𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼𝗰𝗸, harry potter

˗ˋ 151

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED
AND FIFTY ONE
✧
-: fifth year :-

── IN WHICH THEY'RE DRAGGED
TO DUMBLEDORE'S OFFICE

. . .

"Fizzing Whizbee." Umbridge sang, and the stone gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office jumped aside, the wall behind split open, and they ascended the moving stone staircase, Aviana continuing her ploy of making noises of pain and audible winces all the way, forcing them to take it at a slow pace; Umbridge didn't dare take her eyes off of them for fear they would somehow escape.

They reached the polished door with the griffin knocker, but Umbridge did not bother to knock and instead strode straight inside, holding Harry's jumper tightly in her balled fist. The office was fill of people. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, his expression serene, the tips of his fingers together. Professor McGonagall stood rigidly beside him, her face tense. Fudge was rocking back and forward on his toes beside the fire, apparently immensely pleased with the situation. Kingsley and a tough-looking wizard, with very short, wiry hair, that Harry did not recognise that Aviana evidently did, were positioned either side of the door like guards, and Percy Weasley was hovering excitedly beside the wall, a quill and heavy scroll of parchment in his hands, ready to take notes.

The portraits of old headmasters and mistresses were not asleep, but rather watching what was happening below, alert and serious. As the two teenagers entered, a few flitted into neighbouring frames and whispered urgently into their neighbour's ears. Harry managed to free himself of Umbridge's grasp as the door swung shut behind them, making sure to keep Aviana steady.

Cornelius Fudge was glaring at them with a kind of vicious satisfaction upon his face.

"Well," he said. "Well, well, well..." He began. Harry replied silently, with the dirtiest look he could muster.

Aviana, on the other hand, was never the one for silence. "Evening, Minister. How's the Death Eater hunt going? Managed to find my murderer of a father yet, or any of his psychopath friends?" She asked, pointedly.

"Well-" Fudge began, the smugness slipping for just a moment, as Percy behind him audibly began to scratch down notes.

"They were heading back to Gryffindor Tower." Umbridge said, excitement clear in her voice, the same callous pleasure present when she was watching Trelawney dissolving with misery in the entrance hall. "The Malfoy boy cornered them."

"Did he, did he?" Fudge nodded appreciatively. "I must remember to tell Lucius."

"Yes, and you could also get me a fucking chair." Aviana said. "Or would that hinder your ability to catch prison escapees too?"

"What?" Fudge blinked. Percy was still scribbling.

"Miss Rosier was... injured in the process."

"Draco used a Trip-Jinx on me instead of Harry, a certain act of aggression given that I had him hung up by his ankles and covered in bird pecks just the other week." Aviana replied snappishly. "You can tell Lucius that too, I'm sure he'll be proud of his boy then." She eyed the room. "My chair?"

Fudge waved his hand and the man Harry didn't recognise moved from his position at the door, dragging a chair along the floor and settling it where Aviana was hobbling. She sunk down in it, her supposedly injured leg stretched out in front of her. "Wonderful. Thank you, Dawlish, lovely to see you again." She added, and the man said nothing as he returned to the door.