It was as she sat in judgement of another innocent woman that Harry Potter finally attacked Dolores in the very heart of the Ministry, and stole from her the Horcrux she had unwittingly been wearing.
With the fall of Lord Voldemort, Dolores Umbridge was put on trial for her enthusiastic co-operation with his regime, and convicted of the torture, imprisonment and deaths of several people (some of the innocent Muggle-borns she sentenced to Azkaban did not survive their ordeal).
J.K. Rowling’s thoughts
Once, long ago, I took instruction in a certain skill or subject (I am being vague as vague can be, for reasons that are about to become obvious), and in doing so, came into contact with a teacher or instructor whom I disliked intensely on sight.
The woman in question returned my antipathy with interest. Why we took against each other so instantly, heartily and (on my side, at least) irrationally, I honestly cannot say. What sticks in my mind is her pronounced taste for twee accessories. I particularly recall a tiny little plastic bow slide, pale lemon in colour that she wore in her short curly hair. I used to stare at that little slide, which would have been appropriate to a girl of three, as though it was some kind of repellent physical growth. She was quite a stocky woman, and not in the first flush of youth, and her tendency to wear frills where (I felt) frills had no business to be, and to carry undersized handbags, again as though they had been borrowed from a child’s dressing-up box, jarred, I felt, with a personality that I found the reverse of sweet, innocent and ingenuous.
I am always a little wary when talking about these kinds of sources of inspiration, because it is infuriating to hear yourself misinterpreted in ways that can cause other people a great deal of hurt. This woman was NOT ‘the real Dolores Umbridge’. She did not look like a toad, she was never sadistic or vicious to me or anyone else, and I never heard her express a single view in common with Umbridge (indeed, I never knew her well enough to know much about her views or preferences, which makes my dislike of her even less justifiable). However, it is true to say that I borrowed from her, then grossly exaggerated, a taste for the sickly sweet and girlish in dress, and it was that tiny little pale lemon plastic bow that I was remembering when I perched the fly-like ornament on Dolores Umbridge’s head.
I have noticed more than once in life that a taste for the ineffably twee can go hand-in-hand with a distinctly uncharitable outlook on the world. I once shared an office with a woman who had covered the wall space behind her desk with pictures of fluffy kitties; she was the most bigoted, spiteful champion of the death penalty with whom it has ever been my misfortune to share a kettle. A love of all things saccharine often seems present where there is a lack of real warmth or charity.
So Dolores, who is one of the characters for whom I feel purest dislike, became an amalgam of traits taken from these, and a variety of sources. Her desire to control, to punish and to inflict pain, all in the name of law and order, are, I think, every bit as reprehensible as Lord Voldemort’s unvarnished espousal of evil.
Umbridge’s names were carefully chosen. ‘Dolores’ means sorrow, something she undoubtedly inflicts on all around her. ‘Umbridge’ is a play on ‘umbrage’ from the British expression ‘to take umbrage’, meaning offence. Dolores is offended by any challenge to her limited world-view; I felt her surname conveyed the pettiness and rigidity of her character. It is harder to explain ‘Jane’; it simply felt rather smug and neat between her other two names.
Dolores Umbridge had two offices – one at Hogwarts, the other at the Ministry of Magic – but both were decorated with foul meowing kitten plates. Now, she may never have been appointed Minister for Magic herself, but she did know how to influence anyone who was. Just think how diabolically well she worked with Cornelius Fudge to spread rumours about Harry Potter, deny the return of Voldemort, and depose Dumbledore.
If you want to understand anything about wizarding world politics, you’d better look at exactly who has held the position of Minister. And keep an eye out, as there’s a familiar surname or two amongst them.
MINISTERS FOR MAGIC
BY J.K. ROWLING
The Ministry of Magic was formally established in 1707 with the appointment of the very first man to hold the title ‘Minister for Magic’, Ulick Gamp.* The Minister for Magic is democratically elected, although there have been times of crisis in which the post has simply been offered to an individual without a public vote (Albus Dumbledore was made such an offer, and turned it down repeatedly). There is no fixed limit to a Minister’s term of office, but he or she is obliged to hold regular elections at a maximum interval of seven years. Ministers for Magic tend to last much longer than Muggle ministers. Generally speaking, and despite many a moan and grumble, their community is behind them in a way that is rarely seen in the Muggle world. This is perhaps due to a feeling, on the part of wizards, that unless they are seen to manage themselves competently, the Muggles might try to interfere.
The Muggle Prime Minister has no part in appointing the Minister for Magic, whose election is a matter only for the magical community themselves. All matters relating to the magical community in Britain are managed solely by the Minister for Magic, and he has sole jurisdiction over his Ministry. Emergency visits to the Muggle Prime Minister by the Minister for Magic are announced by a portrait of Ulick Gamp (first Minister for Magic) that hangs in the Muggle Prime Minister’s study in Number 10 Downing Street.
