A Second Chance (Harry Potter)

Chapter 32

The Queen had just had her breakfast, at the best part of her day, as she delicately sipped her golden raspberry juice from a glass, going through the day's Daily Prophet.

On seeing the bold headlines, emblazoned at the front cover, she choked on her juice, spitting it out immediately.

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"

She growled, slamming her glass harshly down on the table.

"You!" she barked to the house elf that stood at the corner of her room, should she need anything. "Take it away," she said coldly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. This was atrocious, utterly disgusting.

Standing up, she didn't bother to read the rest of the article as the angrily flung the newspaper into the fire, watching with gleaming eyes as the toad face of Dolores Umbridge contorted and burned immediately.

"CORNELIUS FUDGE!" she roared, grabbing her scepter and heading out of the room, grabbing Francis' copy of the newspaper that lay on the table. Angrily storming up to the headmaster's office, she didn't care about how she looked, she needed to see Dumbledore instantly, the Ministry was getting out of her hand without her presence.

Heading up to Dumbledore's office, she was stopped by the stupid stone gargoyle. Trying to move past it, it refused to grant her entry way.

"I suppose you need some sort of password," she muttered. The gargoyle nodded.

"I'm the Queen," she demanded. "This is an emergency."

"Password," the gargoyle said monotonously.

The raven haired girl got furious, and groaned, her patience getting lower by the second.

"Is something the matter, Your Majesty?" came an awfully calm voice, from behind her.

She turned around, her head quickly snapping backwards.

She was very relieved to see the familiar hook-nosed, greasy haired man that stood behind her.

"Snape," she breathed, coming down the steps, a few feet away from him. "Yes, something is the matter," she spoke formally. "I need to talk to Dumbledore."

"Professor Dumbedore would be in his office," he said, in a monotone.

"Yes, I know," she snapped. "Don't test my patience, Snape, I'm not in a good mood," she said rapturously, waving the Daily Prophet in his face.

Snape seemed to be hiding a hint of a smile. "Ah, yes, that makes sense," he told her. "The password is Ice Mice, by the way."

Valerie tilted her head slightly, scoffing. "Ice Mice?" she questioned incredulously. "Ice Mice?" she repeated. "What is he. twelve?"

"Your Majesty, I do not assess others based on their mental being, now if you'll excuse me, I am late for a class."

With a flourish of his long, black cloak, he disappeared behind the corridor.

"Ice Mice," Valerie sighed, climbing the stairs to the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. The gargoyle grumbled before rotating and letting her pass. As she climbed up the long, winding stairway, she knocked on the door to the headmaster's office.

"Enter," he called out feebly.

She entered.

He was pacing across his study, his half-moon spectacles placed precariously on his nose. On turning around and seeing the queen in his presence, he took of his glasses, almost as if he believed he was dreaming.