I do not own Harry Potter. Direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix will be in bold.

Truth By Way of Quibbler

Luna wasn't sure when the tell-all edition of The Quibbler would be released, but she figured it wouldn't be for another month. As the days wore on Charlie was beginning to wonder if she had done the right thing. She wanted to get her version of the story out for sure, but Flitwick was probably going to kill her.

Then again, the expression on Umbridge's face would be more than worth it.

During breakfast a week after Valentine's Day, Charlie found herself sitting next to Cho. "Hey," she greeted, piling some fruit onto her plate.

Cho smiled. "Hi! It feels like I haven't seen you since we ran into each other in Hogsmeade, and we live in the same House!"

Charlie laughed. "The homework load is insane. I don't think it's entirely legal. How'd your date go with Cedric?"

"Great," she answered happily. "At first he didn't think he'd be able to make it down for Valentine's Day. He arrived without telling me as a surprise. He had roses and everything."

"You're a lucky girl," remarked Charlie.

"How did your date with Harry go?"

Charlie, who had just popped a piece of watermelon in her mouth, choked in surprise. Startled, Cho slapped her friend on the back until she was breathing evenly again. Red in the face and with tears in her eyes, Charlie had to fight the urge to burst into hysterical laughter.

"It wasn't a date," she managed to say. "We just hung around Hogsmeade together. Ron was at Quidditch practice and Hermione met up with us later."

"Oh." Cho blushed. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay. An understanding assumption to make on Valentine's Day." Charlie picked up her goblet and took a long drink.

"What did you guys end up doing?"

Charlie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before answering. "Oh, we went to the Three Broomsticks and met up with Hermione. She brought…uh, a mutual acquaintance of ours with her and she's a journalist. She asked me all about Vol-er, You-Know-Who and I told all."

Cho gaped. "You didn't!"

"I did."

"She's going to kill you."

Charlie snuck a fleeting glance over at Umbridge, who was sitting primly at the High Table. "Probably. But I'm tired of hearing her and the Ministry try to discredit Dumbledore and I. Now with this Azkaban breakout, I felt like I needed to do something. The pen is mightier than the sword, as they say."

Cho shook her head in awe. "When will the story be released?"

"Next month, I think. But it's going to be in The Quibbler, so make of that what you will."

"It doesn't matter what publication it's in. The story comes from you, and that's all that matters." Cho took a bite of her muffin and chewed thoughtfully. "Though I don't understand why people are being so stubborn about this."

"Fear is an interesting factor," Charlie replied.

"Yeah, I guess so." Cho finished eating and stood up. "I better get going. Practice starts soon and I have to get ready. See you there?"

"You know it."

She ventured off and Charlie felt it was safe enough to go back to her fruit. As she was eating, the familiar voice of her brother entered her mind.

'What the heck was with that choking display?'

'Oh, Cho thought we were on a date on Valentine's Day and I thought it was hilarious.'

'That's it. I have to stop hanging out with you. I'll never get a girlfriend.'

Charlie snorted. 'Yeah, I'm the reason you can't get a girlfriend.'

'Where's Hermione?'

'Revising her homework. Ancient Runes. I already did mine.'

The Great Hall doors swung open and Ron slouched in, freshly-showered and completely downtrodden. Charlie glanced at her redheaded friend before swivelling to glance at Harry at the Hufflepuff table. 'Guess this was another bummer practice.'

'He does great when no one is looking. I've seen him. But once the attention is on him he gets really nervous.'

'How's the rest of the team looking?'

'Well, the new beaters aren't great. They collided into each other last practice. Fred and George looked completely disgusted with their performance. Alicia looked like she wanted to cry. No offense, but I'm hoping your team loses tomorrow.'

'No offense taken. Ron will stop feeling nervous eventually,' said Charlie, confident that she was right. 'It'll just take some time.'

'Here's hoping it doesn't take too much time. Hey, I overheard the Weasley twins saying that there's nothing around for them anymore now that they can't play Quidditch. Their products are doing really well, apparently. You think they'll drop out?'

'Not unless they're ready to face Mrs. Weasley. I'm gonna head out to watch my team practice. Wanna come?'

