[Prof. Umbridge] Chapter 28

"I see you succeeded?" greeted Ingebjorg that evening, gesturing for her to sit.

"Yes. And it was embarrassingly easy," Marina Nikolaevna admitted as she settled into a chair draped with a soft fur. "Especially when you use administrative resources..."

"Well, tell me, what did the prophecy say?"

"Let me recall it word for word…" She focused and repeated: "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… And the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal, but will have knowledge of none of his power… And one must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives…"

"Well now..." Ingebjorg drew out slowly after a long pause. "It seems Voldemort did himself a disservice."

"Am I right in thinking he’s already marked Potter as his equal? That scar..."

"Yes. And he doesn’t know all of Potter’s power."

"In what way?"

"Dolores, you’ve mentioned Potter’s connection to Voldemort," Ingebjorg said pointedly, tapping her forehead. "He’s marked. He’s encountered Voldemort again and survived."

"Yes, something strange happened then..." Marina Nikolaevna knew parts of this story from Fudge, parts from Snape, who’d heard it from Dumbledore and seen some of it in Potter’s memories. "During a duel, Voldemort’s and Potter’s wands reacted strangely. They seemed to connect, and then Voldemort’s wand began to show spells in reverse order, as if under Priori Incantatem. It was explained as happening because their wands are twins, with identical cores."

"So, it all fits," said the Seer with satisfaction. "As I said, Voldemort chose to fulfill the prophecy himself. He couldn’t defeat the boy because he doesn’t know the full extent of his own power."

"So..." Marina Nikolaevna paused. "Years ago, instead of killing Potter, Voldemort transferred some of his power to him? And, does this mean... Potter is a Horcrux too?!"

"Yes, it appears so," Ingebjorg replied. "Now that we understand that, we can interpret the last line of the prophecy."

"Potter must kill Voldemort? Or vice versa? One must die at the other’s hand?"

"That would be the case, if not for the Horcrux..." Ingebjorg mused, rubbing her chin. "As long as Potter lives, Voldemort lives. If Potter dies along with his Horcrux, Voldemort can be killed, if the other Horcruxes are destroyed first. But there’s no point in killing Voldemort while the boy lives."

"So, does this mean that 'one must die at the hand of the other' definitively refers to Potter?"

"Maybe, maybe not…" Ingebjorg answered thoughtfully. "There’s too much tangled up in this prophecy."

"Ingebjorg, let me add one more thing," Marina Nikolaevna suddenly realized. "Last year, when Voldemort regained a body, he didn’t use a Horcrux; he performed a different ritual. And for that, he took... wait... his father’s bone, a servant’s flesh, and an enemy’s blood—that is, Potter’s... What did I say that was funny?"

"It’s just that your Voldemort is completely out of his mind!" the old woman said through laughter. "An enemy’s blood, ha! Voldemort took his blood, believing it would grant him power, and in thinking of strength, he absorbed a part of the protection spells that the mother cast when she died for her son! His body remembers her sacrifice, and as long as those charms exist, Potter lives!"

"Wait, I’m completely lost..." Marina Nikolaevna put her head in her hands. "So... if Potter dies, the Horcrux will perish, but not him? Because the connection to Voldemort is supported not only by the Horcrux but also by the blood? And as long as Voldemort is alive, Potter survives?"

"Roughly speaking, yes, though there might be nuances," Ingebjorg answered seriously. "But I wouldn’t try breaking Potter’s neck just yet; he might manage that on his own. Still, Dolores, if there's no other way, it might be necessary..."

"Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that," she sighed heavily. "My thoughts are such a mess right now..."

"Don't worry; it will settle by morning," the old woman reassured her. "The morning is wiser than the evening. By the way, you promised me a ski run in the morning."

"Yes, I remember, but today I had to leave for some urgent matters. Tomorrow at seven."

"Great!"

After saying goodbye to Ingebjorg, Marina Nikolaevna went to her room, thinking about the things that had become clearer, but knowing she couldn’t tell Snape. After all, he was a Death Eater. Not because he might report the full prophecy to Voldemort—it was unlikely that it would be in his interest—but because he could be interrogated, even for other reasons. He had said himself that Voldemort was a powerful Legilimens!

___________________________________________

Early risers that morning were treated to a delightful sight. There were more skiers on the field, and Marina Nikolaevna politely gave way as mighty Ingebjorg sped by, raising clouds of snow with a piercing whistle of her skis. Her gray braids flew behind her, the headband on her forehead already damp... The Seer wore only a long, thick-knit sweater with reindeer patterns and leggings, but she clearly wasn’t feeling the cold.

"Feels great!" she said with satisfaction, stopping abruptly and showering a group of first-years watching in awe with snow.

"You’re in excellent shape," Marina Nikolaevna complimented her.

"Well, I haven’t stretched out in a while," Ingebjorg leaned on her ski poles. "Back in my youth, I could ski all day, and the cold was nothing compared to this... Did you spot any good hills around here?"

