AN: Merry Christmas to the majority of my audience. Most of you guys are American and from my time as an exchange student, I remember you guys usually celebrate on the 25th.
Enjoy the Chapter!
The recognizable sections belong to JKR
Chapter 68
March 30th, 1996
"Oh really?" Fudge asked.
"Well — it's just that you seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to — what is the phrase? 'Come quietly' I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course — but what a waste of time, and frankly, I can think of a whole host of things I would rather be doing."
Umbridge's face was growing steadily redder, she looked as though she was being filled with boiling water. Fudge stared at Dumbledore with a very silly expression on his face, as though he had just been stunned by a sudden blow and could not quite believe it had happened.
He made a small choking noise and then looked around at his two Aurors. The latter gave Fudge a reassuring nod and moved forward a little, away from the wall. Harry saw his hand drift, almost casually, toward his pocket.
Harry tightened the grip on his own wand. At the end of the day, Dumbledore was still an ally and Harry decided that if it came to a fight, he would support him.
"Don't be silly, Dawlish," said Dumbledore kindly. "I'm sure you are an excellent Auror, I seem to remember that you achieved 'Outstanding' in all your N.E.W.T.s, but if you attempt to — er — 'bring me in' by force, I will have to hurt you."
The Auror blinked, looking rather foolish. He looked toward Fudge again, but this time seemed to be hoping for a clue as to what to do next.
"So," sneered Fudge, recovering himself, "you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores, and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?"
"Merlin's beard, no," said Dumbledore, smiling. "Not unless you are foolish enough to force me to."
"He will not be single-handed!" said Professor McGonagall loudly, plunging her hand inside her robes.
"Oh yes he will, Minerva!" said Dumbledore sharply. "Hogwarts needs you!"
Enough of this rubbish!" said Fudge, pulling out his own wand. "Dawlish! Shacklebolt! Take him!"
A streak of silver light flashed around the room. There was a bang like a gunshot, and the floor trembled. Harry saw how Dawlish fell to the first attack from Dumbledore. The headmaster had acted efficiently and quickly, eliminating the most dangerous opponent first.
Beside him, Harry felt a stunner and watched as McGonagall caught an unconscious Edgecomb. Harry decided that it was time to go to work. He would do his best to help the outnumbered headmaster.
Turning his attention to Umbridge, Harry cast a quick leg locker, making the woman stumble and lose balance. Dumbledore, who had been shielding from the incoming spells by Umbridge, Fudge, and Shaklebolt, used the opportunity.
His wand movement was minimalistic, but it radiated power. Harry was reminded of the few times he had actually watched the headmaster perform significant amounts of magic, for example during their lessons on advanced animation charms.
The headmaster's spells tore through Umbridge's weak shield and struck her right in the middle of the chest. She was out instantly. Harry watched as Shacklebolt did his best to let the fight seem realistic. Obviously, he was holding back... As an order member, he was only acting his part to not make the Minister suspicious.
Talking about the minister... Fudge had his back turned towards Harry. Usually, he disliked hitting people in the back, but he could not let this opportunity pass. With a flick of his wrist, he cast a precise severing charm through the man's robes, separating his belt. Fudge's trousers dropped down to his knees, revealing pale fat legs and making him stumble.
Again, Dumbledore finished the job by disarming the man and putting him in an unconscious state. While Shacklebolt instantly lowered his wand, as soon as Fudge was out, Harry quickly turned back to the unconscious fat toad they lay ahead of him. He only had a split second for what he planned on doing.
"Legilimens!" Harry whispered, just low enough so that McGonagall beside him could not hear him.
He did not have enough time to scan larger periods of time, so instead, he simply focused on the most dominant thoughts in her mind. He saw a glimpse of his school file, laying on her desk and also what looked like a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point. The last thing he saw were multiple students from lower years, leaving her office holding their hands if Harry was not mistaken.
What the hell was that about? Had Umbridge hurt those students? How come no one had reported that to him yet? He quickly exited the man's mind, when he felt movement around him.
"Are you all right, sir?" He asked Dumbledore, as he saw the headmaster approach him.