'Nah. I got some last minute homework to do. Have fun.'

'I'd rather be on the broom, but I'm sure watching won't be so bad.'

Charlie finished eating and stood up. She hurried out of the Great Hall and went outside into the brisk morning air. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her robes and walked across the cold, muddy ground. She reached the Quidditch pitch and spotted her teammates already flying laps. She took a seat in the stands and watched as Eliza blew her whistle, calling them all to the ground.

"Look who it is," said Tommy. The freckled, sandy-haired seventh-year was leaning against the end of his broomstick, grinning down at her. "It's about time you showed up for a practice."

"Excuse you, I only didn't show up to watch for one of them," returned Charlie.

"Alright, guys, we're going to start with a few drills," instructed Eliza. "We'll start with the Keeper. Get ready, Cho."

Eliza, Tommy and Danny soared towards the goals, Quaffles in hand. Cho kept her eyes peeled, darting from one hoop to another, catching the large red balls nimbly with her fingers. After many intense rounds of this, Eliza nodded in approval.

"Great job, Cho."

Cho flushed with pleasure. "Thanks!"

The rest of the practice was filled with regular drills with the Beaters, the Chasers and the Seeker. Brizon Jenkins was a tall, thin, wild-haired sixth-year who Charlie could admit was decent on a broomstick. She wished she could be in the upcoming game, but she could be content with just watching her friends play.

"Heads up!"

Charlie snapped her head up and her eyes widened as Brizon hurtled towards her, the golden Snitch an inch away from his outstretched hand as he barrelled towards her. She sidestepped out of the way and Brizon crashed into the seats, his broomstick flying off without him. Charlie shot out her hand and wrapped her fingers tightly around the Snitch as it attempted to bypass her ear.

Brizon dazedly sat up and stared at the grinning Charlie, who extended the Snitch out towards him. "Uh…thanks."

Tommy glanced at his teammates. "You know, we could probably disguise Charlie to look like Brizon. No one would ever know."

But Tommy need not worry. They did not need Charlie for the game against the Gryffindors the following Saturday, which lasted a short twenty-two minutes. Charlie, Hermione and Harry observed from the stands, flinching at all fourteen missed Quaffles by Ron. Charlie was torn between rooting for her team and rooting for her friend, who was growing more agitated and distracted as the Slytherins' jeers grew louder.

Umbridge happened to be sitting below Charlie in the stands. Whether or not this was intentional Charlie did not know. But she felt her blood boil at the wide smile Umbridge sent her way at one point during the match, and she could detect the gloating undertones.

Ignoring the woman, Charlie locked her eyes on the figures zooming around the pitch. The Gryffindors were not in top form, with Andrew Kirke accidently hitting Alicia with a Bludger. Tommy zoomed right past Arielle Hopson and the startled girl fell off her broom. Ravenclaw took up a solid lead very quickly and the game ended when Gryffindor's Seeker caught the Snitch.

Gryffindor ended up losing by ten points, but it didn't ease the sting of defeat. The Slytherins did not help with their gleeful belting of Weasley Is Our King.

"I feel so bad for him," said Charlie sadly as she and her friends followed the flood of people making their way back to the castle. "I wish I knew what to do."

"I'm afraid this is all up to him," said Hermione matter-of-factly, shooting glowers at a passing trio of cackling Slytherins. "He needs to learn to not let words get to him and just brush it all off. I'm sure he'll snap out of it eventually."

"I don't think we have that much time," quipped Harry.

They could see their redheaded friend a distance in front of them, hunched over and shuffling along. Deciding it would be best to leave him be for the rest of the evening, the three friends bid each other goodbye once they reached the Entrance Hall and went to their respective Common Rooms.

She and Hermione got into their pajamas and climbed into their four-poster beds. Charlie pulled the hangings shut and lied down under her covers, Snowy snuggling beside her. She closed her eyes and spent some time trying to empty her mind, though it was difficult when all she could picture was Umbridge's sickeningly sweet face.

She eventually fell asleep and soon she found herself traversing down the familiar windowless corridor, intent on getting through that black door. When she got closer she could feel excitement building up inside her, almost to the bursting point. She was delighted to see a silver strand of light filtering into the corridor. The door was ajar, she was finally going to be able to open it-

"Mreow!"

