On The Hunt: Chapter 30 (Patreon)

The French dignitaries had left hours ago but Cornelius Fudge was still reeling under the aftershocks of that meeting. He sat in his office, shaking in rage and helplessness, all alone with nobody to advise or console him, with a bloody roll of parchment on his table that stared mockingly at him.

That veela girl’s disappearance needed to have the most emphasis for him right now, yet he could not bring himself to think about that matter right now.

Lucius Malfoy, his most ardent and dare he say, most trustworthy supporter, was dead — killed in his own house with his associates by none other than his own wife.

Cornelius could only stare at the words traced on that accursed parchment that all but wrote the epilogue of his ministerial tenure. He knew Lucius’ backing was the primary reason why he still held office and now that he was dead, the vultures would start circling.

Truth be told, they had started circling over his head a while ago. Potter and Dumbledore had begun laying the groundwork all the way back in June and every event that had unfolded in the months that had followed did nothing but further worsen his standing in the ministry. He found himself losing every bout against them, his options had disappeared one after the other, and people he believed he could count on were nowhere to be seen now.

Amelia Bones was one whom Dolores had pointed out to him a while ago. The woman was shrewd and ambitious, which made her a potential rival for the seat of the minister and her true colors were blatant to him in that meeting with the French.

She had been blatantly opposed to his position, no matter the discussion, and although he had hoped that she would cast her ambition aside and present a united front against their common enemies, it seemed he had expected too much of her as well.

Cornelius seethed as he shoved the parchment away, his hands holding his head as he sat helplessly. He glanced over at the clock on the table. It had been two hours since he had sent a summons for Dolores and yet there was no response from her. He knew she was not dead or grievously injured. For all his fallacies, lethal attacks were not how Dumbledore operated, which meant either their means of conversation had been cut off or… Merlin forbid… Dolores had realized how deep the waters she found herself in were and had absconded, leaving him to fend off the scraps.

His grip on his robes tightened as his wide, unseeing eyes stared listlessly at the table, thoughts running a million miles a minute, ideas and propositions being considered and discarded right off the bat.

He could not think. He could not sit still. He could barely breathe or make sense of what was around him. However, there was something he could feel — he could distinctly feel the walls that were slowly but surely closing around him.

Meanwhile, whatever was left of his close circle was yet to wake up from the sheer torture they had been put through.

Dolores Umbridge shivered, sprawled on the hard stone floor of the History of Magic office, as her mind was assaulted once again with what she had put those children through. Every torture, every humiliation, and every abuse those innocents had suffered at her hands was now being mentally inflicted on her in repetitive droves, sending phantom pain of both the physical and mental kind on her body and mind.

The brain decided how to respond to the stimuli it received, associating something as pain or pleasure, and with the dark spell Harry had cast on her, every act of depravity she had committed on those children was being inflicted on her and her brain was recognizing everything in real-time while responding accordingly.

Hours had passed with no respite and Dolores Umbridge had long lost sense of where she was, what she was supposed to do, and even why she was where she was. She desperately kept clinging to what remained of her sanity, unconscious yet resolute in her desperation to not forget herself as well, but she could feel it all slipping away.

She had no recollection of how she found herself in this godforsaken situation or why it was happening to her. All she could do was shiver uncontrollably as she felt unsolicited hands or vile contraptions crawling over her flabby skin, invading where there should be no intrusion. Uncontrollable tears slithered down her pudgy cheeks, saliva trickled out of her mouth as she lay on her side, pooling on the floor beneath her as Umbridge kept suffering silently.

No one came to look for her. No one came to her aid. No one remained aware of the situation she found herself in. The History of Magic corridor remained silent throughout the weekend as everyone forgot the existence of the detestable excuse of a human being that was Dolores Jane Umbridge.

XXXXX

Antoine Delacour parted ways with his daughter, niece, and who would one day be his son-in-law after a few hours of merriment during which they enjoyed the downfall of Fudge’s administration and the newly agreed union of Harry and Gabrielle.

The man had no demands as such. Only his daughter’s happiness and respect mattered — both of which he firmly believed she would find with the young man she had chosen for herself.

The veela inside his girl would not have agreed otherwise.

