thirds of the tournament has passed. Would you have the other schools draw another champion each to make things even?”
“How are they relevant?” Umbridge sneered. “We are talking about you and Heather Potter and how you’re cheating this historic event.”
I tutted condescendingly, “Tsk tsk~ if you say so… Just seems like that’s where the real injustice lies here, is all.”
“Now, listen here, boy! I am the Undersecretary for the Minister of Magic! I am the High Overseer! I decide what fair is-… Eeeeeek!”
“Shut up,” Bella said with a voice full of calm, dark menace. “A creature like… you… doesn’t get to talk to my Atlas that way. You’re not going to win here. Not in the least because I will personally murder you if you do. No one will stop me. Everyone here will just watch. Investigators won’t even have to search for witnesses. And they’ll still never find your body…”
Having stood by while Umbridge made her latest attempt to see me disgraced and thrown out of the Castle, Bella was furious. Perhaps that wasn’t a strong enough word for her current state. Bella was completely and utterly pissed.
And so, when Umbridge started raging, Bella couldn’t make herself stand idly by anymore. With a slashing twist of her wand, she upended the toad. Umbridge hung upside down in the air, held in the air at one ankle by Bella’s spell. Luckily, her thick pink skirt was tight enough that it didn’t flip upwards and treat everyone to an unfortunate view.
She squirmed and panicked as Bella threatened her. Blood rushed to her head, driving her frantic squeaks and squeals higher and higher. Bella was dangerously calm the whole while. Her wand was steady and even without her visceral threat, Umbridge seemed on the verge of passing out in fear.
Eventually, Umbridge fell still. She panted heavily, her eyes quite literally rolling in their sockets. With a small sneer of disgust, Bella flicked her wrist. Umbridge was tossed away like so much rubbish.
Madam Pomfrey almost begrudgingly moved to check on her but Dumbledore caught her eye and stopped her with a slight shake of his head. Personally, I thought Bella went easy on her. Not even a single curse or open wound. It was a marvelous show of restraint from my mother.
I squeezed her hand to show how proud of that restraint I was and to help calm her motherly anger while Dumbledore addressed what just happened.
“I feel I must say that Madam Umbridge’s opinions and views are her own. The other school Heads and I have generally agreed that Heather Potter cannot be a Hogwarts champion. She’s representing a fourth mystery school in the tournament. Mystery Inc., if I remember the shorthand we decided on. Thus there is no undue collusion around Professor Black aiding her.
“It should also be noted that Hogwarts is firmly and primarily behind Cedric Diggory. Miss Potter is still a treasured student of this school but since she’s representing another school, she may well be considered a guest much like her contemporary champions.
“Now, please, let us put these… theatrics behind us and finish our lovely meal. I’m sure the Madam Undersecretary shall be scraping herself off the floor soon enough. In the meantime, feel free to ignore her. Business as usual, yes?”
IIIII
Did… Did Umbridge finally learn when to quit…? She wasn’t hounding me today. And with the events of this week, that fact was concerning. Quite concerning, actually. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was doing something reprehensible. That she was trying some new method to get at me.
Eventually, the feeling grew too much for me to continue ignoring it. I excused myself from the class I was currently assisting with — Charms with the Sixth-Year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws — and went looking for her. The fact that Cedric was missing from that class didn’t go unnoticed either. While technically possibly due to the privileges granted to him as champion, it was unlike him.
I began searching the Castle, still unable to shake my dreadful premonition. The feeling only grew as I cleared every room I looked inside without finding either of them. Had I accidentally directed Umbridge’s attention at Cedric the other night by pointing out that he was the real Hogwarts champion? Eventually, my worry came to the point that I called a House Elf to help me find Cedric at the very least. Almost immediately, I wished I’d done so sooner.
“Mr. Ceddy Diggy is with Missy Toady in Prefects’ Bath. She is with knife and quill and contract! Trying to make Mr. Ceddy sign in blood!”
