The Walls Around Her Heart | Dolores Umbridge x Donald Trump

Chapter Six

"Sir," the concerned agent said, trying to capture Donald's attention. "I don't think the obedience potion is working well... We didn't plan this well."

"Nonsense!" Donald chirped, posting his tweet about how tragic these frequent school shootings are, without any regard about how to fix said problem. He's a really good president, can't you tell?

The agent sighed, knowing there was no point in even trying to get his point across. Donald Trump was simply stuck too far up his own ass.

It was time for Donald to show his appreciation to the witch. She had fixed his country for him, so really it was only natural he should repay her.

"How much money does a job like this normally run for?" Donald asked, grabbing his checkbook and wallet. Fuck the bank, though, so he put his checkbook away.

Dolores plastered a fake grin onto her face. "Well sir," she said pleasantly, "I find no use of your money. But I'm sure there's another way to repay me."

Donald's eyes darkened. No, there was nothing in this world that couldn't be solved with money. "Hm," he said, frowning. "That is not good for you."

"How so?" Dolores blinked.

A wicked grin found it's way on the President's face. "I won't have to repay you," he decided, "if my men take you out."

And thus the manhunt began. Or, womanhunt, rather. He took his phone out, and with a few simple clicks, alerted his agents about the situation and ordered the hit.

However, Donald didn't take into account that Dolores is a witch. Dolores simply pursed her lips and apparated away from him.

Donald paused, realizing how idiotic he was. "Wow, I'm an idiot," he realized. "I have to call the hit off. They'll waste their energy trying to find her when we have a country to run."

Donald tried to call off the hit, but realized he couldn't, for he had once told them that his word is always final. He never set some sort of word or phrase to call off a hit.

He was screwed.