RP: Finally, results.
Date: 11 March 1999
Character: Dolores Umbridge
Location: her home
Status: private (but the results will be public tomorrow)
Summary: After more fiddling than she wanted, Dolores is finally ready to take her allegations public.
Completion: Complete
Dolores managed not to shout out her triumph as she closed the door, but she did pump her fist in the air silently as soon as it was securely fastened.
Getting Elidocia Waltham here had proven far more complicated than it ought to have been; the woman had been abroad, first on a 'skiing' holiday--more likely another trip with another of the tramp's 'friends', with skiing low on the agenda, but this didn't matter--and then, as she was already on-site, sending reports from Austria regarding the events surrounding a disaster at the Goblin mining facility beneath the mountains outside Galtür.
Honestly, it was as though the entire Wizarding World, including the bloody terrain of Europe, was working against decency. Perhaps the ridiculous Muggle predictions regarding the upcoming end of the world weren't wrong, after all.
She set the thought aside again, and refocused on the events of the evening.
Waltham was finally back on British soil. Dolores had considered going to her in the first place, but had thought it unlikely she was free to travel, and while she supposed she might have got across the Channel all right, her French was dreadful and her German not much better. Well! She'd never expected to need them; proper witches and wizards spoke English!
She'd stayed home and waited, instead, taking advantage of opportunities where she found them, to photograph Shacklebolt at the home of the Tonks traitor, and continuing to riffle through his trash from time to time. Disgusting, and ultimately not productive--he was clearly more cautious than Waltham--but worth the effort regardless; she'd managed to cobble together enough scraps from his correspondence to duplicate a rather impressive "letter" regarding his involvement in the very disaster Waltham had been covering.
Which neatly explained what the woman was doing investigating him, in case readers should wonder at the sudden shift.
It was, if she did say so herself, a brilliant plan.
Just because she couldn’t catch him in any act herself, hobbled as she was by her lack of access to proper Ministry accounts and materials, didn't mean he wasn't just as guilty as she knew he must be. Even benign neglect--ha! Consorting with traitors and devaluing their world was hardly benign!--was bad enough, but she knew he was just careful. He'd been an Auror; he knew how to hide his tracks, just as Dumbledore had, just as Potter and his beloved little friends never had.
She'd got Waltham here using the leverage she'd found before, but after that, she'd hardly had to apply any pressure at all.
Waltham had read the letter, eyes widening, then taken a single glance at the photographs, of the two of them laughing over an intimate supper at her place, and drawn her own conclusions. The article would be in the morning papers, both describing the 'facts' and speculating as to what else might be going on. And she'd been sure to see to it Waltham understood the elements that had to be included no matter what her editors said: that Shacklebolt was obviously sleeping with his assistant, that he was consorting with who-knew-how-many traitors, who themselves were closely related to Death Eaters and Dark Creatures, if not those things themselves--no mention of his interactions with Potter, obviously, as that would only tend to remind people of their little "hero"--that he'd been in contact with several of the remaining known associates of Grindelwald on the continent in his efforts to destabilize the gold standard, that he hadn't made any headway in re-establishing traditional Wizarding values. That ought to work nicely.
The entire Auror corps would be called into question, of course, and with any luck Shacklebolt himself would be distracted enough to allow Dolores to gain access to the Offices of the Minister.
It wouldn't be difficult, once there, to find the proof. She'd had free run of the place, when dear Cornelius had been otherwise engaged, and then when Pius had been …indisposed between public appearances. She knew the hidey-holes and illusions, and while the passwords had certainly been changed, she'd be able to see through the locks to manipulate them. She was sure the Eye had been used this way by its former owner, in his various efforts to control the Ministry for Dumbledore.
This called for a celebratory drink, at least.
She looked through her patch and the door to be sure Waltham had truly gone, then rubbed her hands together and put on the Glamour she'd been using for trips to Knockturn Alley. Their whisky was better there, and their …other pleasures, as well.
