His Wife | Severus Snape x OC

sixty-seven

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‹ MiraaChe ‹ has posted a new chapter!- ͙۪۪̥˚

┊❛ welcome to chapter sixty-seven❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

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Dolores Umbridge couldn't fathom why Rosabelle Snape had decided to pay her a visit. The woman she loathed was sitting calmly in front of her, an inscrutable smile playing on her lips as if she had all the time in the world.

"Professor Rosabelle Snape," Umbridge began, her tone dripping with false sweetness, "To what do I owe the... pleasure of your visit?" She forced a tight smile, though her eyes betrayed her irritation.

Rosabelle leaned back in her chair, her expression perfectly composed. "Oh, I just thought it was high time we had a little chat, Dolores. After all, we're both so... invested in the students' well-being." Her voice was light, almost playful, but there was a sharpness beneath it that Umbridge couldn't ignore.

"Indeed," Umbridge replied, her smile growing even more strained. "The Ministry and I are quite dedicated to ensuring the best for these young minds."

Rosabelle nodded, her gaze drifting lazily around the office. "Yes, yes. I've noticed the... improvements you've made here. Quite the transformation, isn't it?" Her eyes lingered on the pink frills and kitten plates, and she allowed herself a faint smirk.

Umbridge's eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the subtle mockery. "One must bring a touch of order and discipline to this school. It's been rather... lacking in recent years, wouldn't you agree?"

"Order and discipline," Rosabelle echoed, her voice still light, though her eyes had grown colder. "I suppose that's one way to describe it. Though I've always found that true discipline is about respect, not fear."

Umbridge's lips thinned into a taut line as she tried to maintain her composure. "You think you're better because you're... liked?" she hissed. "As if affection from students equates to authority? You're naive, Professor."

Rosabelle met her gaze, the corners of her mouth lifting in a subtle, amused smile. "Liked? Dolores, you misunderstand completely." Her voice remained calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. "I don't need their affection. I have their respect—something your 'authority' could never buy."

The smile faded from Umbridge's face, replaced by a barely contained rage. "Respect," she scoffed, "is irrelevant when the Ministry is behind me. I have power, real power. You and your husband are nothing but minor irritations."

Rosabelle's eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing as she leaned forward ever so slightly, locking eyes with Umbridge. For a brief moment, her expression softened—before her mind reached out.

Legilimency.

Rosabelle's vision was filled with flickers of insecurity, petty desires for dominance, and a deep, hidden fear that her control was slipping. She could see Umbridge's thoughts about Hogwarts, her growing frustration at not fully bending the school to her will. And then there was Harry—constant thoughts of punishment, of control. Umbridge loathed him more than anyone. Rosabelle pulled back with a smirk.

"Is that what you tell yourself when you look in the mirror, Dolores?" Rosabelle's voice was soft, almost pitying, as she read the fear in Umbridge's eyes. "That you have real power? That it's not slipping through your fingers like sand?"