Moaning Myrtle couldn’t moan so well under water, and the merpeople would ignore her anyway, so she didn’t bother. They were used to her. Her presence anywhere in their city bothered them not a wit. She used to talk to them for Dumbledore, but even though he was gone she still kept watching. There might come a day when what she saw would be useful again, and anyway, watching them passed the time.
The merpeople acted much like any similarly sized group of humans. There were fights, and births, and deaths, enough action to keep Moaning Myrtle busy even when the humans, especially the boys, had so totally forgotten her. The summer was lonely for Myrtle, with everyone gone, but visiting the merpeople was nice enough.
What Moaning Myrtle was observing today was more serious than was her usual fare. Today there was a human in the heart of the mercity, the palace. From Myrtle’s point of view, the audience did not seem to be going well.
Despite the good will generated by Dumbledore, humans and merpeople did not get along. Especially since the merpeople, right or wrong, blamed Dumbledore’s death on the Ministry not listening and preparing for trouble. The small lingering warm fuzzy feeling lingering from Dumbledore was quickly being wiped away by the Ministry spokesperson.
“You see,” a voice high-pitched even in water said, “it’s simply common sense. We can’t allow your sort to remain so near the school.”
Myrtle reflected that Dolores Umbridge hadn’t learned a thing. Myrtle could still remember the girl Dolores had been, dressed like a fat little doll in layers of pink lace. Even in the school uniform, she wore a frilly pink bow larger than her head that she was always fiddling with. Some Slytherins thought that was a sign of weakness. They soon found themselves proved wrong. Dolores picked fights with everyone, proving herself as one of the most able (but stupid) insulters the House had ever seen. Anyone not wizarding by birth, or who had a suspicion of nonhuman ancestry was the target of her jokes. She didn’t have much discretion in who she picked on. Slytherin or not, better than her or not, she wouldn’t hesitate to pick them to pieces at the earliest opportunity. She was soon the most hated person in the school. Wherever she went, people would play shoot spells at her.
She still didn’t think about the consequences of her actions.
“And where,” the mer-Queen said, eyes flashing dangerously, “do you propose moving us? The Ministry’s limits on population means that we can’t move in with any other gathering of merfolk. And the places that don’t have merfolk don’t have us because they can’t support us, no food or too cold.”
Umbridge ignored the warning signs.
“Choose a place. The Ministry is generous- we will move your city for you.” Umbridge said haughtily.
“You know,” the mer-Queen said pensively, “I don’t think we will. We are rather fond of our lake. I think you’ll find that you’ll have a harder job than you might think if you try to remove us. We will fight to the la-”
Umbridge interrupted, “Humph, humph!” The Queen stopped, shocked at Umbridge’s disrespect. “Now then. We can’t be having that. Agitating the poor little merpeople,” and they were agitated, no doubt there. The thrashing tails of the watching crowd, which had grown significantly in the last few minutes, was signal enough of that. “who don’t know any better. You should ashamed of yourself. I think it would be entirely reasonable, under the circumstances, to remove you now. Your son is perfectly capable of deciding where the city will move to. No need to leave a potential rebel in place, nor shall we. You can come with me now, and I’ll be back in a month with a team to transport the rest of the city to your final destination.”
The Queen’s son was only twelve. Though merpeople aged faster than humans, that was still far too young to take command of even a city as small as that under the lake.
Even assuming the Queen would be forced to leave. It wasn’t going to happen.
At Umbridge’s words, hundreds of merpeople converged on her. Before she even had a moment to consider her folly, she was underneath the mass, her wand snapped in the fall.
The mer-Queen let off a whistle that carried well underwater, and the court pulled up. Myrtle had never imagined a being with green skin could flush purple as the Queen had. Her tail was as rigid as a board, as she restrained herself.
“You…will…leave. Now. Certainly without me. And if you come back, you will find we will not be so merciful. You are protected by agreements we respect, agreements not to attack messengers, even though I suspect you are speaking as much for yourself as any when you insult our loyalty to each other, this city, and the school that was built long after we arrived.”
Myrtle glided through the water closer to Umbridge. “You know,” Myrtle said, an evil smile creasing her face, “that Bubble Head charm is only going to last about twenty more minutes.” Umbridge didn’t like ghosts anymore than she liked anything else outside of her norm. She had made fun of Myrtle for years.
Umbridge looked at her broken wand in horror. If her Bubble Head charm failed while she was still underwater, she would die. She shot off towards the surface faster than Myrtle would have thought possible.
Myrtle watched her leave, and knew that this wasn’t the end of it. Umbridge would be back, better prepared and with back-up. And this time, brute force wouldn’t stop her.
A/N: Please don't forget to review! As of right now, I don't have a single review on my last chapter. If you don't write, I'm going to think you don't like it! Even if you don't, please still write, so I'll be able to change it. Thank you!
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