Nothing was official yet though. He knew how things worked, and even though they were all of age, he was supposed to discuss this matter with the current Lord Black since his Gabrielle was to be the lady of that house.

It was irony at its finest, he supposed. The Blacks were notorious for their belief in the purity of blood and their superiority as a wizarding clan. It was well known the derision they had for those they did not deem pure. And now, here they were. A veela was going to be the lady of that once-mighty and oh-so-prideful wizarding family.

Antoine chuckled as he thought about how those pricks must be rolling in their graves right now.

The Blacks might have been rotten to the core, but it seemed they had succeeded in producing three worthy offspring. Both Harry and Daphne had nothing but words of praise for Sirius Black and his cousin Andromeda Tonks and he was inclined to take them at face value. His inclination was further bolstered by the fact that Cyrus was also good friends with both the Blacks and if his cousin trusted them, then so did he.

The other was Narcissa Malfoy who, if he had gotten it right, had finally had enough of her husband and his vile way of living. He could only sympathize with the poor woman who must have been through hell throughout these years with that Death Eater until she was left with no choice but to take matters into her own hands.

On the whole, he believed that his role here for the time being in Britain was almost fulfilled. He had been asked to put international pressure on Fudge’s administration so that the downfall could begin smoothly and from what he had observed in that meeting, it seemed they had already achieved their objective. The rest was out of his hands.

Overall though, he believed he had much more left to contribute. He had promised his aid to Cyrus in the war that was undoubtedly coming, and now, he had multiple motivations to go along with what he believed to be right. One of his daughters had been tortured because of a Death Eater and the other would be embroiled in the heat of this war. It was unfathomable for him to stay out of the conflict.

He had provided diplomatic aid for now, but when the time came, his wand would stand ready.

XXXXX

“And here we are,” Daphne smiled as the door to the Room of Requirement closed behind them. Gabrielle wasted no time and pulled the cloak off herself, handing it over to Harry who put it away.

“Back to being a prisoner, yippee,” The veela replied sarcastically.

“Look at the spoiled brat. Has a wonder room that can do virtually anything and is still complaining,” Daphne snarked with a poke to her ribs. A giggling Gabrielle jerked away toward Harry who caught her with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around her slender frame.

“You’d know a lot about being a spoiled brat, won’t you, Daffy?” Gabrielle teased. “Miss I-got-a-pink-doll-but-I-wanted-a-blue-one-so-I-threw-it-away.”

“Oh wow,” Harry snorted. “That’s I think the longest one I’ve ever heard. Thinking of giving Dumbledore a run for his galleons, Daffy?”

Before Harry could react, the blonde jumped him, taking both him and Gabrielle down with her. The floor cushioned, absorbing the impact as they fell on their backs side by side with Daphne sitting right on top of them with one knee on either of their stomachs. The blonde glared menacingly at the surprised pair staring up at her with wide eyes before they grunted as Daphne applied more force, sinking her knees in their bellies.

“Call me that ever again and you two are done,” she whispered, leaning over to sink her fingernails in their necks, her eyes blazing.

Harry had the audacity to smile at that, which prompted more force on his belly, making him gasp.

“Did I make myself clear, mister?”

“Perfectly,” he wheezed.

“Good,” Daphne whispered and quickly stole a kiss from him as she jumped off, standing with her head held high in front of them. “Be sure to mind your tongues from now on, morons.”

Harry glanced to the side and exchanged a glance with Gabrielle whose eyes were shining with mirth. Maintaining a poker face, Harry turned back to Daphne and gazed at her.

“Daph,” he called out, making the blonde raise her eyebrow in question. Harry’s lips quirked in amusement as he continued, “I guess purple lace is my favorite now.”

Daphne’s brows furrowed before her eyes widened in shock and she yelped, jumping back abruptly as Harry and Gabrielle pushed themselves upright, smirking. The blonde quickly grabbed her skirt and held it as close to herself as possible, glaring.

“Nice choice, Daph,” Gabrielle teased. “Didn’t know you were so… risqué though.”

The glare only intensified.

“Now you know how it feels when you’re double-teamed on, eh?” Harry called out with a smirk as he pushed himself to his feet and helped Gabrielle up. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

Daphne’s pout was irresistible and with a chuckle, Harry reached out and wrapped his arms around her. The blonde remained motionless, keeping her face away from him as Harry held her to himself.