Jolting upwards, Charlie let out a soft gasp of breath as her heart pounded madly. She glanced down at her cat, who had let out the noise in her sleep. The raven-haired girl settled back against her pillows and stared at the ceiling, a growing sense of intense disappointment consuming her.

Dang it. So close.

…

One morning near the end of February Charlie found herself being ambushed by five different coloured owls, each of them jostling to land in front of her. "Hold up!" she exclaimed, moving her orange juice so it wouldn't get spilt. "What the heck is going on?"

"Incoming," sang Aurora, grinning as seven more owls landed near the girl.

Hermione grinned broadly and removed a cylindrical package from one of the owls and once she took it the owl flew off. "Charlie, I know what this is!"

Bemused, Charlie took off the paper and unfurled the March edition of The Quibbler. Luna drifted over and sat beside them just as she was examining her smiling face on the cover. Above her face, in bright red letters, was the headline; Charlotte Potter Reveals All: the Return of He Who Must Not Be Named.

"I got Daddy to send you a free copy," said Luna cheerfully. "It's very good, isn't it? It seems that you got some people replying already."

Harry and Ron appeared behind their female friends and noticed the cover of The Quibbler. "Wicked!" exclaimed Ron, reaching out and plucking a letter from one of the owls. He tore it open, read it and wrinkled his nose. "This bloke thinks you're still crazy."

"I expected as much," said Charlie, opening up another letter. She read through it and brightened. "But she believes me!"

"So does this one!" said Harry excitedly, scanning his letter.

"And this one!" added Ron, sorting through the parchment. "Oh, but this one thinks you're off your rocker and should consider therapy."

"I'll take that into consideration," said Charlie with a laugh.

"Miss Potter."

Ron and Harry immediately scattered, flying back to their respective tables. Umbridge paid them little mind and focussed only on the raven-haired girl sitting in front of her. Charlie set her envelopes down and smiled.

"Yes, Professor Umbridge?"

"What is all this?" the woman asked softly, studying the owls and letters with bulging eyes.

"People have sent me letters because they read my interview in The Quibbler," said Charlie casually. "I exercised my right to freedom of speech to tell the journalist of what happened last June."

She tossed the magazine at Umbridge and she caught it. Her fingers tightened on the glossy cover as she stared at it and Charlie could feel all eyes in the Great Hall on them. She was tempted to look over at the High Table but kept her eyes locked coolly on the DADA professor. It wouldn't matter anyway, for Dumbledore had been very good at avoiding any and all contact with her and she doubted he would suddenly feel compelled to change that.

"When did you do this?" said Umbridge, her voice growing higher.

"On the last Hogsmeade trip," answered Charlie.

Shaking with rage, Umbridge said, "You are hereby banned from all Hogsmeade trips. Apparently you have not learned your lesson about the consequences of telling lies. Fifty points from Ravenclaw and another week of detentions for you!"

She stormed off with The Quibbler in hand, the students watching with avid curiosity. Charlie watched her leave before turning to Hermione, extending her first. "Mission accomplished. Thanks."

Grinning, Hermione bumped her knuckles against hers. "No problem."

It was not long before a new decree was put up, this time all over the school. Anyone caught with a copy of The Quibbler would be expelled. Of course, this meant that everyone simply had to read the interview, and though Charlie didn't see a single page of the magazine, students were quoting her to their friends as they walked through the corridors.

Umbridge was on the hunt, stopping students at random in search of any copies of The Quibbler. But the students were not stupid and bewitched the pages containing Charlie's interview to resemble blank parchment or textbook passages to everyone except themselves.

It was not just the students who were discussing Charlie's tell-all exposé. In one of the staff rooms at the end of the school day the teachers were gathered in groups of twos and threes around the furniture, pouring over their own copies of The Quibbler that they had managed to procure. It was the first time they did not need to worry about Umbridge bursting in on them, for she was much too concerned with her Quibbler warpath on the students.

Sprout, Flitwick, McGonagall and Snape were reading through their own copy. "I don't know if I should commend her or scold her," said Flitwick, sounding genuinely torn.