Shit… The idea of Umbridge abducting Cedric to the bath of all places was bad enough. What they actually seemed to be doing was somehow worse.
I was running before the House Elf even finished talking. Ground was eaten beneath my feet by long strides. I’m sure I was breaking every Muggle world record for sprinting and I was barely breathing heavily. Which just meant I could go faster…
Putting on a bit more speed, the Castle seemed to help me navigate its halls. When I came to the Grand Stairway, all of the stairs were already arrayed in the most convenient pattern. I paid it no mind as I took stairs two at a time up to the Fifth Floor.
Skidding to a stop in front of the Prefects’ Bath, I shouted out the staff version of the password. As it swung open, I caught the tail end of what was undoubtedly only one of Umbridge’s threats and torture.
“-You will sign, boy. Give up your position and magic freely and I won’t see your entire family ruined. Your father is the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. If you don’t sign, I will make sure he can’t find a job as a Knocktern Alley gigolo!”
Right, I’d already heard more than enough. A wandless stunner blasted out of my hand as I invaded the room. Umbridge was caught completely off guard and sent quite literally skipping across the water of the bath until she rolled onto the floor on the other side.
“Thank Merlin you showed, Professor Atlas!” Cedric exclaimed in relief. “She was trying to make me sign something that said I forfeit the tournament. And then with me gone, she’d insist Heather was the only one who could be the Hogwarts champion.”
“Just Atlas, Cedric. I think you’ve earned at least that much after all of this,” I said absently, undoing the ropes that kept him from fleeing.
He rubbed his wrists as the tension was let off, still in shock, “S-She… was trying to take my magic…”
I put a hand on his shoulder, “I know. But she didn’t succeed. And I’ll personally make sure she can never do something like this again.”
I walked over to Umbridge’s stunned form and reached down. Grabbing her by the ankle, I unceremoniously dragged her back around the bath and out the door. I made sure the trip wasn’t comfortable. Not like she would mind a few bumps on the head after I was done with her.
“What are you going to do?” Cedric asked as he caught up to me.
“You’ll see…”
Cedric looked wary of my non-answer but considering what just happened, he didn’t have much sympathy for Umbridge. I dragged her along the stone floor of the Castle until we reached the Grand Stairway. Unfortunately, I had to change her method of transportation there. Her insensate body would have brained itself if I dragged it down Hogwarts’ many many stairs. And I needed her alive for just a little while longer.
We passed an occupied classroom with an open door on our trek down the Castle. The commotion of me dragging Umbridge along behind me attracted the attention of the students inside. Purely by coincidence, classes were being dismissed at that time as well. Soon enough, there was a line of students trailing behind us like I was the Pied Piper.
I could hear the chatter and speculation behind me. I ignored it. Cedric didn’t do as well with that task but he stuck next to me and didn’t answer any questions. The staff joined my precession, asking what was going on. Still, I stayed quiet.
Tension built each time I didn’t answer. Professor McGonagall looked about ready to hex me. Everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see what I would do.
When I reached the Castle’s main courtyard, I chucked Umbridge’s body in front of me, letting her land in a heap. Of course, that was when Dumbledore arrived, looking more resigned than anything else.
“Atlas?” He asked without asking.
“She was torturing Cedric. Wanted to squib him by making him forfeit the tournament and letting the Goblet take his magic,” I answered coldly.
Gasps rang out through the crowd and Dumbledore just nodded sadly, “And what do you intend to do?”
“Make sure she can never hurt a student again. Or anyone else.”
With that, Dumbledore took a step back, wordlessly giving me approval to handle the situation as I saw fit. I spared Cedric a glance. He still looked like he couldn’t believe the situation he’d found himself in. And the way he was still rubbing at the rope marks on his wrists cemented my decision.
I revived Umbridge. She stirred slowly and groggily, barely looking around, “W-Wha-…?”
