Chaos and Order - A Multiverse Fanfic

Mystifying waves of this stupendous revelation about the Ancient Magical Script were blasting the walls of Darcie's little but vigorous heart.

A customer at this time was truly an exceptional moment of a hideous eyesore.

Nonetheless, she was in charge of the bookshop in her employer's stead today, and the job must be carried out with uncanny professionalism.

Toad!

It was indeed the word that rang in Darcie's mind that moment she saw her.

Garbed in all pink, a short, squat witch, resembling a large toad, was standing in front of the shop, her face plastered with a toad-like smile.

The witch had a broad, flabby face, a wide, slack mouth, and a little neck. Her eyes were bulging and pouchy, and in her mousy brown hair, there was a black velvet bow.

Darcie observed the bow, and it made her reevaluate her first impression.

A fly on a pink toad!

Darcie recognized her at a glance.

She was an avid reader of the Daily Prophet, and it was too hard to not remember a face who seemed to have tried laboriously to not let the people forget it.

Dolores Umbridge, the Head of Improper Use of Magic Office.

As Darcie looked at her, the witch, wearing a pink coat and skirt, was looking back at her.

The young Malfoy noticed the flicker of Umbridge's eyebrows, the flutter of her pupils, the scorn behind her toad-like smile, and the disgust, added with a touch of fear, on her face.

Darcie was too familiar with these looks.

If not all, then many adult wizards and witches looked at her so, thinking of her as the spoiled daughter of Malfoys and the rumored blood of the Dark Lord.

Even then, Darcie couldn't help but notice that the look which Umbridge gave her bordered hate and repulsion.

It was almost as though even if there weren't rumors about her background, Dolores would have still hated her as much.

However, even this realization failed to prevent Darcie from acting calm and noble, as desired by her profession and status.

"Good evening, Ms. Umbridge," Darcie greeted, giving a curtsy.

The older witch had already welcomed herself in, her steps small and hopping.

Mr. Ollivander stood up too, his face pale and white. How much did she hear? He thought.

"You are Lucius' daughter, aren't you?" Dolores remarked, her voice high-pitched and quite girlish. "Where are Mr. Pigplanter Hillam and Madam Villanelle? And what might you be doing here, Mr. Ollivander?"

"Mr. Hillam and Madam Villanelle both are out, managing the coordination between the various shops for the Grand Fair," Darcie answered, looking up at the bureaucrat. "Mr. Ollivander was kind enough to…"

"Hem-Hem!" Umbridge interrupted Darcie's explanation by clearing her throat. It felt like a toad was croaking somewhere far without rain. "Are you Mr. Ollivander, little girl? I think not. Then why are you answering for him?

"And did I hear it right? Both the key staff of the bookshop are out, leaving the shop in your hands. That is a clear infringement of statutory codes. I must report it."

Eh?! Darcie and the old Wandmaker had confused expressions on their faces.

"No, Ms. Umbridge…" Darcie tried to clarify.

"Tut-Tut!" Dolores tsked. "Talking back to a senior bureaucrat in the matter of laws… Lucius didn't seem to have taught you enough. It's OK. Now that I am here, I will educate you in his place properly. Dotting parents don't realize the importance of straightening out their naughty children at the right age, right?"

Darcie shut her mouth and observed the witch with a stunned look on her face. How could someone be so unreasonable?

Even more perplexing thought was why was Dolores Umbridge acting so against her.

If it was any other child in Darcie's place, then they would have lost their composure. But Darcie had tolerated worse insinuations and survived even worse whispers. Her calmness, even for her age, was a symbol of her nobility and composed personality.

Rational thoughts bubbled up in her mind on their own now.

Father is a Governor of Hogwarts, Darcie analyzed. However, in the upper circle, all know that he has no goodwill toward muggle-loving Professor Dumbledore. Not to mention, we are a Pure Blood Supremacist family.

From what I have read in the Daily Prophet, Ms. Umbridge shouldn't be acting so in front of a Malfoy. She has ill intentions, but I am not the ultimate target. I am just a medium. Then…

Darcie nodded inwardly. If she wasn't wrong, then both she and the old man had fallen prey to the internal politics of ministry.

Mr. Ollivander stepped up, now gaining color as he realized the matter of their discussion hadn't reached this witch's ears.

"Well, considering the situation," he began, but then got interrupted again.

