[Prof. Umbridge] Chapter 36

"And what now?" Marina Nikolaevna asked as Snape came down. "What’s this?!"

He handed her a scruffy rat, holding it by the tail with two fingers, and explained,

"This is Pettigrew. He's an Animagus, like the other Marauders, except Lupin. That’s how he hid all these years… I just returned him to his usual form. We’ll need to hide him somewhere, and it’s easier to hide a rat than a person. Now, stay in the kitchen with Bellatrix for a while, and I'll see Narcissa out. Then we’ll decide what to do…"

"Narcissa won't wonder where Bellatrix has gone?"

"No. I’ll put on a little show. Stay quiet," Snape instructed, closing the hidden door again.

Marina Nikolaevna glanced around, spotted a dirty pot on the table under which Bellatrix lay, popped the rat inside, and covered it with a lid. She cast a sealing charm, just in case. There was a small hole in the lid for steam, so Pettigrew wouldn’t suffocate—at least not immediately.

"Keep an eye on her," Marina instructed Letty, nodding at the captive, and crept to the door.

"Narcissa… Narcissa, wake up," Snape was saying quietly. "What happened to you?"

"Huh? I… I don't remember," she stammered.

"Here, take this; you need a drink… Must have been a shock. You just fainted, but I caught you just in time before you hit your head."

"And where’s Bella?" asked Narcissa.

"Vanished as soon as we completed the ritual," Snape lied smoothly. "Said she had some important assignment from the Dark Lord, grabbed Wormtail, and disappeared."

"She’s very angry at you…"

"I can’t help her with that. Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes… yes, thank you. Severus… did you really swear to… fulfill my request?"

"Of course," he replied softly.

"Everything’s so foggy," she murmured. "Severus…"

"You should go back before anyone notices your absence," Snape advised. "And don’t breathe a word. Not even to your husband. You know what could happen if you slip up, yes?"

"I understand, of course… Thank you…"

A sob was followed by the sound of her Apparating away. A few minutes later, the door opened again.

"She’s gone," Snape said. "And I added a bit more protection to the house; it should hold for a while. Now, where did you put Wormtail?"

Marina Nikolaevna pointed to the pot.

"Well, Dolores, I actually cook in that pot!" Snape replied with distaste.

"And why’s it so filthy then?"

"Because Wormtail was too lazy to do anything around here, and I didn’t have time for it. And anyway, that’s beside the point."

"Exactly," she nodded. "Now, what is it you promised Narcissa?"

"Oh…" Snape kicked a stool out of the corner, gallantly offered it to the lady, and perched on the edge of the table himself. "It’s the Dark Lord's plan. Incidentally, I found out about it. Narcissa was certain of this, which is why she came pleading for help."

"But help with what?" Marina Nikolaevna asked quietly.

"The Dark Lord has given Draco Malfoy an almost impossible task… I think it’s punishment for Lucius—he was supposed to retrieve the prophecy but chose to flee, as you know. The Dark Lord is furious with him."

Snape paused, then continued,

"Narcissa wanted me to swear that I’d take on Draco's task myself. I believe the Dark Lord also thinks that’s what I’ll end up doing. But he’s making Draco try first. If he succeeds, I’ll be able to stay at Hogwarts a bit longer."

"So, essentially, they’re sending the boy on a suicide mission?"

"A suicide mission, yes, likely. I’m sure he can’t complete it."

"But what’s the task?" Marina Nikolaevna leaned forward, frowning.

Snape sighed heavily.

"He’s supposed to kill Dumbledore."

The stool leg gave way, and Marina Nikolaevna crashed to the floor.

"Are you alright?"

"Almost," she said, grabbing the offered hand and getting up, rubbing her bruised backside. 

"Severus, are you serious? Kill the Headmaster?!"

"Yes."

"And you… you lied to Narcissa, swearing you’d take it on if Draco failed—which is almost inevitable, right?"

"And do you think, Dolores, that I wouldn’t do it without any vow?" Snape asked softly. "The Malfoys are among the few people I could call friends, even if just barely. Draco is their only son—I’ve known him since he was a baby…"

"But you didn’t make the vow…"

"A vow? Aim higher. She wanted an Unbreakable Vow," he replied grimly. "And I’m already bound by so many obligations that I can’t even imagine how they might intersect or conflict!"

