Her most shameful secret had been revealed in public by a child who looked only twelve, leaving her frozen in her chair.
To her, her mother Ellen and her Squib brother had always been sources of shame. Ever since her father had parted ways with them, she had never seen either of them again.
She had never told anyone about these things. Publicly, she had always claimed to be related to the Selwyn family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and that her father was a distinguished member of the Wizengamot.
Through her careful maintenance, this story had gradually gained acceptance among most people at the Ministry of Magic. It was a false persona she had spent over a decade building.
But now, the secret she least wanted anyone to know had been revealed in such a casual tone by a Muggle-born child she looked down on.
Umbridge stared at the boy before her, her mind racing.
She had long since replaced her records. How could anyone besides herself still know that she had a Muggle mother and a Squib brother?
She soon recalled what Gerald had just said: "I know far more about you than you imagine."
Those words contained far too much information.
Was this really a child?
Who exactly was he?
You can call me the Lord of Thunder Strike!
"All right, Madam Umbridge. I actually have no interest in your family affairs, but I expect you to show my friends sufficient respect. Otherwise, there's no need for us to continue this discussion."
Gerald's tone was calm as he spoke, as though he were stating something of no consequence.
Umbridge's smile stiffened.
She had not expected this child to reveal her secret so casually, much less seize control of the negotiations the moment he spoke.
Before coming today,