Chapter 1
His dark beady eyes kept anticipating - eager and sharp- for her arrival. Alastor Moody was currently seated on the podium in the dining hall at Hogwarts waiting, like many of his colleagues, for others to join in. However, unlike his fellow professors, he was -rather eagerly, if one noticed, anticipating the arrival of one particular witch who was allocated the seat just besides his.
A certain part representative of the Ministry and part professor.
The professor who had the privilege of wearing pink in Hogwarts.
Dolores Umbridge.
She was a perky little witch which a saccharine voice that though irritated others, amused him, enthralled him.
He kept his eyes locked at the door waiting for the woman who would no doubt- he knew, be very cross with him as usual, especially since the previous announcement. And he was looking very much forward to it. The decision that was taken by the board in outranking her to be nominated (begrudgingly) as the head of the department, pleased him a lot. Then, almost simultaneously, he was “upgraded” to teaching upper levels- befitting as the head, while she got allocated with the younger ones. This was how the grudge must have started, he assumes.
In a way, to some including the part-representative of the Ministry- Dolores, it was a slight. She had, of course objected at the time, but no avail. It might have been during this time that her “grudge” might have shifted to the grounds of “animosity”, which might have made her slip occasionally far more often to her wilder cunning side than she realized. And it was around that time, more likely that he began noticing her more in that way. And this must have been his journey to descent, to fall in pits of hell- to fall for her, and fall hard.
Meanwhile, the lady loathed that she could therefore not have much sway as she had hoped, as she was bound to work under him to establish any sort of rules. Even those that she and the Ministry deemed important. Hmph.
And she was always on the look out for an opportunity, any opportunity to emerge on the side of victory. Which unfortunately for her, took almost an eternity to present- if it ever did in the first place.
While she hated this, Moody reveled in this power play.
He loved that he could dominate her. Remind her - that by extension, he had the Ministry under him, something that always made her brown eyes sharp and her smile brittle.
A fake smile that fooled none.
She amused him.
This was a game of cat and mouse that he certainly enjoyed playing. He could feel the old thrum of recklessness and of action - that he had once felt when catching dark wizards and witches (previously), which now shifted to a vixen. And Dolores Umbridge, he realized, was soon catching up, on guard, ready to level up.
This was as exciting as the hunt for the worst criminals, only for the reward – assuming to be positive, to be juicy.
*****
How dare he?!
Dolores fumed as she made way for dinner. Mad eye Moody had again got the best of her. Just this afternoon, she had almost established her prime rule of catching the golden girl, Hermione Granger breaking a rule with Draco Malfoy of all people, in broad daylight.
While she could not touch the slytherin- being acquainted with his noble parents, she had absolutely no qualm to teach that overbearing girl a lesson. The young girl who thrived with her friend- Harry Potter’s success. They were both students in need to be thoroughly disciplined and Dolores was just (eagerly) waiting for an opportunity to bring it to fruition.
She coughed delicately to bring attention the two students clearly busy in a headlock instead of their class.
“*Ahem*, *ahem*. Could you two Head students please explain to me as to why you are not currently in class? Hmm?”
The Head Girl looked absolutely frozen in shock, with disheveled bushy hair springing outwards. It was a sight.
Dolores’ eyes strayed to her next “victim”, the Head Boy. He looked as impassive as his father, though she could see that his fingers twitching in barely noticeable movements. Nervousness. Perfect. Then, something crossed over his face and his eyes straightened out in clear repressed anger.
Looks the boy has at least some control, she sniggered inwardly while maintaining a neutral expression outwardly.
She knew that she could not touch the boy, for no sensible person would want to willingly mess with the Malfoys, but she was also not stupid. She had an upper hand, and she had to trap the Head Girl, to put her in the right place.
For the right reasons, of course.
She had her heart in the right place, and oooohhh, looks like she might finally grant someone detention tonight. All she had to do is to get rid of the boy in an inconspicuous manner. She did not want to be accused of bias, after all.
“Children…” her smile stretched broader when the two flinched minutely, “you are the Head Students, and yet I see no gap between you two. You have been very naughty to have blatantly discarded the Educational Rules, that were put up for your own benefits. If you require some help, allow me to remind you- the Head Students- Educational Decree Number Twenty-Six dictates or rather forbids, boys and girls from being within six inches of each other. And my dear children, I see no six inches distance between you two…”
She paused for an effect, to let her words sink in.