Marina Nikolaevna rubbed her temples, thought for a moment, and said, 

"Fine. Well, it’s not fine, but let’s put off discussing Draco’s mission. We have another problem—what to do with these two?"

"Kill them and dispose of the bodies," Snape said without a hint of sarcasm. "Simple as that."

"I don’t know about you, but I couldn't even bring myself to squash a rat, let alone a person," she admitted honestly. "If it’s in battle, that’s different, but…"

"But first, I won’t let you wreck my house, and second, you wouldn’t last a minute against Bellatrix," he concluded. "And I wouldn’t risk taking her on either."

"Keeping her under the Imperius Curse constantly is risky; look at Barty Crouch Jr. as an example," Marina Nikolaevna murmured. "She might escape again… By the way, can the Dark Lord track his followers through the Mark?"

"Apparently not. He can summon them, but it doesn’t work like a beacon," Snape added with unexpected insight. "Though who knows; he doesn’t reveal all his secrets. They found Karkaroff somehow, though."

"Could he tell if a person is alive or dead?" she pressed.

"I have no idea."

"Then…" Marina Nikolaevna bit her lip. "You said that turning someone into an inanimate object or animal for an extended time isn’t wise, but for a short time? Because with the body, there could be issues…"

"Temporarily, yes," he nodded. "What should we transform her into?"

"Just not a snake!"

"No need to tell me that…" Snape thought for a moment, then raised his wand. Bellatrix's body shrank to the size of a clenched fist. "How’s this?"

"Perfect," Marina Nikolaevna said, admiring the stone toad, and opened the pot lid. "Let’s put her here. I think they’ll be less bored together!"

"Dolores," Snape said suddenly, "was it my imagination, or was Fletcher lurking nearby when we left the bank?"

"It wasn’t your imagination. He was wandering around, and I decided an eyewitness wouldn’t hurt," she confessed. "He saw Bellatrix and Pettigrew; he’ll report it to the Order, right? You’ll hear about it from Dumbledore and relay it to the Dark Lord. Let him wonder what Bellatrix is up to and where she is now!"

"Well, well…" Snape said thoughtfully. "Let’s hope it works. And I think I’ve figured out a place to handle the Horcruxes, if that’s what these are, without anyone catching on."

"And what place is that?"

"The Order’s headquarters, of course," Snape smirked. "I can still go there. It should just be 

Black at the moment."

"And Potter? Isn’t he with his godfather?"

"No, he’s staying with the Weasleys. As far as I know, he and Black tried to get along, but it didn’t go well: Black decided to give his godson some discipline, and… well, you can imagine the scene, especially with Mrs. Weasley present, who says Potter is dearer to her than a son!"

"I’d rather not imagine it," Marina Nikolaevna said honestly. "But what if someone else is there?"

"I'll come up with an errand," Snape shrugged. "And you can hide. Need I remind you that someone still has the nerve to lecture me about keeping basilisk fangs?"

"I didn't keep them; I borrowed them temporarily," she responded with dignity, pulling on an invisibility cloak. "And as stated, I'll return them once Potter finishes school."

"Dumbledore also borrowed it to study its properties," he said quietly, "almost right before the Potters' deaths..."

Marina Nikolaevna paused for a moment, then asked, "Do you think it should be returned to its owner?"

"I don’t know. Things are already so tangled it's hard to imagine what consequences even the simplest action might bring."

"For instance, what would happen if you brought me, an outsider, into the Order’s headquarters?" she asked. "And I still can't understand, Severus, why you suddenly trusted me with, if not all, then many secrets!"

"Me? I did no such thing."

"And who told me about the Horcruxes? About the prophecy?"

"Didn’t you notice that whenever I mentioned something, it was common knowledge?" he squinted. "Otherwise, I merely confirmed your guesses. As for why... I still don't understand what you're aiming for, Dolores, but I like people who can think beyond rigid logic. I admire how you use your administrative resources and handle the Minister—yes, don’t deny it! And the Minister seems utterly pleased... Though I did hear from Malfoy about some outrageous new rule, but he's not exactly in a position to open his mouth."

"That’s precisely what I told Fudge," Marina Nikolaevna replied with a satisfied smile. "But once again, you've evaded the question."

