Chapter 327: Chapter 327: "The Headmistress Who Wasn’t"
By the second week of December, an uneasy calm had settled over Hogwarts and Harry's shadow war. The Dark Alliance's recruitment drives had slowed, hinting that they were preparing for something bigger. With fewer attacks to intercept, Harry found himself with more time to focus on school life, though he knew the peace wouldn't last.
The day everything changed at Hogwarts began like any other. Students packed the Great Hall, chatting about end-of-term exams and their holiday plans. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout sat at the staff table, speaking in low, tense voices. Snape, as perpetually sour as ever, read a potions journal, and the empty chair in the center of the table served as a stark reminder of Dumbledore's extended absence.
Harry was halfway through his porridge when the sharp sound of heels clicking against the stone floor silenced the Hall. All heads turned toward the entrance as Dolores Umbridge appeared, flanked by three Aurors. Her pink cardigan was as garish as ever, and the smug grin on her face immediately set Harry on edge.
"Hem hem," she cleared her throat, her voice ringing out unnecessarily loud in the now silent Hall. The atmosphere shifted, students and staff alike bracing for trouble. "I have an important announcement from the Ministry of Magic."
She pulled out a fancy scroll with a flourish, letting the suspense hang before speaking. "It is my duty to inform you all that, due to Headmaster Dumbledore's prolonged absence and neglect of his responsibilities, he is—effective immediately—removed from his position. As per Ministry orders, I will be assuming the role of Acting Headmistress of Hogwarts."
The Hall fell into stunned silence.
"Professor," McGonagall began, her tone sharp but controlled, "this is highly irregular—"
"Irregular or not," Umbridge interrupted with a syrupy yet firm tone, "it is the Ministry's decision. Therefore, it is final. I will be moving into the Headmaster's office at once. Please have all of Dumbledore's personal belongings sent to me without delay."
She scanned the staff table, her eyes daring anyone to challenge her authority. When no one spoke, she turned sharply to the Aurors. "Follow me. We'll secure the Headmaster's office immediately."
Her heels clicked decisively as she strode out of the Hall, the Aurors close behind her. The spectacle was impossible to ignore, and dozens of students rose from their seats, whispering in shock and disbelief as they followed.
Harry's expression hardened as he stood, blending into the crowd. Where is Dumbledore? The unanswered question gnawed at him. If Umbridge was allowed to take control of Hogwarts, it would spell disaster for everyone. Harry couldn't let her turn the school into a prison while he was out fighting the real war. If the Ministry thought they could hand Hogwarts to her, they were sorely mistaken.
This would have to be her last night here.
---
The crowd surged toward the spiral staircase leading to the Headmaster's office. At the foot of the stairs, the stone gargoyle stood unmoving as Umbridge barked out a string of passwords, her face growing redder with each failed attempt.
"Open this instant!" she demanded, pointing her wand at the statue. The gargoyle remained stubbornly still.
"Perhaps," McGonagall interjected coolly as she arrived, "the castle recognizes its rightful Headmaster."
Umbridge whirled around to glare at her, her expression souring further. "Force it open," she barked at the Aurors.
The Aurors exchanged uncertain glances. "Ma'am," one ventured hesitantly, "the wards on this office might be... complex."
"I said break it down!" Umbridge snapped, her shrill voice cutting through the tension. The hesitation in the air was palpable, but the Aurors reluctantly raised their wands, preparing a powerful Reductor Curse.
Before they could cast, the gargoyle suddenly shifted to the side on its own.
All eyes turned as Albus Dumbledore descended the spiral staircase. He was dressed in elegant midnight blue robes, his presence as commanding as ever. Harry, however, noticed the slight strain around his eyes, the carefully measured movements that suggested hidden weakness.
---
The past few weeks had been incredibly taxing for the old wizard, though few knew the full extent of it. After Snape managed to contain the curse from the ring, Dumbledore awoke to two troubling revelations.
The first was the disappearance of the Resurrection Stone—the very object that had lured him into his reckless mistake. The stone was gone without a trace. Snape claimed to know nothing of its whereabouts, and even Dumbledore's most advanced detection spells failed to locate it. The loss stung deeply, not only because of the stone's immense power but because it symbolized the price of his arrogance. Now, he couldn't even use the artifact that had cost him so much.