"It isn't that much of a surprise," muttered McGonagall. "She probably felt incredibly frustrated after reading the Minister's pitiful attempt to blame her godfather for the Azkaban breakout. Potter is a girl who, when she feels the need to do something about a situation, will find a way."

"As admirable as it is worrisome," said Flitwick with a sigh. He then smiled. "But I am glad she didn't listen to me. I've been hearing what the students are saying. This school, once filled with doubters and naysayers, is now brimming with believers."

"She has a way for bringing people onto her side, I'll give her that," spoke Sprout.

"Though I'm afraid Umbridge doesn't fall into that category," said Snape flatly. "Her vendetta against the girl will only have grown."

"She's been through enough detentions with that woman. I'm sure she's used to them by now," said Flitwick optimistically.

If he knew of the scars of the back of Charlie's hand, the ones she concealed when in the presence of adults, he would never let his Eagle spend another second in detention with Umbridge again.

…

Though the teachers were unable to speak of the interview during their classes, thanks to Educational Decree Number Twenty-six, Charlie knew that they had read it. McGonagall replaced the fifty points she had lost from Umbridge when she successfully Vanished a tiny kitten, Sprout added an additional twenty points when she handed her a watering can during Herbology and Trelawney gave the most positive premonition of her future she'd ever given since she started taking Divination.

She wasn't sure what to expect from Flitwick during Charms class. She figured she would probably be severely scolded for her rather rash decision. She did not expect the tiny professor to hand her a box of sugar mice with a wink and was extremely relieved and pleased.

After classes she encountered a sheepish Seamus in the corridor. "Listen, I've been saying some not-so-nice things about you," he muttered. "I thought you were a bit mad. But I was wrong, and I shouldn't have bad-mouthed you like I did. I had no right, and I'm a prat for it. I believe you."

Charlie smiled. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad you changed your mind. Thanks. It really does mean a lot."

"I sent a copy to my mam, and I'm sure she'll be convinced," assured Seamus.

"I hope so." Charlie hesitated before asking, "Does this mean you and Ron are good again?"

Seamus grinned. "Oh, yeah. The only reason I was mad at him was because he gave me so much flak for doubting you. He really stood up for you."

Charlie felt her face warm up and she hoped she wasn't blushing. "Yeah, he's a great friend."

"Right. Friend." Seamus winked and took off before Charlie could many any denials.

Sure her face was flaming red, Charlie ducked her head and continued on her way, muttering under her breath.

Draco and his group were furious, evident by the way they sent her death glares every time they passed. Charlie could understand why, for she had named their fathers as being Death Eaters. But she didn't feel terribly sorry, for she was determined to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Perhaps the best news of the day was when Luna excitedly told her that the recent edition of The Quibbler had sold out and more copies were being printed.

Evening rolled around and she and Hermione went to Ravenclaw Tower, exhausted. They climbed into bed and Charlie didn't have time to practice emptying her mind, for she fell asleep the second her head hit the pillow.

She was standing behind a dark velvet chair, long, pale fingers clutching the back of it. The room was dimly lit by a single branch of candles. The soft glow illuminated the person kneeling beyond the chair, dressed in black robes.

"It seems I've been misinformed," she said in a cold voice.

"Please forgive me, Master!" the man gasped.

She moved around the chair and towered above the figure. "It is not you I blame, Rookwood. But are you certain of your facts?"

"Absolutely! I used to work in the Department."

"So why did Avery tell me Bode would be able to remove it?" she asked, her voice soft and dangerous.

"I am not sure, my Lord. But Bode could never have taken it…he knew that, and that's why he fought against Malfoy's Imperius Curse."

"Rookwood, stand up."

The man hastily obeyed and his face was thrust into the light. His pockmarked expression was nervous and terrified.

"You have done well by telling me all of this. All these months of planning seem to have been for nothing, but we shall start over. I will need all the information you can tell me."

"Yes, Master! Thank you!"

"Bring Avery to me."

Rookwood scampered off and she was left alone in the room. She turned around, looking right into the reflection of an old mirror. Her face was whiter than snow, her red eyes seeming to glow eerily in the light, staring out of narrow slits…

"Aagghh!"

