Ember. It means fire. Ember was never safe. Even before she was born she was coverted. Hunted. She's the last of her kind. Once there were many. Once there were four. Four families. One for each element. Air. Water. Earth. Fire. Every other family e...
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"Ah, Mafalda!" said Umbridge, looking at Hermione. "Travers sent you, did he?"
"Y-yes," squeaked Hermione.
"Good, you'll do perfectly well." Umbridge spoke to the wizard in black and gold. "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 beside Hermione, as did the two wizards who had been listening to Umbridge's conversation with the Minister. "We'll go straight down, Mafalda, you'll find everything you need in the courtroom. Good morning, Albert, aren't you getting out?"
"Yes, of course," said Harry in Runcorn's deep voice.
Harry stepped out of the lift. The golden grilles clanged shut behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, Harry saw Hermione's anxious face sinking back out of sight, a tall wizard on either side of her, Umbridge's velvet hair-bow level with her shoulder.
Ember stood as close to Hermione as possible, wishing she could grab her hand.
Nymeria started to growl.
'Nymeria!' Ember linked and closed her hand round Nymeria's snout.
"Was that your stomach, Mafalda?" Umbridge said, raising a eyebrow.
"Yes. I - I ‐ uh - I - skipped breakfast." Hermione stammered.
"Yes. Who needs the extra crabs. I noticed you looked like you gained a little weight. Not as young as you used to be Mafalda. Harder to keep the wait off. Good for you." Umbridge said with her false sweet smile.
'What the - HAS SHE SEEN HERSELF? SHE CAN'T TALK ABOUT ANYONE'S WEIGHT!' Ember linked.
'Let me eat her. Please!' Nymeria linked.
'You won't want her contaminating your insides. You'll get warts.' Ember linked.
Nymeria shook her head in disgust.
"What brings you up here, Runcorn?" asked the new Minister of Magic. His long black hair and beard were streaked with silver, and a great overhanging forehead shadowed his glinting eyes, putting Harry in mind of a crab looking out from beneath a rock.
"Needed a quick word with," Harry hesitated for a fraction of a second, "Arthur Weasley. Someone said he was up on level one."
"Ah," said Pius Thicknesse. "Has he been caught having contact with an Undesirable?"
"No," said Harry, his throat dry. "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. Keep an eye on Black as well. Good day, Runcorn."
