BlurryDream
patreon
Chapter 667: The Dismissed High Inquisitor
🕑 Added 2025-03-30 13:58:06 +0000 UTCThe news of Voldemort’s return caused an uproar at Hogwarts. No matter where you went, conversations about it filled the air.
Students from magical families were particularly shaken, their fear of Voldemort deeply ingrained and now rekindled after reading the newspaper. Even the professors weren’t immune to the tension; groups of two or three could often be seen huddling in the corridors, speaking in hushed tones that ceased abruptly whenever a student approached.
This wasn’t the case for everyone, though. In Slytherin, the atmosphere was starkly different. Among the pure-blood students, excitement buzzed through the air, as if it were Christmas morning.
At lunch, Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode strutted into the Great Hall with their heads held high, their shrill laughter echoing nonstop. They moved like peacocks displaying their feathers, oblivious to the tension gripping the rest of the school.
“Look at those two turkeys again,” Susan Bones muttered in disgust. “I’m sure someone in their family is a Death Eater.”
The Bones family’s long-standing support of the Order of the Phoenix had placed them in direct opposition to the Death Eaters for over a decade, leaving behind an unshakable animosity. That hatred had simmered quietly while Voldemort was gone and his most infamous followers were imprisoned. But with his return and the recent Azkaban breakout, old hostilities had flared anew, and sides were once again clearly drawn.
Susan usually held no particular grudge against most Slytherins, but recent events had altered her perspective.
“Hey, what are you all talking about?”
Fred and George Weasley joined the Hufflepuff table unceremoniously, taking seats as if they belonged there.
“Those two, obviously,” Mikel said, nodding toward the Slytherin table where Pansy and Millicent were loudly holding court.
“Do you think they’re on the Death Eaters’ side?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Fred replied. “If you’d read the papers again, you’d have seen that one of the Death Eaters who escaped yesterday was a Bulstrode.”
“I don’t understand why the headmaster doesn’t expel them,” Susan said, stabbing at her pork schnitzel in frustration.
“Because they’re not Death Eaters,” Cedric pointed out. “At least, not yet—they’re just students. The headmaster can’t expel someone simply because of their family name. That would go against Hogwarts’ principles.”
“Just like during the Chamber of Secrets incident,” Cedric continued, “the headmaster didn’t expel Harry, even though he was the prime suspect.”
“That’s true,” Mikel conceded grudgingly, “but they’re still so annoying. I’d love to teach them a lesson.”
“I second that!” George chimed in enthusiastically. “Count me in.”
“You’d better forget about it,” Cedric warned. “If you get caught, you’ll definitely end up in detention.”
“It doesn’t matter if no one finds out,” Fred said in a conspiratorial whisper. “I know Honeydukes has these massive brown paper bags they use for deliveries—big enough to fit a person. You could use one to grab Millicent or Pansy... you know, before teaching them a thing or two.”
Fred’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he let out a series of sly chuckles.
“I’ll handle it,” Susan said, surprising everyone with her sudden eagerness. “I buy loads of sweets from Honeydukes every year. I can probably borrow a couple of those bags.”
“Borrow?” George grinned. “We might as well buy them. I have a feeling those bags are going to become the next hot commodity. We can’t keep borrowing them indefinitely.”
“I think it’s time you two headed back to Gryffindor to discuss this,” Cedric interrupted impatiently. To shut down their growing scheme, he quickly changed the subject. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“Oh, right!” Fred said, snapping back to the original purpose of their visit. “We came to see you.”
“We were wondering if we should expand the DA,” George added. “Things are different now. We reckon there must be more students who want to learn how to protect themselves.”
“That was the reason we started the DA in the first place,” Cedric said, narrowing his eyes. “But are you two serious about this?”
“Well...” Fred began with a sheepish grin. “Actually, Hermione wanted us to ask. She’s swamped right now—carrying a stack of books so massive, it looks like she’s trying to move the entire library into the dormitory.”
“We had some free time, so we offered to take care of it for her,” George explained.
Cedric eyed them skeptically. He knew Fred and George far too well to believe they’d come all this way just for a serious discussion about the DA. Besides, expanding the club wasn’t a decision Cedric could make on his own.
“Tell the truth!” Cedric demanded, his tone icy.
Fred and George exchanged glances before Fred broke into a smirk. “You really are the Head Boy. Nothing gets past you.” With a dramatic flourish, he produced a pointed hat adorned with a red feather seemingly out of nowhere.
“We just wanted to ask if you could wear this hat to the next DA meeting,” Fred said.
“The hat that makes your head invisible? Forget it,” Cedric replied without hesitation. “I don’t want to become everyone’s laughingstock.”