"I didn’t evade it; I simply don’t know the answer," Snape said honestly. "I knew exactly the trap I had set for myself. I fully understood that my chances of survival were… close to zero, to put it mildly. I was even curious about who would kill me first... But then you came along and made such adjustments to the Headmaster's plans that now I don’t know what to expect!"

"Very well. Shall we go, then?"

"Yes. Take the cauldron and give me your hand; without me, you won’t even see this house... And have your house-elf hold onto you, or she won’t be able to enter."

"Letty," Marina Nikolaevna nodded to her house-elf. "Hold onto my... sleeve, perhaps, and don’t get lost."

"Ready? Then..."

Sudden darkness... and then darkness again, along with torrential rain so heavy it obscured the streetlights.

"Look," Snape pulled a note from his pocket, lighting it with his wand, "and memorize the address."

‘The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at: 12 Grimmauld Place, London,’ was inscribed in a familiar elegant handwriting.

"Repeat mentally what you’ve read," Snape instructed, putting away the note. Marina Nikolaevna did so, glancing around.

Right before them was number 11, with 10 to the left and 13 to the right... But the moment she thought "12 Grimmauld Place," a weathered door materialized. Its black paint was cracked and peeling in places, and the silver door knocker was crafted in the shape of a coiling serpent, lacking both a keyhole and a mail slot. Then walls and soot-streaked windows appeared as the house squeezed itself into the row. The stereo in number 11 continued playing undisturbed, and the Muggles living there seemed oblivious.

"The Blacks made themselves quite comfortable," Snape observed, touching the door with his wand. Locks clicked, and the door creaked open. "Put up your hood just in case there are guests... And be very, very quiet..."

Though he immediately stumbled on something in the dark and muttered a low, unmistakable curse.

"What kind of traps have they set here? Careful, Dolores, and don’t make any noise, or else..."

"Who the hell comes here at night?" a voice called from the staircase, and a light flicked on under the ceiling.

At that very moment, curtains on the wall parted, and a massive portrait of an old woman shrieked, "Filthy half-bloods! Vermin! Scum! Defilers of my house!..."

"Shut up, would you..." Black groaned, clutching his head as he forced the heavy curtains shut. "Snape? What do you want?"

"I'm here on Order business," he replied, dusting off his cloak. "Are you here alone?"

"Aside from Kreacher," Black yawned, "but he’s somewhere rummaging in the attic. So spill it and get out!"

"You could be a bit more polite, Mr. Black," Marina Nikolaevna said, handing the cauldron to Snape and removing her invisibility cloak, draping it over her arm.

"You again... And what’s this? Dinner? If it’s from Molly, no thanks."

"No, Black," Snape suddenly smiled broadly. "We’ve brought you a gift. Let’s go to the kitchen, or you’ll start yelling in harmony with your mother..."

"What are you two up to?" Marina Nikolaevna whispered to him.

"I’m about to give Black an unparalleled delight," he whispered back. "Watch your step. You'll see, he’ll enjoy it!"

The kitchen was warm, much warmer than the hall, though it was in utter disarray.

"Ah," Snape noted, looking around, "without Molly to supervise, you quickly revert to your animal form."

"Severus, your cauldron is unwashed too," Marina Nikolaevna reminded him fairly, setting the cauldron on the table.

"One!" he replied. "And two plates. Not an entire service for two dozen. Admit it, Black, you just keep grabbing clean dishes from the cupboard? What will you do when you run out? I, out of necessity, will clean them or even wash them by hand, but you? You’ve got a house-elf, so why the mess?"

"Look, did you come for a reason or just to crack jokes?" Black frowned. "Try getting Kreacher to do something—I’d like to see you try!"

"Or is it male pride that prevents you from mastering cleaning spells?" Marina Nikolaevna asked, waving her wand to clear the countertop. "Letty, can you tidy up in here?"

"Letty can, but the house-elf here will take offense," she replied.

"That’s his problem. Wash the dishes and clean up; this is no pigsty!"

While Letty scurried around the kitchen, Snape opened the cauldron, pulled out the stone toad, and showed it to Black.

"We brought you a frog princess," he declared. "Unspell her, and you'll have a night full of fire and Unforgivables!"

"Snape, have you lost it, drunk, or are you joking?" Black asked cautiously. "Madam Umbridge, what’s with him?"

