Summers were always her favourite time, returning home to the shire and meeting with her brother’s muggle school friend Edward. It meant lazy days spent in a hammock between trees alongside her friend. Tree stumps became thrones. Fallen trees tables for tea as quickly as they became counters or even conveyor belts. Where she loved magic, Edward brought to life a world she had little knowledge of despite having a muggle mother and a squib brother.
Life at home was heavy for her. For years, her mother had let her run amok, happy to allow her to be herself, but things changed when her letter to Hogwarts came in the mail. Where she’d preferred pants and clothing items of comfort, her father now insisted on skirts and dresses. The nights out and games played with the local children came to an abrupt end.
The years of whimsy were replaced by duty and a need to prove herself. Her father was off mingling with the parents of her Slytherin peers. He’d gotten worse about everything ever since he’d begun to meet with other parents. At home, his temper was shorter, especially with her mother and brother.
She knew her time with Edward was limited, even without her mother telling her as much. With her head against his shoulder she smiled lightly, pretending everything was fine. “Did I tell you that I liked your dress?” he asked, his voice gentle.
There was something about the blond boy that was soft—some days, she envied him, the simplicity of his life. “Do you?” she peered up. She wanted to like it, but it was one of the replacements her father had placed in her room for her. Another gift she had no desire for. Just like the curling charm he’d cast on her hair. It took forever to care for it and make things as simple as sleep a nightmare. “Mhmm,” he sounded, his fingers tracing small circles on her shoulder.
She gave a small smile. At school, she wasn’t beautiful by any means. Quite the contrary. She felt mousy and faded easily into the back. She didn’t mind it. Being a half-blood in Slytherin was enough of a target. There were worse things than not garnering attention.
“It would look better in pink,” he said. “But green suits you,” he tried to smile. “Sorry, I’m not…I mean, you’re pretty,” he continued quietly.
And before she knew it his lips were on hers.
At first, she wanted to protest, to push him away, but he was so warm. It took a moment before she closed her eyes, leaning into the exchange. Before she knew it, she held his cheeks, smiling against his lips, and then everything went incredibly wrong.
“Daddy, no!” she yelled from the ground, reaching out her hand as if she could prevent her father’s wrath.
He ignored her, his back to her as he doubled onto Edward. She expected a great many things, but before she could protest, her father finally turned towards her. “Get back home. I’m going to have a chat with your friend.” There was something final in her father’s words, and though she imagined the worst, she knew better than to bring his anger on her. He’d threatened to break her wand once. Had nearly succeeded too, but its shortness had saved her from the devastation he’d promised.
She nodded, only risking a small smile to her beau once her father’s ire was back on the blond. Edward was too soft to ever stand up to her father.
***
By nightfall, her father returned alone. Dolores settled in her bed. She’d already made so many changes to please her father. What was one more? Just another. Another to be the good daughter she could be, to help ease the tension that was placed on her mother and brother. She could keep them all together if she was demure enough, and kept to her own devices. No more boys, no more muggle boys especially.
The words were already on her tongue as she held the covers up to her chin. It didn’t change the way the walls shook from his slamming the door. “YOU LEFT HER UNSUPERVISED?!” Her mother’s response was too soft-spoken. Ellen never rose her voice. It was unbecoming. Whatever she said, Dolores knew it wasn’t what her father had wanted to hear.
She winced at the resounding smack she heard. A soft thud told her her mother had likely let herself fall to the ground.
Dolores closed her eyes as though she might be able to wish the sound away.
***
Dolores kept to her promise, avoiding the clearing in the woods. By now she’d half expected a note passed through her brother, but her father had made it clear she needed to stay clear of her brother and mother. She didn’t want them hurt, didn’t want to risk them, not when all seemed forgiven within a fortnight. As though her father had heard her prayers. She could be good. She swore she could be.
Turning the corner, she made her way to the small main street with a few shops. A look through the grocer wouldn’t be bad would it? If Edward happened to be stocking shelves, she couldn’t very well control his schedule could she?
Dolores had a pink bow in her hair, and did her best to look as gentle and sweet as her father wanted her to be. She cleared her throat in a manner she hoped would be soft, but it never sounded quite right. Not the way her mother could make it sound.
“Can I help you?” the boy she’d come to know so intimately said.
“You can drop the act, Ed. I’m alone,” she said with a small girlish giggle. Boys liked such things, or so she’d been told on countless occasions.