The DA meetings were for learning Defense Against the Dark Arts, not auditioning for the Headless Hunt. Besides, there was no reason to hide your head in such a serious setting.
“No, no, no—you’ve got it all wrong!” Fred quickly protested. “This is one of our new products, made just last night.”
“We call it the Shield Hat,” George added. “It’s very simple: it can withstand one attack from a spell.”
“Given the current circumstances, having a hat like this could be a lifesaver,” Fred said with uncharacteristic seriousness.
The gravity of their words made Cedric pause. “If it’s really that good, wouldn’t it be better to sell it outright? Show everyone what it does, like you’ve done before, and I’m sure plenty of people would buy it.”
“We tried that this morning,” Fred admitted, his expression turning gloomy. “The response was... average.”
“Maybe it’s a bit expensive,” George offered. “People don’t really trust our products when they cost too much.”
“Expensive?” Cedric echoed, confused. The Weasleys’ products rarely cost more than five Galleons, which was a fair price for most Hogwarts students.
“Well, we priced it at fifty Galleons,” George said.
Cedric nearly choked on his pumpkin juice, quickly clapping a hand over his mouth to avoid spitting it everywhere. “Fifty Galleons?”
That was nearly a month’s salary for an average Ministry employee—a cost far beyond the reach of most students at Hogwarts.
“There’s nothing we can do about it. That’s the lowest we can go,” Fred sighed heavily.
“We used dragon-hide—real dragon-hide,” George explained. “Not the whole thing, but enough to justify the price.”
Fred leaned forward, his tone growing conspiratorial. “That’s why we need someone famous to advertise it.”
“That’s strange...” Fred suddenly turned toward Kyle, who had been listening quietly nearby. “Why is it that all your expensive stuff sells so easily? I remember that necklace you made from a dragon’s tooth sold for a hundred Galleons.”
“That’s because the buyer was a Slytherin,” Kyle replied with a casual shrug. “They don’t lack money.”
“Forget it then,” George said, shaking his head pointedly. “Slytherins probably don’t worry much about being attacked by Death Eaters anyway.”
Returning to the matter at hand, Fred and George refocused their attention on Cedric.
“If you wear it, maybe more people will want to buy it,” Fred suggested.
As a shareholder in the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, Cedric sighed and gave a small nod after only a brief hesitation. “Alright, but the feather has to go—it’s hideous. And I want to test the hat’s effects first.”
“No problem,” George said enthusiastically, plopping the hat onto his own head. “Go ahead—attack me!”
“Petrificus Totalus!”
Cedric cast the spell before George had even finished speaking. The Charm hit him squarely, sending him flying backward. He landed on the ground with a thud but quickly scrambled back to his feet, unaffected.
“It works!” George said triumphantly, brushing himself off with a grin.
As a shareholder in the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, Cedric sighed and gave a small nod after only a brief hesitation. “Alright, but the feather has to go—it’s hideous. And I want to test the hat’s effects first.”
“No problem,” George said enthusiastically, plopping the hat onto his own head. “Go ahead—attack me!”
“Petrificus Totalus!”
He was hit by the spell before he had even finished speaking. The Charm hit him squarely, sending him flying backward. He landed on the ground with a thud but quickly scrambled back to his feet, unaffected.
“Hey, Kyle, you should have warned me,” George grumbled.
“That way, the test is more effective, isn’t it?” Kyle replied, eyeing the top of George's head, where the hat had split right down the middle.
“Only once?” George asked.
“It depends on the power of the spell,” Fred explained, looking slightly concerned. “A stronger spell can only be resisted once. But if someone else cast it, you’d be fine.”
“Don’t forget, the Death Eaters are all adult wizards, and none of them are weak,” Kyle added. “Take Barty Crouch Jr., for example. When he first graduated, he earned twelve certificates.”
“What? A Death Eater got twelve certificates?” George forgot about the hat entirely, staring in disbelief. “Doesn’t that make him the same as Bill and Percy?”
“Exactly,” Kyle confirmed. “In the fifty years before Hogwarts, only those three earned twelve certificates.”
“And yet, you’re surprised?” Kyle continued. “Anyone Voldemort would take on as an follower isn’t a fool.”
“Like Peter Pettigrew?” Fred interjected.
“He’s... a bit special,” Kyle replied, shaking his head. “Even among Death Eaters, Peter isn’t well liked.”
“Okay,” George muttered, tearing off a plate-sized piece of leather from his damaged hat.
“Is this dragon-hide?” Cedric asked.
“Yeah. We bought it from Hogsmeade—it was outrageously expensive,” George said, nodding. “But to make the hat withstand the spell, the runes have to be engraved on dragon-hide. If we used ordinary fabric, the moment it came into contact with the spell, the hat would fall apart because of the impact transmitted to the runes. It would be completely useless.”