She flailed in her bed and shot upwards, sweating madly and panting heavily. Hermione was quick to come to her side, eyes wide with concern. "What have you seen?" she asked in a hushed voice, looking to see if their dorm mates had been disturbed. But they were still sound asleep.

"I was him again," she panted. "I saw him talking to Rookwood…Avery gave misinformation and he was correcting it…Voldemort isn't happy. He has to start a new plan."

"For what?"

Charlie swallowed. "The weapon, whatever it is. I'll tell you the rest tomorrow, when the guys are with us."

Hermione nodded. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Charlie managed a smile. "Sorry to wake you."

"Don't be silly," dismissed Hermione. "You try getting back to sleep."

She climbed back into her bed and Charlie stared at the ceiling, heart pounding madly in her chest and scar burning.

Well. At least now I'm not too tired to practice making my mind blank.

…

The next morning the four friends gathered in the empty courtyard, shivering against the bitter wind. Charlie told them what she had seen and her male friends were unsure how to take the news. "Well, at least it's going to take You-Know-Who longer to get the weapon," said Ron.

"Yeah, but not much longer," replied Charlie. "The first plan took enough time. He's not going to want to dawdle."

"At least we understand why Bode was killed," spoke Hermione. "There must have been defense spells on that door and those are what made Bode lose his ability to speak. Or maybe it happened when he touched the weapon. Whatever it was, it lifted the Imperius Curse and gave him quite the shock. He ended up in St. Mungo's."

"Voldemort couldn't let him make a full recovery," muttered Charlie, her expression darkening. "If he regained his speech, he was going to tell everything. So Voldemort killed him."

"It also wouldn't have been too difficult for Lucius Malfoy to place that curse," growled Ron. "The bloke spends enough time around the Ministry."

"I've been thinking about that," said Charlie, looking off into the distance thoughtfully. "I remember Lucius Malfoy being in that corridor the day of my trial. He was in the Department of Mysteries. I was wondering what he could have possibly doing, and I think I know."

"What?" asked Harry.

"Well, remember when Sturgis Podmore was supposed to escort us to the train but never showed up?"

Her friends nodded, showing they were following along.

"There's a good chance Lucius Malfoy placed the Imperius on him the day of my trial. He was probably guarding the door, using Moody's Invisibility Cloak. Mr. Malfoy must have figured someone was there and cast the spell. When Sturgis was up again for guard duty, he must have taken the chance to steal the weapon for Voldemort, but got caught and sent to Azkaban."

"So that's two failed attempts that we know of," said Harry.

"Maybe three," corrected Ron. "The snake attacked my dad and Charlie immediately alerted Dumbledore. Since You-Know-Who was possessing the snake, he probably got out of there once he heard people. He's trying to keep on the down-low, isn't he?"

"And with Rookwood loose, there's a man with valuable Ministry information in his ranks," muttered Charlie, expression speculative. "He's going to try harder. But I don't have the faintest idea what he might try next."

She knew she should try and forget what she had seen, but it was difficult. She hated not knowing the answers to questions. She also knew that if this was one question she could not solve, then it might spell disaster for the rest of the world. She wished she could tell Sirius, but she would not risk using the Hogwarts mail system. She thought about telling Dumbledore, but immediately dismissed the idea. He didn't want to speak with her, so she would not bother him. She could deal with it herself. She had enough practice in that.

During her Occlumency lesson with Snape she tried not to think about any of the dreams she'd been having. She was quicker at kicking Snape out of her mind with whatever spell came to her lips first and she was relieved when he did not get a chance to see her Voldemort-related dreams.

Hey. Maybe these sessions are helping. If only I can close my mind as well as this when I'm sleeping.

Snape nodded in approval. "It seems you have been practicing."

"Every night," said Charlie with a smile.

At least, almost every night.

"You've progressed well for two months of lessons. But there's still some work to be done." He raised his wand. "Legilimens!"

She got a brief glimpse of a hundred Dementors swooping down towards her. The Dementors quickly faded and she focussed her attention on Snape. She cast the Shield Charm and his wand flew upwards. Suddenly unfamiliar memories were flooding into her mind.