No Muggle Prime Minister has ever set foot in the Ministry of Magic, for reasons most succinctly summed up by ex-Minister Dugald McPhail (term of office 1858 – 1865): ‘their puir wee braines couldnae cope wi’ it.’
MINISTER: Ulick Gamp
TERM OF OFFICE: 1707 – 1718
Previously head of the Wizengamot, Gamp had the onerous job of policing a fractious and frightened community adjusting to the imposition of the International Statute of Secrecy. His greatest legacy was to found the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
Damocles Rowle
1718 – 1726
Rowle was elected on a platform of being ‘tough on Muggles’. Censured by the International Confederation of Wizards, he was eventually forced to step down.
Perseus Parkinson
1726 – 1733
Attempted to pass a bill making it illegal to marry a Muggle. Misread the public mood; the wizarding community, tired of anti-Muggle sentiment and wanting peace, voted him out at the first opportunity.
Eldritch Diggory
1733 – 1747
Popular Minister who first established an Auror recruitment programme. Died in office (dragon pox).
Albert Boot
1747 – 1752
Likeable, but inept. Resigned after a mismanaged goblin rebellion.
Basil Flack
1752 – 1752
Shortest serving Minister. Lasted two months; resigned after the goblins joined forces with werewolves.
Hesphaestus Gore
1752 – 1770
Gore was one of the earliest Aurors. Successfully put down a number of revolts by magical beings, although historians feel his refusal to contemplate rehabilitation programmes for werewolves ultimately led to more attacks. Renovated and reinforced the prison of Azkaban.
Maximilian Crowdy
1770 – 1781
Father-of-nine Crowdy was a charismatic leader who routed out several extremist pure-blood groups planning Muggle attacks. His mysterious death in office has been the subject of numerous books and conspiracy theories.
Porteus Knatchbull
1781 – 1789
Was called in confidentially in 1782 by the Muggle Prime Minister of the day, Lord North, to see whether he could help with King George III’s emerging mental instability. Word leaked out that Lord North believed in wizards, and he was forced to resign after a motion of no confidence.
Unctuous Osbert
1789 – 1798
Widely seen as too much influenced by pure-bloods of wealth and status.
Artemisia Lufkin
1798 – 1811
First female Minister for Magic. Established Department of International Magical Co-operation and lobbied hard and successfully to have a Quidditch World Cup tournament held in Britain during her term.
Grogan Stump
1811 – 1819
Very popular Minister for Magic, a passionate Quidditch fan (Tutshill Tornados), established the Department of Magical Games and Sports and managed to steer through legislation on magical beasts and beings that had long been a source of contention.
Josephina Flint
1819 – 1827
Revealed an unhealthy anti-Muggle bias in office; disliked new Muggle technology such as the telegraph, which she claimed interfered with proper wand function.
Ottaline Gambol
1827 – 1835
A much more forward-looking Minister, Gambol established committees to investigate Muggle brainpower, which seemed, during this period of the British Empire, to be greater than some wizards had credited.
Radolphus Lestrange
1835 – 1841
Reactionary who attempted to close down the Department of Mysteries, which ignored him. Eventually resigned due to ill health, which was widely rumoured to be inability to cope with the strains of office.
Hortensia Milliphutt
1841 – 1849
Introduced more legislation than any other sitting Minister, much of it useful, but some wearisome (hat pointiness and so on), which ultimately resulted in her political downfall.
Evangeline Orpington
1849 – 1855
A good friend of Queen Victoria’s, who never realised she was a witch, let alone Minister for Magic. Orpington is believed to have intervened magically (and illegally) in the Crimean War.
Priscilla Dupont
1855 – 1858
Conceived an irrational loathing of the Muggle Prime Minister Lord Palmerston, to an extent that caused such trouble (coins turning to frogspawn in his coat pockets, etc) that she was forced to step down. Ironically, Palmerston was forced to resign by the Muggles two days later.
Dugald McPhail
1858 – 1865
A safe pair of hands. While the Muggle parliament underwent a period of marked upheaval, the Ministry of Magic knew a period of welcome calm.
Faris ‘Spout-hole’ Spavin
1865 – 1903
Longest-ever serving Minister for Magic, and also the most long-winded, he survived an ‘assassination attempt’ (kicking) from a centaur who resented the punchline of Spavin’s infamous ‘a centaur, a ghost and a dwarf walk into a bar’ joke. Attended Queen Victoria’s funeral in an admiral’s hat and spats, at which point the Wizengamot suggested gently that it was time he move aside (Spavin was 147 when he left office).
Venusia Crickerly
1903 – 1912
Second ex-Auror to take office and considered both competent and likeable, Crickerly died in a freak gardening accident (mandrake related).
Archer Evermonde
1912 – 1923
In post during the Muggle First World War, Evermonde passed emergency legislation forbidding witches and wizards to get involved, lest they risk mass infractions of the International Statute of Secrecy. Thousands defied him, aiding Muggles where they could.
Lorcan McLaird
1923 – 1925
A gifted wizard, but an unlikely politician, McLaird was an exceptionally taciturn man who preferred to communicate in monosyllables and expressive puffs of smoke that he produced through the end of his wand. Forced from office out of sheer irritation at his eccentricities.