“Umbridge. Toad,” Silence fell over the courtyard as I spoke. “I haven’t been able to stand you since you set foot in this castle. No, I haven’t been able to stand you since you tried to railroad me at my trial. But what you did today went so far over the line that I’m forced to do something permanent about you. Actually, thank you for finally giving me an excuse.”
Umbridge was already on the defensive without even being accused of anything, “Lies! Lies and slander! I didn’t do anything! And if I did it was entirely deserved and appropriate! I wield the authority of the Minister of Magic! You think you can censure me, boy!? I won’t just see you removed! I’ll see you in Azkaban! Have fun with a Dementor like both your father and mother, Black!”
Eventually, I just talked right over her, “Targeting the students is inexcusable. Hell, targeting Heather was already enough for me to consider killing you. But you dragged Cedric — an innocent bystander — into this feud against me. Do you know how much damage you’ve done in a single week? No, it doesn’t even matter…
“Dolores Umbridge. I challenge you to a duel.”
Umbridge paled, “I-I refuse!”
I shook my head, “This is happening either way. I’m just hoping to give you a chance to fight back.”
She looked around for any semblance of help, eventually settling on Dumbledore. As she got on her knees to beg, he just turned away and whistled poorly.
“T-The Minister won’t accept this!” Umbridge tried one last avenue of escape.
“And the public won’t accept that you tried to squib a respected Pure-Blood Heir. That you tried to drag an upstanding young man into your petty machinations. Light or Dark, it won’t matter once that little bit of information comes out. If anything, I’ll be hailed as a hero.”
An entire masterpiece played out across Umbridge’s face, painted in emotion and expression. Her mouth dropped wide open with shock and realization. Her face paled to an unhealthy degree. Jaw flapping, no words came out. Eventually, her eyes focused back on me with hate like Fiendfire burning in her pupils.
“They won’t if I kill you first! Avada Kedavra!”
I just about sighed at the screams that followed the beam of green spell-light. Though to be fair to them, I doubt any of the students had seen this particular spell in action. I hadn’t either technically, but I knew how to handle it.
A wall of stone shot up in front of me. Fueled by her hate, Umbridge’s Killing Curse shattered the wall. Pieces flew, bouncing harmlessly off a Dueling Shield that someone — Dumbledore or Flitwick if I had to guess — erected around between us and the students.
Umbridge let out a blood-curdling shriek, “I’ll kill you, Black!”
Another Killing Curse met a similar fate against transfigured defenses. Then another. Umbridge put her entire being into the hateful curses. I could almost feel her soul blackening with each one. It might have been the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.
The Killing Curse must have been a taxing spell. Soon enough, Umbridge was completely drained. Her whole arm shook with strain. Her chest shuddered with each breath. Something behind her caught my attention. Luna stood on the other side of the Dueling Shield, holding up two very specific items she’d been trying to work into my life recently.
“S-Surely, we can talk about this…?” Umbridge panted.
Then her face twisted into a loathsome sneer as she disregarded her words for a surprise attack, “Crucio!”
I shook my head in exasperation. Half because I was expecting something like that from Umbridge and half because of Luna’s insistence that I use the outfit and weapon we’d found in the Black Vault. Still… why not?
I gave Luna a minute nod while Umbridge cast. She stuck the items through the Dueling Shield and I summoned them from her hands. A pitch-black cowboy hat flew into the curse’s path, recoiling and rendering it harmless before falling into my hand much like the other item.
Twirling the hat in my hand, I settled it onto my head. Looking out from under the brim, I checked the chamber of the Black Steel Dueling Revolver. It hummed in my hand, excitable and eager to be used for its true purpose.
Satisfied, I looked back up at Umbridge, “There’s nothing to talk about. You’ve brought this entirely upon yourself. Any sympathy or mercy I may have had is long gone now.”
