A moment later, there was movement again. Essex gradually sensed that something was wrong. Feeling his way back into the darkness, he huddled in the corner.
He stared toward where the sounds had come from, excited yet terrified.
Before long, the solid darkness gave way. With a creaking sound, a sliver of light shone in.
Having already adapted to the darkness, Essex was reduced to tears by that not-even-bright light. He waved his hands, wanting to block it out yet unable to bear doing so.
Tears streaming down his face, he struggled futilely in the air like a madman.
Outside the door, a deep voice asked in surprise, "Dolores, I only asked you to deliver his meals. How did you drive him mad?"
Another voice, gentle and cloying, replied in aggrieved tones, "Heavens, how could I dare? The esteemed Mr. Weasley forbade me from speaking to him. I followed his orders faithfully—I didn't exchange even a single syllable with him!"
There were surely people in the world with truly unbreakable wills.
Kingsley had heard of such people himself—for instance, the Longbottoms. Back then, under the Death Eaters' torture with the Cruciatus Curse, they had not revealed the slightest information about the Order of the Phoenix even after their minds broke.
But he also knew that such people were exceedingly rare.
Dolores Umbridge was clearly not one of them!
Walking down the hotel's spacious, brightly lit corridor, Kingsley glanced back slightly. The plump Dolores Umbridge followed cautiously behind him.
The Ministry of Magic representative who had once been so arrogant no longer bore any trace of the haughty air she had possessed more than ten days ago. There was no pink, saccharine dress, nor any enormous flowered headpiece—only a plain robe, with her hair neatly tied behind her head.
When Kingsley