Chapitre 51: Chapter 47: Covert Actions
In the common room, Hermione shouted as if her patience had finally run out.
For a girl who loved studying as much as she did, there was nothing more infuriating than Umbridge's lessons. Especially now, when Voldemort had returned, and everyone needed to be prepared. Without proper training, they wouldn't even be able to protect themselves when the Dark forces made their move.
"That woman is awful. An absolutely terrible person. We have to do something about her!"
"Let's poison her."
"Ron, shut up!"
Of course, "doing something" didn't mean they wanted to kill her. That would be a crime, plain and simple. Straight to Azkaban.
"That's not what I mean. What I'm saying is that as a teacher, Umbridge is absolutely unfit for the job. We aren't learning anything useful from her."
"But what can we do about it?"
"We'll teach ourselves!"
Hermione declared with complete confidence, as if it were the most brilliant idea in the world.
But self-study was something they'd already been doing. They'd read books and learned from them before. They'd already passed that stage.
"But, Hermione, we won't be able to do much on our own."
"Exactly. What we need is a teacher. Someone who can teach us properly and correct our mistakes."
Hermione glanced at Harry, a look of expectation in her eyes.
But Harry had no idea what she was getting at.
"Are you talking about Lupin? But he's…"
"No, Harry. I know Lupin's too busy for that. I'm talking about you."
Harry's eyes widened in shock at the unexpected bombshell that Hermione just dropped.
What did she just say?
She couldn't be suggesting that he be the teacher, right?
Harry thought Hermione had finally lost it, but her face was as serious as could be.
"Me? No way. I can't do it. If anyone's going to do it, it should be you."
"No, Harry. Your Defense Against the Dark Arts scores are higher than mine. And you've got more experience than any of us."
When it comes to fighting against Dark magic, what really matters is quick decision-making and practical experience.
And if that's the criteria, then there's no one more qualified than Harry.
He's been in life-or-death situations multiple times and survived.
More than that, he's encountered him three times and lived to tell the tale.
No one has a survival record like Harry Potter.
"You know what, I'm all for it," Ron said with a grin. "It's definitely better than me trying to teach everyone."
He was grinning, but his support was clear.
However, Hermione sighed and pressed her hand to her forehead.
"Ron... Maybe you should learn how to actually use magic first?"
Ron had spent an entire year in St. Mungo's Hospital, and since returning, he had been relying more on brute force and his naturally sturdy physique than on actual spellwork.
Well, maybe that was understandable, considering he'd missed an entire year of lessons.
"But I…"
"Of course, you won't be doing it alone, Harry. I'll help too. And I'm sure there are other students who feel the same way. People like Cedric or Edith."
The first step was clear.
They needed to gather allies.
Now, more than ever, they had to come together and unite against Umbridge.
With that goal in mind, Hermione swiped Harry's Marauder's Map and began looking for students who might be willing to join them.
Cedric Diggory — He was in the Hufflepuff common room with Cho Chang.
The Weasley Twins — They were in the library. What they were doing there was anyone's guess.
Luna Lovegood — In the bathroom.
Angelina Johnson — In the Gryffindor girls' dormitory.
Edith Leinnagel — In the Slytherin common room, along with Daphne, Mary, and someone named Reiner. Hermione didn't recognize those names, but they were probably Edith's Slytherin friends.
There were plenty of other students who would probably join their cause.
The days of being suppressed and silenced were over.
It was time to strike back.
Watching Hermione's determined expression, Harry let out a heavy sigh, sensing yet another headache on the horizon.
"Edith, can I talk to you for a moment?"
During the break, Hermione jogged up to Edith, who was walking down the hallway.
It wasn't unusual for Hermione to call out to her like this. Despite being from opposing houses — Gryffindor and Slytherin — the two had become close, irreplaceable friends.
"Hm? What is it, Hermione?"
"Well, you know we're going to Hogsmeade soon, right?"
"Yeah."
"We're planning to meet at one of the pubs in Hogsmeade to discuss self-study for Defense Against the Dark Arts. You know, since we're not learning any real defense skills in Umbridge's class."
Edith nodded in agreement with Hermione's words.
She'd been thinking the same thing for a while.
Actually, it wasn't just her. Every student had probably realized it by now.
That woman was not fit to be a teacher.
"To learn real defensive magic, we need to take matters into our own hands and teach ourselves."
It was just as Mirabel had predicted before.
Edith nodded without letting her thoughts show on her face.