“Now, Daph… You asked for it. That’s what you get for jumping us like that,” Harry smiled.

“Technically counts as domestic abuse,” Gabrielle quipped. Exasperated, Harry glanced over at her, only to find an unapologetic shrug from the veela. “Fine. No abuse. It was simple, harmless fun. Right, Daph?”

“You were always a headache, Gabby,” Daphne replied with a sigh. “And I have no doubt that you’ll be a huge migraine now.”

Her remark earned her nothing but another obnoxious laugh from the veela who reached out and pinched her cheek.

“Only the best for my cousin,” she grinned before her voice took on a suggestive tone as she winked at both her and Harry. “And soon to be sister-wife.”

Harry jerked when he felt a hand pinch his arse and he spied the epitome of innocence that was Gabrielle Delacour smiling sweetly at them. Daphne merely had an unimpressed look on her face as she gazed at her cousin and indeed, soon-to-be sister-wife.

“You know what, Daph?” Harry muttered, pulling both women firmly to himself. “I believe you’re spot on. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want both of you in my life.”

Gabrielle merely smirked.

XXXXX

They left Gabrielle in the Room of Requirement after spending some time together. Harry and Daphne walked arm-in-arm down the staircase and into the corridor that led to the courtyard outside. It was evening already and the grounds were lit up with lamps. A few students were lounging about, chatting and they spied some young students playing Gobstones.

They were about to walk outside when a firm call made them pause in their steps.

Harry and Daphne turned as one and came face to face with a stoic Severus Snape who emerged from an alcove. Lips pursed, the couple stared at the greasy-haired man who regarded them with thinly veiled contempt.

“Follow me,” Snape drawled and without waiting for a response, he turned around and began walking at a sedate pace, his black robes billowing behind him.

Harry and Daphne exchanged a loaded glance and the latter nodded with pursed lips. Arms threaded together, they followed Snape to where he was taking them and they were surprised to see it was one of the abandoned classrooms. The man stood by the open door, his stoic gaze fixated upon them as he gestured with his head toward the room.

As Harry and Daphne stepped inside the room, they were surprised to see all their allies gathered inside with Dumbledore sitting in a chair. The old wizard had a weary look on his face as he regarded them. Harry and Daphne walked in and joined their allies who all stood defiantly as Snape shut and sealed the door before joining them.

“It has come to our attention that you all were complicit in an act of the most heinous kind,” Dumbledore began, his expression grave as he regarded every student in front of him before he finally landed his gaze on the couple standing in the middle. “Now I am aware of the reasons that compelled you to take such a step and allow me to make myself clear. I do not dismiss those reasons.”

Everyone remained silent and while the two professors were stoic, their students had defiance written on their faces.

Dumbledore regarded them sadly and a weary sigh forced its way out of him.

“It has been made clear to me verbally that expecting apology or remorse from you would be a fruitless endeavor,” he whispered.

There were a few twitches and grimaces visible on a few select faces now and Dumbledore did not miss those changes either given how he chose to focus on those individuals for a second or two. Neville pursed his lips and averted his eyes.

“I am aware that all of you are adults and deserving of making your decisions without any influence on my part or anyone else’s,” Dumbledore continued. “You have made a massive decision today. One that is going to have a far-reaching impact, not only on how this upcoming war might go but also on your very lives, for it was not a small decision you took last night.”

“Look the headmaster in the eye at least if you had the guts to be involved in a murder, Longbottom,” Snape chided derisively, his disgusted glance at Neville prompting a bristling glare from Tracey. “Or are you having regrets now? Too late, isn’t it?”

Neville remained silent, and so did everyone else. For a few seconds, at least.

“I assume you saw the memories we shared with you, Headmaster, Professor Snape?” Daphne called out pointedly, earning a pained look from the old wizard. Snape’s fists clenched, his jaw set firmly as he eyed her with thin lips and an emotionless look in his eyes.

“Allow me to ask you something then, Headmaster, Professor Snape,” Harry took over, standing tall and proud. “Do people like those deserve to breathe the same air as everyone else? What would you have done in such a scenario? What would you have done, if you found their true face, and then you discovered that they KILLED THOSE LITTLE KIDS LIKE CATTLE AND LEFT THEIR ROTTING CORPSES FOR VERMIN TO FEED ON?”