Dumbledore chuckled and gestured behind him: His desk had been overturned, all of the spindle tables had been knocked to the floor, their silver instruments in pieces. Fudge, Umbridge, Shacklebolt, and Dawlish lay motionless on the floor. Fawkes the phoenix soared in wide circles above them, singing softly.
"Unfortunately, I had to hex Kingsley too, or it would have looked very suspicious," said Dumbledore in a low voice. "A brilliant idea, Harry, by the way. I am glad I caught on with your plan to modify Miss Edgecombe's memory in time. However, I don't think it was wise for you to interfere in our confrontation. Let us hope that none of them will remember anything."
"It's unfortunate that you even have to leave, sir," Harry replied
Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Cornelius left me no choice. Now, they will all awake very soon and it will be best if they do not know that we had time to communicate — you must act as though no time has passed, as though they were merely knocked to the ground, they will not remember —"
"Where will you go, Albus?" whispered Professor McGonagall. "Grimmauld Place?"
"Oh no," said Dumbledore with a grim smile. "I am not leaving to go into hiding. Fudge will soon wish he'd never dislodged me from Hogwarts, I promise you..."
"Something is going on with Umbridge, sir... The woman has something evil planned. I just know it...," Harry decided to share his suspicion.
"Then you will do your best to protect the students, Harry. Do not let any harm come to them. Please..." Dumbledore almost pleaded.
"I promise," Harry nodded.
Dawlish was stirring. Fawkes circled the office and swooped low over him. Dumbledore raised his hand and grasped the phoenix's long golden tail. There was a flash of fire and the pair of them had gone.
"Where is he?" yelled Fudge, pushing himself up from the ground. "Where is he?"
"I don't know!" shouted Kingsley, also leaping to his feet.
"Well, he can't have Disapparated!" cried Umbridge. "You can't inside the school —"
"The stairs!" cried Dawlish, and he flung himself upon the door, wrenched it open, and disappeared, followed closely by Kingsley and Umbridge. Fudge hesitated as he tried his best to pull up his pants and fix his belt. Then got to his feet slowly and brushed the dust from his front. There was a long and painful silence.
"Well, Minerva," said Fudge nastily, straightening his torn shirt sleeve, "I'm afraid this is the end of your friend Dumbledore."
"You think so, do you?" said Professor McGonagall scornfully. Fudge seemed not to hear her. He was looking around at the wrecked office. A few of the portraits hissed at him; one or two even made rude hand gestures.
"You'd better get those two off to bed," said Fudge, looking back at Professor McGonagall with a dismissive nod toward Harry and Marietta. She said nothing, but marched Harry and Marietta to the door. As it swung closed behind them, Harry heard Phineas Nigellus's voice. "You know, Minister, I disagree with Dumbledore on many counts . . . but you cannot deny he's got style. . . ."
March 31th, 1996
— by order of—
The Ministry of Magic
Dolores Jane Umbridge
(High Inquisitor)
has replaced Albus Dumbledore as Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-eight.
Signed:
Cornelius Oswald Fudge
minister of magic
The notices had gone up all over the school overnight, but they did not explain how every single person within the castle seemed to know that Dumbledore had overcome two Aurors, the High Inquisitor, the Minister of Magic, and his Junior Assistant to escape.
No matter where Harry went within the castle next day, the sole topic of conversation was Dumbledore's flight, and though some of the details might have gone awry in the retelling (Harry overheard one second-year girl assuring another that Fudge was now lying in St. Mungo's with a pumpkin for a head), it was surprising how accurate the rest of their information was.
Everybody seemed aware, for instance, that Harry and Edgecomb were the only students to have witnessed the scene in Dumbledore's office, and as Edgecomb was now in the hospital wing, Harry found himself besieged with requests to give a firsthand account wherever he went.
"You guys have gotten me into enough trouble with your little group already. You better leave me alone, Macmillan, and mind your own business." Harry hissed as he waited for the doors to the Great Hall to open for breakfast. For some reason, it seemed to start later than usual today.
"Dumbledore will be back before long," Harry heard Ernie Macmillan say confidently.
"They couldn't keep him away in our second year and they won't be able to this time. The Fat Friar told me . . ." He dropped his voice conspiratorially so that Granger, Weasley, and Longbottom had to lean closer to him to hear, ". . . that Umbridge tried to get back into his office last night after they'd searched the castle and grounds for him. Couldn't get past the gargoyle. The Head's office has sealed itself against her."