There were a man and woman screaming at each other as small, dark-haired child cowered in a corner…

There was a pretty girl giggling as she and a greasy-haired teenager walked along the Hogwarts courtyard…

Stop!

She was yanked back to reality with a startled gasp, stumbling a few steps and crashing into the back of a desk. She panted slightly, slowly straightening and looking at Snape with nervous emerald eyes. "Sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know that would happen."

"Obviously," Snape said stiffly, looking rather white in the face. He brushed off his robes and added pointedly, "I don't recall ever advising you to use a Shield Charm."

"Right," muttered Charlie. "It was the first thing that I thought of."

"It was effective nonetheless, though I would appreciate it if you didn't use it again during our sessions."

She nodded hard. "Of course."

Phew, still alive. Let's try not to be so intrusive again.

"But perhaps it was beneficial that you performed a Shield Charm to counter me." Snape studied the girl, dark eyes intent. "Do you realize what you did to stop more of my memories from entering your mind?"

"Um…not really."

"You put up a full mental block. That's a rather advanced manoeuver for someone so young. It takes most Occlumens years to achieve such a thing, and most rely on merely suppression and blanking the mind and emotions." Snape crossed his arms. "I'm curious as to how a fifteen-year-old beginner Occlumens accomplished a mental block."

Charlie shrugged. "Just lucky, I guess," she answered, though she had a good idea of how she had done it.

After spending most of the school year blocking off her emotions (and sometimes her telepathic connection) to her brother, she must have automatically done it when she wanted to block Snape's memories from entering her mind.

Snape did not seem convinced by her answer but before he could press further the sound of a woman screaming came from outside the room. Snape glanced up towards the ceiling, brow furrowed. "What in Merlin's name?"

Charlie tilted her head to side as she heard a commotion coming from what seemed to be the Entrance Hall. The woman screamed again and Snape strode out the door, wand held outwards and lesson forgotten. The raven-haired girl hesitated for a beat before scurrying after him. She could hear the screams grow louder as she climbed the stone steps leading from the dungeons.

When she reached the Entrance Hall she had to fight through throngs of students in order to get to the front of the massive crowd. She burst through and discovered that there was a great ring of students and teachers surrounding the perimeter of the Entrance Hall. More students were packed in the doorway of the Great Hall, craning their necks to see what was going on.

Charlie stared at the reason for the ruckus. Professor Trelawney was standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall, wand in one hand and a bottle of cooking sherry in the other. Two trunks were lying haphazardly near her and tears were streaming down her face. Charlie's heart fell.

"You can't do this to me!" she shrieked. "You can't!"

"I can and I did."

Charlie turned her head to see Umbridge standing on the bottom of the marble steps, a wide smile of her toad-like face.

"It's rather foolish of you to not have expected this," continued Umbridge with a sneer. "Your lack of Seer ability aside your pitiful teaching performances during my inspections were more than enough grounds for your sacking."

"But Hogwarts is my home," hiccupped Trelawney. "It has been for sixteen years!"

"And now you're going to have to find a new one," said Umbridge callously. "As of an hour ago, when the Minster of Magic co-signed your Order of Dismissal, this ceased being your home."

Trelawney dropped down onto one of her trunks, sobbing madly. Enjoyment stretched across Umbridge's face and Charlie felt a great rush of intense, burning emotion that previously she had felt towards only one other person.

She felt hatred. Hatred for the woman who was terrorizing her school. Hatred for the woman who was grasping onto what little authority she had to try and gain some semblance of power. Hatred for a woman who cared about no one but herself. She did not kill like Voldemort, but her ideals were pretty much the same.

In that very moment, as she watched her Divination professor break down under Umbridge's gloating and triumphant grin, she vowed that she would oust Umbridge and her tyranny from Hogwarts, no matter what.

Outrage flooded through her, fast and strong and overwhelming. Fingers clenching into fists, she took a few steps forwards but stopped when McGonagall separated from the onlookers and hurried to Trelawney's side. She removed a handkerchief, handed it to the hysterical woman and started rubbing her back soothingly.

"Calm down now Sybill. Take some deep breaths," she instructed.

