The school crest looked pale, somewhat desolate.
Harry stood before Umbridge, towering nearly half a body taller than the toad-like woman.
He raised his wand high, golden threads linking it to the crest.
"As the Heir of Gryffindor, I hereby call upon the four Houses to answer my request—to expel Dolores Jane Umbridge from Hogwarts, and to never again open the castle gates to her."
His voice was soft but resolute.
"I will!" Ron bellowed, the first to respond.
Hermione shot him a glare and whispered, "Your wand, the crest!"
Realizing his mistake, Ron raised his wand solemnly. "I, Ron Weasley, as Prefect of Gryffindor, answer Harry Potter's request."
His wand and his Prefect badge buzzed, releasing a beam of red and gold light.
It struck the crest—Gryffindor's quarter filled with color. The lion came to life, leaping and roaring fiercely at Umbridge.
Umbridge's face paled.
Goldstein raised his wand coldly. "I, Anthony Goldstein, as Prefect of Ravenclaw, answer Harry Potter's request."
Blue and bronze light burst from his wand and badge, linking with the crest.
The eagle soared, screeching.
Cedric spoke sternly, "I, Cedric Diggory, as Prefect of Hufflepuff—"
He paused, remembering he was no longer Prefect.
He looked to the new Prefect.
They shook their head. "Cedric, only you can represent Hufflepuff."
Other Hufflepuffs echoed:
"Yes!"
"We agree!"
"You represent us completely."
Cedric took a deep breath. "I, Cedric Diggory, in the name of Hufflepuff, answer Harry Potter's request."
His wand emitted golden light like Harry's.
The new Prefect's badge vibrated. Black and yellow streamed from it, linking to the crest. The badger crawled, took several steps, then stood upright. It didn't roar, but silently stared at Umbridge with black gem-like eyes, claws raised.
Umbridge could hardly breathe.
Three-quarters of the crest was filled—one color remained.
All eyes turned to Draco.
Draco gripped his wand. "Potter, this doesn't mean I'm siding with you. I just don't want an incompetent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor messing up Hogwarts—it hinders my growth."
He slowly raised his wand.
The gesture made Umbridge's heart twist.
"I, Draco Malfoy, in the name of Slytherin, answer Harry Potter's request."
Green and silver light burst from his wand and badge, sluggishly entering and filling the final part of the crest.
The crest glowed—suddenly, a triangular snakehead slithered out, flicking its tongue, vicious and deadly.
The four colors awakened the pale crest, now shining in the Great Hall, reflecting the one above the staff table.
The golden thread connecting Harry's wand to the crest trembled.
The true masters of Hogwarts were never the headmasters, professors, or even the Founders' descendants—it was always the students, batch after batch, growing from children into adult wizards.
Far away in Godric's Hollow…
Gryffindor's portrait flew up, gazing toward Hogwarts.
"What is it?" Dumbledore sensed it too, following his gaze.
"If Helga knew, she'd be proud." Godric hummed, landing on Dumbledore's shoulder. "Let them enjoy their era."
"Let me visit Harry's home."
"Damn it, we're so close, and he never invited me!"
Dumbledore shook his head, walking away with him, in the opposite direction of Hogwarts.
Back in the Great Hall…
The Sorting Hat on Harry's waist stirred and began to sing:
Long ago I was a brand-new hat,
Back when Hogwarts had yet been built.
The four noble Founders, hand in hand,
Believed their unity would forever stand.
Though I was made to sort and divide,
I feared I might not be doing right.
For unity within we must preserve,
Lest from within we all disperse.
It had sung this at the start of term. A lament for the past, a warning for the present. Now it sang again, harmonizing with the surge of magical power from Harry's wand.
Umbridge suddenly felt a tug in her navel—a violent force ripping at her.
