Voldemort shifted lazily, letting the warm firelight reach more of his body.
"Dolores, my servant, your plan is excellent. Secretly stir up conflict between the Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore, muddy the waters...
Go ahead."
Umbridge burst into exaggerated sobs, prostrating herself on the floor and loudly singing his praises. Her groveling was so shameless that even several Death Eaters standing in the shadows secretly frowned.
It was too much. This woman simply had no sense of shame.
No wonder she had risen so quickly through the Ministry of Magic. In such a short time, she had found the approach that suited her best.
Perhaps it was because his powers had waned, but Voldemort, in his weakened state, particularly enjoyed such extravagant displays of loyalty.
As a result, Umbridge's standing among the Death Eaters had soared, and she had quickly earned his trust.
The two narrow slits in Voldemort's face opened a fraction, revealing a trace of scarlet.
"Dolores, what about the other matter?"
"Master, the moment I received your orders, I went to investigate personally-" Her sobbing vanished at once, replaced by a respectful report.
Whether deliberately or otherwise, Umbridge emphasized "orders," "the moment," and "personally" before moving on to the result.
"I exhumed the remains in the graveyard. After a thorough examination and comparison, I confirmed that they belonged to a woman."
The scarlet widened a little. Voldemort opened his mouth and gave a hoarse laugh, filled with delight.
"So my faithful servant-Barty Crouch Jr.-has not left me?"
"It would seem so."
"Find him, Dolores."
"Your will shall be done-"
Umbridge prostrated herself again, her black cloak stretching taut over her body.
She looked like an enormous toad preparing to spit venom.
Crackle.
Burning wood crackled in the dormitory stove. Bright flames licked upward, and an aluminum