#dumbridge

“Evil takes the form of... Dolores Umbridge”

have a shit birthday, dumbridge

 AN: Welcome back all, to a new generation of Dumbridge. Okay, so I took some liberties with this one, soo

               Fine day, Sunday. No post on Sundays. No damn letters today. Delores dread the mail. Most of the time it was overdue bills and coupons to the local shops. She lay in her bed, looking out to the ocean. The sun was rising in the horizon, shining light on her beautiful stumpy leg. Though not many may think so, Umbridge knew the one person who would. Albus Dumbledore. He loved every single piece of the toad that was Delores Umbridge, and he used to make sure that she knew every day.

               She starred out into the water. She thought of Dumbledore, as she often did. She wanted him there with her. He would make everything go away. When she was with him, the outside world didn’t exist. She missed that feeling. She laid back and slipped off her panties. The thought of him there with her turned her on. In the old days they would spend Sunday mornings in bed together, talking, casting charms, making sweet love. She had tried to date over the years but it was never the same. Somehow her mind always turned to Dumbledore.

               She orgasmed. For a moment, sweet bliss. It faded as quickly as it had come. She laid back to catch her breath. She got up and put on a house coat. Through the kitchen, and out through the back door of her cottage.

She followed the path out of her back gate into the forest behind. After walking for a few minutes she passed a bed of black roses. She made a sharp right at an old oak tree with the symbol of the Deathly Hallows carved into the roots. She walked into the bristle, when it suddenly became a meadow with a headstone in the centre. Carved on the front in his thin slanted writing:

 Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore

1881-2025

Beloved Headmaster

Beloved Son

Beloved Brother

Beloved Lover

                 She fell to her knees in front of it. “Oh Dumbledore…” She whispered. A hand fell on her shoulder. Startled, she fell aside to look at the stranger. Before her stood Aberforth Dumbledore.

               “A-a-aberforth?” She stuttered, “What are you doing here?”

               “Hello, Delores. He sent me.”

               “He?” sounding confused.

               “Dumbledore.”

               Umbridge shot up to her feet. She backed away slowly.

               “What? No, that’s impossible!” She started to cry. “He died while I was still sucking hi… Never mind.”

               “It’s alright I know. My brother has filled me in on your adventures.”

               “How? He’s been dead for years.”

               “It was…” He turned around and started to cry. Umbridge stepped forward to comfort him. “He had a horcrux.”

               “What?!”

               “When Ariana died… Grindlewald and I had no idea who had killed her. But Albus did. He was ashamed, that’s why he cancelled his trip with Gellert. He couldn’t handle knowing that he killed his sister. But he figured a horcrux might come in handy. He never told anyone. Until… I heard noises coming from a box in my storage. I opened a box of Ariana’s things, and her necklace was shaking around. As soon as I touched it, it stopped. When I let go it would start up soon after, so I kept it with me.

               Soon, I started to loose time during the day. Minutes would go by and I wouldn’t remember what had happened. Then I got a note. It said

                 Aberforth,

                               I have kept this a secret from everyone from all my life. When Ariana died, none of us knew who cast the spell that killed her.  But I knew. It was my spell that killed her. I shut my self away, I couldn’t live with myself. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was young and naïve, I thought I could bring her back. All I did was make a horcrux. I kept it because I thought it might it be useful, well I was rig-

                 And then I woke up at my desk, in the middle of writing a sentence.”

               “I can’t believe he never told me.” Said Umbridge. She turned to the headstone and put her hand on it.

               “I’m sorry.”

               “What do you have to be sorry about?”

               “It’s me.”

               Umbridge turned around. Aberforth’s body stood before her, but there was an unmistakable twinkle in his eye.  

               “Dumbledore? Is it really you?” She cried, running at him. He embraced her.

               “Yes, my love! It’s me! I can’t stay for long, but I just want you to know I’ve missed you so much and I lo…”

               His head fell, and second later Aberforth came back to his body.

               “I’d at least like a sign that he’s taking over my body.”

               “Bring him back!” Umbridge wailed.

               “He’ll be back don’t worry,” he hugged her.

               In time he explained how after he died the soul in his horcrux awoke in a limbo. The limbo was filled with the souls of other wizards who have created horcrux’s. Dumbledore happened to hit it off with them. Especially when he met the remaining peace’s of Voldemort’s soul who spoke in his name. So joyed to see each other, well, one thing led to another and… Well you know the rest. He tried to explain the version of intimacy they took part in, a strange temporary merging of their souls. The best he could describe it was “In our eternity in limbo, a brief moment in heaven.” It was a sad day in limbo when the last part of Voldemort’s soul was destroyed.