Character: Dolores Umbridge
Location: her home
Status: private (but the results will be public tomorrow)
Summary: After more fiddling than she wanted, Dolores is finally ready to take her allegations public.
Completion: Complete
Dolores managed not to shout out her triumph as she closed the door, but she did pump her fist in the air silently as soon as it was securely fastened.
Getting Elidocia Waltham here had proven far more complicated than it ought to have been; the woman had been abroad, first on a 'skiing' holiday--more likely another trip with another of the tramp's 'friends', with skiing low on the agenda, but this didn't matter--and then, as she was already on-site, sending reports from Austria regarding the events surrounding a disaster at the Goblin mining facility beneath the mountains outside Galtür.
Honestly, it was as though the entire Wizarding World, including the bloody terrain of Europe, was working against decency. Perhaps the ridiculous Muggle predictions regarding the upcoming end of the world weren't wrong, after all.
She set the thought aside again, and refocused on the events of the evening.
Waltham was finally back on British soil. Dolores had considered going to her in the first place, but had thought it unlikely she was free to travel, and while she supposed she might have got across the Channel all right, her French was dreadful and her German not much better. Well! She'd never expected to need them; proper witches and wizards spoke English!
She'd stayed home and waited, instead, taking advantage of opportunities where she found them, to photograph Shacklebolt at the home of the Tonks traitor, and continuing to riffle through his trash from time to time. Disgusting, and ultimately not productive--he was clearly more cautious than Waltham--but worth the effort regardless; she'd managed to cobble together enough scraps from his correspondence to duplicate a rather impressive "letter" regarding his involvement in the very disaster Waltham had been covering.
Which neatly explained what the woman was doing investigating him, in case readers should wonder at the sudden shift.
It was, if she did say so herself, a brilliant plan.
Just because she couldn’t catch him in any act herself, hobbled as she was by her lack of access to proper Ministry accounts and materials, didn't mean he wasn't just as guilty as she knew he must be. Even benign neglect--ha! Consorting with traitors and devaluing their world was hardly benign!--was bad enough, but she knew he was just careful. He'd been an Auror; he knew how to hide his tracks, just as Dumbledore had, just as Potter and his beloved little friends never had.
She'd got Waltham here using the leverage she'd found before, but after that, she'd hardly had to apply any pressure at all.
Waltham had read the letter, eyes widening, then taken a single glance at the photographs, of the two of them laughing over an intimate supper at her place, and drawn her own conclusions. The article would be in the morning papers, both describing the 'facts' and speculating as to what else might be going on. And she'd been sure to see to it Waltham understood the elements that had to be included no matter what her editors said: that Shacklebolt was obviously sleeping with his assistant, that he was consorting with who-knew-how-many traitors, who themselves were closely related to Death Eaters and Dark Creatures, if not those things themselves--no mention of his interactions with Potter, obviously, as that would only tend to remind people of their little "hero"--that he'd been in contact with several of the remaining known associates of Grindelwald on the continent in his efforts to destabilize the gold standard, that he hadn't made any headway in re-establishing traditional Wizarding values. That ought to work nicely.
The entire Auror corps would be called into question, of course, and with any luck Shacklebolt himself would be distracted enough to allow Dolores to gain access to the Offices of the Minister.
It wouldn't be difficult, once there, to find the proof. She'd had free run of the place, when dear Cornelius had been otherwise engaged, and then when Pius had been …indisposed between public appearances. She knew the hidey-holes and illusions, and while the passwords had certainly been changed, she'd be able to see through the locks to manipulate them. She was sure the Eye had been used this way by its former owner, in his various efforts to control the Ministry for Dumbledore.
This called for a celebratory drink, at least.
She looked through her patch and the door to be sure Waltham had truly gone, then rubbed her hands together and put on the Glamour she'd been using for trips to Knockturn Alley. Their whisky was better there, and their …other pleasures, as well.