"Stress, I suppose," she said, taking the toad from him. "After completing a difficult and dangerous task. But he’s not joking, Mr. Black. We managed to capture some Death Eaters, but what to do with them next... Send them to Azkaban? They’ll escape or someone will help them—there are no Dementors there now. Turn them over to the Ministry? Before they determine guilt and sentencing, these people might escape. And execution... I personally can’t do it."

"And you want me to do it?" Black frowned. "I’m no executioner either!"

"And what if I told you that this," Snape nodded at the stone toad, "is Bellatrix Lestrange?"

There was silence.

"You really are joking," Black said confidently. "You wouldn’t dare..."

"We had to," Snape shrugged. "And leaving her alive is far too dangerous."

"Maybe turn her into a rat? Put them together and let them start a family," Marina Nikolaevna suggested.

"She’d eat him."

Black peered into the cauldron, and his face twisted with rage.

"This one... this one..." he sputtered, "this one I'll deal with myself! Right now!"

"Calm down, Mr. Black!" Marina Nikolaevna shoved him back. "Keeping Pettigrew locked up will be easier. And we need him alive, as a witness. You haven't been officially exonerated yet, remember?"

"Yes... right..." Black took a shaky breath and licked his dry lips.

"Well then?" Snape asked. "Think you can shatter a statue? It’s so simple: one strike, and then only fragments… though they might turn into body pieces, but that's a minor detail, right?"

"No… I can’t do it like that," Black shook his shaggy head, unable to take his eyes off the glimmering stone figure. "If it were… a one-on-one fight…"

"Want to duel her?"

"Oh, yes!" Black's eyes lit up. "Just not in the house. Kreacher is here, and to him, she's his beloved mistress Bella! He lied once, saying I wasn’t home, while tipping her and Narcissa off about Harry heading to the Department of Mysteries... He could interfere again..."

"So, we need a deserted place," Snape said seriously. Marina Nikolaevna started to protest, but he gestured for her to stay silent. "Somewhere on the outskirts will do. Shall we? Dolores, bring Letty; she’ll make sure our lady doesn't escape prematurely. Though, I’m quite sure that, upon seeing Black, she won’t try to flee!"

"Maybe it would be safer to hold it at Hogwarts? There are anti-apparition spells there," she reminded.

"And, thanks to your efforts, plenty of Aurors. No, I know a suitable spot - they held the Quidditch World Cup there. So, Black?"

"And how do I know you won’t hand me over to your master, so he can lure Harry out again?" Black suddenly asked, quite logically.

"Unbelievable, Black—actual logic!" Snape marveled. "Fine, take a look..."

With a flick of his wand, a woman’s body appeared stretched across the table, disheveled black hair streaked with gray almost touching the floor. Her hands were securely bound behind her back with Muggle duct tape, as Snape didn’t have any rope and didn’t entirely trust magic bindings alone. Her mouth was gagged—just in case.

"Is it her?"

Black lifted the woman’s head by her hair, looked at her face, then cut the sleeve to see the Dark Mark.

"Her wand," Snape displayed. "A new one, of course; her old ones are long gone."

"Looks like her..." Black’s breath was rapid and heavy. "Unless she’s Polyjuiced... Well, we’ll find out soon enough when we let her go!"

"Then pick her up, and let’s go. We'll Apparate from the porch. Dolores, you follow us, and keep an eye on the rat!"

‘Why does the worst job always fall to me?’ thought Marina Nikolaevna, pulling the sleeping rat from the cauldron by the tail. Then, after some thought, she transformed it into a pocket knife—less unpleasant to carry, and potentially useful.

"Letty, follow them!"

_______________________________________________

The damp, uneven meadow was pitch black.

"We’re over here," Snape’s voice came from a clump of trees oddly placed in the middle of the open field.

"Couldn’t you pick a worse spot?" Marina Nikolaevna stumbled, almost twisting her ankle, and muttered a curse.

"I could, but here we’re guaranteed no Muggles within a couple miles. Where’s your house-elf?"

"Letty? Right here."

"Does she understand her task?"

"Letty," Marina Nikolaevna repeated, "a duel is about to happen between Mr. Black and this woman. Do not interfere, but if she tries to Apparate, you’re to stop her. Can you manage that?"