               He told them that the dark wizards knew of a way to return a soul to it’s body. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was possible.

“If they could come back from the dead, why isn’t the world filled with history’s greatest dark wizards?” Delores asked, confused.

“Because they lack one necessary component. People who truly love them.”

They got to work immediately. Dumbledore told them what they would need and places to start looking for them. It would take awhile, considering dark magic supplies were in short supply. The ministry did their best to scourge the country of them after Voldemort’s downfall. In the first few weeks Albus mastered switching into his brother, allowing him to take control for hours at a time.

               The longer Delores and Albus could spend together the more they remembered how much they loved each other. They held off being intimate at first, for respect of Aberforth’s body. But the longer it took to acquire the ingredients the more they lusted for each other. “What Aberforth doesn’t know won’t hurt him”, as Albus put it. They sat in the bed room. Dumbledore’s blues eyes starred into hers. He leaned in starting kissing her neck, he started moving down and Delores slipped off her dress. He missed her body, he wanted to kiss every inch of her.

               He got to her breast. Ahh, her breasts, how Dumbledore longed for her breasts in limbo. He missed kissing them, touching them, squeezing them, fucking them, cumming all over them. He missed the shape of them, sagging down like a drop of water on a sweating glass. Droopy, but surprisingly perky. He kissed the nipple and starting cupping them in Aberforth’s hands. He started to get hard.

               It felt weird getting hard in Aberforth’s body. It felt unfamiliar. His curiosity overtook him. No matter how much Dumbledore missed Umbridge’s boobs, he had to see his brothers dick. He stood up and pulled down his brother’s pants to reveal a centaur-like cock. He lifted his hand and started to stroke it, getting a sense for the genitalia. Umbridge came down off the bed and took hold of it. She started feeling it up with her small hands, one cupping the balls, the other grasping his cock. Her fingers could barely cover half the circumference. She moved her hands up and down, stroking the shaft. Dumbledore began to moan. Umbridge smiled, she missed his noises of pleasure.

               Dumbledore had had enough, it had been too long. He picked Umbridge up and plopped her right on his brother’s dick and started thrusting inside her. She whispered in his ear “Dumbledore, yes...” and bit the lobe. He felt at home in her. He longed for it in limbo. He gripped her tightly, and with a gasp he began to cum. With one last thrust his juices erupted into her. He loosened his grip and kissed her neck as his juices start to drip onto the floor.

“Albus…” she panted.

“Delores… I don’t think I can concentrate much longer…”

At this she started to panic. Albus dropped her to the floor and sat on the bed exhausted. Delores wiped up his cum and ran over to the desk.  Albus’ eye twinkle was staring to fade. She wrote a quick note saying how they had a lovely evening in town and that she’s gone to bed early so she could get an early start in the morning, and darted out of the room.

The next morning Aberforth entered the kitchen yawning. Umbridge was sipping at her tea starring intensely at the morning paper, trying to keep her cool. He poured himself a cup and walked back to his room. Perfect. His usual routine. Delores watched him leave and sighed in relief. It seems he hasn’t noticed anything. The day went on. Umbridge tried to make as little eye contact as possible, but not so little as to suggest something was wrong.

As the days went on it seemed they were in the clear. They kept on researching and hunting down the necessary components. And with help from Aberforth’s connections from The Hog’s Head, soon they had everything they needed: thestral hair, snake of a gorgon, a phoenix heart, and a blossoming black rose grown in the Black Forests of Germany. There was only one thing left to get. The soul of a dementor.

Delores thought it best not try and capture one from Azkaban, she didn’t want to draw the attention of the Ministry too much. Aberforth had heard rumors that a flock of dementors from Voldemort’s former army had migrated to the northern islands of Russia. Though they were just rumors they were even more determined. They set off posthaste. They caught the next boat they could to northern Russia. After weeks of searching, they finally found what they were looking for.

“Look there.” Umbridge pointed to a tree.

A black slime covered the bark. Aberforth went to inspect it. In shined dully in the setting sun. He dabbed his finger in it.

“It’s freezing.” He said, rubbing it in his fingers. He sniffed it. “It smells of death. We’re getting close.”

They continued on through the woods. As they moved forward it began to grow cold. Umbridge began to shiver, and pulled and jumper from her bag.

