Seen and Unforeseen
Luna said vaguely that she didn't know how soon Skeeter's interview with Arthur (which would seem to have been written by some anonymous writer who has a grudge against Fudge and the Ministry, by Arthur's request) would appear in The Quibbler, that her father expected a nice long article on recent sightings of Crumple Horned Snorkacks.
" - and of course, that'll be a very important story, so Arthur's might have to wait for the following issue." She said.
It proved to be a horrible experience for Arthur to talk about the night that Voldemort returned, the only way he got through was by Mike holding his hand and giving him the support needed to keep going. Skeeter pressed him for every little detail and he gave her every single thing that he remembered, knowing that this would be his chance to tell everyone the truth.
Naturally, he wondered how people would react to the story. He knew that for some, it would only confirm their belief that he's insane, mainly because it would appear alongside such garbage about Crumple Horned Snorkacks. But the breakout of Bellatrix Lestrange and her fellow Death Eaters gave Arthur the desire to do something about it, regardless of whether it worked or not.
Arthur implored everyone to act like it was something written by someone who wanted to get back at the Ministry, which they agreed, even though they were excited about how Umbridge would react to this.
Then on the following Monday, he and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team had their latest practice session. Arthur and David found themselves growing more tense since they have the upcoming match against Hufflepuff on Saturday. If they lost, they might end up killing Zacharias Smith, knowing how intolerable he'll be.
Once done with that, they went up the common room and busied themselves with their piles of homework with Chrys and Mike.
The match against Hufflepuff on Saturday was pretty tense and short, only lasting twenty two minutes.
David missed some goals, but he still managed to save the rest, resulting in the end of the match with Gryffindor winning by just ten points. Arthur was able to grab the Snitch from right under Hufflepuff Seeker's Summerby's nose, making the final score two hundred and fifty vs two hundred and forty.
"Nice catch." Mike told Arthur in a corner of the common room where he snuck a quick kiss on the lips, while the atmosphere was energetic.
"Well, it turned out the Snitch wasn't as fast as it should be and Summerby had a cold. He just kept sneezing and closing his eyes at the wrong moment." Arthur reminded him.
Arthur looked over at David, who sat with Chrys, the twins and Angelina. He had to endure the Slytherins attempting the 'Merlon is our King' again, but it had no effect, even if they're the favourites to win the Quidditch Cup at the moment.
When Arthur went to sleep, despite calming himself and blanking any emotions, he ended up dreaming about the door to the Department of Mysteries.
He found himself walking towards it with a sense of mounting excitement. He also had the strangest feeling that this time he'll be lucky and actually open the door. He was feet from it and with a leap of excitement, he saw a glowing strip of faint blue light down the right hand side… the door was ajar… he stretched his hand out to push it wide and -
A loud, rasping snore woke Arthur up abruptly, he looked to see it was from Neville. Arthur was frustrated, he did as Snape said, yet he still dreamed of that bloody door and was the closest to seeing what was on the other side.
They entered the Great Hall for breakfast the same moment that the post owls arrived the following Monday morning.
Chrys wasn't the only one to be eager awaiting her Daily Prophet: nearly everyone was eager for more news about the escaped Death Eaters, who, despite many sightings being reported, were still not caught.
Chrys gave the delivery owl a Knut and unfolded the newspaper eager as Arthur drank some apple juice; having only received one note the whole school year to date.
He wasn't prepared for an owl to land with a thud in front of him.
"What the hell?" He said as he saw the recipient's name and address:
ARTHUR PENDERGAST
GREAT HALL
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
He frowned and took the letter from the owl just as five more owls fluttered down beside it and jockeyed for position, treading in butter and knocking over the salk as each attempted to give him their letter first.
"What the hell's going on?" Mike asked in amazement as the whole Gryffindor table leaned to watch as another seven owls landed amongst the first six, screeching, hooting and flapping their wings.
"Arthur!" Chrys said breathlessly, plunging her hands into the feathery mass, pulling out a screech owl that bore a long, cylindrical package. "I think I know what this is, open this one first!"
Arthur ripped off the brown packaging and out came a tightly furled copy of the March edition of The Quibbler. He unrolled it to see his own face grinning sheepishly at him on the front cover. And in large red letters across the picture read:
ARTHUR PENDERGAST SPEAKS OUT AT LAST:
THE TRUTH ABOUT HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED
AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN
"It's good, isn't it?" Luna said, having drifted over to the Gryffindor table and squeezed herself onto the bench between Jack and David. "It came out yesterday. I asked dad to send you a free copy. I expect all these…" She waved a hand at the assembled owls that still scrabbled around on the table in front of Arthur. "...are letters from readers."
"That's what I was thinking." Chrys said eagerly.
They all started looking through the responses.
"This one guy says that you've lost your rocker." David said as he read one letter. "Can't convince everyone."
"This one woman recommends that you try a course of Shock Spells at St Mungo's." Chrys said, looking annoyed and crumpled it up in a second.
"But this one's good." Mike said, showing Arthur the letter he read from a witch in Paisley. "She says she believes you!"