Hector Fawley
1925 – 1939
Undoubtedly voted in because of his marked difference to McLaird, the ebullient and flamboyant Fawley did not take sufficiently seriously the threat presented to the world wizarding community by Gellert Grindelwald. He paid with his job.
Leonard Spencer-Moon
1939 – 1948
A sound Minister who rose through the ranks from being tea-boy in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Oversaw a great period of international wizarding and Muggle conflict. Enjoyed a good working relationship with Winston Churchill.
Wilhelmina Tuft
1948 – 1959
Cheery witch who presided over a period of welcome peace and prosperity. Died in office after discovering, too late, her allergy to Alihotsy-flavoured fudge.
Ignatius Tuft
1959 – 1962
Son of the above. A hard-liner who capitalised on his mother’s popularity to gain election. Promised to institute a controversial and dangerous Dementor breeding program and was forced from office.
Nobby Leach
1962 – 1968
First Muggle-born Minister for Magic, his appointment caused consternation among the old (pure-blood) guard, many of whom resigned government posts in protest. Has always denied having anything to do with England’s 1966 World Cup Win. Left office after contracting a mysterious illness (conspiracy theories abound).
Eugenia Jenkins
1968 – 1975
Jenkins dealt competently with pure-blood riots during Squib Rights marches in the late sixties, but was soon confronted with the first rise of Lord Voldemort. Jenkins was soon ousted from office as inadequate to the challenge.
Harold Minchum
1975 – 1980
Seen as a hard-liner, he placed even more Dementors around Azkaban, but was unable to contain what looked like Voldemort’s unstoppable rise to power.
Millicent Bagnold
1980 – 1990
A highly able Minister. Had to answer to the International Confederation of Wizards for the number of breaches of the International Statute of Secrecy on the day and night following Harry Potter’s survival of Lord Voldemort’s attack. Acquitted herself magnificently with the now infamous words: ‘I assert our inalienable right to party’, which drew cheers from all present.
Cornelius Fudge
1990 – 1996
A career politician overly fond of the old guard. Persistent denial of the continuing threat of Lord Voldemort ultimately cost him his job.
Rufus Scrimgeour
1996 – 1997
The third ex-Auror to gain office, Scrimgeour died in office at the hands of Lord Voldemort.
Pius Thicknesse
1997 – 1998
Omitted from most official records, as he was under the Imperius Curse for his entire term of office, and unconscious of anything that he was doing.
Kingsley Shacklebolt
1998 – present
Oversaw the capture of Death Eaters and Voldemort supporters following the death of Lord Voldemort. Initially named as ‘caretaker Minister’, Shacklebolt was subsequently elected to the office.
* Prior to 1707, the Wizards’ Council was the longest serving (though not the only) body to govern the magical community in Britain. After the imposition of the International Statute of Secrecy in 1692, however, the wizarding community needed a more highly structured, organised and more complex governing structure than they had hitherto used, to support, regulate and communicate with a community in hiding. Only witches and wizards who enjoyed the title of ‘Minister for Magic’ are included in this entry.
How great would it have been to share a foaming pint of Butterbeer with Faris ‘Spout-hole’ Spavin? But there are a few in that list we’d avoid altogether – Damocles Rowle, for instance, the Minister who first began sending criminals to Azkaban.
Even before it became a notorious prison, the island fortress was not exactly somewhere you’d go on a family holiday. You might want to get a very happy memory and a fervent ‘Expecto Patronum!’ at the ready…
AZKABAN
BY J.K. ROWLING
Azkaban has existed since the fifteenth century and was not originally a prison at all. The island in the North Sea upon which the first fortress was built never appeared on any map, Muggle or wizarding, and is believed to have been cr
eated, or enlarged, by magical means.
The fortress upon it was originally home to a little-known sorcerer who called himself Ekrizdis. Evidently extremely powerful, but of unknown nationality, Ekrizdis, who is believed to have been insane, was a practitioner of the worst kinds of Dark Arts. Alone in the middle of the ocean, he lured, tortured and killed Muggle sailors, apparently for pleasure, and only when he died, and the concealment charms he had cast faded away, did the Ministry of Magic realise that either island or building existed. Those who entered to investigate refused afterwards to talk of what they had found inside, but the least frightening part of it was that the place was infested with Dementors.
Many in authority thought Azkaban an evil place that was best destroyed. Others were afraid of what might happen to the Dementors infesting the building if they deprived them of their home. The creatures were already strong and impossible to kill; many feared a horrible revenge if they took away a habitat where they appeared to thrive. The very walls of the building seemed steeped in misery and pain, and the Dementors were determined to cling to it. Experts who had studied buildings built with and around Dark magic contended that Azkaban might wreak its own revenge upon anybody attempting to destroy it. The fortress was therefore left abandoned for many years, a home to continually breeding Dementors.
The Hogwarts Collection Page 5