Author's Note: I'm so sorry I'm really busy this year, and when I finally got a break three months ago someone accidentally gave me a concussion… which definitely wasn't conducive to writing. I'll try to update as much as possible in these two weeks, and rest assured I have seen all your requests, but this story has to go on hiatus until the first week of December.

All the review reply links are now "outdated", so especially for those of you who disabled your PM feature, I can't reply personally to your review unfortunately, but thanks a lot for reviewing!

For Princess Schatje Dreamer, who wanted to see Umbridge get a taste of her own medicine. And Will0Whisper, who asked for green hair. And for all of you who wanted to see Hufflepuffs.

Take 12

"Let's stay away from him."

"We'll be good now, I promise!"

"Please don't send us to him!"

"Can it be?"

"What happened?"

"Maybe Mrs Norris is secretly a cat Animagus who decided to return to human form after realising that she was in love with Filch, with whom she had lived the past twelve years."

Everybody stared at the last speaker, Ginny Weasley.

The students were curious and terrified. And they had a right to be.

Hogwarts, beware.

Argus Filch was over the moon.

And he favoured no students.

… … … … … … …

The fifth-year Hufflepuff boys crowded around one of their own, shielding him protectively from the rest of the world. The fifth-year girls stood around awkwardly, eyes darting towards the door as though expecting someone to burst into the dormitory at any moment.

Wayne Hopkins, still hiccupping from sobs, lay on his bed while Ernie gently rubbed Murtlap essence into his bare back, hating every shudder that came from the body underneath his hands even as he tried to put the minimum amount of pressure possible on the angry red welts.

"Eton would never have allowed this," Justin muttered vindictively. For so long he had struggled, performing to the best of his ability, and for what? A teacher who dishonoured the very mantle she had take upon?

Justin was a perfect gentleman, but enough was enough.

Ernie turned his head, eyes glittering, and Justin knew his best friend felt the same way.

Nobody laid a hand on a Hufflepuff.

… … … … … … …

Screams echoed around the dungeons.

Mindful of the last time he had heard that particular timbre, Snape stalked into his office to reinforce the Unbreakable Charms on his precious glass jars. In the few seconds he left his class unattended…

Neville's cauldron exploded. Draco gained a lot more feathers and a lot less limbs, courtesy of a Canary Cream – vanilla version. Hermione received a new hairdo. Ron became even more gangly than he used to be, with four additional appendages sticking out of his torso.

"Gives a whole new meaning to 'spiderman'," Dean muttered.

It was sheer pandemonium.

Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on who you asked – a wailing Umbridge chose that exact moment to open the door to the potions classroom – and was promptly hit in the face by a stray spell.

Or maybe just a bit more than one. Several stray spells, as a matter of fact.

Or maybe all the students suddenly missed their intended aim and somehow all the spells hit a single target.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" Snape thundered as he strode out of his office.

Silence.

"Promoting inter-house spellwork cooperation, sir," Harry informed him after a moment.

Snape spared a glance for the dangerously wobbling, snivelling mess of feathers and tar.

"Go ahead."

A moment later, it became very evident why Umbridge was caterwauling around the dungeons.

The potions classroom door slammed open again. Snape, about to tell off whoever who dared to trespassed on his territory with such uncouth attitudes, snapped his mouth shut.

A disembodied hand floated calmly into the classroom, nearing the heap that began frothing at the mouth at the sight, blubbering and looking even more disgustingly pathetic than before, if indeed such a thing was possible.

The students gave the hand – and especially the whip adorned with long, wicked sharp spikes in its grasp – a wide berth. Yet their desire to see what was happening warred with their sense of self-preservation, so unconsciously they lined up in two rows, leaving an aisle for the disembodied hand to float down but also giving themselves the best view.

The whip cracked the air threateningly.

Neville jumped.

Oodles of Miserable Goo, or OMG for short, wobbled.

When the hand and the whip finally approached within striking distance of Umbridge, they stopped moving. For a moment both simply hovered in place.

The Gryffindors and Slytherins were unable to tear their eyes away. It was like watching the Hogwarts Express crash. Horrifying, but fascinating.

Glowing words appeared on the ground.

"You. Will. Never. Touch. Us. Again."

"Treason! Blasphemy! I will expel you!" Umbridge finally managed to get her voice to work again.

"Filch. Will. Never. Touch. Another. Student."

"How dare you!" Umbridge shrieked in newfound decibels. Behind her, the nearest cauldron shook alarmingly. Giving the cauldron a deeply disturbed look, the Gryffindors around it moved away, hands gripping their wands.

"Or. Else."

Umbridge's voice had gone completely shrill in her indignation; she even forgot to be frightened. "Heresy!"

The sudden sound of splintering.

Several voices cried out at once, "Protego!"

Broken cauldron pieces slammed into hastily-erected shields, crashing onto the floor. Some of the incomplete potion splattered onto the shields as well, but most of it landed on the one person who did not think of raising her wand.

"Maybe she's secretly a Squib," Ron muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Harry and Hermione. "That would explain why she's so friendly with Filch, and why she never touches her wand."

"Not to mention her ridiculous reliance on books that contradict even her own precious Ministry-endorsed books," Hermione huffed.

Ron turned wide eyes on Harry. "Did Hermione… just insult a book?"

Another ear-splitting scream turned their attention back to the main spectacle.

Harry blinked.

The disembodied hand was still floating in mid-air, the whip half-buried in the ground. As it drew itself slowly out of the flagstones, Harry's eyes narrowed. There was no mark left behind. In fact, the flagstones were unblemished, for all that a supposed whip had just embedded itself in the ground.

Umbridge drew herself up from the ground, trying to look important even with potion dripping from her clothes and shivers racking her body.

Which was entirely green. A hideous, slimy neon green.

Privately, Harry thought the colour suited her better. Whoever heard of a pink toad?

"Severus! Severus, you must help me," Umbridge implored, probably the only reason why she had come running to the dungeons in the first place.

But Snape was no longer looking at her. Instead, he had pulled out a notebook from somewhere and was frantically scribbling in it, mumbling to himself about the properties of skin and what could be the cause of its reaction with the potion. Then he glanced up cursorily, noticed that her hair was the same shade of green, and scratched out a few lines while muttering about the similarities between hair and skin.

Sniffing, Umbridge shakily drew out a frilly pink handkerchief from her pocket, and blew her nose loudly.

"You're pathetic," the snot sneered.

Umbridge dropped the handkerchief in horror and shock.

As she turned to run, she tripped over the puddle of potion she had been standing in, her voluminous skirt billowing upwards and proving once and for all to anyone unlucky enough to be standing behind her, that every single inch of her skin had now turned that shade of green. And that she truly adored pink, frilly items.

Pansy Parkinson whimpered and clawed at her eyes as though burnt.

… … … … … … …

Outside the half-closed door, Justin and Ernie dispelled the illusion and hastily ducked behind the nearest tapestry just as the door burst fully open and a hysterical Umbridge tore out of the room.

Umbridge, beware.

Hogwarts looked after their own.