Kyle examined the piece of dragon-hide for a moment before saying, “Have you ever thought about making it disposable? Remove all the runes that slow down the spell’s power and replace them with a ‘Charging’ symbol. A more... barbaric approach to counter the spell’s effect.”
“That would use less dragon-hide too,” he added thoughtfully.
“Disposable?” Fred mused. “But then it wouldn’t be able to identify the type of spell. Even a basic Cleaning Charm could trigger the defense mechanism.”
“And ‘Charging’ is very unstable,” Cedric pointed out. “Once triggered, the dragon-hide would be destroyed completely.”
“But it’s cheap,” Kyle said with a grin. “The symbol doesn’t take up much space, and you’d only need one-fifth of the dragon-hide you’re using now. The cost would drop significantly.”
For a moment, everyone stared at Kyle with a mix of astonishment and wariness.
It's just so typical of Kyle...
“I didn’t realize you were this ruthless,” Fred said with mock disgust. “And we thought we were shady.”
“What do you think?” Kyle asked, sounding a bit impatient. “If we cut costs, the selling price can be adjusted accordingly. Something that originally cost 50 Galleons could be sold for 10 Galleons. That way, more people could afford it."
“And honestly, if you really run into a Death Eater, this disposable version would be more effective.”
“You’re right,” Fred admitted, stroking his chin. “Okay, we can give it a try...”
As the three of them delved into a lively discussion, Cedric stepped aside, his thoughts drifting to the growing DA. Personally, he didn’t want to expand the group any further. More members meant more work for him, and he was already stretched thin.
The DA had grown to nearly 80 members, which was borderline unmanageable. If the numbers kept increasing, he’d have to extend the meeting times. And realistically, the growth wouldn’t just be one or two members—it could easily double.
Nearly 200 people... Three-hour meetings were out of the question.
So when Fred and George were preparing to leave, Cedric could only offer a vague reply to their enthusiasm.
“Let’s discuss it later when we have more time,” he said. “Maybe the school will hire a more reliable Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and then we won’t even need the DA anymore.”
“Okay,” Fred and George said, unfazed. They were eager to return to researching their new product and hurried off with a spring in their step.
...
In the afternoon, Fudge arrived.
Whether intentionally or not, he came just before the start of the first lesson, ensuring almost all the students saw him make his way to Headmaster Dumbledore's office. No one knew what was discussed inside—not even Kyle.
Throughout the afternoon, everyone waited with bated breath.
“I hope he takes Umbridge with him,” Mikel whispered during Herbology later that day. “We clearly need a more reliable Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, not someone who just makes us read and copy.”
His words were met with murmurs of agreement from the others.
By the time dinner was served, the Great Hall was abuzz with speculation about whether Umbridge might finally be gone for good.
At last, Dumbledore entered, and a hush fell over the Hall as he cleared his throat.
“As you are all aware, Voldemort and his followers are stirring once more, and their power continues to grow,” Dumbledore began, his voice grave and steady.
A tense and almost suffocating silence settled over the room.
“I must emphasize that the situation is serious. Everyone must exercise the utmost caution to ensure their safety."
“The Ministry of Magic has agreed to help Hogwarts strengthen its magical defenses, but vigilance from every student and teacher remains essential."
“I therefore ask that you strictly adhere to all rules, however inconvenient they may seem."
“And finally, regarding our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor...”
Cedric’s head shot up at this.
“First, Professor Umbridge will continue to teach you.”
A ripple of groans and discontent spread across the Hall, and Umbridge’s expression, as she sat nearby, grew thunderous.
“However...” Dumbledore continued, raising his voice to regain their attention, “the Ministry of Magic has recognized that in times of crisis, it is vital for everyone to learn proper self-defense. One professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts is simply not sufficient.”
Gasps filled the room as Dumbledore went on.
“Therefore, two experienced Aurors will be joining Professor Umbridge to assist with your instruction.”
Cheers erupted instantly, drowning out the earlier discontent.
But Dumbledore wasn’t finished.
“In addition...” he said, his voice light but clear, ignoring the furious presence of Umbridge beside him, “the Ministry and I have agreed on the importance of fostering trust between Hogwarts and the government. As part of this agreement, the Minister has decided to abolish the position of High Inquisitor.”
A wave of astonishment swept the Hall.
“I am also pleased to announce that all previous Educational Decrees, including the requirement for registering clubs and the probationary status of certain professors, have been revoked.”
This news was met with deafening cheers, applause, and even the rhythmic pounding of hands on tables.
For the first time that day, the Great Hall was alive with unbridled joy.
