Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the original characters I create.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 360: A Broken Mind
A.N - Update: I have just uploaded the images for the main cast of this arc antagonists, including the Dark Lord himself. You can check them out for free on my P@atreon. -
The next week was incredibly stressful for Harry.
Madam Umbridge's behavior was becoming increasingly unstable and deranged.
She was giving detentions to Lyra and Ginny every day. And it wasn't just them, but also Luna, Astoria, and even Daphne had been handed several detentions too.
She was punishing students for breathing too loudly, blinking too many times, or not greeting her with enough politeness.
Harry knew he would have to deal with it personally. He didn't want to think about what kind of punishments Umbridge might inflict on her current mental state, so he always responded with, "I'll take care of it."
Most of his afternoons were spent coming and going from her office, and the worst part was that he hadn't been able to discover whether Voldemort had altered his plans in any way.
Interrogating Rookwood was pointless since he was merely a meat puppet, and approaching him carried the risk of exposing himself to the Dark Lord.
He needed to find a way to lure Voldemort out in person.
'The last time he came to the castle was during our seventh year, but I can't wait that long. What was the trigger? The reason he felt confident enough to take on Hogwarts… Oh, I remember now.'
It had been so long since those days, that it felt like several lifetimes had passed. But now it was all coming back.
It started at the end of his sixth year, with the death of Albus Dumbledore.
'If that could accelerate his plans… if that—'
"Harry, are you listening?"
A voice nearby interrupted his thoughts.
"I'll take care of it!" he snapped instinctively, a mix of frustration and exhaustion evident in his tone.
He then saw Neville Longbottom's pale face staring back at him, a spoon in hand.
"I-I just wanted a bit of potato salad..."
"Ah..." Harry had almost forgotten it was dinnertime.
"Here, Nev." Lyra reached forward, grabbed the glass bowl, and passed it to Neville.
"Thanks..." Neville smiled, clearly relieved.
Lyra then turned to her brother. "Are you okay? You look more tired than usual. Is this about the dance?"
The mere mention of that word caught Ginny's attention as she glanced over.
"Oh..." Harry suddenly remembered another thing that was stressing him.
The Yule Ball had been officially announced, and though Ginny hadn't said anything, it was obvious from the looks she was giving him that she was waiting for him to invite her.
"You know she's waiting, right?" Lyra whispered in his ear.
"I know..." He wasn't looking forward to that conversation. "I'll talk to her tomorrow."
"Great, then we can all go together." Lyra had already been invited by Neville...or rather, she had made him invite her on the second day after the announcement.
Neville had been awkward and shy about it when Lyra asked him. But since he was required to attend as one of the champions, he was at least happy to attend with someone he cared about.
All of a sudden, a loud commotion erupted in the Great Hall.
Students turned to look at the teachers' table, where someone had fallen from their chair and was now making strange noises.
The Headmaster stood up and rushed to help, along with the other professors.
"Call Madam Pomfrey, quick!" they heard Professor McGonagall shout.
"That's Umbridge!" someone at the Gryffindor table exclaimed.
They couldn't see much from their seats, so many students stood up and tried to approach, but were quickly stopped by Dumbledore.
"Everyone! Stay in your seats!" he shouted with authority before turning his attention back to the situation.
"I'll take her directly. I can Apparate to the infirmary. Help me get her up," the Headmaster instructed the others.
Hagrid effortlessly lifted the pudgy professor, helping keep her steady while Dumbledore raised his wand.
Moments later, the two of them disappeared from the Great Hall, leaving a room full of shocked students.
The silence was broken by none other than Lyra.
"Was she meowing?"
She was...over and over.
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Later that night, Harry received a summons from the Headmaster, delivered by one of the house-elves.
When he arrived, he found Dumbledore sitting alone, concern etched on his face.
"That bad?" Harry asked.
"Harry, be honest with me... how many times have you Obliviated that woman?" Dumbledore asked gravely.
Harry frowned. That was a difficult question. He'd honestly lost count.
"It doesn't have to be exact," Dumbledore added.
Harry thought for a moment. "A hundred...?"
"A hundred?!" Dumbledore exclaimed.
"Maybe a hundred and fifty... I don't know. She's been giving out a lot of detentions lately," Harry admitted.
Dumbledore muttered something under his breath.
"Were you aware that even a single Obliviation carries the risk of causing permanent damage to a person's mind? This is why it's only used in extreme circumstances."
"So how bad is it?" Harry asked, though he could already guess the answer.
"Well... I had to deliver her to the mental ward at St. Mungo's. According to Madam Pomfrey, and I quote... 'Her mind is a potato.'"
"So that bad, huh?" Harry sighed. He had wanted to avoid this scenario and had hoped she would at least last until the end of the tournament.
"Let me know when they decide on her replacement. I assume you have no say in that matter," Harry remarked.
"You assumed correctly. I do not. We can only hope they choose someone better than Miss Umbridge." Dumbledore then noticed something in Harry's expression. "Is there something on your mind?"
"The beginning of an idea... Give me some time to think it over. I want to know who her replacement is before making a decision."
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