The Social Event of the Year
The grand halls of Malfoy Manor were alive with the sounds of laughter, music, and the occasional clink of fine china. The Manor had been transformed into a scene from a winter dream: silver icicles hung from the chandeliers, while green garlands laced with gold ribbons draped over every surface. The scent of mulled wine and roasted meats filled the air, making my stomach twist with a mix of excitement and anxiety.
I had never seen anything like this before. My heart raced with every step I took, the sight of all the elegant guests in their fine robes making me feel small, like an intruder in a world I wasn’t sure I belonged in.
Draco, of course, seemed completely at ease. His eyes sparkled with mischievous excitement as he tugged me along by the hand, his grin never faltering. He was practically bouncing on his heels, excited to be surrounded by the opulence and glamour of it all. He looked as proud as ever to be part of this world, the heir of the Malfoy name, surrounded by the finest people in the wizarding world.
“Come on, Ursa! Let’s go see everything!” he urged, his voice filled with that familiar energy that made him so hard to resist.
I glanced around the ballroom, watching as the guests mingled, each one seemingly more important than the last. I tried to mimic Draco’s enthusiasm, but inside, I felt like a fish out of water. How was I supposed to behave here? What was I supposed to say? I had spent most of my life observing the adults around me—what they wore, how they acted—but now, as we stepped into this new world, I realized I didn’t know much at all.
Draco dragged me toward a large table laden with sweets, and I couldn’t help but notice the abundance of glittering silver and crystal bowls filled with every candy imaginable. My mouth watered, but before I could grab a treat, I saw something—or rather, someone—that made my stomach twist into a tight knot.
A woman stood near the table, the sight of her instantly sending a shock down my spine. She wore an absolutely garish pink gown, the fabric shiny and horridly loud, as if it were trying too hard to be noticed. It was too stiff, too flouncy, a shade of pink so aggressively bright it could give you a headache just looking at it. The gown had lace and ribbons—oh, so many ribbons—and ridiculous bows tied in places that didn’t even make sense. Her hair was too neatly done, like it had been crimped and styled to the point of exhaustion. She wore a gigantic, glittering brooch on her chest, its size matching the absurdity of her entire ensemble. She was the most unflattering spectacle I had ever seen.
I knew her immediately—though I had never met her in this life—Dolores Umbridge.
Even at five, I could feel the memories of my previous life stirring in my mind, the image of this woman bringing with it a sense of deep, bitter hatred. She was an enemy of everything good, everything I cherished. I didn’t need to know her by name to feel that.
Draco, of course, was already making his way toward the sweets table, his focus entirely on the honey cakes and chocolates laid out in front of him. He didn’t notice her until she took a step toward us, her smile widening to a painful, too-wide expression.
“Ah, the famous Malfoy twins!” she exclaimed in a voice that was as sickly sweet as the pink monstrosity she was wearing. It made my skin crawl. “What a pleasure it is to meet you both. I’ve heard so much about your family’s great name.”
Draco puffed out his chest, clearly pleased to be acknowledged, but I stayed quiet, watching Umbridge warily. There was something about the way she looked at us, like she saw us as tools, pawns in a game she was already playing.
“I’m Dolores Umbridge,” she continued, her smile still too wide, her voice thick with the syrupy sweetness that made my stomach churn. “A pleasure to meet you.”
She then stepped forward as though we should be thrilled, her every movement stiff, like she was pretending to be more graceful than she truly was. She held out her hands to both of us, pulling two hideous, shimmering pink lollipops from a secret pocket in her gown, somehow managing to make the lollipops seem like they were treasures—when they were clearly just ridiculous.
"Here, children. A little treat. Something special just for you," she cooed, her voice a saccharine whisper that made me feel even more uncomfortable.
I froze. The moment my eyes landed on the lollipops, I felt a cold prickle on the back of my neck, a warning that I couldn’t ignore. There was something off about them—too perfect, too sweet. Even though I didn’t understand everything in my five-year-old mind, I knew one thing for sure: these candies were not meant to be a mere gesture of kindness.
Draco, blissfully unaware of my unease, took one of the lollipops and immediately unwrapped it, popping it into his mouth without a second thought.
“Come on, Ursa! Don’t be silly! It’s just a sweet,” Draco said, grinning at me.
I hesitated for only a moment before reaching out and taking the lollipop. It felt wrong, like something I shouldn’t have accepted, but I was still trying to understand the emotions swirling in my chest. At that moment, Draco’s face changed.
His eyes glazed over, his movements slower, and his grin began to slip into something less genuine. He looked dazed, like his mind had been clouded. Panic flared in my chest as I realized that something wasn’t right.
“Draco?” I signed frantically, trying to get his attention.
He blinked at me, clearly not comprehending what I was saying. He swayed slightly, and my stomach twisted.
That was when I knew for sure.
The candy wasn’t just candy. It was a compulsion potion. Dolores Umbridge had given us enchanted candy, trying to control us, trying to use us as puppets in her political game. The realization hit me like a cold wave. Umbridge had planned this from the start—she had used the lollipops to manipulate us, to get us to influence our father’s vote. In the original story, was this how she managed to snag the senior undersecretary position.
I couldn’t let this happen.
With a quick glance at Draco, still dazed and unaware, I discreetly hid the lollipop in a nearby vase on the table. I had to find Mother and Father. They needed to know what had been done.
I dashed through the crowd, the overwhelming music and chatter fading as my heart raced in my chest. My palms were sweaty, and my mind spun with the urgency of the situation. Where were they?
Finally, I found them in a quiet corner of the ballroom. They were speaking to a few other guests, but as soon as they saw me, both of their faces shifted, sensing the urgency in my eyes.
