The investigation of the accused death eaters had been going on for days. Some sang like canaries, some said nothing, and others got off by their families paying off officials. Umbridge never said that she would take a bribe, but for most of the pureblood families she tended to side on the sympathetic choice. At worst they were doing what they thought was best for the wizarding world. The tricky one came with Barty Crouch Jr.
His story wasn’t that different from the others. He pleaded not guilty and sobbed when put up on the stand. He was in his early 20s at the oldest and seemed more like a scared child than any kind of death eater like the Lestranges. There was proof of him tampering with ministry paperwork, but no more than what she’d done before of confusing marriage certificates when some pureblood wanted to sully their good name with a mudblood. If it went any deeper he covered his tracks well.
A recess had been called. Despite some concerns, Crouch Snr stayed on the counsel, debating with the rest of them.
“He’s just a boy, surely he doesn’t deserve to go to Azkaban,” one member proposed.
“There’s not enough proof under normal circumstances to sentence him,” another chimed in. Crouch’s face was red and scrunched, like a tomato left in the sun too long.
“This isn’t normal circumstances!” he bellowed, his fists banging onto the table. “He has the mark, that should be enough,” the group continued to argue. Dolores watched the madness for a minute.
“Hem Hem,” she gave her fake cough and the crowd slowly turned to her. “It seems to me that although it might be hard to get definitive proof of Crouch Jr’s misdeeds, his father is certain that he is guilty. I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement. Crouch’s brow furrowed even further.
“And what are you proposing, Umbridge?” he growled.
“I’m saying we provide the votes for making sure your son learns his lesson, and for each person that votes in favor, you’ll owe a favor too,” she explained cheerfully, as if it was divvying up a book report and not condemning a 20 year old to a life in a prison where the guards literally suck the happiness out of you. “Or perhaps some would prefer a more physical incentive,”
“Umbridge! You’re not suggesting he bribe us?!” an inquisitor gasped.
“Of course not,” she replied, “That would be illegal. I’m just reminding everyone that deals are made in courtrooms all the time. Why should this one be any different? And it would be in Mr. Crouch’s best interest to work with the rest of the committee. Especially sense I could argue that his view is less to due to evidence and more to his failing as a father,” The last line seemed to force Crouch to calm down slightly. As much as he was irked by the lady in pink’s dig, Umbridge knew she had a point.
“We can discuss what you would like us to assist with later,” he huffed, sinking into his chair. Umbridge’s toad like smile spread further across her face.
“Wonderful,” she said.
“The committee finds Bartemius Crouch Junior guilty of sedition in the first degree,” Crouch Senior announced. His son crumpled on the floor.
“Please, father! You can’t do this!” He wailed, tears pouring down his face. The toad-like smile never left Dolores’s face as the aurors grabbed the young man and dragged him away. He screamed and cried, but it fell on deaf ears. Crouch Snr’s shoulders sagged in defeat as the doors closed behind his son.
“There, there Crouch,” she patted him on the back. “We’ll discuss a bill that will be going through in the upcoming months later,”
14 Years Later
Dolores went to a meeting with some of the Death Eaters. Most were wearing their masks to cover their identities. Some were identifiable by their stature, but most were hard to pick apart without hearing anyone.
“Welcome Dolores,” one of them greeted, his voice low and silky.
“Thank you, sir,” she greeted in a sickly-sweet manner.
“I still don’t know why you’re letting someone that willingly put so many of us away,” another growled. She knew that voice. He sounded a lot like his father.
“Now now, if you remember I voted more leniently than some of my counterparts,” she corrected who she believed to be Barty.
“For most,” he shot back, folding his arms across his chest.
“It’s simply politics Mr.-” she cut herself off, remembering the guise of anonymity this was supposed to have. “Some cases were not as clear cut as others. Deals have to be made to prevent stand stills. Some of the ones I did side more harshly on I took no pleasure in, I assure you,”
“And you’re here for a similar reason I take it?” a different voice offered. She didn’t recognize the voice.
“Precisely,” she nodded. “The students at Hogwarts do not seem to understand the importance of order and tradition, and some assistance in removing Dumbledore from enabling them would be appreciated.
“Assuming any of us are on the board of governors,” one that sounded like Lord Malfoy started, “What would be the payoff for them? You don’t expect m-any of them to simply help further your aims for power without something in return,”
“Of course not,” she replied, “I would be willing to help some of the students that may be struggling academically or struggle with propriety with more gentle reminders than those of less agreeable families. And remember I still have the ear of the Minister of Magic,”
“There were hushed murmurs across the table.
“Very well Umbridge, we’ll consider your offer and get back to you,” the one that greeted her agreed before showing her the door.
Dumbledore was ousted in a week.