Memory's Prisoner

Chapter 12: Umbridge's Confrontation

Dolores Umbridge didn't have time to think as she ran from the Room of Requirement, little pink heels clicking furiously down the corridors. It wasn't long before she stood in front of the gargoyle that served as the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Acid Pops," she hissed, anger lacing each syllable. She rushed up the stairs and banged violently on the door.

"Come in," a cheery voice called which only served to worsen her mood.

She stormed into the office and right up to Dumbledore's desk.

"Call the heads of houses this instant."

"Now Dolores, I don't think that is entirely necessary," he began calmly before Umbridge cut him off.

"Call them or I shall do it myself! I don't have the patience for you today."

Slowly Dumbledore rose from his chair and walked towards the fireplace. When the four teachers arrived, Umbridge was pacing angrily in front of Dumbledore's desk as he watched her curiously.

"Good. You're here. Sit," she muttered, pointing to the chairs.

"Why is it that I have been called here? I'm am incredibly busy today," Snape said smoothly as he remained standing by the door rather than sitting.

"Mister Potter has unwillingly shared some rather alarming secrets and I need to know how much knowledge you all had of the events," she stated slowly, trying to calm herself down.

"What have you done to Mister Potter, Dolores," Dumbledore sighed.

"I have done nothing. According to Granger the spell Parkinson used on Potter projects the targets strongest memories."

"And what was in these memories that made you summon us?" McGonagall asked.

"The muggles Potter was raised by appear to be entirely unfit to raise a child."

"What makes you believe that? The Dursleys have a son of their own, do they not," Dumbledore asked, confused.

"Yes they do! A horrid child, really. And that son was spoiled beyond belief while Potter was forced to use a mere cupboard as a bedroom! They are atrocious people, and I demand that he be removed from that household!"

"Albus, I told they were the worst kind of muggles! Slept in a cupboard, the poor thing."

"Is that all you found, Dolores," Snape sneered still standing statue like by the door.

"Of course not. You can see the memories if that would be more efficient."

When they finished viewing the memories of Harry's childhood, Snape had nothing to say. He had always assumed the boy was spoiled, and it angered him that he was so horribly wrong.

"If you'll excuse me, I believe I will be paying a visit to Petunia Dursley now," he said icily as he opened the door.

"Don't cause her too much harm. It would be a shame to get the authorities involved," Dumbledore advised.

Snape nodded and left.

"I'm taking him, Albus," McGonagall said suddenly.

"What?"

"He is not going back to that house, and since you didn't listen to me the first time, he will be staying with me."

"Minerva, is that the best id-"

"This not up for discussion," she snapped. "I'm going to find Potter. Good day."