“Mother, Father,” I signed quickly, my hands trembling slightly as I communicated what had happened. “Umbridge... she gave us candy. It’s bad. Draco... he’s acting strange. She did something to him.”
Lucius’ face went pale as he understood. His eyes narrowed, the cold fury evident in his gaze. Narcissa’s expression was harder to read, but I could see the subtle tightening of her jaw, the way her posture straightened, as though she were preparing for something important.
Without wasting another second, Lucius nodded sharply. “Stay here,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “We’ll handle this.”
Narcissa, always calm, always collected, followed him without a word. I felt my pulse quicken as they strode toward the sweets table. They didn’t need to speak. Their presence alone was enough to demand attention.
When they reached Umbridge, she was still chatting with a few guests, unaware that the Malfoys were bearing down on her. But that all changed the moment Lucius spoke.
“Dolores,” he said, his voice cold. “What have you done to my children?”
Umbridge blinked, her too-wide smile faltering slightly. “I—I don’t know what you mean, Lucius,” she stammered, clearly trying to regain control. “It was just a harmless gift. A little candy, nothing more.”
“You attempted to manipulate my children,” Lucius spat, his fury simmering just beneath the surface. “You used them for your political schemes.”
Narcissa stepped forward, her chilling calm a stark contrast to the storm brewing in Lucius’ eyes. She raised her hand slowly, the movement almost unnervingly deliberate. “You think you can harm my children? You think you can manipulate them to do your bidding for the sake of your ambitions?” Her voice dropped lower, every word ice-cold. “You think you can come into my home, in front of my guests, and attempt to poison my children’s minds?”
Umbridge took a step back, her face flushing with a deep, angry red. But Narcissa wasn’t finished. Her voice was like a dagger, each word cutting deeper. “You’re a disgrace. You are beneath my family. You are nothing but an insignificant, desperate little woman with too much ambition and not enough sense. And you dared to use my children for your schemes? You’ll never see the inside of this house again. Do you understand me?”
---
Lucius took a step closer, his voice dark with the weight of his fury.
“You’ll never step foot in this manor again, Dolores,” he snarled, his usual composure shattered. “You dare to tamper with my children, and you think there will be no consequences? You’ve made a very grave mistake.”
Umbridge’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she seemed to lose all sense of control. Her face twisted into an angry, frantic mess of emotions as she sputtered, clearly trying to regain some semblance of authority.
“But, Lucius,” she stammered, “I was simply offering them a token of goodwill—”
“Goodwill?” Narcissa cut in, her voice now like the breeze of a winter storm. “Goodwill, Dolores, is what a parent offers their children, not some pink monstrosity's twisted attempt to manipulate them.”
At that moment, a ripple of unease spread through the room. Several of the guests turned their attention to the escalating confrontation, and the tension in the air thickened.
“Do you think we didn’t notice?” Narcissa continued, her voice now a venomous whisper. “You thought you could buy our children’s influence. You thought you could manipulate them with a sweet treat.” She paused, letting the silence stretch out. “But no one plays games with my family, Dolores.”
The guests around the ballroom were now hushed, watching as the Malfoys turned the whole scene into a spectacle of public shaming. Umbridge's face had turned a ghastly shade of red, but there was no way she could backpedal out of this now. Narcissa stepped even closer to her, the air around her crackling with an aura of fury that sent chills down everyone’s spine.
“I’ll make sure you never work in this world again, Dolores,” she whispered, low and sharp, like an ice pick to the heart. “I will ensure that every last person in this room—every single member of our society—knows exactly what you are: an opportunistic, repulsive parasite.”
By now, the room had grown completely silent, the guests unsure whether to run or simply watch in awe at the poison spilling from Narcissa’s lips. It was clear to everyone that this was not just a mother’s anger—it was the wrath of someone who would do anything to protect her children, and in this moment, Narcissa was utterly terrifying.
Lucius, equally incensed, took a deep breath, his eyes narrowed in deadly calm. He was the first to move, but he wasn’t done yet.
“I won’t tolerate this, Dolores,” he said, each word sharp like a blade. “Not in my home. Not with my children. You will never hold any power here, or anywhere else again. Do you understand?”
Umbridge’s hands trembled at her sides, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. But no words came out—only the sound of her own shock, her own defeat. She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could utter another word, Narcissa raised her wand with a single, graceful motion.
“Furor expulso,” Narcissa incanted, her voice quiet and unwavering.
The spell erupted in a burst of power, a swirl of shimmering light that encased Dolores Umbridge in a magical grip. With a violent yank, Umbridge was lifted off the ground, and without further ceremony, she was tossed backward, sent careening toward the door. The air around her seemed to ripple as the spell forced her out, dragging her screeching unceremoniously from the ballroom.
A few gasps rippled through the guests as they watched, stunned by the display of power. The room went deathly quiet again, save for the soft thud of the door slamming shut behind Umbridge as she was expelled from the Malfoy estate.
Lucius stepped forward, his face a mask of fury as he addressed the room. “Let it be known,” he said, his voice carrying across the now-silent crowd, “that Dolores Umbridge has made the foolish mistake of trying to manipulate my children, and for that, she will never step foot in this house again. She is finished.”
Narcissa, standing with her wand still raised, gave a subtle nod, her gaze sweeping over the room. “Anyone who dares to associate with her from this point on will find themselves equally unwelcome.”
“She’ll never bother us again,” Lucius muttered, still seething with anger.
“Of course not,” Narcissa replied with a chilling calmness. “We’ll make sure of it.”
They didn’t speak of what would happen next, but I could see it in their eyes. Dolores Umbridge had made a grave mistake—one she would never live to regret. And as far as I was concerned, I couldn’t have been more relieved.
And with that thought, I smiled inwardly. It was a fitting end for a woman who dared to travel through a blizzard.
And the Malfoys... Why their anger was colder than ice.