"Over there by the lake, there’s a decent slope," she pointed. "The kids slide down it on sleds and make it halfway across the lake."

"Oh! I’ll give it a try... How about you?"

"No, I’m afraid of downhill skiing," Marina Nikolaevna admitted. "I’m fine as is."

"Well, suit yourself..." the Seer lowered her voice. "So, have you sorted it all out in your head?"

"Almost. But I still don’t know what to do about it."

"You’ll figure it out gradually. Now... breakfast is still a while off, so stand aside!"

Marina Nikolaevna did a few more laps before heading back to the castle, also herding the first-years back inside, some of whom had come out without hats—a detail she planned to bring up with their prefects. Of course, they were met in the hall by Filch...

‘Again!’ he lamented, watching clumps of snow and water drip onto the clean floor.

"Mr. Filch," Marina Nikolaevna began, but he only sighed:

"What can you do? It’s my job... mop and wipe..."

"Oh, come on, it’s a minute’s work," she said, taking out her wand, cleaning the floor, and drying the students, who quickly scattered.

"And soon that holiday, with them traipsing back and forth, littering with bits of paper and wrappers," Filch muttered, trailing her like a shadow.

"What holiday? Oh, Valentine’s Day!"

"Yes, that one..."

"Time flies so fast," Marina Nikolaevna mused, glancing at the caretaker. "Did you want to ask me something, Mr. Filch? Go ahead, I need to change before breakfast."

"Well... that is... Madam Umbridge, maybe you wouldn’t refuse... a cup of tea in Hogsmeade..." he finally managed, turning an impossible shade of crimson.

"How kind of you, Mr. Filch," she forced a smile, processing the unexpected invitation. "We’ll see as the day goes on."

‘Just what I needed!’ she thought, making her escape.

_________________________

"Snape, why isn’t Potter practicing Occlumency with you anymore?" Marina Nikolaevna asked a week later, catching the professor on the stairs. Not an easy task, but she managed. "Did you finally teach him to shield his mind?"

"No," he answered curtly, trying to free his sleeve, but to no avail; no one had yet escaped Marina Nikolaevna’s grip.

"Then why? His visions haven’t stopped. Did the Headmaster give you new orders?"

"No."

"Snape, does Dumbledore know the lessons were canceled?"

"No."

"I’m asking for the third time—why?"

"And if I don’t answer, what will you do?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I’ll inform the Headmaster that you’re sabotaging his assignment. Is that what you want?"

"Fine..." Snape glanced around, pondered, and then shook his head. "Not here. Come to my office; it’s closer."

In his office, the first thing he did was lock the door securely, check that the fireplace was blocked, and only then spoke:

"Umbridge, I can’t teach Potter anymore."

"Snape, I don’t mind asking again—why?"

"Because of what he saw..." the professor trailed off.

"Granger mentioned he peeked at one of your memories, and you were furious," Marina remembered...

"They are the ones. One of my most disgusting memories. There are worse and more painful ones, but this… And, after Potter saw that, I can’t work with him," Snape said honestly. "I always see his father in front of me, and I feel an excruciating urge to torture him to death. You understand, doing Occlumency in such a state is simply dangerous – I could blow his brains out and not even notice!… Or maybe he could do it to me: Potter sometimes produces a powerful defense spontaneously," he added for fairness.

"And if the Headmaster finds out?" Marina Nikolaevna said after a pause.

"He’ll ask how it’s going – I’ll say I gave Potter the task to practice on his own, and he’s making some progress. And Potter won’t spill, I’m sure. He hates me and my lessons, so getting rid of it is a relief for him."

"Snape, you do understand that projecting hatred for a long-dead man, no matter who he was, onto his son is unhealthy?"

"I understand that rationally, but I can’t do anything about it," came the answer. "Too bad emotions can’t be dumped into a Pensieve like memories."

"But you managed not to kill Black on the spot!" 

"Oh, you compare! Black," he smirked, "is, you could say, the lesser evil, especially after I found out he was innocent…"

‘Exactly,’ Marina Nikolaevna remembered, ‘Black allegedly betrayed the Potters' whereabouts and ended up in Azkaban for it… Yet now he's back with the Order, Potter trusts him, and he wasn’t the traitor at all… Potter looks like his father, but has his mother’s eyes, as many say… The mother who saved him at the cost of her life, whom Voldemort hesitated to kill… Who asked for mercy and why? The one who passed part of the prophecy to him but didn’t know whom Voldemort would choose! And then it was too late… And he once said he swore to protect Potter! What a tangled web…’

"What are you thinking so deeply about, Umbridge?" Snape asked quietly. 

"Trying to figure out what all this might lead to." 

"And you’re not going to ask, with your usual delicacy, what exactly Potter saw?"

"Are you so eager to air dirty laundry in public?" Marina Nikolaevna couldn’t resist and was surprised when Snape suddenly twitched.

 "What’s wrong?" 

"Nothing," he replied gloomily. 

"Is the interrogation over?" 

"It is," she nodded and left.