Magic and a Trench Knife

"The Cruciatus will loosen your tongue!" the pink hag screeched as she raised her wand to the boy bound in the chair. All around him, his restrained friends screamed their protest.

There was a knock on the door. Four knocks to be precise, by somebody strong enough that their knuckles wrapping on the door made the frame creak. Umbridge stalked over to the door, furious at being interrupted again.

The door swung open to reveal a tall woman in a black suit, black dress shirt, sporting a black tie. But they weren't just black clothing items. The almost seemed to suck in the light around them, making her body seem like an ethereal darkness rather than just clad in black. It was disorienting, and she damn well knew it. She was blonde, though her blue-streaked hair was done up in a messy bun. "Hello there," she said with a smirk. Her accent was distinctly not Received Pronunciation class like the purebloods. Her bright eyes swept the room before returning to the toad of a woman who called herself headmistress of Hogwarts.

"You're interfering with official ministry business!" Umbridge shrieked at the blonde woman.

"You make a poor torturer," she replied with a grin, completely dismissing the pink woman's declaration. "Especially considering you're torturing a Gryffindor. A true Gryffindor would never break under the Cruciatus curse when applied to themselves. Or at least would last long enough for the torturer to lose the advantage," she amended casually. "Take that one's parents for example. Tortured for hours." She gestured to Neville Longbottom with a gloved hand. He nearly growled at the newcomer. She chuckled. There was something about her mirth that left Draco Malfoy feeling chills down his spine. It felt familiar. "Crouch Jr, the Lestrange Brothers and dear old Bellatrix didn't spend hours in that house getting off on torture. They were there for something else. Bellatrix may enjoy hurting people, but she wasn't a fool; at least before Azkaban broke her mind. She was most likely asking about you," she said directly to Neville. The boy in question's eyes widened at her insinuation. "Where is the boy?" the blonde woman intoned in what Draco knew was a startlingly close mimicry of his aunt Bellatrix's voice.

Before anybody could move, there was a large knife plunging through Umbridge's skull from above, the blade stopped only as it reached the interior of her throat. The stranger, now murderer, casually waved her hand, wandlessly silencing the students' panicked reactions to Umbridge's sudden and brutal end. There was a grin on her face that somehow lacked mirth.

The Stranger lifted up the knife, bringing Umbridge's corpse off the ground a few inches before she wiggled the knife a little, causing the former headmistress' body to slide off the blade and gracelessly to the ground. Using her foot, the blonde murderer slammed the door shut, and it locked. With her outstretched hand not holding the knife, she made a fist, her forearm perpendicular to the floor, and jerked it back towards herself like she was doing weight training. All the wands in the room were suddenly propelled out of hands and to the wall behind her, clattering against the wall in disparate clacking sounds. "Ding dong, the bitch is dead," the blonde sang to herself quietly. Though it wasn't quiet enough to go unheard by everyone in the room. Her head jerked up from looking at the dead Umbridge. "Which one of you just pissed yourself? Kindly remove yourself, she said as she opened the door. She took a cloth out of her pocket with which she began cleaning Umbridge's brain matter and skull fragments off her blade. She took out an ebony wand that looked tipped with silver and pointed it at Umbridge while the students didn't move. The corpse of the most hated teacher disappeared like she was never there.

After that, Gregory Goyle fled the room, his trousers indeed soiled. Vincent Crabbe and Millicent Bullstrode followed him; all three having pissed themselves. "Alright then," the blonde said as she took stock of the remaining children too afraid to move. "My name is Delphi, and I'd like to be properly introduced to the lot of you. Roll call, starting with you," she said with a barely discernable sneer, pointing at the girl she knew to be Hermione Granger.

"H-Hermione Granger?"

"Neville Longbottom."

"Ron Weasley."

"Pansy Parkinson."

"Ginny Weasley."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy."

"Luna Pandora Lovegood."

"Harry Potter," the Boy-Who-Lived ground out as he tried to free himself from his bindings.

"Well, why don't you explain exactly what the hell is happening here. You, start," She said now pointing at Granger.

"None of your business," Potter spat at her. He may hate Umbridge, but she reminded him too much of Tom Riddle to be comfortable around her under normal circumstances. And then she went and brutally murdered a high-ranking ministry official.

"Yeah, we won't tell you anything!" Ron Weasley spoke up loudly, loyally backing up his best friend.

The blonde considered him a moment before wandlessly summoning Parkinson across the room who shrieked in surprise. "Pansy!" Malfoy yelped as his house-mate was now in the hands of this woman who made him more afraid than just about anybody.

"Let me go!" Parkinson screamed.

"I think you children are operating on a misconception that you're safe. If you're hoping to interfere, please think again," the blonde woman drawled. "I silenced and locked off this whole room from the outside. Nobody will hear the screams and other noises," Delphi said with a sick grin that brought a swooping dread to everyone's stomach.

"Are you sure you don't want to just tell me? I mean," Delphi paused and lightly shook Parkinson who she was holding up by the scruff of her robes, clear off the ground. "I could use Legillimency to rape your minds, but I don't think that is something any of you can recover from properly before the start of the September term. I'll ask again Miss Granger, what was dear departed Delores hoping to torture out of young Potter here?" There was only petrified silence.