Macmillan smirked. "Apparently she had a right little tantrum. . . ."
"Oh, I expect she really fancied herself sitting up there in the Head's office," said Granger viciously. "Lording it over all the other teachers, the stupid puffed-up, power-crazy old —"
"Now, do you really want to finish that sentence, Granger?" Draco Malfoy had walked up to them, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. His pale, pointed face was alight with malice.
"Afraid I'm going to have to dock a few points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff," he drawled: "And since Potter is here, Ravenclaw as well."
"It's only teachers that can dock points from other Houses, Malfoy," said Macmillan at once.
"I know prefects can't dock points, Macmillan" sneered Malfoy; Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. "But members of the Inquisitorial Squad —"
"The what?" said Granger sharply.
"The Inquisitorial Squad, Granger," said Malfoy, pointing toward a tiny silver I upon his robes just beneath his prefect's badge. "A select group of students who are supportive of the Ministry of Magic, hand-picked by Professor Umbridge. Anyway, members of the Inquisitorial Squad do have the power to dock points..."
"So, Granger, I'll have five from you for being rude about our new headmistress. . . . Macmillan, five for contradicting me. . . Weasley, your shirt's untucked, so I'll have another five for that. . . . Oh yeah, I forgot, you're a Mudblood, Granger, so ten for that. . . ."
"Also, 20 because I don't like you, Potter." Malfoy sneered.
Harry snorted: "You think I care about some stupid house points, Malfoy? There is literally nothing you can do that would actually bother me. As I said yesterday, right now, you are kissing Umbridge's fat ass. Soon it might be Voldemort's..."
The fifth-years around him gasped. Harry ignored them and continued: "But let me make one thing very clear for you... If I catch you abusing your power in other ways... ways that do more harm than docking some boring house points, then I will hurt you... a lot..."
"Are you threatening me, Potter?" Malfoy sneered, but he did not look so comfortable anymore. Even Crabe and Goyle had taken a few steps backward. They might be almost Harry's height, but while Harry was strong and imposing, they simply looked fat.
"Yes, Malfoy... I am." Harry replied, letting his eyes flash a bright emerald green for a split second.
"The headmistress will hear about this." Malfoy gulped, slowly retreating: "And 20 more points from Ravenclaw for threatening a member of the Inquisitorial Squad."
"Go run right to her, Malfoy." Harry smiled and waved at him.
"He just took 40 points from you, even though you are a Prefect and you don't even care?" Macmillian asked baffled.
"Use that Hufflepuff brain to think for a second, MacMillan." Harry rolled his eyes: "Why the fuck would I care about house points? I have a dark Lord out there that wants to kill me. Do you think I can persuade him to drop his endeavors by showing how many points I earned for my house? Do you think my academic results are somehow influenced by them? Are my mind or magical powers influenced by them?"
When Macmillan shook his head, Harry continued. "I don't give a shit about points because they do not matter as soon as we are out of here."
"But the more points you get the more likely is a professor to write you a recommendation." Granger huffed.
Harry laughed: "I am the most talented student this school has seen since Tom Riddle... This is not be boasting... it's simply a fact. I don't need a recommendation from any professors. I could drop out right now and get by just fine even without working..."
"Who is Tom Riddle?" Granger asked confusion.
"Tom Riddle received an award for special services to the school in June 1943," Weasley spoke up out of nowhere.
"How the hell do you know that?" Longbottom asked him.
"Filch made me clean his stupid trophy for perhaps an hour, back in the second year..." Weasley replied with a shrug.
"Nice memory, Weasley." Harry nodded, slightly impressed: "You sister might be able to tell you even more about him."
With that, Harry walked through the doors of the Great Hall, which had finally opened.
April 2nd, 1996
One word perfectly described Umbridge's first week as the headmistress: Struggle...
It seemed as if everyone in the castle, besides her few trustworthy students from the Inquisitorial Squad, were against her. Pranking during classes, in the hallways and even the Great Hall was at an all-time high.
Especially the twins used the period for extensive marketing and research purposes on their latest products, which seemed to be some sort of magical fireworks. Harry was deeply impressed by them. He was still certain, that his investments in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes will be very profitable.