Daphne clenched Harry’s hands tightly, feeling how his grip on her hand was just as firm as hers. Both were breathing heavily, their faces set in disgusted glares as they gazed at the two professors in front of them.

Snape had nothing to say. He kept his eyes trained firmly ahead, staring at nothing while Dumbledore gazed at Harry with sadness apparent in his gaze.

“Nobody can say that your actions were unfounded. Nobody can say that they did not deserve what they got. But the truth remains the same. You committed murder last night, and it is not a burden I wanted any of you to bear,” Dumbledore sighed. “I truly hoped it didn’t come to this.”

“Well, that is unfortunate, but that is a burden we will be bearing from now on,” Harry said firmly, his eyes hardening. “And if it disappoints you, Headmaster, then I hope you would be prepared for more disappointments in the future, because we won’t stop until all those vile excuses of human beings are wiped off the face of our society!”

A terse silence enveloped the gathering in his wake and Harry kept his eyes firmly locked with Dumbledore, full of conviction. At last, Dumbledore let out a deep breath and stood up.

“I do not condone murder, Harry. Had they been killed in battle, it would have been understandable. But I can see you all have chosen your path going forward. I only hope you have what it takes to face the demons that will be coming your way should you continue on this endeavor. You will need all the strength you can muster.”

Harry nodded curtly and watched Dumbledore as he slowly stood up and regarded them.

“We found Dolores and she has been sent to the Hospital Wing. I’m afraid her situation looks quite bleak and the Ward 49 at Saint Mungo’s might gain another permanent resident soon,” the old wizard remarked.

A satisfied smirk tugged at the corners of everyone’s lips, three in particular. Harry, Daphne, and Tracey, standing together, exchanged glances before they turned back to Dumbledore who resumed speaking after a few seconds.

“Furthermore, the Malfoy family is now extinct, but it does not mean Mr. Malfoy does not have anyone to perform his final rites. I would like you to give his body to Professor Snape here who will see to it.”

A sneer tugged at the corner of Harry’s lips as he regarded the Potions master. Beside him, Daphne sported an even more disgusted look as she gazed at her Head of House.

“As much as that cunt doesn’t deserve anything but for his carcass to be covered in hippogriff shit and thrown in a ditch somewhere, I understand the sentiments certain people might have for him,” Harry spat, meeting Snape’s glare with a fierce one of his own. He turned to Dumbledore and nodded firmly.

The old wizard sighed and with a parting nod, he turned around and walked out of the room. Everyone stared at him as he exited and once he was out of the room, Snape slowly turned back to the group of gathered students.

“You still think he should’ve lived, don’t you?” Harry shook his head dispassionately, his face one of disgust. “I can see how angry you are with us right now. I can see how much you want to curse us all, me especially.”

“Believe me, Potter,” Snape drawled. “If I truly wanted to do something, I would’ve done it before you could’ve even thought about it.”

Snape regarded the group with thinly-veiled contempt and his lips curled.

“I mourn the child that Draco once was, not the vile creature his father turned him into,” the man continued. “And I am angry on behalf of that young child. A young child who was brainwashed from the start. A young child who never had a choice. The reasons behind his and Lucius’ murder, and even what has happened to that Umbridge woman can only make a sadistic psychopath sympathize with them.”

Lips pursed, Harry glanced to the side. “Cho and the chasers will take you to Malfoy’s body.”

With a sneer, Snape turned around to walk away.

“Professor,” the voice of Daphne Greengrass made Snape pause and he listened without turning around. “Everyone has a choice. They simply need to have the desire and the courage to make it. Our choices make us who we are. Malfoy made his choices, just as Sirius did, and just as you once did. You are free to believe whatever you want but don’t expect the others to ever think he didn’t have a choice.”

Snape’s fists were clenched on the fabric of his robes as he stared straight ahead toward the closed door and he merely jerked his head in acknowledgment. Without waiting for another second, he walked straight ahead and out of the abandoned classroom.

“Ladies,” Harry said in disdain. “Just show him that carcass and be done with. We’ve got much more important tasks at hand.”