Delphi dropped Parkinson in front of her, her knees and robes now drenched in Umbridge's gore. She reached out and gently tapped her wand against the wall and purred, "Crucio." A darkness poured from the wand in tendrils that spread in branching grooves upon the wall until the plates on the walls shattered over the students, showering them in ceramic. She removed her wand, cancelling the spell, and then lightly crouched down and cupped Parkinson under the chin so her face was raised enough to make eye contact with her classmates. She gently caressed the wand tip along Parkinson's cheek in slow patterns to draw out the moment. The girl was quaking, on the point of hyperventilation. The wand moved up the girl's face until it stopped at her temple, at which point Parkinson started crying.

"Fucking tell her Granger!" Malfoy frantically shouted at the Gryffindor girl.

Delphi looked up at Hermione who was biting her lip so hard there was blood running down her chin. The blonde said, "You know, under different circumstances I might admire your resilience Miss Granger. But you need to learn what you are willing to lose as the price of witholding information. Today, it seems you will lose the moral high ground for the rest of your life. I hope it's worthwhile," she placed the wand tip at the back of Parkinson's head, like a mobster would an execution shot. She licked her lips before letting a sadistic grin light up her face. Granger had tears falling from her wide eyes, but she still kept silent; blood was dripping down her chin as she continued to bite her lip, stopping herself from divulging information that could compromise the Order of the Phoenix or Sirius Black's safety.

"P-Pleaseā€¦" Parkinson brokenly sobbed. Whether she was talking to Hermione, the other Gryffindors or the woman holding her fate in her hands, nobody knew.

"If you're wondering," Delphi said to them all, "This is how to get a confession." But before she could do or say anything further, a quiet and steady voice spoke up.

"Harry was trying to use Umbridge's unimpeded Floo connection to contact his godfather," everyone turned to the student who had spoken up. It wasn't Hermione, or any of the Gryffindors; it was the outcast Luna Lovegood.

Instantly Delphi lifted the wand from the back of Pansy's head and sheathed it in the holster up her opposite sleeve. "Okay, that's a good start," Delphi's sadistic grin somehow morphed into something much warmer. "Congratulations Miss Lovegood, you made the correct choice. You are indeed a hero today. Let that be a lesson to you lions, and you too Mister Malfoy; know when to give a little. Know when the cost is worth paying, and when it's not." With that, Pansy was hauled to her feet and not so gracefully pushed to Luna, who caught the shorter Slytherin girl in a surprisingly sturdy grasp that shifted into a hug as Pansy just wrapped her arms around the taller blonde and sobbed into Luna's shoulder heedless of the attention being paid to her. Luna looked baffled, and to those who knew her, that was a rarity indeed.

"So you were trying to contact Sirius Black. It's a shame Dumbledore never used his astoundingly powerful political clout and official, legal position to ensure a fair trial for the man." Delphi's words hung in the air. She was so casual about it, it was one of the reasons she was so off-putting.

"You know he's innocent?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Oh, now you talk?" Delphi asked with a raised eyebrow, but pushed on before Hermione could ashamedly reply, "Yes he's innocent. Or rather, not guilty of murder is the better way to put it. From what I understand, the old dog really did go to that street to kill the rat. But he got outplayed and framed." Delphi explained as she adjusted the fitting of her gloves. "Your man Dumbledore could have arranged a trial whenever he wanted. He was also in a position to stop Black's unlawful incarceration, and he knew there never was a trial from the start, since ALL Azkaban prisoners are known by the Chief of the Wizangamot. Granted, he may have believed the man was guilty, but then again, nobody ever questioned the Longbottom's torturers were guilty, and they got a very public trial. Doesn't that strike you as strange?" Delphi asked as she looked down pitifully at Potter.

"What are you implying?" Harry asked despite himself.

"You know what I'm implying. You're not an idiot, or if you are, you could probably ask Miss Lovegood or Miss Granger. They're smarter than you'll ever be, they'll work it out. But that's not the problem of the moment. Why are you trying to contact you godfather? Don't make me ask again young man. You won't like who I'll choose to threaten next," Delphi's casual tone devolved into outright malice with her last words before she tilted her head to the side in a very bird-like motion, waiting for her answer.

"He's being tortured by Voldemort," Harry growled as if each word caused him pain. "At the Ministry of Magic.

Delphi nodded. "Did you verify that Sirius is there?"

"He's not at," Potter's voice cut out as his tongue nearly choked him.

"Ah, Fidelus charm, I understand." Delphi grimaced. "So, what are you going to do now?"

"Save him," Ginny Weasley spoke up for the first time.

"Hmm." Delphi tilted her head in an exaggerated 'thinking' motion. "That sounds like a very Gryffindor thing to do. I'll let you all go, on one condition," Delphi stuck up one long finger shrouded by her black gloves.

"Do we have a choice?" Neville asked.

Delphi gave him an indulgent grin, "No, you really don't."

"Well, what is it?" Harry spoke with surprising charisma from his position of vulnerability still tied to the chair.

"I'm coming with you all. And I'm going to bring Pansy and Draco as silent and unseen witnesses. Just for fun," Delphi let out a genuine laugh at their mixed looks of horror.