Heir of Dracula By ZenoNoKyuubi

Chapter 9

–1996–

"And where do you think you're going?"

Harold froze as he stood on at the edge of the Forbidden Forest in June nineteen ninety-six. Slowly, he turned around to see none other than High Inquisitor Dolores Umbridge standing there, pointing her disappointingly short wand at him. She looked triumphant, somehow.

"You'll be expelled for this, Potter," Umbridge whispered triumphantly as her eyes almost glowed with the glee she was feeling. "The Forbidden Forest is exactly that. Forbidden."

"Very true, but I need to go to the Ministry of Magic," Harold said calmly, "so I thought I might just go in there and borrow one of the school's thestrals. And don't call me Potter."

"But it's your name, isn't it?" Umbridge asked. "Before you became an inferior being, you were once a wizard named Harry Potter, were you not?"

"I think you will find, Professor Umbridge, that it is you who are the inferior being."

Umbridge narrowed her eyes at Harold. "Walk, Potter," she ordered.

"What?" Harold asked, his elegant eyebrow rising slowly.

"You heard me, Potter, I said walk," Umbridge repeated, moving up to Harold and jabbing her wand into his chest. "We are going to have a little talk, you and I, before I take you back to the castle to expel you. I am going to teach you to show me the respect I deserve."

Harold gave a small chuckle as he turned around and started walking into the forest.

"So, you have an even crueler side to you than I first suspected," he said, a vicious grin appearing on his face, unseen by Umbridge. "How interesting."

"Shut up and walk, Potter."

They walked for a good ten minutes, deeper and deeper into the forest, until all they could see through the trees around them was darkness. The air was a bit colder in here, and a deep mist had rolled in. Umbridge didn't know this, of course, but Harold had manipulated the weather as best as he could during their little walk, summoning the mist.

"This is quite far enough, I think," Umbridge said, and Harold spun around to face her, to see that sickly sweet smile once more on her face. "Oh, I am going to enjoy this, Potter. Cruci-"

There was a flash of silver, and the red glow that had built up at the tip of Umbridge's wand died down as her hand was separated from her wrist.

Umbridge's eyes widened at the sudden loss of her hand, and she seemed to be in too great a shock to scream from the pain. The sword that had materialized in Harold's hand flashed again, and this time, her foot was separated from her leg, this time actually making her scream as she collapsed to the ground, the blood pouring from her wounds.

Her screams were sweet music to Harold's ears, and the sword vanished in a cloud of blood red mist. Harold walked over to her, grinning widely.

"What's wrong, superior being? Why don't you stop me? Summon up your familiars! Regrow your limbs! Fight me!"

"Y-You... You monster!" Umbridge shrieked, clutching at her stump of an arm. "HELP ME! HEEELP!"

"You took us far into the forest..." Harold whispered, his grin widening. "So that no one could hear me scream. Well, the same goes for you. No one can hear you scream in here... No one will come to your rescue..."