His suspicions naturally turned to the wizard who had robbed the Elder Wand from him, but again, he found no trail to follow. It was as if both Hallows had simply vanished into thin air. This unknown player with access to two Deathly Hallows troubled him deeply, but before he could unravel this mystery, a second shock blindsided him.
His agents, tasked with monitoring Gellert Grindelwald in Nurmengard, brought alarming news: Grindelwald had been freed. The implications were immense. Not only did this mean Voldemort had likely gained a dangerous ally, but he also now had access to Grindelwald's deep knowledge of European dark magic and his vast, though dormant, network of supporters. The balance of power had shifted dramatically, and all of it happened while Dumbledore lay unconscious from his own folly.
Moreover, there was a greater personal risk. If word spread that Dumbledore had left Grindelwald alive, he would face a wave of outrage from powerful witches and wizards across Europe. Many had lost loved ones to Grindelwald's terror, and their wrath would be swift and unforgiving.
These grim discoveries, combined with the curse slowly draining his life force, forced Dumbledore to reorganize his priorities. Snape's potions might extend his life by a year—no more. The intricate plans he had crafted over decades needed to be accelerated. Charles had to be prepared, the Horcruxes located and destroyed, and the prophecy fulfilled—all before the curse claimed him.
In the weeks since his recovery, Dumbledore had dedicated himself to organizing his vast collection of memories and intelligence about Voldemort. Every detail, from Tom Riddle's childhood to the creation of the Horcruxes, had to be preserved and shared with Charles. The boy needed to understand the weight of the prophecy and the full scope of his task: to vanquish Voldemort.
At least the ring's destruction proved two Horcruxes were gone, though Dumbledore remained puzzled by the ring's damaged state when he'd found it.
His research into Voldemort's possible Horcrux locations had continued as well, though the cursed arm made certain magical investigations more difficult. He'd also been carefully monitoring the growing shadow war between Voldemort's forces and the mysterious masked vigilantes. While he disapproved of their methods,he couldn't deny the value of their efforts. Their interference had bought him precious time.
---
Back in the present, Umbridge's face turned pale but quickly twisted into a forced smile. She thrust the official parchment forward, her hand trembling slightly. "Dumbledore, I was informed you had abandoned your post. This document clearly states—"
"I fear there has been a misunderstanding, Dolores," Dumbledore interrupted pleasantly, his calm voice cutting through her words. "I have been quite present, simply occupied with matters of great importance. Perhaps we should discuss this directly with Cornelius?"
There was something in his tone—gentle yet unyielding—that made Umbridge falter.
She hesitated, her mouth opening and closing as if searching for a retort. Finally, she clicked her heels together and straightened. "Very well," she said, her tone brittle. "I shall verify this with the Minister personally. My Aurors and I will leave—for now." She shot McGonagall a venomous glare before storming off, her heels clicking sharply against the stone floor. The Aurors trailed behind her, looking more than a little relieved.
The students, who had crowded the corridor, parted like water to let them pass, their hushed whispers filling the air as soon as she was out of earshot.
Dumbledore turned to McGonagall, his eyes twinkling with quiet amusement. "Minerva, would you be so kind as to see that the students return to their meals? I believe there is still some porridge left to be enjoyed."
McGonagall inclined her head, her stern expression softening into the faintest hint of a smile. "Of course, Headmaster."
Dumbledore ascended the spiral staircase again with the same unhurried grace as when he had appeared. The gargoyle shifted back into place with a heavy grinding noise, sealing the staircase. In his wake, the castle buzzed with speculation, students and staff alike murmuring about what had just transpired.
---
What happened next was a mystery to most students, but within days, Umbridge was gone—replaced by a young Auror trainee as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The student body celebrated, relieved to be free of her oppressive rule, though Harry couldn't help analyzing Dumbledore's swift action with a growing sense of suspicion.
The old wizard's tactics were changing. Gone were the days of subtlety and political maneuvering. With the curse shortening his time, Dumbledore was eliminating obstacles with decisive action. Harry's theory was confirmed when he noticed Charles being summoned to the Headmaster's office for regular evening meetings.
Later that week, in the study at Black Castle, Sirius shared news from the latest Order meeting. He had heard it through a trusted Order friend. "Dumbledore's finally starting to talk," Sirius reported. "He told everyone about Grindelwald's escape, the Dark Alliance, and the shadow war spreading across Europe. Though, as expected, he's not happy about the 'vigilantes' or their 'excessive force.'"
