Obliviate my Destiny {Book 5}

13. Kings and queens of promise

*Warning: use of homophobic/biphobic language near the end of the chapter*

"Ah, Mafalda!" said Umbridge, looking at Hermione. "Travers sent you, did he?"

 "Y-yes," squeaked Hermione. Holding Elena's briefcase so tightly my nails dug into my palms I tried to resist the urge to attack Umbridge on the spot.

 "That's that problem solved. Minister, if Mafalda can be spared for record-keeping we shall be able to start straightaway." She consulted her clipboard. "Ten people today and one of them the wife of a Ministry employee! Tut, tut... even here, in the heart of the Ministry!" She stepped into the lift besides Hermione.

Glancing at Harry, I saw his hand was twitching with anger and antipcation at the sight of the woman.

 "We'll go straight down, Mafalda, you'll find everything you need in the courtroom. Good morning, Albert, Elena aren't you both getting out?"

 "Yes, of course," said Harry.

"And Elena, congratulations on your son's employment, he really fitted the bill, I heard." Umbridge said in a sickly sweet voice.

"Incredibly proud," I said with a forced smile.  Yeah, he really fitted the bill if Snape wanted him to torture and kill more children.

Harry nudged my arm and the two of us left the lift; I tried giving an encouraging smile to Hermione as the doors shut behind us, the new Minister following us out.

"What brings you here, Runcorn?" asked the new Minister of Magic. His hair was long and greasy, his eyes glazed over with the effects of the imperius curse. "And you too, Ms Wilde."

"We have urgent business with an employee on the first floor," I said briskly. "Arthur Weasley."

"Ah," said Plum Thicknesse. "Has he been caught having contact with an Undesirable?"

 "No," said Harry, his voice hoarse. "No, nothing like that."

 "Ah, well. It's only a matter of time," said Thicknesse. "If you ask me, the blood traitors are as bad as the Mudbloods. Good day, Runcorn, Ms Wilde."

 "Good day, Minister." We both said together.

Once he was out of sight, Harry tugged the cloak from under his robes, pulling it over us in case we were spotted. We had to stoop low considering Runcorn was incredibly tall, which made our job a lot slower.

We hurried past door after door, each with small plaques with names on. The corridor seemed endless, Umbridge's office nowhere in sight.

"We should have planned more," I hissed to Harry. "We haven't even thought about what to do if separated."

"Well we're here now, we can't back out now." Harry hissed back, linking arms with me to try and calm me down.

"It's unlikely she keeps her jewellery in her office, but we have to check." I muttered to Harry, who nodded eagerly and we hurried our pace.

We found ourselves in an open space, lots of wizards and witches sat at school desks, waving their wands in synchronisation to make pink pamphlets as they flew into large boxes.

Cautiously, Harry pulled me over to one desk, and when the young witch with the dreadlocks wasn't looking, he grabbed one from her finished pile.

We hurried off again, glancing at the pamphlet under the cloak. In stupid gold writing, it read:

Mudbloods and the Dangers They Pose to a Peaceful Pure-Blood Society

Just from the stupid green weed that was strangling a pouting red rose, I could tell who the author was.