Courage - Harry Potter

-105-

Book: Courage
Chapter 105
Word Count: 5575

"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 recordkeeping 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, and you'll find everything you need in the courtroom. Good morning, Albert, Eva, aren't you getting out?"

"Are we?" Layla subtly whispered to Harry.

"Yes, of course," said Harry in Runcorn's deep voice.

Harry grabbed Layla's hand and pulled her out of the lift with him, releasing her hand before anyone could notice. The golden grilles clanged shut behind them. Glancing over her shoulder, Layla 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.

"What brings you up here, fellas?" 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.

"Good morning, Minister. We needed a quick word with," Layla hesitated for a fraction of a second, "Arthur Weasley. Someone said he was up on level one."

"Ah," said Pius Thickness. "Has he been caught having contact with an Undesirable?"

"No," said Harry. "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, you two."

"Good day, Minister," Layla put on a fake smile.

Layla and Harry watched Thicknesse march away along the thickly carpeted corridor. The moment the Minister had passed out of sight, Harry tugged the Invisibility Cloak out from under his heavy black cloak, threw it over himself and Layla, and the two of them set off along the corridor. Runcorn was so tall that Harry was forced to stoop to make sure his and Layla's feet were hidden.

Panic pulsed in the pit of Layla's stomach. As she and Harry passed gleaming wooden door after gleaming wooden door, each bearing a small plaque with the owner's name and occupation upon it, the might of the Ministry, its complexity, its impenetrability, seemed to force itself upon her so that the plan she had been carefully concocting with Harry, Ron, and Hermione over the past four weeks seemed laughably childish. They had concentrated all their efforts on getting inside without being detected. They had not given a moment's thought to what they would do if they were forced to separate. Now Hermione was stuck in court proceedings, which would undoubtedly last hours; Ron was struggling to do magic that Harry was sure was beyond him, a woman's liberty possibly depending on the outcome; and she and Harry were wandering around on the top floor.

Umbridge's office must be up here, Layla thought.

It seemed most unlikely that Umbridge would keep her jewelry in her office, but on the other hand it seemed foolish not to search it to make sure. She therefore set off along the corridor with Harry, passing nobody but a frowning wizard who was murmuring instructions to a quill that floated in front of him, scribbling on a trail of parchment.
Now paying attention to the names on the doors, the two teenagers turned a corner. Halfway along the next corridor, they emerged into a wide open space where a dozen witches and wizards sat in rows at small desks not unlike school desks, though much more highly polished and free from graffiti. They were all waving and twiddling their wands in unison, and squares of colored paper were flying in every direction like little pink kites. After a few seconds, Layla realized that there was a rhythm to the proceedings, that the papers all formed the same pattern, and after a few more seconds, she realized that what she was watching was the creation of pamphlets — that the paper squares were pages, which, when assembled, folded, and magicked into place, fell into neat stacks beside each witch or wizard.