The group watched Cho and the Gryffindor Chasers walk out of the room and Harry turned around. His eyes fell on Neville for a moment and he raised an eyebrow, earning a small nod in return.

“We’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Harry said and walked with Daphne out of the room.

XXXXX

The noose was being tightened around Fudge’s neck and they had no intention of letting up.

Cornelius Fudge arrived at Hogwarts huffing and puffing with a squadron of aurors accompanied by the Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour, his demeanor one of ire and panic. He could not fathom that Dolores had been a victim of a spell damage of such magnitude that there were talks of sending her to the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo’s.

He barged into the infirmary, banging the doors open, and startling all the occupants inside.

Madam Pomfrey and two of her assistant trainee healers turned around abruptly and the former looked damn pissed.

“Minister! This in an infirmary! What is the meaning of this!?” She asked, aghast, as the aurors filed in, flanking the Minister for Magic who was glaring at the healer.

“Where is Dolores, Healer?”

“I’m afraid she is restricted from seeing anyone,” Madam Pomfrey replied, gesturing toward the bed with curtains drawn around it. Fudge glanced over and gulped audibly.

“Tell me everything,” he ordered with gritted teeth. Lips pursed, Madam Pomfrey obliged and Fudge’s face slowly lost all color.

“H-How did this h-happen?” He whispered.

“I believe that is for the aurors to find out, Minister,” Madam Pomfrey replied in a curt voice as she presented a sealed box. His face set in confusion, Fudge reached forward and took it. As he opened it, his brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. It took a close analysis on his part and his eyes bugged out.

“To me, it seems Madam Umbridge tried to cast a spell with that damaged wand that caused this. There has already been such a case recorded in recent history when Gilderoy Lockhart tried to cast a memory charm with a broken wand which backfired and wiped out all his memories. He has since been a permanent resident of the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo’s. From my analysis of Madam Umbridge so far, her situation seems as severe, if not more.”

Fudge barely heard anything. He kept staring unblinkingly at the chipped wand that looked perfectly fine at first glance but when one looked closely, it was impossible to miss the severe damage along its surface. A damn fissure was visible through the wood, for Merlin’s sake.

“Minister?” Madam Pomfrey prompted with a raised eyebrow when the man stood motionless.

“You mean to tell me Dolores was foolish enough to not notice such severe damages on her wand and she even tried to cast a spell that did this to her?” Fudge whispered, his voice carrying an undercurrent of rage to it. His blazing eyes glared at Madam Pomfrey who stared back with wide eyes. “Do you take me for a simpleton, Healer!? There is no way I’d ever believe that! Someone did this to her, and let me make myself clear here. You can try to hide it all you want, but I will get to the truth. You have my word.”

Madam Pomfrey was not one to budge and she stood tall, glaring defiantly at the Minister. Her two assistants stared at the spectacle in front of them in fascination and she had no doubts that it would all become public very soon. It was not as if she was in any mood to hide this either. The entire school could hear it for all she cared.

“You have all the right to initiate an investigation and you will have my professional assistance,” the healer replied in disdain. “But this is my infirmary and Minister or not, your presence here right now is neither wanted, nor needed. Please show yourself out and consult with the Headmaster on how you would like to proceed. Thank You.”

Fudge sneered at the healer as he handed the sealed box over to the auror nearest to him. With a parting disdainful glance toward Madam Pomfrey, he turned on his heel and walked out of the infirmary.

A few of the aurors who had fond memories of the resident healer of Hogwarts gave her apologetic looks that were nonchalantly dismissed by the woman who watched them leave as well.

“Looks like the Minister’s in a lot of pressure,” Madam Pomfrey remarked. “Make sure to give him a Calming Draught before he leaves the castle.”

Her assistants nodded as she busied herself with her work once again. The Headmaster and others could handle the Minister and his tantrums for all she cared.

XXXXX

Dumbledore had arrived in his office only minutes ago, still contemplating the meeting with Harry and his allies as he sat in his chair when he sensed his guest, or rather, guests who had finally decided to grace him with their presence. He knew this would happen after they found Umbridge.

He quickly put the meeting from some time ago out of his mind and prepared himself for what was about to come.

The door opened and as expected, an irate Fudge entered his office followed by a few aurors and Rufus Scrimgeour.

“Cornelius, Rufus, please have a seat.”