Self-study was definitely a good idea, and something they should absolutely do.
The only issue was the danger of getting caught by Umbridge.
"And you know, I think Harry would be a perfect fit for the teacher."
"…Huh?"
Harry? Why? Why him?!
Sure, Harry had top-tier grades in Defense Against the Dark Arts.
But he was still just a student, not someone raised with elite training like Mirabel. It's not as if he knew spells the rest of them didn't.
Besides, he didn't have the temperament of a teacher.
If Hermione had suggested that she be the teacher, Edith might have reluctantly agreed.
But Harry? Absolutely not.
Her expression clearly conveyed her disbelief, and Hermione, sensing it, hastily tried to explain.
"But think about it — he's got more real-world experience than any of us. He's the only one who's actually faced Voldemort."
"Well… I guess that's true, but…"
If it's about actual combat experience, then Harry probably did have more than anyone else at Hogwarts.
Every single year, without fail, he found himself caught up in some kind of dangerous incident.
In his first year, it was the troll, Fluffy, and Quirrell. In his second year, it was Tom Riddle.
In his third year, he drove away Dementors. In his fourth year, he won the Triwizard Tournament and even faced Voldemort himself.
When she thought about it that way, maybe he was surprisingly well-suited for the role.
"And that's why I was thinking you could join us too, Edith."
"…Hey, Hermione, how many people are joining this thing?"
"Let's see… well, just a few, I suppose. Obviously, Harry, Ron, and I will be there. Then Neville, Dean, Lavender, Cedric, Parvati, Padma, Katie, Alicia, Angelina… and…"
"Okay, okay, stop, stop!"
Hearing the endless list of names pouring out of Hermione's mouth, Edith hurriedly stopped her.
This is not "a few people" at all.
At that moment, Edith made up her mind.
"Sorry, but I can't go."
"W-why not?!"
"I'm a Slytherin, remember? If I show up, everyone's just going to assume I'm a spy for Umbridge. I don't want to be the reason your meeting gets ruined, so I'm going to sit this one out."
That was her honest opinion.
Most Slytherins were on Umbridge's side.
Draco Malfoy, in particular, was eager to win her favor and actively tried to sniff out what the other houses were up to.
Of course, Edith wasn't like that, but just having a Slytherin present would probably sour the atmosphere.
It might even scare off some of the students who'd be willing to join.
If Hermione and the others were serious about building up their strength to oppose the Dark forces, it was better to have as many people on board as possible.
So Edith decided it would be best if she didn't go.
"But if you don't learn how to fight the Dark forces, you'll be in danger too, Edith!"
Hermione's voice rose with worry.
She was concerned about the possibility of Edith being targeted.
After all, Edith had been attacked by a Basilisk during her second year.
But Edith simply shook her head.
"It's fine. I'm already practicing with Mirabel."
"With Beresford?"
"Yeah. Well, it's less of 'practicing together' and more like 'being taught by her,' to be honest."
Unfortunately, Edith and Mirabel were on entirely different levels when it came to magical skill.
It would be nearly impossible for them to practice as equals.
For now, Edith was simply in the position of being taught.
But that small, private study group was definitely bearing fruit.
Edith's magical skills were steadily improving.
"That's why I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, Hermione."
"…Alright, I understand."
Hermione still looked dissatisfied, her face clouded with concern.
But in the face of the deep-seated animosity between houses, she reluctantly gave up on convincing Edith to join.
Seeing Hermione look so disappointed made Edith feel a little guilty.
So she forced a smile and tried to reassure her friend.
"Do your best, Hermione. I can't join you, but if anything happens, I'll be there in a flash."
"Yeah… thanks, Edith."
They shared a firm handshake before Hermione ran off.
Edith watched her go, then resumed her walk to her next class.
All the while, she silently prayed that Hermione's gathering would go off without a hitch.
Several weeks had passed.
Harry and his friends' gatherings were progressing smoothly, even as they carefully navigated a precarious path.
While it seemed that Umbridge had already caught on to the fact that such gatherings were taking place, she had no solid evidence to prove it.
Moreover, discovering the Room of Requirement had been a significant breakthrough, allowing them to practice in secret without being caught.
On the other hand, Edith had been rapidly improving under Mirabel's guidance, and by now, she possessed skills that even surpassed those of seventh-year students — at least in dueling.
But it wasn't as if everything was free from trouble.
In the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, Gryffindor won as usual, and Malfoy, as usual, trembled with humiliation. So far, this was nothing out of the ordinary.