Umbridge was understandably confused by my additions to the duel. I imagine she wasn’t the only one. Suddenly dressing as a cowboy wasn’t exactly normal, even for Wizarding society. But it was striking. People (not Umbridge for obvious reasons) would remember this. They’d talk. And hopefully, the statement I was making here — as a Black Rider of Death and Retribution — would keep others from trying to repeat Umbridge’s crimes and mistakes.
Also, it would make Luna happy. After this week around Umbridge, I needed something simple like that to settle my soul.
“Consider this a threat and debt repaid,” I said, leveling the firearm at Umbridge’s center of mass.
Umbridge scoffed, trying hard to seem unafraid, “A-A gun? I knew you were a poor excuse for a Pure-Blood. Now, everyone can see what I see. Can’t even use a real Wizard’s weapon, B-Black?”
“This is a real Wizard’s weapon,” I replied, my voice flat and unbothered. “Fireball.”
A specific Rune set within the Dueling Revolver activated, drawing magic from my core. I fed it easily. The barrel glowed molten-metal red. As if it was suddenly containing a small sun.
My finger squeezed, taking more effort than I expected. The hammer cocked and shot back forward. Firing pin struck primer. Powder ignited inside the casing. The weapon bucked in my hand. Inside, sparks turned into force. Contained, the force built for fractions of a second before exploding forward. A mighty crack split the air.
Blink and you’d miss it. A bullet shot from the barrel, invisible to the naked eye. The fireball that followed wasn’t so invisible. It was stuck to the back of the bullet, looking so much like the initial detonation within the chamber turned up to 11. Any misconceptions that this wasn’t a Wizarding weapon were immediately put to rest.
Umbridge’s eyes widened as the barrel flared. All she must have seen was a flash of light. The next instant, she was shot through and overtaken completely by the fireball that followed. Another instant later and nothing was left of her. Not even a scorch mark on the courtyard’s cobblestone where she just stood.
Ears rang, none more so than mine. Spots were blinked out of vision. Silence reigned. Shock faded slowly. I lowered the Dueling Revolver. It was practically jumping in my hand.
Even as the Dueling Shield was lowered as well, normalcy never returned. Perhaps it never would. Even the reveal at my trial paled in comparison to this duel and the statement I’d made here.
A turning point. An axle of change. Some things just couldn’t be forgotten. Looking around, I saw every emotion on the faces of my students. Awe. Fear. Disbelief. Regret. Vindication. Whatever came of this…
“I told you the hat would look dashing,” Luna said, skipping up to me and pulling me from my melancholy thoughts.
Bubbly as ever, Luna broke the spell, “It… certainly made me feel right intimidating.”
“And look! No clean-up required!”
I snorted despite myself, “I suppose you’re right.”
Septima was next, wrapping me in a tight hug, “You really need to learn not to play with your food, Atlas.”
Luna stealthily took the Revolver from me so I could hug her back, “I’ll try and do better in the future, dear.”
She hummed, burying her head in my shoulder. This… This was exactly what I needed after all of that. It was almost as good as the Grind. Speaking of which…
< New Title Unlocked: Black Rider (Vanquisher of Toads) >
< +2 to Attack, +3 to Defense, +3 to Dueling >
< Attack 45+2=47/100, Defense 43+3=46/100, Dueling 51+3=54 >
Well… that was certainly fitting. The first Title I’d earned as well. That’d put the fear into Fudge. It was also a good… *sigh* supervillain name… Luna was corrupting me. Somehow, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Comments
Togglingon
Thanks for the chapter! Right, I read in a HP fanfic, that "The 3 Unforgivables" use part of the soul when casting, which is why they're "Unforgivables". Pretty sure it was stated that you could recover that part with time, but using the Unforgivables multiple times in a row made it far harder to recover.
Darkanlan
I honestly don't get why he just didn't declare a blood feud against their families and kill off Fudge and Umbridge. If they're doing the whole lord bit, then blood feuds do exist. Hell even in non noble world they exist and only end when one family is killed off or the two families come together and discuss terms.