But the Weasley twins were not alone in their endeavors. The entire castle was rebelling against Umbridge's new regime. The rebellious atmosphere only dropped when the NEWT and OWL exams drew closer.
Of course, Harry did not care much. He had sat the rest of OWLs in January already. The rest of the fifth year, however, was very nervous and anxious.
As though to underline the importance of their upcoming examinations, a batch of pamphlets, leaflets, and notices concerning various Wizarding careers appeared on the tables in Ravenclaw Tower shortly before the end of the holidays, along with yet another notice on the board, which read:
CAREER ADVICE
All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the Summer Term, in which they will be given the opportunity to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below.
Well... that might be interesting... Harry looked down the list and found that he was expected in Professor Flitwick's office at half-past two on Monday, which would mean missing most of Potions.
Not that he cared too much... Thanks to the Halfblood Prince, he was the best brewer in the class. Snape had been even more suspicious, but since Harry did not leave any hints, the overgrown bat could not do anything about it.
Therefore, Harry found himself knocking on Flitwick's door at exactly half-past two.
"Enter." Came from the inside and Harry opened the door to the office in which he had spent countless hours with Flitwick practicing for his dueling tournaments.
Harry looked around. Professor Umbridge was sitting there, a clipboard on her knee, a fussy little pie-frill around her neck, and a small, horribly smug smile on her face.
"Sit down, Potter," said Professor McGonagall tersely. Harry raised an eyebrow, why was he having his career advice talk with not only one but three professors?
Harry sat down with his back to Umbridge and ignored the scratching of her quill on her clipboard. However, he was still confused by her presence:
"Professors, may I ask why you joined a talk that is supposed to take place between myself and my head of House?" Harry asked curiously.
"You are in no position to question internal processes at Hogwarts, Potter!" Umbridge hissed from behind him.
Harry rolled his eyes just as McGonagall spoke up: "I decided to join Filius today because we have a joined proposition for you, Mr. Potter. The... headmistress..." McGonagall shot Umbridge an annoyed look: "... felt it was necessary to also attend this meeting. We were not told why."
Harry snorted. The displeasure in his Transfigurations professor's voice was audible. Flitwick also seemed very annoyed at her interference.
"Very well," Harry grinned: "If our esteemed headmistress would like to attend, then who are we to deny her that wish. I suggest we get started."
"Well, Potter, this meeting is usually to talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue into sixth and seventh years," said Flitwick.
"As you have already completed your OWLs..." Umbridge huffed in the background. "... and managed to achieve exemplary results, many doors stand open to you. However, let us first start with what classes you would like to continue taking next year."
Harry nodded: "I decided to continue all my current classes with the exemption of Defense Against the Dark arts."
He noticed how the scribbling on parchment stopped momentarily and grinned: "I find myself very disappointed with the NEWT curriculum. There are simply other subjects I am much interested in now. I could always just complete my NEWT in Defense by doing some self-study."
At this moment Professor Umbridge gave a very tiny cough, as though she was trying to see how quietly she could do it. Harry ignored her.
"What about classes like Herbology and Care for Magical Creatures?" Flitwick asked.
"They are not too challenging and some aspects of the curriculum are actually interesting and worth learning." Harry put special emphasis on the last word: "I will most likely continue them in my six years."
Flitwick and McGonagall exchanged a brief glance.
"We might come back to that later... However, have you had any thoughts about what you would like to do after you leave Hogwarts?" Professor McGonagall prompted Harry
"Well, yes... now that you ask... I'd like to survive, professor." Harry replied. There was not a trace of sarcasm in his voice.
McGonagall quickly hid her shock and the small slip in her demeanor at her student's honesty: "Har... Mr. Potter, I am confident that you will live a long a happy life. My question was more related to the topic of today's meeting."
Harry thought for a second: "With results like mine, I could pretty much choose any path I want." He ignored Umbridge clearing her throat: "However, the only career I would find somewhat interesting might be as an Unspeakable."
Flitwick squeaked happily and he gave Harry a bright smile: "Your mother was planning on starting as an Unspeakable after finishing her charm mastery with me."
"You'd need top grades for that," said Professor McGonagall, extracting a small, dark leaflet from under the mass on the desk and opening it. "They ask for a minimum of seven N.E.W.T.s, and nothing under 'Exceeds Expectations' grade, I see."