The air compressed around her—
Crack—
Her clothes and skin tore apart, a thick chunk ripping free and slapping onto the floor with a wet, sharp sound—eerily like Apparition. Umbridge vanished, leaving behind a chunk of flesh, torn fabric, and a nearly-split wand.
A low-level wizard who loses their wand is worse than a Muggle.
At least Muggles can use their hands and feet.
Wizards only have their wands.
Scrimgeour held his breath, watching a house-elf calmly clean up the blood and flesh, and cautiously asked, "Where did she go?"
"Hogwarts does not welcome her. Not for even a second," Harry said. "She's gone now, but where she reappears…"
"I don't know."
"But it won't be near anyone who ever graduated from Hogwarts."
Scrimgeour lowered his voice. "You know, don't you? Tell me. I won't let the Ministry save her."
Harry smiled but said nothing.
He withdrew his wand, the crest still hovering over the hall.
The Sorting Hat muttered, "Rare indeed… I never thought I'd witness such unity between all four Houses. Albus, this seat should've been yours, Harry."
"This was their choice. It has nothing to do with anyone else," Harry shook his head.
He waved to Neville, "Continue the lesson. I'll speak with Mr. Scrimgeour."
Neville nodded, glancing at the crest, and felt an odd surge of courage. His speech grew fluid and confident.
Harry and Scrimgeour exited through a side door into the courtyard.
"Harry, the Ministry is in terrible shape," Scrimgeour frowned. "I suspect Thicknesse has either been replaced or is now a Death Eater."
Harry looked surprised. "Why do you think that?"
"To be honest, it started as jealousy," Scrimgeour sighed. "I had the qualifications and capability to be Minister—so why him? I have to admit, the public praise for Thicknesse is overwhelming. And, yes, he seems capable."
"But before this, who knew he had it in him? Other than age and a receding hairline, what does he have over me?"
Harry nodded, listening quietly.
Scrimgeour continued, calmer now: "After the vote, I suspected he wasn't the real Thicknesse. At first, it was jealousy. I admit it."
"But not anymore!" he stressed, slamming a hand down. "Now I'm objective—and I've found clues!"
"On New Year's Day," he explained, "the Ministry resumed work. Our morning meeting was as boring and formal as ever."
"But at noon, he suddenly announced the Education Decree, bypassed discussion, and appointed Umbridge as Inquisitor. The Ministry loved it—after all, Dumbledore was too powerful. We feared him."
Harry sneered. "So your way of dealing with fear… was to strip him of everything?"
Scrimgeour said nothing.
Harry gestured. "Go on."
"Because of that, the decree passed quickly. Thicknesse told me to bring Aurors along—it was an official appointment, after all." Scrimgeour sat by the fountain. "In hindsight, that was odd. But abuse of power is common in the Ministry."
"When we got to Hogwarts, he told me—he wanted to arrest Sirius Black."
Scrimgeour rubbed his head in anguish. "I thought I misheard."
"I didn't want to do it. It would've put me at odds with you."
"Who would want to cross someone as fearless and reckless as Dumbledore? Or worse—You-Know-Who?"
"That's how I felt."
Harry said, "I'm not afraid of Dumbledore or Voldemort. I've punched them both."
"I meant normal people," Scrimgeour muttered, slightly embarrassed but more relaxed. "But I went anyway—I'm not just a person, I'm an Auror."
"Thicknesse was suspicious. His words sounded good—for Hogwarts, for the wizarding world—but I could see through him."
He pointed to his eyes. "I'm a skilled Auror, highly perceptive. I could tell his targets weren't Death Eaters—but maybe you, Hogwarts, Dumbledore, Sirius."
"So I chose to act dumb. To play the fool. A blind follower of authority."
"I knew I couldn't take Sirius from you—and Thicknesse never expected it to be your class time."
"I acted tough. Not easy, facing off with you—I was ready to lose a limb."
"But the risk paid off."
He grinned. "I'm still in one piece. And now, Thicknesse trusts me."
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Powerstones?
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