"Oh, no, no, no, no," Dolores shook her head, beaming. "Before the closing of the shop at the proper time, at least one staff member must be present to receive a customer. Especially in a shop that sells wands. Your presence here demands an inquiry, Mr. Ollivander."

The old Wandmaker's face grew hard now.

"I remember all the wands sold by me, Ms. Umbridge," he whispered. "Ah! Birch and Dragon Heartstring. 8 inches. An abnormally short wand, am I right?

"The short length of a wand doesn't necessarily reflect the physique of the wielder, let me clarify. Rather, these wands usually select those with stunted moral character."

"What did you say?!" Dolores squeaked, her chin pointed up. But Mr. Ollivander had already passed her, his back slightly hunched, and his steps heavy.

When he was about to walk out of the bookshop, he paused and looked over his shoulder, his gaze landing on Darcie.

"Do you know what Salazar Slytherin was famous for?" he asked Darcie.

Before Umbridge could turn around and look at the asker of this sudden, strange question, Mr. Ollivander winked at Darcie walked. It didn't seem like he feared any inquiry whatsoever.

Darcie frowned.

Forgetting the customer for a moment, her mind raced about all the things she had learned about one of the four great wizards.

Anyone else in her place would have needed some time. But, coupled with conversation they had been having, and where they were forced to leave it off, Darcie decoded the answer in a moment.

However, even its persistence couldn't help it from becoming an obscured, hidden, and feared art, leaving its ancient users to pass it down only one way; Orally. This art got distorted to the point that it almost became… a bloodline trait.

And Salazar Slytherin was a…

Parseltongue!

The word exploded in Darcie's mind.

"Hmm-Hmm!" Dolores Umbridge cleared her throat, narrowing her eyes at Darcie.

The young Malfoy forced herself to calm down. "May I ask which book you would like to buy, Ms. Umbridge?"

"I am not here to buy any book," Umbridge said, looking around for anything out of the rules. "The ministry has seen me worthy to take the position of Head of this Chess Tournament."

Darcie's mind jolted at this declaration. Neither the minister nor Madam Villanelle had mentioned anything related to Ms. Umbridge until now.

It wouldn't be a surprise if she had been allocated this position only hours earlier, Darcie reflected.

"A worthy choice indeed, Ms. Umbridge," Darcie said, shocking the older witch. "I've been following your outstanding work through the Daily Prophet. It's truly worth praising."

Dolores Umbridge looked too stunned to utter a single word.

Suddenly, her toad-like figure swayed, and she smiled. "I am very much looking forward to getting to know you, then. And I'm sure we'll be wonderful friends! Now tell me, where will I find your superiors? I must let them know about my arrival and their infringements."

Darcie politely let the older witch know where Mr. Hillam and Madam Villanelle might be in Diagon Alley.

"Good." Dolores croaked. "Until I return with them, you are forbidden to leave the premises."

Darcie ignored the obvious threat hidden behind the word — forbidden.

She followed the older witch out and found Daphne coming towards her from the Brews and Stews. She would stay with her in her room until the end of the Grand Fair. However, the crowd between them prevented Dolores from encountering the little Greengrass.

Daphne came to a stop by Darcie's side at the entrance, and followed her gaze, her eyes landing on the broad pink back of a short witch. "Who was that?"

Darcie said nothing.

Her eyes were set dead on Dolores, and with every breath, her pupils kept narrowing in her direction almost as though she feared she would lose Umbridge's sight in the next moment.

Daphne realized something was wrong, and she looked at Darcie.

Her head turned from her friend to the vanishing witch, and then back at Darcie.

"Darcie! Don't!" Daphne cried.

Too late.

"Aaa-choo!" Dolores sneezed. She took out a pink handkerchief and tapped it on her nose. "Aaa-choo! Cough! Aaaa-chooo!"

The crowd laughed notoriously at Dolores, seeing her suffering from the constant barrage of sneezes and her nose gaining a moist red color.

"Who hexed me?!" Dolores croaked. "I am the Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office! Who dared to… Aaa-chooo! I'll have… Aaaaa-chooo!!!"

"Sternius… Sneezing hex…" Daphne wondered aloud.

Darcie broke her eye contact. She grabbed Daphne's hand and walked back inside the bookshop.

Even when the discourse with Umbridge had left her vexed, Darcie Malfoy seemed too composed to show her annoyance.

***************

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