She smiled gleefully when she saw the star-girl gulp nervously with widening eyes. Reveling and in her element, she was about to pounce on that moment establishing a pivoting moment for the muggle born while declaring “detention”, when Alastor bloody Moody stepped in.
Argh.
He not only foiled her chance but smiled like a shark all the while staring outrageously at her, head to toe.
The sheer audacity.
Her lips pursed to thin lines.
Damn it.
Then to top it off, the Head boy-Malfoy defended her, the muggle born to Moody cocking up some bollocks story of being distracted by one of the ghosts pranking around. And Moody had nodded along in agreement and dismissed the two “understandingly”. As if. His story fooled none. They all knew. But before she could pull out her claws and sink on them- in a manner of speaking, the two had long fled, the girl almost in tears. Young love, ugh…
And Moody just had to had exert his upper hand and dismiss the two students before her very own eyes, she thought grumpily while narrowing her eyes slightly watching him stalk a few steps closer to her, in the now empty corridor.
The insolence !
One leg limping, followed by another limp, and another. And another step, until they were so very close. Almost touching each other.
They were almost of the same height- with him barely a few inches taller, she made a mental note distantly. She lifted her own darkening eyes slightly, staring at the ( rather spooky) eyeball that seemed to see and know everything, and that was so surely zoomed on her -- in slight trepidation.
She gulped, and let out a slow heavy breath.
The scars marring his face were similarly distracting and her eyes followed the mapping marks on his face trailing the path, lips slightly parting then pursed deliberately.
He was handsome, in a rugged manner, she conceded begrudgingly. Pity, his manners screamed otherwise. She cleared her throat and her breath hitched. She felt herself slightly arching, whimpering.
They were so very close now that their breaths almost mingled. Distantly, she wondered that it must have been truly a while since she last dated, got laid. She felt her companion leaning towards her, his fake eye ball twisting and focusing, while his real natural eye held her attention. And she was lost, gazing.
Until, suddenly, she heard a voice.
Professor McGonagall!
Snapping out of her trance, she sprung away gracefully with a force commendable for her age, and Moody felt himself curse in a low voice.
“Behave” she warned sternly, whispering furiously despite herself, with slightly reddening cheeks. And in response, he let out a roguish grin of his own.
She huffed in annoyance and wondered what the heck happened a few minutes ago, but anyways, now that Professor McGonagall was here, may be things would be set right for once? But what was she doing here?
Oh, that’s right. I had complained to her about the head students skipping class toloiter aroundand maybe that’s why she is here so quick, Dolores remembered.
She felt a more natural smile spread through her very being, anticipating the thorough chewing that Moody would- no doubt- get from her, when she would relay Moody’s unnecessary intervention in dismissing two “exemplary” students who were clearly breaking rules.
But, when McGognagall arrived on the scene, Dolores was shocked ( to say the least) to see the professor backing her other colleague instead of siding with her. Instead, she dismissed them both and had the audacity to call her out as a nosy person.
The nerve.
The Ministry would definitely be receiving a lengthy letter about the poor regulations concerning this “prestigious” school.
And all the while, her “colleague” smiled down at her clearly advertising his victory, while she had to swallow her pride and apologize.
She let the hurt display on her face and offended, she interjected purring, “Oh my, such blatant disregard and lenience to the students. I was just---”
“Professor Umbridge, if I may remind you, I was engaged in a very important class when I received your message that was blaringly deemed as urgent, and I had to leave instantly just to arrive to … this! I’m sure that this incident certainly does not count as an urgent situation that did- no doubt – disturb the education of our bright children. I’m sure that the Ministry would not want this, would it?”
And so, Dolores swallowed her pride for the Ministry’s sake (and the kids) and apologized-while silently fuming from within.
As for Alastor, the red blush blooming on the witch’s cheeks- from fury or otherwise, led him to inappropriate thoughts about the feisty witch who tried her best to project calmness. He fell for her harder.
But Dolores, she felt otherwise.
And even now post- sunset, she was still fuming from the humiliation
She made up her mind. She would ask Dumbledore (post dinner) to allocate another seat- away from the maniac during meal times and request for her letter of recommendation to Dumstrang- if things escalated. Moody was a menace to her, intent on foiling all her plans to turn the school to a respectable institution to the levels that the Ministry could esteem. And this was not to be tolerated.