Umbridge cocked her head to the side. "Do you have something you would like to say?" she asked, an undertone of warning in her voice.

But McGonagall was not intimidated. She looked at Umbridge with an expression of severe dislike. "Oh, I have plenty that I'd like to say," she said icily. She patted Trelawney on the shoulder and said in a softer voice, "You will not have to leave Hogwarts."

Umbridge's eyes flashed. "And on what authority do you have to make such a decision?"

"She doesn't have the authority, but I do."

The students whirled around at the deep voice and bouts of renewed whispering erupted as Dumbledore strode through the great oak front doors, leaving them wide open. Charlie felt a flare of relief and hope bubble in her stomach.

"I am afraid you are mistaken," said Umbridge in a falsely pleasant voice. "The Minister and I have signed this Order of Dismissal." She removed the scroll from her pink handbag and held it out. "The High Inquisitor has the power to inspect, put on probation and fire any professor she feels is not meeting the standards of the Ministry of Magic."

"That is correct," said Dumbledore, equally as pleasant but in a more convincing manner. "But you do not have the authority to banish staff from Hogwarts grounds. That still lies within the Headmaster, which is me. And I wish for Sybill to continue to reside in the castle."

Sybill let a sound that was half a sob and half a laugh. "No, I will leave. I will find fortune outside of Hogwarts."

"You will not," said Dumbledore sharply. "I want you to stay, and you shall. Professor McGonagall, will you please escort Sybill to her chambers?"

"Of course. Come along, Sybill."

Sprout came hurrying out of the crowd and helped get Trelawney to her feet. Flitwick came scurrying after them, waving his wand and levitating her trunks into the air. Together they filed after Umbridge up the marble stairs, the woman standing stock-still.

"What will you do when I hire a new Divination professor who will need her room?" asked Umbridge frostily.

Dumbledore smiled. "No need to worry. I've already found a new Divination professor and he prefers to have a room on the ground floor."

"You found a new Divination professor?" spluttered Umbridge, looking outraged. "Educational Decree Number Twenty-two-"

"Ah, yes. The Ministry has the right to appoint a new professor if the Headmaster has not found a suitable candidate. Which I have. I will be happy to introduce you."

There was the sound of hooves clopping against the ground, approaching the front doors. Students scattered to make room for the new arrival. Through the misty night came a familiar figure to Charlie. A centaur with blue eyes, white-blonde hair and a palomino body entered the Entrance Hall.

"It's my pleasure to introduce Firenze," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "I am sure you will find him more than suitable for the position."

Umbridge could only gawk, her expression a mixture of horror and utter disbelief.

"Firenze, Professor Snape will help get you settled."

Snape stepped from the crowd and towards the centaur, who was looking around with a quiet curiosity and serenity. The Potions professor shot Dumbledore a slight, unreadable look before leading Firenze away.

"That's enough excitement for one night, now," Dumbledore directed towards the baffled and intrigued students. "Off with you, now."

The students quickly streamed in various directions. Some went back into the Great Hall for dinner while others poured towards the corridors. Charlie quickly pushed her way through the multitude of students, attempting to reach the departing Dumbledore.

"Professor! Professor Dumbledore!"

Her voice rose above the din but he still did not stop. He soon disappeared up a flight of stairs, leaving Charlie to stumble to a stop, buffeted side to side by her peers. She stared the direction where he had gone and she felt a flare of annoyance, hurt and ire. This was probably the most deliberate brush-off he had given yet, and his message was clear.

Fine, she thought bitterly. I don't need you.

As she stood stewing in negative emotions towards the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Umbridge finally snapped out of her thunderstruck state. Her eyes immediately locked on the Girl-Who-Lived. With no one else for her to take out her frustration and fury, she barked, "Potter! You're supposed to be in detention! My office, now!"

Though her detention did not start for another hour, Charlie knew this was not a moment to argue. She took off running in the direction of the foul woman's office, a scowl crossing her pale face. Despite her current estrangement from the Hogwarts Headmaster she couldn't help but wish that he would be willing to assist her like he was willing to assist everyone else within the school, and a very vitriolic thought crossed through her mind.

Thanks for the help, Dumbledore. Thanks for the freaking help.