In the Auror Office, several Aurors walked toward their break room with coffees in hand and their heads down.
They passed Umbridge without so much as a glance, treating her as if she weren't there.
Umbridge shot them a vicious glare, seething. Damn them. Didn't they have the slightest respect for me?
Still thinking of ways to teach the bastards a lesson, she pushed open the door to the Director's Office.
Scrimgeour sat behind a desk piled high with parchment and reports.
His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked like an old lion roused to anger.
"Director Scrimgeour," Umbridge said in a sickeningly sweet voice, "I think there are some formatting problems with this report on 'Auror Family Background Investigations.'
"Look, you haven't used the Ministry of Magic's standard size-three font here. And why haven't you put the relatives connected to pure-blood families on the first page? It would be much easier for Cornelius to read."
Scrimgeour took a deep breath. He had to hold back. He couldn't go after that pink toad yet.
He couldn't be bothered to argue with her. "Listen, if you want fancy-looking paperwork, I suggest you go to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
"They have plenty of staff who excel at writing drivel. Aurors are busy every day. We don't have time for that."
"Oh, Director Scrimgeour, what sort of attitude is that?" Umbridge cried. "I'm trying to help you!
"The Minister cares deeply about the Auror Office's progress. I just want to make the report easier for him to read. Are you so determined to have your own way that you don't want what's best for Minister Fudge?"
Scrimgeour rubbed his head. He wanted nothing more than to blast her out of the room with a Stunning Spell.
But he couldn't—not yet. He