"This one's in two minds." Jack said, joining in. "Says that you don't come across as a mad person, yet he doesn't want to believe that Voldemort's back so he doesn't know what to think right now. This is honestly a waste of parchment."
"You've managed to convince this one, Arthur!" Chrys said excitedly. "Having read your side of the story, I am forced to the conclusion that the Daily Prophet has treated you very unfairly… little though I want to think that He Who Must Not Be Named has returned, I am forced to accept that you are telling the truth…. Oh, this is great!"
"Another one here thinks you're mad." David said, crumpling up the letter. "This one, though, says you've got her converted and she now believes you're a real hero."
"What is going on here?" A falsely sweet, girlish voice said.
Arthur looked up and saw Umbridge standing behind Jack and Luna, her bulging toad's eyes scanning the mess of owls and letters on the table in front of Arthur. Behind her, many of the students watched them avidly.
"Why have you got all these letters, Mr Pendergast?" She asked slowly.
"Is it really a crime for him to get mail?" Jack asked.
"Be careful, Mr Merlon, or I shall have to put you in detention." Umbridge said. "Well, Mr Pendergast?"
Arthur knew it would be a matter of time before she'd get her hands on a copy of The Qubbler, but he decided to go ahead with his cover story.
"Well, it seems that people are writing to me because of an interview I apparently gave about what happened to me last June." He said.
For some reason, he was compelled to look at the staff table, sensing that Dumbledore was watching him, yet he saw him in a conversation with Flitwick.
"An interview?" Umbridge repeated, her voice thinner and higher than ever. "What do you mean?"
"It seems that some anonymous writer made up an interview of me answering their questions. I assume it's because they have a grudge against the Minister." Arthur said, throwing her the copy of The Quibbler. She caught it and stared down at the cover. Her pale, doughy face turned into an ugly, patchy violet.
"When was this published?" She asked, her voice trembling slightly.
"Just yesterday." Arthur said.
The magazine was now shaking in her stubby fingers before she stalked away, clutching The Quibbler to her chest, the eyes of many students following her.
By mid morning, enormous signs were put up all over the school, not just in the noticeboards in the house common rooms, but also in corridors and classrooms.
BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
Any students found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty Seven.
Signed:
Dolores Jane Umbridge
High Inquisitor
Every time Chrys caught sight of these signs, she'd beam with pleasure.
"What are you so happy about?" Arthur asked her.
"That toad has just ensured that everyone in this school will read your interview just by banning it!"
She was proven right. By the end of the day, despite not seeing any trace of The Quibbler anywhere, Arthur saw that the whole place was quoting the interview to each other. He'd hear them whispering about it as they queued outside of classes, discussing it over lunch and in the back of lessons. Chys even said that every occupant of the cubicles in the girls' toilets talked about it when she went there before Ancient Runes.
"Then they spotted me and since they knew I know you, they bombarded me with questions." Chrys told Arthur, her eyes shining. "I think they're starting to believe you, Arthur."
Meanwhile, Umbridge stalked throughout the school, stopping students at random and demanded them to turn out their books and pockets. She was looking for copies of The Quibbler, yet the students were a few steps ahead of her. The pages carrying Arthur's interview were bewitched to resemble extracts of textbooks if anyone else read them, or else wiped magically blank until they wanted to pursue it again.
Soon, every single person in the school read it.
Naturally, the teachers were forbidden from mentioning the interview thanks to Educational Decree Number Twenty Six, but they did find ways to express their feelings about it regardless.
Sprout would award Gryffindor twenty points when Arthur passed her a watering can; a beaming Flitwick pressed a box of squeaking sugar mice on him at the end of Charms, said "Shh" and hurried off; and Trelawney broke into hysterical sobs during Divination, announcing to the startled class, and a very disapproving Umbridge, that Arthur will not suffer an early death after all, and that he'd live to a ripe old age, become Minister for Magic and have twelve children.
One nice moment happened when he hurried along to Transfiguration the next day. Before he knew what happened, Cho had caught up with him, grabbed his hand and breathed into his ear "Thank you. That interview was so brave… it made me cry."
"Cedric deserved justice." Arthur told her, making her cry more with a smile before hurrying off again.
Then when he arrived outside Transfiguration, something just as good happened: Seamus stepped out of the queue and faced him.
"I just wanted to say…" He mumbled, squinting at Arthur's left knee. "...I believe you. And I've sent a copy of that magazine to me mam."
What capped off Arthur's complete happiness was the reaction of Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. He saw them with their heads together later that afternoon in the library; they were with the weedy looking boy Chrys said was named Theodore Nott. They looked round at Arthur as he browsed the shelves for a book he needed on Partial Vanishment: Goyle cracked his knuckles threateningly and Draco whispered something clearly malevolent to Crabbe. Arthur just knew that they acted like this because he had just outed their fathers as Death Eaters.
"And the best part…" Mike whispered with delight as they all left the library. "...is that they can't contradict you since they can't admit they've read the article!"
Then later, Luna told him over dinner that no other issue of The Quibbler had ever sold out this fast.
"Dad's reprinting!" She told Arthur, her eyes popping excitedly. "He can't believe it, he says people seem even more interested in this than the Crumple Horned Snorkacks!"
