The Master’s Return Ⅳ

The night darkness seems to creep around Dolores Umbridge, who grips her wand tightly in her hand as she peers through the night darkness that seems to hide a slithering shadow at every juncture. The tree leaves whisper sinisterly as the branches screech and croaks with the shaking of the wind. When all of a suddenly muffled footstep can be heard treading on half-decayed leaves and recently fallen leaves.

Dolores Umbridge sighs a bit in relief at last hearing footsteps, but an unease shiver creeps down her spine. A strange, heavy sound accompanies the footsteps and an almost slithering-like sound. It was large and heavy, but more importantly, moved speedily and smoothly despite its large girth. The slithering-like sound never ceased moving at a steady pace that grew louder and louder as it drew closer with each passing second.

Dolores Umbridge subconsciously swallows loudly but attempts to hide the traces of her fear behind her usual pleasant, but a poisonous expression. "Lumos," she croaked irritably as light emerges from the tip of her wand casting light upon the clearing, but the darkness beyond the trees became pitch black hiding all manner of things. The sounds beyond the darkness seem to become even louder beyond the loud, shrill pounding in her ears.

Squinting beady eyes at the darkness, Umbridge sees something tall, and skeletal-like emerge from the shadows. A small breath of surprise and dread escapes from her lips at seeing the emerging figure step into the light. The figure is tall and cloaked in dark robes. With deathly pale skin, sunken crimson eyes with snake-like pupils, and two slits for nostrils; Lord Voldemort was a most terrible existence to behold.

Umbridge unconsciously licks her dry lips wet from sheer nerves, while Lord Voldemort emotionlessly gazes down at her as if staring at a pathetic prey. Impatient Voldemort extends his long, spider-like fingers at her as Dolores's eyes become fixated on his sharp, blue-tinged fingernails. There was something distinctively unnatural to his pallor and body. It was as if a spider or better, yet a snake had become embodied into that of a living human being. If such an existence could even be called, "Human," to begin with.

A soft hiss behind her causes Dolores to whirl around and take a quick step back at spotting the creature. With snake eyes glinting from the shadows, an exceptionally large green snake as thick as a man's thigh slithers out into the light. It had a flat head with diamond patterns on its skin. If its color had not given Umbridge any clue, when the snake snapped at her mockingly, it revealed a pair of very sharp, and deadly poisonous fangs.

The light at the tip of Dolores wand shakes for a moment before she grips her wand firmer and composes herself. In a simpering high-pitched voice, Dolores says, "Greetings Lord Voldemort, I trust you received my message."

Voldemort stops a short distance away from the pudgy witch easily towering over her. There is a tense moment of silence there until he indifferently replies, "Show me."

"Of course, Milord," Umbridge said with a poisoned honey voice. Removing a single rolled-up parchment from her coat she extends the scroll out for Voldemort to take.

Voldemort crisply wrenched the scroll from her hand and studies it for a moment in his hand. "This better not be a falsehood on your part, Umbridge," Voldemort forewarned as his expression promised, a painful, excruciating death.

"It is not, Milord," Dolores hastily explained with a sickly-sweet smile.

Voldemort unfurls the scroll and begins to read. After a moment, with some astonishment and caution, he says, "And how did you go about acquiring such sensitive information Umbridge? Damocles Belby's personal information is very closely guarded by the Ministry of Magic. And with your demotion-."

Voldemort's voice lingered on the last word causing Dolores's face to darken with humiliation but faked a calm demeanor. "Ah, but-," Dolores said in a simpering voice, "-I have my ways, Milord. And there are those that still owe me a favor or two"

A cold, vicious expression appears on Voldemort's face that would have sent a lesser witch screaming in fear. "In that case, you have a semblance of my gratitude, Dolores Umbridge," Voldemort said in a rare show of praise.

"Of course, Milord," Dolores sweetly said.

"Master," Voldemort vehemently corrected.

Dolores paused, before answering again, "Of course, Master."

Voldemort sneers in satisfaction and tilts his head to his side. "And what do you think of that Runcorn? A traitor to the Ministry of Magic?" He disdainfully said as he turned his crimson snake-like eyes back to her.

Blinking around in confusion and unease, Dolores's beady eyes dart around and quiver with dread at seeing a silent six-foot shadow emerge from the darkness to her left. Tall, and powerfully built the figure of Albert Runcorn steps into the light. His black hair seems to absorb all light while his trimmed black beard begins to move as his gravelly voice emerges out into the clearing. "A mere demoted intern dares to betray the Ministry of Magic? It would seem that we have been rather lax in that department. I will have to ensure that is corrected, most promptly."

"Sir," Dolores hastily explained, "I was merely seeing to the Ministry of Magic's best interests!"

"It is not your place to do so," Runcorn derisively answered.

Dolores's eyes dart in panic as she takes a step back from both wizards. "Sir, I was only doing what no one else would! Please have mercy!"

"When have you ever known me to be merciful, Umbridge?" Runcorn matter-of-factly replied as horror and shock flashed across the frog-like face of Dolores Umbridge.

"Master?! Please intercede on my behalf," Dolores whirled around and pleaded at Voldemort. "I have done all that was requested of me!"

"You will find that no such thing was requested of you, Umbridge," Voldemort sardonically murmured as his spider-like fingers caressed the furled-up parchment in his hand. "Why it was you, who approached me and not the other way around."

Umbridge's eyes fill with panic, "Nagini," Voldemort practically purred as the serpent coiled ready to spring but did not attack as instructed to. The serpent's muscles quivered, but the serpent's eyes remained fixated on the pudgy witch and recall a forgotten time, a forgotten voice that haunted her nightmares of memories long vanished.