Though the world was alas, a cruel place and the universe seemed to throw all her dedicated plans askew – especially through the ex-auror, Dolores Umbridge was a force to be reckoned with. And she. Would. Not. bend. Especially not to a brutish man like the ex- auror, Professor Moody.
So, she held her head high, plastered her sweet smile and sashayed her way to her seat on the podium with heels clanking on the floor. Occasionally she found herself inwardly rejoicing when barely a few students that managed to meet her eyes, only to look away gulping nervously. Good. At least she was still respected (feared). Things would look up for her and the Ministry. She would make sure of that.
She decided to play nice this evening. Afterall this would be the last time she would sit beside the man, and probably could even apply for a transfer to Dumstrang where she was sure her guidance would be more appreciated without any form of nuances. Plus, the other school had a tenacity for discipline, hmm…
She walked to her seat, and delicately perched on the chair. While serving her food on her plate, she let out a sweet smile wishing Alastor a sweet “good evening, Professor”.
He, no longer mattered to her plans anymore.
Startled at being unexpectedly addressed to, he let out a gruff “Evening” in reply, inwardly flustered. Now, that the pink witch made the first move for the evening, he was sure that she had something concocting in her sharp mind already. He had definitely noticed – his eyes were zoomed on her since her entrance in the hall after all- her slight smirk (the minute uptick to her flushed pink lips) while walking towards her seat on the podium.
“Got you good enough today, didn’t I?” he smirked in a low sultry tone.
Dolores stiffened. Today’s incident still struck a raw nerve. But she knew that after her talk with Dumbledore, things would soon go her way, and so she let out a small breath, and she purred simpering, “Oh, Professor. It was, but a small misunderstanding. We wouldn’t want the head students to lead the student body askew, would we?”
But before he could reply, she shifted her attention (deliberately dismissing him) to her other neighboring colleague, the one she tolerated most.
Professor Severus Snape.
The one who she could hope to like (the most) among her peers.
She shifted her attention to the younger man smiling beautifully. This was a man who knew about the rules, who tolerated none of the nonsense that the other professors allowed. This was the ideal mentor that this school could ever hope for a better future.
A whimper of admiration escaped through her thin curved lips.
Snape snapped his eyes to her in silent shock. He surreptitious leaned his upper body to Minerva’s in slight alarm, which could be seen only in his dark eyes. The fire behind those steely brown eyes and the subsequent preying smile – he was afraid to admit to himself- discomforted him immensely, especially from his woman. His heart belonged to only one woman: Lily- always.
But he braved on, and outwardly kept his expression to his most neutral blank one. Even a small mistake could cost him heavy.
He was not okay to have caught the attention of any other woman, especially not Umbridge!
And he was aware enough that Umbridge had started to resort to him for some of her endlessly tedious plans of inconsequential torment to students since of late. He might not be necessarily nice and accommodating to his students, may be occasionally (rightfully) biased supportive to only some, and often take some pleasures to put Gryffindor down once a while, but he was sure that he genuinely wished the best for his students far more than this witch besides him, who he was convinced was devil’s own daughter in a parody of saccharine evil and pink.
He was not ready to be associated with her or any of her nefarious plans, not for Dumbledore and not even for Hogwarts.
Last Friday for instance, it got so bad that he had admitted this to Minerva drunkenly- something he wouldn’t dare to reminiscence when sober, and was glad that she had not poked fun of his predicament for once, not for even a minute- understanding the gravity of the situation that he could be well trapped into.
And they were all aware that the “pink menace” was already in sight of the rough ex-auror, Moody, who had already staked his claim implicitly, short of outright declaring. Everyone guessed it was just a matter of time. All, but the lady in question. Why, the other day when Umbridge stalled him (again) for some of her (unnecessary) proposal for more rules, leaning in (too much) while explaining her logic rather enthusiastically, Snape got so bored that he made the mistake of lifting his eyes momentarily, only to look straight into Moody’s dark eyes who stared right back at him with eyes of such intent of screaming murder that it incidentally clued him on the witch’s crush on him. And really, who wanted a fight with the dangerous brute over the pink b*tch.
Sweet Morgana, someone save him. Please.
And so, now seated on the podium, he settled for a toneless “Pardon?”
Dolores found the pursing of Snape’s lips a bit disrespectful but she needed him as an ally so she plastered a sweeter and wider smile, and as she opened her mouth to speak, Minerva interrupted his attention and Moody hers.
But they all got interrupted when Dumbledore raised his goblet and began his speech. And things settled down for dinner.