“I think you’ve got me confused,” the boy said, the warmth that normally filled his icy blue hues replaced by a chill she had never experienced.
Dolores blinked. “Edward, it’s me, Dolly,” she said more pressingly.
“Listen, I don’t know you, and what’s with all the pink?”
She felt her throat dry, and her eyes water. “Was it the kiss?”
“I need to work,” he said with a shrug, walking away.
That night, Dolores ran home and fell into her father’s arms. Her body raked as she openly sobbed, feeling utterly defeated. Her first kiss. Her first friend. And for what? The moment things got too complicated, the boy acted as if they’d never met instead of just being honest. She told her father as much, not even caring about his ire. Let him make her feel the way she did.
“It’s not his fault,” her father soothed, petting through her locks. “Muggles are fickle that way. They promise everything, but when they know…when things become complicated, they leave,if you’re lucky. At worst, they destroy you. Look at your mother,” he began. “She couldn’t even give your brother a lick of magic. But you, princess, you have everything, and they’ll never understand your true potential.”
Dolores sniffed and looked up to her father. For once, what he was saying made sense. Perhaps he hadn’t quite been the monster she’d depicted. Perhaps he understood something she hadn’t been ready to acknowledge.
“I do?”
“Why do you think I’m so hard on your darling?” he asked, tucking a curl away. “Go wash up. We can talk over dinner. I’d like to tell you about our ancestors and all their knowledge can offer…”
***
The Slytherin common room was eerily quiet. Dolores sat in the corner, listening as the latest bought of drama unfolded. A soft smile played on her lips as Regulus’ face fell to the side, a handprint reddening on his cheek. No one knew she was at fault for the outburst of the witch in question. No one would ever question it. There was power in being underestimated, especially when toying with the Purebloods.
Her father had taught her well, but she’d learned so much in the vipers' nest. Much more than could be instilled. She allowed herself these rebellious moments. Blamed them on the fact that her mother was a muggle—the need to make others pay, especially the Purebloods so eager to hoard magic at all costs. Edward wasn’t the only one who could break hearts.
Dolores listened as a handful of students discussed the infidelity. Not that it ever happened. Wherever Regulus Black liked to sneak off to, she couldn’t care less. It beat watching the Marauders' drama unfold.
When the crowd dispersed, she neared the boy.
“Hey, you okay?” she asked, tucking a strand behind her ear, concern etched on her brow.
“Yeah,” he ran a hand through his hair. “You know how they get,” he shrugged.
She hummed and nodded her head. “Yeah, they can be quite vicious,” she offered gently.
He turned to look at her, actually paying attention to the witch before him. “You’re in my…”
“All of your classes,” she forced a smile, digging dimples into her cheeks. “Right, I’ll just…”
“No, wait, sorry,” Regulus amended, catching her hand. “Let’s try this again. I’m Regulus Black.”
“Dolores Umbridge,” she offered reluctantly. “And I’m not looking for pity.”
“Good, because neither am I.”
***
Befriending a Black had speared her up the ranks without doing much for her reputation. She hadn’t magically become part of the key players, but she had access. Though she was invited to most events, she hardly fit in. This didn’t stop Dolores from trying, and though she still wasn’t sure how she felt about Regulus, she hadn’t rejected his attempts at friendship. Her father approved of it for one, but the closer together they got, the more he pressed to hang out with her outside of school.
Dolores stormed through her childhood home, throwing herself onto her bed with a dramatic scream into her pillow.
“What is it, princess?” her father’s voice was low.
She breathed in deeply and sat up on her bed. “My friend wants to visit,” she said, her features impassible.
“What’s the problem?”
“My reputation is at stake. I can’t invite Regulus Black here, with them…”
“Ah,” his voice sounded, and whatever edge of warning he’d held seemed to dissipate. “You’re descended from the Selwyn’s. There’s no shame in…”
“Which is fine until he comes here,” she looked around as if something in her room might bring offence.
“I think I can help,” he stood and offered her his hand. “Do you trust me?”
Dolores paused and extended her hand, pausing before settling her smaller fingers in his. “Of course I do, father.”
Together, they made their way down the stairs. “I wasn’t sure you’d ever be ready, princess, but I think it’s time, don’t you?” he drawled, sauntering to the landing beside her.
Looking up, she blinked. “Ready for what?” she asked.
“To tell Ellen and her son to leave,” he purred. “You know as well as I that they’ve served their purpose. They’re just holding you back now…”