Dark Defense

Hogwarts Inquisition.

Cornelius Fudge paced in his office at the Ministry of Magic, his face a mix between impotent terror and rage.

It had been bad enough when his attempt at curtailing Dumbledore's attempts at turning the impressionable students of Hogwarts into an army failed, namely by the simple fact that his little 'Educational Decree' had been beaten by Dumbledore actually managing to find someone to fill the role of DADA professor. This meant he'd had to find a different method of having one of his people planted at Hogwarts, but there was only so much authority Dolores could wield with only the title of 'Representative', which basically meant she was little more than a Freeloader, with no more power or rights than those of a student.

Hell she wasn't even allowed to enter the dorms, let alone the offices of the staff.

Not only that, he had a sneaking suspicion that the messages she was sending him were being checked, but brushed this aside as ludicrous. Dolores was a Ministry official, she had her own private owl that was immune to the screening Fudge had set up over the Hogwarts Owl-Post, and all letters to the ministry were covered with protective spells that would trigger the minute the wrong recipient touched it, thus destroying the contents.

But the fact was Dumbledore had not only managed to recruit a new professor, but Fudge had absolutely no idea who the man was. He clearly wasn't on the Ministry's list of potential DADA professors, or Fudge would have already seen to it he was 'indisposed', and there was no listing of a Vergil anywhere in the Auror reports. It was as if the man had popped out of thin air to mock the Minister.

For a fleeting second, he humored the possibility of the man being a muggle, or even a squib, but brushed it aside as madness. Dumbledore might have gone mad, a delusion that Fudge had desperately come to believe as fact, but even HE wouldn't be so desperate as to hire a Squib, let alone bring a Muggle past the anti-detection wards.

Still, the fact was the man wasn't in Fudge's pocket, which most logically, according to the desperate Minister, meant he was one of Dumbledore's men, which in turn meant that right now he was likely teaching a much different curriculum than the Ministry had planned out for the year, and the many that would follow if Fudge had any say about it.

'This will NOT do.' Fudge muttered, idly turning his bowler hat between his hands, biting on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood as he feebly tried to think of a way to circumvent Dumbledore's scheming 'Dolores is literally flying blind, without the authority as professor she can't even set up a communication's spell in the fireplace, and there's only so much we can risk to Owl Post...'

"Sir?" a voice called out from behind as Percy Weasley, the Minister's junior assistant and estranged son of the Weasley family, entered with a stack of forms to fill in "Here are the-!"

"HAVEN'T YOU EVER HEARD OF KNOCKING?" Fudge snarled, though in actuality it was more like a terrified shriek, as he'd been rather jumpy of late, wondering when one of Dumbledore's spies would swoop in and jinx him.

'As a matter of fact,' he noted, his eyes narrowing as Percy scuttled out of the room in a panic, leaving the papers fluttering where he'd thrown them in the air 'the whole Weasley family's in Dumbledore's pocket…better make inquiries into his loyalty…!'

He trailed off, running that last train of thought through his head as a slow, wicked grin formed on his face, before jamming his Bowler on top of his head and making for the records room, idly making a note to give Weasley a raise.

After all, anyone that could help the minister think up a plan THIS ingenious couldn't POSSIBLY be against him.

Breakfast, hogwarts...

"High Inquisitor?" Harry repeated, looking over Hermione's copy of the Daily Prophet in disbelief, idly skimming through Percy's load of gobshite concerning how well Umbridge had been accepted into Hogwarts.