(Mirabel wasn't playing this year since she had only been a stand-in at Marcus's request the previous year.)
But what happened next became a major problem. Malfoy, perhaps eager to prove that the howls of a sore loser could be more than just annoying, ended up being beaten up by Harry and the Weasley twins.
Although one could argue that Harry and the twins had lost their tempers, it was more appropriate to praise Malfoy for his talent in provocation.
He might have been a second-rate Quidditch player, but he was a first-rate master at getting under people's skin.
In the end, Harry and the twins' impulsive actions gave Umbridge the opening she needed. She stripped them of their right to play in future Quidditch matches. This outcome was undoubtedly a major victory for Slytherin.
...Of course, it goes without saying that such a petty tactic only deepened the other houses' disgust toward Slytherin.
But even that incident paled in comparison to the major event that occurred outside the school.
"A mass breakout from Azkaban, huh?"
During breakfast in the Great Hall, Mirabel took a bite of her bread and spoke with a tone that bordered on mockery.
Her disdain was likely directed at the Ministry of Magic.
If the breakout had occurred without warning, one might still be able to excuse them as incompetent but unlucky.
But after being forewarned and still failing to prevent it, there was no room for sympathy.
"By this point, you'd think they'd realize that Dumbledore was telling the truth..."
"Cornelius Fudge is nothing but a liability to the wizarding world at this point. He should just resign already."
With that, Mirabel took a sip of corn soup and crumpled the newspaper in her hands.
Though her words were harsh, they were also undeniably true.
Cornelius Fudge was, without a doubt, a liability to the wizarding world.
He did nothing to address the growing threat, actively hindered his allies, and clung to power with desperate tenacity.
At this point, it would have been better if he simply weren't there. It was a cruel thought, but honestly, it might have been more beneficial if a Death Eater had just killed him.
Meanwhile, as the Ministry dragged its feet, the forces of darkness were steadily making preparations.
"I think so too... These people are just too stupid...
If this keeps up, someone could sneak into the Ministry, and they wouldn't even notice, would they?"
"Most likely. Or worse — someone may have already infiltrated it."
Mirabel placed her empty soup bowl aside and leaned back in her chair, savoring the aftertaste of her meal.
But after witnessing such a display of incompetence from the Ministry, it was hard to feel at ease.
She had known they were inept. She had expected them to be an obstacle.
But to see just how utterly useless they were…
"With things like this, how are Harry and the others supposed to protect themselves?"
"Hey, you're asking the wrong question, Reinegull."
Mirabel gave a wry smile, looking exasperated at Edith's concern for Harry and the others at this late stage.
"When the Ministry finally collapses, you'll be on the hit list too, you know?
You should worry about yourself first."
"I'll be fine."
"Huh? And why's that?"
Truthfully, Edith was in a position as dangerous as Hermione's.
She must have been aware of that too, but even so, she declared with confidence that she would be fine.
This puzzled Mirabel, who cast her a suspicious glance.
In response, Edith flashed a mischievous grin and gazed at Mirabel.
"Because the most powerful wizard I know is going to protect me. That's why I'll be fine."
"…"
Mirabel's expression was like someone who had just opened a jack-in-the-box.
But as the meaning of Edith's words sank in, her face shifted into a troubled smile.
"You're such a carefree fool."
Should she take it as a sign of trust? Or should she be more concerned about Edith's lack of caution?
As Mirabel pondered this, she noticed Edith gazing intently at her face.
"...What is it? Do I have something on my face?"
"Not really… But, Mirabel, you've been smiling a lot more lately."
"Huh?"
"Well, you used to smile before too, but it was more like… you know, a smirk — like you were looking down on people or mocking them.
But now, your smiles feel more natural. Your whole face looks kinder than before."
That felt oddly insulting.
Mirabel pursed her lips in mild annoyance.
But it wasn't as if she was genuinely angry — if anything, she looked more like she was sulking.
"I'll have to be more careful, then..."
"No, you don't! You should leave it as it is!
Honestly, I like the way you smile now a lot more!"
"…"
Edith hastily tried to smooth things over, but Mirabel's expression grew oddly complicated.
However, she soon relaxed, gently stroking Edith's hair.
The sudden gesture made Edith's face turn red in surprise.
With a smile, Mirabel spoke softly.
"I like you too, Reinegull."
"—!!"
Edith's mind went blank, stunned by words she never expected to hear from Mirabel.
