The old man watched has the incompetent Muggle Studies professor opened the letter and read it. There was a grotesque glimmer in his eyes, suggesting that he was enjoying this moment far more than he should have. He had to admit it to himself, he was enjoying this. It was a great feeling, getting rid of a weakling that had no appreciation for the work they were doing here at the school, to make it a safer environment and overall a fine establishment for learning. People like Kaysha Stewart, in his opinion, were poison to that effort. Luckily enough, he knew how to promptly weed them out and replace them with something of value.
The words that came out of the woman's mouth made him want to grunt and roll his eyes. Instead, a small smile played on his lips. More out of mockery than anything.
Of course, he had a response to everything she said. But no words came out. There was no point in wasting his time explaining the school's vision to someone who was no longer employed there. If she couldn't wrap her mind around it before when she was part of the staff, then it wouldn't click in her mind now.
But, if she had any common sense, she would look at the successes of Durmstrang. She would know that he was taking action against the rebels like her, rather than let them fester in the school, poisoning the minds of students, like that Umbridge woman did. The biggest weed was no longer going to be an issue for him anymore. Structure was key to running this school, and everything would fall into place in due time.
As the woman marched away, Scrimgeour turned toward Ainsworth. "I recommend following her to your office," he said to the man, nodding toward the direction Stewart wandered off to. "Make sure she doesn't linger for too long. I'll see you down in the Great Hall at five for supper."
With that said, he (not caring about the crumpled letter on the floor) began his walk down the corridor the way they came and was soon out of sight.
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