"Then you would be required to undergo a stringent series of character, mentality, and aptitude tests. It's a very difficult career path, Potter; they only take the best. In fact, I don't think anybody has been taken on in the last fifteen years... Not since..." She frowned.
"Augustus Rookwood" Harry finished for her: "Yes... I know about him. I understand how the department might be a bit careful after that."
"Yes... Well, you'll want to know which subjects you ought to take, I suppose?" she went on, talking a little more loudly than before.
"Well, it's pretty obvious, is it not?" said Harry. "Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Transfiguration, Charms and Potions, I suppose? What would be the seventh NEWT?"
"You are correct Potter," said Flitwick. "As for the last NEWT —"
Professor Umbridge gave another cough, a little more audible this time. Professor Flitwick closed his eyes for a moment, opened them again, and continued as though nothing had happened.
"As for the last NEWT, I would advise to either complete a NEWT in Alchemy or simply continue one of the two subjects we previously talked about. However, you could also visit an educational institution on the continent. There are many interesting fields of study, including Enchanting and the Study of Mind, or Time-Magic. Perhaps the Study of Grey and Dark Magic might be interesting as well. Students of a certain caliber have always been drawn to it and in a safe environment..."
Professor Umbridge gave her most pronounced cough yet.
"May I offer you a cough drop, Dolores?" Professor Flitwick asked curtly, without looking at Professor Umbridge.
"Oh no, thank you very much," said Umbridge, with that simpering laugh Harry hated so much. "I just wondered whether I could make the teensiest interruption, Filius?"
"I daresay you'll find you can," said Professor Flitwick through tightly gritted teeth.
"I was just wondering whether Mr. Potter has quite the temperament for an Unspeakable?" said Professor Umbridge sweetly.
"Were you?" said Professor Flitwick haughtily. "Well, Potter," he continued, as though there had been no interruption, "You have perfect marks in all your classes, surprisingly, including potions."
McGonagall shot Harry a suspicious look.
"Me and Professor Snape simply get along a lot better, nowadays." Harry grinned.
Flitwick chuckled: "If you are serious in this ambition, I would advise you to look into more complex branches of magic, in addition, mine and Minerva's proposal might come in handy — are you quite sure you wouldn't like a cough drop, Dolores?"
"Oh, no need, thank you, Filius," simpered Professor Umbridge, who had just coughed her loudest yet. " However, I am afraid Mr. Potter is ill-advised..."
"And how so? I was the under 18 dueling champions after I turned 14. I won the Triwizard tournament and even invented my own spell to permanently destroy a dementor. Please explain to me why you consider it ill-advised for me to take up a career path that involves confrontations with the Dark Arts?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, finally turning towards the woman.
Umbridge ignored him and turned back to McGonagall and Flitwick: "You mentioned that the boy will need a NEWT in Defense Against the Dark Arts... You also suggested that he could achieve that via self-study..."
A disgusting giggle left her lips: "I was just concerned that you might not have Potter's most recent Defense Against the Dark Arts marks in front of you. I'm quite sure I slipped in a note . . ."
"What, this thing?" said Flitwick in a tone of revulsion, as he pulled a sheet of pink parchment from between the leaves of Harry's folder. He glanced down it, his eyebrows slightly raised, then placed it back into the folder without comment.
"Yes, as I was saying, Potter, Professor Lupin thought you showed a pronounced aptitude for the subject, and of course, there is the fact... —"
"Did you not understand my note, Filius?" asked Professor Umbridge in honeyed tones, quite forgetting to cough.
"Of course I understood it," said Professor Flitwick, his teeth clenched so tightly that the words came out a little muffled.
"Well, then, I am confused. . . . I'm afraid I don't quite understand how you can give Mr. Potter false hope that —"
"False hope?" repeated Professor McGonagall this time, still refusing to look round at Professor Umbridge. "Potter has been the best student in Defense for over four years in a row. He has consistently achieved the highest marks in all his Defense Against the Dark Arts tests —"
"I'm terribly sorry to have to contradict you, Minerva, but as you will see from my note, Potter has been achieving very poor results in his classes with me —"
Harry laughed: "We have not had a single practical lesson under you, so far. The only thing you made us do, was to answer a pop quiz on one of the chapters. After you already falsified evidence against me, I do not trust you to evaluate any of my quizzes."