Wait, what? What's happening? Was she always like this?
Could this be an imposter using Polyjuice Potion to prank me?
No, but they drank the antidote for Polyjuice Potion during Potions class the other day, and Mirabel stayed Mirabel.
And besides, Polyjuice's effect would have worn off by now.
She's not sipping something regularly like Mad-Eye Moody did, either.
No way — is this a hallucination from a misfired spell? No, that's ridiculous.
Calm down.
Oh no. My mind is spinning.
Qawsedrftgyhujikolp — ah, I can't think straight anymore.
Edith's mind was in a whirl of confusion, to the point that even she didn't know what she was thinking.
When she glanced at Mirabel, she saw her grinning slyly.
— I've been played.
She realized it instantly, and her face flushed even redder.
"Ahahaha… You're so easy to tease.
What's wrong? Do you actually have those kinds of feelings for me?"
"Wha—?! Absolutely not!!"
"Oh my, so scary, so scary."
I take it back.
Yep, she's definitely Mirabel.
Edith gasped for breath, downed a glass of water, and slammed it back on the table.
She glared at Mirabel with a flat, unimpressed gaze.
"You've got a terrible personality, you know that?"
"Heh. Isn't that obvious by now?"
Mirabel chuckled, lifting the corners of her lips in amusement.
It was a beautiful smile, Edith thought.
Mirabel had always been strikingly beautiful, but this smile was different.
Even if Mirabel had an ordinary face, this smile alone would have been captivating.
It was natural. Unforced.
Drawn in by it, Edith found herself smiling too.
There they sat — two girls sharing a laugh.
It was unmistakably the sight of genuine friends enjoying each other's company.
One of the three major magical nations, France, is home to a magical society whose symbol of order is the French Ministry of Magic.
The ministry employs numerous staff members who work daily to maintain the peace and order of the magical world.
At first glance, it may seem like an ordinary scene — a normal day at work.
But if one were to look closer, they would surely notice something was wrong.
All the employees have vacant, lifeless eyes. They move like machines, working mechanically without concern for physical fatigue and without exchanging a single word with one another.
It would be impossible not to sense the strangeness of the scene.
However, there are no "people" left to think of it as strange.
All of them had been turned into puppets with no will of their own.
Yet, not every living being in the building had been reduced to such a state.
Amid the seemingly mechanical crowd of the Ministry of Magic, two beings walked — beings who retained their own sense of self, yet could only be described as "monsters."
"With this, the entire French Ministry of Magic is now under my control. Well, this is what happens to a complacent, peace-addled organization."
"You truly are a terrifying monster. So, now that you've seized control of one nation, what's next on your agenda?"
The one speaking with such satisfaction is Nosferatu, a wizard draped in a crimson hood that conceals his entire body.
His conversation partner is none other than Gellert Grindelwald, once a symbol of terror.
Two monsters, each capable of instilling fear throughout the magical world on their own, now strode boldly through the pristine halls of a building meant for humans.
"Hmm... I suppose I'll proceed cautiously, one step at a time. Believe it or not, I prefer to take my time with methodical effort. I'm a cautious man, you see."
"Big words coming from the guy who plotted to overthrow an entire country."
"No, I'm being quite serious. I have a compulsion for steady, deliberate progress, stacking each piece neatly in its place. And before I aim for my true target — Britain — I intend to ensure my preparations are perfect."
Beneath his robe, Nosferatu's mouth twisted into a crescent-shaped grin.
It was the kind of grin that made it seem as though his mouth had been split open all the way to his ears.
It was a grotesque, malevolent smile that revealed his true monstrosity, overshadowing any beauty his appearance might have possessed.
From his open mouth, sharp fangs gleamed with a dull glow, as though hungry for prey.
"You will head to Ireland next," Nosferatu declared.
"Ireland? …Ah, I see. You mean to surround Britain."
"Exactly. I've already stationed some subordinates there, but it seems they're struggling a bit. I want you to assist them."
France had fallen.
And the next two targets had already been decided.
If Voldemort sought to take Britain, then let him try.
If Dumbledore wanted to fortify Britain's defenses, let him go ahead.
In the meantime, they would simply surround Britain from the outside.
"While you handle that, I will destroy the German Ministry of Magic. We will strike Britain only after that is complete."
The monsters moved quietly in the shadows, yet their actions were bold and brazen.
And there was no one to stop them.
No angel existed in this world to halt the march of the devils.
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