The Pureblood Coup

Continuation of....





Chapter Nine: Two Suns in the Sunset





An overweight, squat witch was watching this so-called “interesting man” controlling the dementors. She was feeling intense admiration for his power. She had just been given a real treat getting to watch hundreds of Dementors give out the Kiss and was feeling rather appreciative towards him. Her shoulders scrunched up in delight, her pouchy cheeks even fuller than usual, as if she was gorging on sweets.



Dolores Umbridge had stood watching the Kisses at the front of the crowd, her playful cat Patronus right in front of her for her own protection. She was still wearing the heavy golden locket of Slytherin, which of course is the Horcrux she had nicked from Mundungus Fletcher. The house-elf Pilosto had actually found Umbridge unconscious in a vacant room on the fourth floor. He had been kind enough to stay with her until she had woken up. Conveniently, she did not awaken until after Voldemort’s speech. Pilosto was the one who had escorted the possessed Umbridge outside.



She was no longer possessed as of now, but the locket was having a very unpleasant effect on her, one that she was finally, after days becoming aware of. Inwardly, she was debating if she should stop wearing the locket. Yet Umbridge was afraid to take it off, as she liked to wear it as a marker of proof, however false that she was pureblood.



“Who is that interesting, most cultured man of class? Who IS he?!,” Umbridge muttered to herself now, still standing in the crowd, in which there was only about a hundred guests brave enough to stay. Everyone else had left. Ten had departed the property altogether. The remaining several hundred had taken up whatever grand entertainment was being offered inside the palace.



Umbridge continued to watch the strange man control the dementors, as he directed them to circle the outskirts of the property.



Voldemort was like Satan, with his cape spread like huge wings and his profile ephemeral in the twilight. He came closer to the garden, passing the lake and descended in front of everyone, until he landed, lightly.



Now that he was so much closer, Umbridge could see the man’s pearly-white complexion glowing in the twilight. There could be no mistaking the mask-like, skull-like face of Lord Voldemort.



And at recognition of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the crazed bureaucrat from the ministry, lost her head completely. She screamed a yelp of surprise, but there was so much mayhem going on, nobody cared to notice her. Except Draco, who was coming out of the fen with the Death Eaters looking glum. But at the sight of his former so-called Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, he brightened up, pointing a finger and laughing at the comical sight. Meanwhile, all the Death Eaters were busy drying and scourgifying their clothing, as the trip in the fen had got their ceremonial robes wet.



She continued to yelp, as she turned tail and ran, with continuous cries of, “Oh…Oh…Oh!,”



Down below, at people’ feet little magical creatures from the lake called Imps were running loose. They scuttled on the damp earth, kicking at people’s ankles. The Imps spotted the short, fat legs of Dolores Umbridge, still trying her best to make a run for it. They caught up with her easily.



Umbridge tripped over the tiny creatures so blind with fright, she could not think of what they could be. She continued to fall and get back up again, all the while groaning.

Frantic with fright, she tore through the house, fleeing like a maniac from Voldemort’s presence. She wanted nothing to do with him.