"Letty can set up an anti-Apparition barrier right away," she said, twitching her ears.

"Oh..." Snape whispered in the darkness. "Makes sense—it wasn’t the headmaster who set those spells over Hogwarts… and Dobby..."

"What are you on about?"

"Never mind! Let her do it."

"Letty, set the barrier from here to the far edge of the field. Will that be enough space for them?"

"Plenty, I’d say. And I’ll set up protective shields to keep them from going beyond that."

After several more minutes of preparation, they finally untied Bellatrix, removed the gag, and allowed her to wake up.

"Maybe give her Pettigrew’s wand?" Marina Nikolaevna whispered.

"No, let her use her own," Black responded, his keen hearing catching even her whisper.

The woman stirred, coughed, and rose to her hands and knees.

"Shhh…" Snape pulled Marina Nikolaevna back into the deep shadows under the trees. "We’re not here."

"Hey! Who’s there?" Bellatrix called out, finding her wand but not yet standing upright.

"It’s me, dear cousin," Black replied softly, faintly illuminating his face. "Been a while, hasn’t it?"

"You?!" she snarled, immediately launching a spell at him without standing up.

The next moments were a blur to Marina Nikolaevna, like a frenzied nightclub light show—a rapid barrage of flashes so blinding it was impossible to tell who was where.

She understood why neither of them would light the battlefield: darkness gave both cloaked opponents some advantage. But it also made her trip over unseen bumps...

Bellatrix cursed loudly enough to shame a hardened sailor, and Black matched her, with the pace of the battle only increasing. Marina Nikolaevna knew that against a foe like Bellatrix, she wouldn’t last a minute—perhaps not even five seconds! She wondered, though, about Snape...

‘It’s as clear as day to me right now,’ she suddenly recalled his words. He could see well in dim light, and now the moon was out... But surely the flashes must have been blinding him!

"Got you?!" Bellatrix screamed suddenly, and as if on cue, the clouds parted, and the battlefield was bathed in eerie moonlight.

The Death Eater stood over a fallen Black, laughing.

"You thought you could beat me? You traitor!" she sneered, raising her wand for the final strike.

Marina Nikolaevna’s body moved faster than her mind.

She saw three beams slam into Bellatrix’s chest—two green and one red—and Bellatrix, standing for a split second more, collapsed to the ground like a heap of rags.

"Who asked you to interfere?!" Black shouted hoarsely as he got back on his feet.

"Sort it out later! Check if she’s really dead or faking it," Snape replied, approaching in a wide arc.

"Not breathing," Black said and suddenly laughed, a bark-like sound. "Yes! Finally! Snape, I never thought I’d say this, but you made me happy!"

"I told you he’d like it," Snape remarked, deftly dodging Black’s attempted hug. Marina Nikolaevna wasn’t as lucky, barely fending off a seemingly intoxicated Black. "Hmm… I wonder who finished her off. Black? She disarmed you; I saw it."

"Yeah, but I have a backup wand, lousy though it is. Fletcher brought it over—it’s good enough for an Avada..."

"Ah. So, one Avada was yours, one was mine, and you, Dolores, what spell did you cast?"

"Petrificus Totalus," she replied, "but I aimed at her wand hand. Bellatrix was Black's prey."

"True, but she turned suddenly, and you hit her chest," Snape said, tapping the body. "Now, it’s hard to tell whether she died from Avada or her heart stopped from the petrification."

"What’s the difference? It worked out perfectly…" Black found his wand in the grass. "What now?"

"We’ll have to keep the body, just in case it needs to be shown," Snape mused.

"Let’s transform her into something again? I’ll put Cousin Bella up on the mantelpiece or even in a glass cabinet, and personally dust her off!" Black said with a gleeful smile.

"Great idea," Snape nodded, flicking his wand. "Here, a dancer with a snake—what do you think?"

"You’ve always had terrible taste, but I like the idea," Black replied, taking the figurine.

"And give me her wand," Snape ordered. "No, not me. Better Dolores. Now, let’s get back and…”

"Drink ourselves silly!"

"No. I mean, you can drink all you want, but we still have work to do," Snape answered seriously. "And we’ll need your house."

"Thanks for not asking for my clothes and motorcycle," Black muttered, breaking into a nervous laugh again.