“Cease with the useless formalities, Dumbledore. We’re not here to exchange pleasantries,” Fudge blustered, choosing to remain standing.

Scrimgeour, who was already moving to take a seat, paused in his steps. With a frown, he stepped back and retook his position beside Fudge. Dumbledore cast an amused glance over at the man who stared back in exasperation.

Rufus Scrimgeour was not one in their circle of allies within the auror force but he was not a bad person either. He simply played by the books and it was evident that just like everyone else, he was not too fond of Fudge and his antics either.

“All right, Cornelius,” Dumbledore sighed. “How may I help you?”

Fudge sneered at the Headmaster of Hogwarts. “You may begin by handing over the person who did that to my Undersecretary, and if you are behind it, then you better turn yourself in lest it gets ugly.”

Dumbledore gave Fudge an unimpressed look.

“Threats, Cornelius?”

“Given what’s been happening, are you really surprised?” Fudge asked with a hiss.

Dumbledore could see how much pressure the man was under and how cornered he must be feeling. It was no surprise that he had resorted to making rash decisions. The man had no evidence and yet he was making threats. There were numerous ways to spin this in their favor but Dumbledore resisted.

No matter what anyone else said, he knew Fudge was not evil. He was greedy, he was misguided, he was cowardly, and he was impatient, but that did not make him evil. Contrary to what the man believed, he did not consider him his enemy. None of them did.

‘Although Harry might not agree considering everything,’ he thought. ‘And that means his close allies as well.’

Dumbledore was under no delusions now that Harry had a separate circle of his own which significantly differed from his, both in composition and ideals, and he could tolerate it as long as their goals aligned. They had started having their differences lately but that did not mean there were issues between them. It needed to remain as such if they wanted to conquer the one true enemy that was Voldemort.

“Allow me to impart an advice on you, Cornelius. You have the Head Auror and a big enough auror force with you. You are free to carry out an investigation into what happened to Dolores Umbridge. You will have my aid throughout the investigation.”

Fudge sneered and opened his mouth to retort but he was beaten to it.

“If I may, Minister,” Rufus Scrimgeour interjected, interrupting Fudge who eyed the man out of the corner of his eye. “The Headmaster speaks correctly. We should carry out the investigation into the affairs and I am certain that we would uncover the truth.”

There were a few seconds of terse silence as Fudge glared at Dumbledore, his teeth gritted at the sight of the calm and composed man sitting in front of him.

Fudge leaned forward, his palms resting on the tabletop as he stared at Dumbledore.

“There will be a thorough investigation, and when this culprit is found, I will make sure they’re given the Dementor’s Kiss. That is my promise, Dumbledore,” he hissed. Dumbledore bowed his head in acquiescence.

“The judiciary’s decision should be upheld as always,” he nodded. “Madam Umbridge’s office and classroom has been frozen in stasis since the moment we found her a few hours ago. The aurors can begin their investigation whenever they want.”

“I believe we should get started right away,” Scrimgeour nodded and turned to his aurors. He began barking instructions and led the aurors out, shutting the office door behind him.

Dumbledore was left with Fudge in his office. The latter eyed the old wizard with unhidden contempt as he glared furiously.

“You lot might think you’ve won, Dumbledore. You might think I’m alone and defeated. But I’ll never let you win. I know what you’re after and at one time, I might have endorsed you for the position of Minister myself, but now… after you’ve stooped so low… You’ll become Minister over my dead body.”

Dumbledore merely sighed in disappointment as he gazed at the irate man standing in front of him.

“And still, you do not understand that I have no interest in your chair, Cornelius. I have told you time and again about the true threat and you still let the words of a dead man hold sway over you.”

“Have care how you speak of Lucius, Dumbledore,” Fudge hissed. “He was a true friend until the end. Something that can shamefully never be said about you.”

Dumbledore eyed the man who spat to the side and walked inside the fireplace. The emerald hue of swirling flames shone through as he vanished from his office.

The aurors would’ve already reached Umbridge’s office by now and he was sure that they would soon discover everything that woman would’ve wanted to hide. Cornelius thought he would find evidence in favor of his Undersecretary. He was going to be sorely disappointed when the aurors presented evidence incriminating her instead.

To be continued…