Treaty - 8

The Aurors glanced uneasily back and forth at one another. Some instantly lowered their wands, while others refused to do so, staring at their commanders expectantly. Umbridge must have placed her own people in charge in the Magical Law Enforcement office, for they glared at the troops until their wands were lowered.

Harry watched in mute horror as a half-dozen robed Death Eaters entered the premises. They walked toward the podium in a semi-circle, Severus Snape in the center, his black robes billowing behind him. They were about halfway across the room, Umbridge watching them with a very self-satisfied smirk, when suddenly the doors opened again and row after row of additional Death Eaters entered the building, fanning out along the perimeter of the room.

Harry could see the faces of the Aurors growing alarmed as they rapidly became outnumbered. Voldemort had certainly been recruiting. Dolores Umbridge stared at them uncomprehendingly for a moment before alarm spread across her face, rapidly giving way to panic.

"Mr. Snape," she said sweetly, her hand fluttering nervously to brush back her hair. "There are more of you here than I'd expected."

Snape nodded curtly. "You'll find that the bargain has been slightly altered," he said snidely, his lips curling.

"Altered how?" Umbridge asked, her hand clutching her throat. Those few Ministry officials who'd stood on the stage with her had all taken steps back, their eyes wide and panicked as they scanned the crowd.

Harry noticed that even Dudley had caught on to the fact there was a bigger bully in the play-park. He'd stepped down from the stage and stood with his parents, watching the proceedings warily. Uncle Vernon appeared put-out that Dudley's moment to shine had been interrupted, but Aunt Petunia seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. He could see the taut veins in her neck straining against her skin as she clutched both Uncle Vernon's and Dudley's arms.

Snape's eyebrows rose as he tilted his head slightly, staring wordlessly at the spluttering Interim Minister.

"A treaty can't simply be altered after it's been signed by both parties. That just isn't how it's done," Umbridge said, as if speaking to a very small child.

"Perhaps you think you're being treated unfairly?" Snape asked, letting his words hang in the air.

Umbridge's eyes widened. "No," she said in a breathy voice, taking two steps backward. "Of course not."

"Perhaps," Snape said silkily, "you'd like to speak with the Dark Lord himself?"

The temperature dropped ten degrees as Voldemort swooped into the room, his long robes trailing the ground behind him, giving the impression of a tail. He surveyed the crowd through narrow, snakelike eyes, causing stunned spectators to flinch and pull away, clearing a path for him directly to the podium. Behind him, Harry recognized Fenrir Greyback, his hair as matted as ever, leering at the crowd. A large group of Fenrir's pack followed them into the room, their clothes dirty and worn and covered in bloodstains. All of them had a deranged, slightly manic look in their eyes.

The entrance of the werewolves caused a stir of unease amongst the crowd, and some of them began to flee. Harry searched for Remus but couldn't distinguish him in the massive crowd. He noticed Tonks straining to see above the people, as well. She used her Metamorphmagus skills to grow taller, her eyes bright as she scanned the room.

Umbridge's whimper of fright sounded clearly in the stillness of the hall before a full panic erupted. Witches and wizards began pushing toward the exits, screaming in fright and trampling one another in their haste to escape.