And then, abruptly and shockingly amid the frozen silence, one of the dungeon doors on the left of the corridor was flung open and screams echoed out of it.
“No, no, I’m a half-blood, I’m a half-blood, I tell you! My father was a wizard, he was, look him up, Arkie Alderton, he’s a well-known broomstick designer, look him up, I tell you— get your
hands off me, get your hands off— ”
“This is your final warning,” said Umbridge’s soft voice, magically magnified so that it sounded clearly over the man’s desperate screams. “If you struggle, you will be subjected to the Dementor’s Kiss.”
The man’s screams subsided, but dry sobs echoed through the corridor.
“Take him away,” said Umbridge.
Two dementors appeared in the doorway of the courtroom, their rotting, scabbed hands clutching the upper arms of a wizard who appeared to be fainting. They glided away down the corridor with
him, and the darkness they trailed behind them swallowed him from sight.

“You are Mary Elizabeth Cattermole?” asked Umbridge.
Mrs. Cattermole gave a single, shaky nod.
“Married to Reginald Cattermole of the Magical Maintenance Department?”
Mrs. Cattermole burst into tears.
“I don’t know where he is, he was supposed to meet me here!”
Umbridge ignored her.
“Mother to Maisie, Ellie, and Alfred Cattermole?”
Mrs. Cattermole sobbed harder than ever.
“They’re frightened, they think I might not come home— ”
“Spare us,” spat Yaxley. “The brats of Mudbloods do not stir our sympathies.”