Well, I was listening the other day to the song "Dolores" by Frank Sinatra.
Then I thought, "Hey, Dolores is UMBRIDGE's name, isn't it!" And being
the insane person I am, I got inspired. To write this fic. Be afraid. Be
VERY afraid. But review anyway.
"How I love the kisses of Dolores
Not Minerva not Sybil or Doris
Only my Dolores"
The twins snickered. Maybe Muggle tape recorders and other such devices didn't work inside of Hogwarts, but they were damned if they hadn't made some magical ones that worked just fine. It was a good thing, too. How could they afford to miss capturing this? They paused to listen to the faint strains of a love song coming closer, ever closer to them. Their recording devices had already begun to capture the moment; they had been sure to get every word of the song. Suddenly, the man in question turned a corner and was headed straight toward them! Quickly, they rushed behind a suit of armor as their subject passed. Still recording, of course.
"From a balcony above me
She whispers 'Love me' and throws a rose
Ah, but she is twice as lovely
As the rose she throws"
"Oh God!" grunted Fred, barely stifling a snigger. His partner-in-crime would usually have reprimanded him for it, but he was too close to breaking point himself. They'd despised him since the first day they'd stepped off the train into Hogwarts, and now they were catching what was probably his most embarrassing moment on tape! It was all too rich, too just revenge. He walked by and turned another corner before the twins came silently out of their hiding place an followed yet again. They just wanted to get the whole song, after all... Finally, Fred snorted. George grabbed his counterpart and dragged him quickly into the nearest room. Which happened to be the girls' bathroom haunted by resident ghost, Moaning Myrtle. "Ooooh!" she shrieked, "Boooys!"
"Hush!" George insisted, "We're hiding from Filch!"
"Ah," she sighed, "pity." Even Myrtle wouldn't turn the two boys in to Filch. Besides, she secretly enjoyed their company. It was definitely more amusing than anyone else who'd dared to wander in there.
"Listen, Myrtle, d'you mind if we play this?" She agreed on the condition that she could watch too. They cheerfully agreed.
"I would die to be with my Dolores
I was made to serenade Dolores
Chorus after chorus"
"Crikey. Filch fancies Umbridge!" Fred was stymied. He continued to rant in an overly histrionic 'lovestruck' voice. "Our A. Filchie has found LOVE!"
"Y'know, Fred, I reckon we should help our dear comrade Argus here."
"You know George, I was thinking exactly the same thing."
Identical devious grins formed on their faces as they plotted what would surely be the most dangerous --but definitely the most rewarding-- matchmaking scheme of their lives. Umbridge and Filch. Looking at each other, they nodded. They were ready.
Argus Cornwallis Filch had a feeling something was up. And when he got this feeling, and got it this strongly, there were only two people who could possibly be involved. Those damn Weasley twins. "Well, precious," he whispered to the only creature he'd ever found to care about him, feeling her purr as he scratched her under her chin. "They're in for more than they bargained for." Mrs. Norris only smiled her feline smile. They would get it this time, those two. Of course they would. But at least her master still had one precious secret, shared only by herself and the great walls. Again he began to sing.
"Just imagine eyes like moonrise
A voice like music, lips like wine
What a break if I could make Dolores
Mine all mine
Mine all mine."