Padfoot and his Pup

13. | Scars- Part Three

Dolores Umbridge was not having a good day. Hell it had been a horrible week.

Three days ago, Black had paid her a visit in her office. That day marked the beginning of her downfall. She had tried to kill him, but he had been too strong for her.

He had stunned her without warning and she'd lost consciousness. When she'd regained her senses, she found herself in a cell, in handcuffs. Guards had visited her, bringing her food. But, other than that, she had no visitors.

An Auror had come to her cell yesterday, to tell her that Black would be the one conducting her interrogation. She would be lying if she denied that she had nearly quaked fearfully on hearing that.

He was a scary man, there was no doubt about that.

During the first two days, she'd hoped that her boss would turn up and pull her out of this whole mess, but there had been no help from that end either.

She sat upright in her cell when Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of the Aurors who had arrested her, came to her cell.

He wordlessly unlocked her cell door and led her outside, probably towards the room in which the questioning would take place. She was pushed into a chair and the guards entered and positioned themselves on all four corners of the room.

The door opened and fear gripped her heart when she saw the person who entered. Maybe it was just her mind playing cruel games on her, but Black somehow looked even more intimidating this time. He was the one who held all the power today.

"Dolores Jane Umbridge, I must say, you have an impressive past. The aurors did a little bit of investigation and we've found quite an interesting list of facts. Seems like your track record isn't as clean as you made it appear."

"What... What do you mean?"

"Aside from minor thefts in your neighborhood, Aurors found evidence and victims who were subjected to the very same quill you used on my godson. Children."

How did they find out about that? Hadn't she wiped their minds properly?

"You worked as a private tutor before you joined the ministry, am I right?"

She was utterly doomed. Black had clearly been very thorough in his search.

"One of the boys told me that when he was nine, you put a sticking charm on his chair and forced him to use the Blood Quill until you were satisfied. All because he caught you stealing. A little too harsh, isn't it?"

She flinched from the ferocity of his glare and balled her hands. "I didn't do any of that."

He clicked his tongue mockingly and shook his head. "I'm ashamed of you, Umbridge. You are the one who always says that one must not tell lies. You better start talking."

She gulped fearfully. "It was a long time ago."

"Not so long after all. We'll see what the DMLE has to say about this during your trial."

She looked up at him with shocked eyes. "Trial?"

"Of course. Every criminal must receive a fair trial. What did you expect, Umbridge? A fine? Suspension? I thought I was wrong but you've more than earned yourself a stay in Azkaban. Malpractice is one thing but child abuse is something different altogether. As for the duration of your stay, only time will tell."

The words rang in her ears. She was going to prison. All because of one stupid, orphaned, scar-faced brat with an overprotective godfather.

She looked at Black and found no mercy in his steely eyes. There was nothing in them except for a raw, cold fury directed solely at her.