Harry kept his face carefully neutral, but Sirius wasn't done. He exchanged a glance with Amelia and Emma, who stepped closer with concern. By the window, Fleur stood silently, her gaze fixed on the snowy grounds outside. She already knew what was coming.
Sirius turned back to Harry, speaking slowly. "There's something else. We learned that before all this kicked off, the Dark Alliance faced a powerful wizard—a Knight who almost wiped out their vampire forces. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
The unspoken accusation hung in the air. Harry met his godfather's eyes, seeing the mix of hurt and worry there. There was no point denying it.
"Yes," Harry admitted quietly. "That was me. Remember when I went after Macnair for information and ended up killing a few vampires? Well, the vampires traced their attacker back to me. They came to my home, and I didn't have a choice. I had to defend myself."
"Bloody hell, Harry!" Sirius exploded, standing so abruptly that his chair scraped against the floor. "You fought their entire force of vampires and werewolves alone and didn't think to tell me? I'm supposed to protect you, not the other way around!"
"I'm sorry," Harry said earnestly. "I didn't want to worry you. And when it was over, it just seemed easier not to mention it."
"Easier?" Emma snapped, her voice sharp with disbelief. "Harry, you could've been killed! What if you'd been hurt—"
"I had it under control," Harry said firmly. "Really. And, ironically, it helped me make huge strides in my knight training."
"That's not the point," Amelia interjected, her tone measured but firm. "We're family. We're supposed to face things like this together."
Sirius ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "Just... no more secrets like this, alright? I know how powerful you are, pup, but you don't have to carry everything on your own."
Harry nodded, his gaze earnest. "I promise. Next time, I'll tell you."
But as the conversation wound down, a flicker of doubt lingered in Harry's mind. He had a tendency to face challenges alone—it was a habit born of necessity. Still, perhaps sharing some of the weight wouldn't hurt. If anything, it might make the burden on his shoulders just a little easier to bear.
Chapter 328: Chapter 328: "A Winter's Respite"
The wizarding world had always been a place of chaos and unpredictability, but after Dumbledore's dramatic return to the public eye, an unsettling stillness settled over Britain. It was as if the very air had been drained, leaving behind a tense, suffocating silence.
The Dark Alliance, which had been a constant thorn in Harry's side, suddenly went quiet. Their recruitment efforts, their raids, their murmurs of rebellion—all of it seemed to disappear overnight. Without the steady stream of intelligence from Arcturus Black's network, Harry might have assumed they had fled the continent or been eradicated by some unseen force.
But they hadn't. They were simply lying low. And while the lull should have brought him some relief, it instead left Harry feeling unsettled—and perhaps a little jealous. He had spent weeks, even months, planning and executing strikes to disrupt the Dark Alliance's progress. Yet all it had taken was one public appearance from Dumbledore, frail and hiding his cursed arm beneath his robes, to send them into hiding.
"Got to hand it to the old man," Harry muttered to himself. "For all his lemon drops and twinkling eyes, he still terrifies them."
It was puzzling. Dumbledore's power was undeniable, but Harry couldn't believe it was enough to provoke such a drastic reaction. It seemed more likely that Grindelwald had something to do with this sudden shift—his influence, or perhaps his alliances, might have unnerved the Dark Alliance. The idea made more sense than Dumbledore alone wielding such authority.
Harry couldn't quite put his finger on the reason, but he did know one thing for certain: he had a lot to learn from the old wizard, whether he liked it or not.
---
At Hogwarts, with the departure of Dolores Umbridge, the school underwent a remarkable transformation. The oppressive atmosphere that had loomed over the castle like a dark cloud had lifted, replaced by a sense of cautious optimism. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, a young Auror named Montgomery Clarke, was a welcome change. His practical approach to the subject had students scrambling to catch up on months of lost time.
The shift in teaching had an unexpected effect on Charles and his friends' DA—Dumbledore's Army. Without Umbridge's tyranny as a rallying point, many members drifted away. For most, the group had been less about loyalty to Dumbledore and more about improving their Defense skills.
The DA eventually shrank to a core of dedicated students, primarily Gryffindors. Luna Lovegood remained their sole Ravenclaw regular, and while Susan and a few Hufflepuffs occasionally joined, the DA had become more of an inner circle for Charles and his closest friends. Together, they continued training, preparing for whatever challenges Dumbledore's lessons with Charles suggested lay ahead.