"I should have made my meaning plainer," said Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement with what Harry had said. She turned at last to look Umbridge directly in the eyes. "He has achieved high marks in all Defense Against the Dark Arts tests set by a competent teacher."
Harry could not help but snort at this and chuckled. His own verbal disputes with Umbridge were hilarious for the rest of the school already, but with Mcgonall it was a different story.
Professor Umbridge's smile vanished as suddenly as a lightbulb blowing. She sat back in her chair, turned a sheet on her clipboard, and began scribbling very fast indeed, her bulging eyes rolling from side to side. Professor McGonagall turned back to Harry, her thin nostrils flared, her eyes burning.
"Any questions, Potter?"
"Yes," said Harry. "What sort of character, mentality, and aptitude tests does the Department require?"
"Well, you'll need to demonstrate your ability to hold on to your knowledge and insights into the Department. The Unspeakables work on the deepest secrets and mysteries of magic itself. There cannot be any leaks to the outside." McGonagall stated before Flitwick picked up where she had left:
"Any member of the Department is required to withstand mind-altering influences from the outside, including Veritaserum, Legilemency, or the Imperius curse. However, the latter does not seem to be a problem for you, from what I have heard."
Harry smirked, remembering the fake Moody casting the curse on him and easily throwing it off after only a short amount of time.
"Also, perseverance and dedication, because the Unspeakable training takes a further five years, not to mention very high skills in practical Defense, Charms, and Transfiguration, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. However, you do seem like a very strong candidate for the field, especially with your experience in dueling, not to mention your exemplary performance in the tasks of the Triwizard Tournament —"
"I think you'll also find," said Umbridge, her voice very cold now, "that the Ministry looks into the records of those applying to be Unspeakables. Their criminal records."
"— In addition, Minerva and I would like to offer you —"
"— which means that this boy has as much chance of becoming an Unspeakable as Dumbledore has of ever returning to this school."
"A very good chance, then," said Professor McGonagall.
"Potter has a criminal record," said Umbridge loudly.
"Potter has been cleared of all charges," said Professor McGonagall, even more loudly.
Professor Umbridge stood up. She was so short that this did not make a great deal of difference, but her fussy, simpering demeanor had given place to a hard fury that made her broad, flabby face look oddly sinister.
"Potter has no chance whatsoever of becoming an Unspeakable!"
Professor McGonagall got to her feet too, and in her case, this was a much more impressive move. She towered over Professor Umbridge.
"Potter," she said in ringing tones, "Professor Flitwick and I hereby offer you the position as an apprentice for charms and transfiguration mastery under us."
Flitwick nodded happily: "With a dual mastery, you will make a very interesting and promising candidate for the Department."
Harry was very surprised at the opportunity offered to him. As far as he knew, Flitwick and McGonagall have not accepted apprentices ever since his parents left the school. However, before he could express his gratitude, Umbridge spoke up, once more.
"The Minister of Magic will never employ Harry Potter! And for as long as I am Headmistress, Potter will not be taken as an apprentice at this school!" said Umbridge, her voice rising furiously.
"There may well be a new Minister of Magic by the time Potter is ready to join! And perhaps a new headmaster as well," shouted Professor McGonagall.
"Aha!" shrieked Professor Umbridge, pointing a stubby finger at McGonagall. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Of course! That's what you want, isn't it, Minerva McGonagall? You want Cornelius Fudge replaced by Albus Dumbledore! You think you'll be where I am, don't you, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister and headmistress to boot!"
"You are raving," said Professor Flitwick, superbly disdainful. "Potter, that concludes our career consultation. We will have another private meeting over the next few days to discuss the details for your apprenticeship, should you decide to accept"
Harry nodded his understanding and swung his bag over his shoulder. With a satisfying smirk at a fuming Umbridge, he slowly walked out of the office. He could hear her and Professor McGonagall continuing to shout at each other all the way back along the corridor.
He was still surprised by the unexpected offer. Getting a dual mastery in two subjects would be a huge opportunity, but with Voldemort out there, was this really the best plan of action?