Something Golden

56.

August 18 1997

"You're a liar." Umbridge sneers down at the woman.

"N-no," she stutters. "I told you my mother is a witch and m-my father is a muggle."

"Enough!" Umbridge shouts, snapping the wand in half. "Lieutenant General." I step forward. "Dispose of Mrs. Parsons."

I pivot on my heel, facing the terrified woman. Her fingers grip onto me as she begs for mercy. "Please, I have a family." Her tear filled eyes are met by my glazed over ones, unmoved by her pleas.

The sound of my knife sliding out of its holster causes her body to shrink back into the chair, her hands now raised in front of her face as she screams.

"Silence her, Lieutenant." Umbridge commands.

Gathering her wrists in my left hand and yanking them down, I run the edge of the blade against the mid of her throat. Her wails muffled as blood begins pouring out and down the front of her body. Isaacs is called forward, he removes the body from the premises as I wipe the blood off on my sleeve.

"I hate it when they scream." Umbridge scoffs.

"Then perhaps you should have taken my suggestion in using a silencio." I tell her.

The corner of her mouth lifts. "That would take away the fun though."

What an annoying woman. Twenty cases a day, twenty piercing screams ringing in my ears. I'll be lucky if I'm able to still hear by the end of the week.

As she's talking to Mafalda while Yaxley drags in the next individual, a flash of light coming from her chest catches my attention.

"Thomas Hawthorne." Yaxley tells me, handing me the case file.

Approaching the stand, I take a closer look at the necklace hanging from Umbridge's neck.

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

August 20 1997

"You're certain it was the locket?" Potter asks me for the hundredth time.

"I am not repeating myself again." I say, leaning back into my chair.

I've been here for an hour now and the fuckwit still can't comprehend what I've said. What is so hard to understand? Umbridge is sporting the Slytherin locket that doubles as a horcrux like it's a fucking fashion statement. It's rather straight forward but leave it to scarhead to have zero ability to process such simple information.

"How do you know it was the locket?" Weasley asks.

"And how did Umbridge get it?" Potter adds.

"I'm not answering either of those questions."

"Why not?" They both ask simultaneously.

"Because they're dumb." I tell them. "I know it's extremely difficult, but at least try to use your tiny brains for once before asking questions that have obvious answers."

Oh good, I can literally see the wheels in their heads spinning. It takes an embarrassingly long time but the bulb finally lights.

"Voldemort gave it to her!" Potter exclaims.

"What a fucking revelation." I groan.

"But why?"

I stay silent as I stare at him, my arms folded across my chest as I lift a bored brow.

"Can you not be a pompous dick for two seconds and just tell us?" He asks.

Useless.

"After further investigation, the locket was confiscated last Thursday from a man who was trying to pawn it off on the street." I inform them. "Voldemort is an extremely paranoid person, if you'd even classify him as such anymore. Regardless, he'd want to keep the locket nearby so that he can keep tabs on it. Umbridge is also constantly escorted by a high rank which secures the safety of it."