Charles balanced his school life between DA meetings and the weekly sessions with Dumbledore. He had expected groundbreaking magical knowledge from these private lessons, but they mostly involved studying Voldemort's life history. While this focus was a bit disappointing, Charles respected Dumbledore enough not to complain or skip the lessons.
Meanwhile, Harry deliberately stayed away from the DA's activities. The quiet December suited him perfectly, giving him time to reflect on the progress he'd made in recent battles. Though he primarily relied on magic during fights, the intensity of those encounters had sharpened his combat experience in ways he hadn't fully realized before. His Knight training had also advanced significantly—he could feel it in the smoother flow of magic through him and his heightened awareness of his surroundings. By his own estimation, he was over 90% of the way toward achieving Great Knight status. Just a few more strides, and he would finally reach that milestone.
With more time on his hands, Harry also resumed his apprenticeship with Professor Flitwick. The half-goblin professor was a keen and observant mentor who had quickly pieced together what Harry had been up to during his late-night absences from the castle. Yet, Flitwick never pried or discouraged Harry's methods. As a goblin, he understood the realities of war better than most and seemed to accept that Dumbledore's path wasn't the way to fight.
Instead, Flitwick focused on refining Harry's skill with charms, encouraging him to explore non-combative uses of magic. "You've had enough practice with battle spells," he'd said with a knowing smile.
Harry obliged, though his mind often wandered back to the battles he'd fought—and to those he knew were still ahead. He couldn't afford to let his guard down, not even for a moment.
---
The Christmas holidays arrived swiftly, offering a much-needed break. Harry spent the season at Black Castle with Arcturus, Sirius, Emma, and the rest of his close-knit family. This year, everyone was present. Harry and Emma had even managed to convince the elderly Cordelia to leave her house and join them for the festivities.
The ancient fortress had been transformed into a warm and welcoming home, thanks largely to the tireless efforts of the house-elves. They decorated every room with magical lights and ornaments, filling the castle with a festive glow. Even Arcturus, who rarely showed enthusiasm, seemed to appreciate the transformation.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Harry allowed himself to truly relax. His days were spent swapping stories, engaging in prank wars with Sirius and the younger members of the family, and simply enjoying the rare sense of peace. For a brief time, the war was pushed to the back of their minds. Family came first.
---
The only significant disruption during the holidays occurred when a group of overconfident Death Eaters attempted to breach the Department of Mysteries. Fueled by arrogance, seven of them believed they could waltz in and retrieve the prophecy their master coveted. What they hadn't counted on was the Order of the Phoenix's unwavering vigilance.
The resulting skirmish was intense. The Order managed to hold the attackers at bay until Sirius arrived with a team of Aurors to apprehend them. No one was killed, but several members of the Order were injured, including Arthur Weasley. While his injuries weren't life-threatening, the incident disturbed Harry deeply. Despite all the changes he'd made to the timeline—despite Nagini's death—Mr. Weasley had still been hurt. It felt as though some unseen force was trying to pull events back toward their original course.
This realization left Harry increasingly paranoid about Sirius's safety. If the timeline had a way of self-correcting, Sirius could be at risk. Determined not to lose him, Harry resolved to keep a closer eye on his godfather for the rest of the year. The timeline's mysterious tendencies were an unpredictable factor he couldn't ignore.
Predictably, the Ministry remained as oblivious as ever. Minister Fudge continued to deny Voldemort's return, even with captured Death Eaters in custody. The Ministry brushed off the attack as the actions of "rogue elements" rather than acknowledging the larger threat. It was infuriating, but Harry knew better than to waste energy on Fudge's incompetence. He had far more important matters to focus on.
The quiet lasted into early January, but Harry could sense it wouldn't last. The Dark Alliance hadn't been defeated—they were regrouping. Grindelwald and Voldemort wouldn't stay hidden for long, and when they reemerged, their next move would undoubtedly be significant.
In the meantime, Harry made the most of the calm. He trained harder, studied longer, and ensured his team was ready for whatever was to come. The peace was a blessing, but Harry knew it was only temporary. Sooner or later, the shadow war would reignite.
As the second week of January came to a close, Harry's prediction proved correct. The stillness shattered, and once again, he was called to the battlefield.
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