“Aberforth, I think they’re near.” She said, pulling it on.

“I think you’re right.” He replied, as a sudden wave of fear and sadness came over them.

The wind blew, pushing leaves through the trees. In the distance they saw a black wisp appear from behind a tree. “Aberforth, there.”

“Alright. Are you ready?”

“I think so.”

“You know what failing could mean…”

“Yes.”

She took a step forward. She hesitated, shivering. She was scared. There was only one shot at this. If she failed she could never be with Albus again. Albus. As soon as she thought of him the shivering stopped. She stood tall and ready. She strutted confidently towards the dementor. With Albus on her mind there was no way she could fail. She thought of the first time they made love, all those years ago in his office, oh how she missed those days. She started to cry tears of happiness. As the tear crawled down her face, the dementor turned. It could smell it. It started gliding fast towards her. She kept her pace as it moved, staring it down where the eyes should have been. It was feet from her, it made the lunge to kiss, but was able to act first. She reached out her hands and grabbed its slimy head. She brought it in close and kissed it where it’s lips should have been. The black slimey cloth oozed over her lips and chin. As she made contact the dementor shrieked loudly, causing a strange echo in the woods. The black cloak billowed wildly in the wind.

Umbridge pulled away. The dementor shrieked again and opened its mouth hole wide. As the cloak fell, a black ball of swirling grit exited out of the mouth. The cloak hit the ground and started to fall in on itself, as if the body that once inhabited it slowly dissolved away. She brought out her wand and pointed it at the soul. She cast a spell and a barrier surrounded it. She scooped it into her bag and returned to Aberforth.

“Well done.” He said, moving in to hug her.

“Let’s go home.” She said quietly. There was a loud crack in the woods, and they were gone.

The returned to Dumbledore’s grave sight with the materials. They both pointed their wands at the ground and slowly raised them. As they did so the ground began to rupture, and Albus Dumbledore’s decaying body rose into the air. It hovered horizontally a few feet above the ground. Delores placed the horcrux on his chest. They ground up the ingredients, and sprinkled it over his body. Finally, Umbridge removed the dementors soul from her bag. She removed the charm to ready it for the ritual. They began to walk around Albus’ body, chanting in rehearsed cryptic tongues, waving their hands and wands in complicated patterns. The ground-up materials on his chest began to melt and boil. Soon they burst into flames, engulfing the entire body. As they continued to chant and dance, the horcrux started to make horrible noises, as if somebody was crying in horrible pain. It began to shatter, blowing away the parts of the necklace. The metal blew away and revealing a shining silver ball of mist. Umbridge pointed her wand at the soul and flung it into the flames. The two souls began to dance together, almost fighting but more elegant. As they continued to chant Umbridge could tell something was wrong. It wasn’t working. She looked to Aberforth. There was regret in his face.

“I’m so sorry. There’s only one more thing we need to complete the ritual. Don’t stop chanting.” He said with sadness coating his voice.

Umbridge watched as Aberforth walked into the flames, sacrificing his life for his brothers. Umbridge began to cry at his nobility to their love. As he was engulfed in the flames, they turned a dark green and began to hiss wildly. The noises became more intense, like animals fighting and roaring, growing louder and louder.

Suddenly the flames disappeared, and was instantly replaced by a radiating bright white light. It began to fade and drop to the ground. Albus Dumbledore’s feet touched the ground the light disappeared. His naked body glowed in the dawn’s light as he looked at his feet. His gaze moved up his body and starred at his hands as if they were the most glorious thing in the world. That was until he looked up and met Delores’ eyes. Without saying a word, he ran into her loving tender arms. Tears poured from their eyes.

It’s November 15th, 1981 and the Ministry of Magic is bumbling with busy people, elated at the end of the war. Still, there is much work to be done...

“He let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Harry's right hand, cut into his skin as though traced there by a scalpel — yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth... He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill upon it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time; once again, the words had been cut into his skin, once again they healed over seconds later. And on it went. Again and again Harry wrote the words on the parchment in what he soon came to realise was not ink, but his own blood. And again and again the words were cut into the back of his hand, healed, and then reappeared the next time he set quill to parchment.”- Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Dumbridge: Yes dear?

Harry: Nothing.

Dumbridge: That’s right...

Dolores Jane Umbridge

Sirius Black: "I know [Umbridge] by reputation and I'm sure she's no Death Eater —