Arthur was truly a hero in the Gryffindor common room that night. Daringly, the twins put an Enlargement Charm on the front cover of The Quibbler and hung it on the wall, so that Arthur's head would gaze down upon the proceedings, occasionally saying such stuff as "THE MINISTRY ARE MORONS!" and "EAT DUNG, UMBRIDGE!" in a booming voice.
Chrys laughed her ass off from this before she went to bed, knowing that she can't do her homework with all this noise.
Arthur eventually went to bed as well, finding the poster annoying after an hour or two.
The dormitory was empty when he reached it. For a bit, he rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window beside his bed, which was soothing against his scar. He then got undressed and got into bed, feeling a headache and his scar started prickling again. He started feeling slightly sick.
He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost at once….
He found himself standing in a dark curtained room lit by a single branch of candles. His hands were clenched on the back of a chair in front of him. They were long fingered and so white that they seemed as though they haven't seen sunlight in years, looking like large pale spiders against the dark velvet chair.
Beyond the chair, in a pool of light cast upon the floor by the candles, knelt a man in black robes.
"I have been badly advised, it seems." Arthur seemingly said in a high cold voice that pulsed with anger. He was in Voldemort's head.
"Master, I crave your pardon." The man kneeling on the floor croaked. The back of his head glimmered in the candlelight and was trembling.
"I do not blame you, Rookwood." Voldemort said in that cold, cruel voice. He relinquished his grip on the chair and walked around it, closer to Rookwood until he stood directly over him in the darkness, looking down from a greater height than usual.
"You are sure of your facts, Rookwood?" Voldemort asked.
"Yes, My Lord, yes… I used to work in the Department after - after all…."
"Avery told me Bode would be able to remove it."
"Bode could never have taken it, Minister… Bode would have known he could not… undoubtedly, that is why he fought so hard against Malfoy's Imperius Curse…."
"Stand up, Rookwood." Voldemort whispered.
Rookwood almost fell over in his haste to obey. His face was as pockmarked as it was in the image from the Prophet; the scars were thrown into relief by the candlelight. He remained a little stooped when he stood, like he was halfway through a bow and then he darted terrified looks up at Voldemort's face.
"You have done well to tell me this." Voldemort said. "Very well… I have wasted months on fruitless schemes, it seems… but no matter… we begin again, from now. You have Lord Voldemort's gratitude, Rookwood…."
"My Lord… yes, My Lord." Rookwood gasped, his voice hoarse with relief.
"I shall need your help. I shall need all the information you can give me."
"Of course, My Lord, of course… anything…."
"Vey well… you may go. Send Avery to me."
Rookwood then scurried backwards, bowing, and disappeared through a door.
Now left alone in the dark room, Arthur was helpless when Voldemort turned towards the wall, where a cracked, age spotted mirror hung in the shadows. Voldemort moved towards it and his reflection grew larger and clearer in the darkness… showing his face that was whiter than a skull and red eyes with slits for pupils….
Arthur woke up, roaring with so much rage and fury, as he bolted up in bed.
"WHAT?" A voice said nearby.
Arthur moved the hangings apart and saw Mike and David were awake as his scar seared with pain.
"What happened?" Mike asked as he joined Arthur's side.
"Was it Nagini?" David asked with worry.
"No… I was in Voldemort's head." Arthur gasped. "He just talked with Rookwood. Bode was put under the Imperius Curse by Lucius. He tried to make Bode retrieve something but Avery gave the wrong information, according to Rookwood, who Voldemort just talked to. Voldemort's really angry."
"You were in his head?" Mike asked with concern.
"Just like with the snake." Arthur nodded.
"Lucius must've tried to make Bode retrieve what Voldemort is after, but it backfired, so they killed him to not say anything." David deduced.
When Dean and Seamus entered the dormitory, Arthur laid back in bed, not wanting Seamus to see him like this since he now doesn't consider Arthur a nutcase.
"Arthur, you have to tell -"
"No!" Arthur cut David off. "I'm not telling anyone if they aren't telling me anything."
He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, hearing David and Mike go back to their beds and lay down.
Arthur's scar was now burning, making him bite hard on his pillow to prevent himself from making a noise.
Elsewhere, Avery would be punished for his mistake.
The three boys waited until break the next morning to tell Chrys about what happened, wanting to make sure they weren't overheard.
Standing in their usual corner of the cool and breezy courtyard, Arthur told her every single detail of the dream. By the time he was finished, he then explained how this connects to Bode's death, now that they knew for sure how he got to St Mungo's.
"Of course, it would be easy for Lucius to put the Imperius Curse on Bode, it's like he now lives at the Ministry." She said after he was finished. "And now Rookwood will tell Voldemort how to get whatever he's after."
"Naturally, he was a spy in the Department of Mysteries." David said.
"But you shouldn't have seen it, Arthur." Chrys said. "You're supposed to close your mind to stop this from happening again."
"I know, but even when I clear my mind and emotions, I still have these bloody dreams." Arthur growled back.
The week was tense as it progressed. Despite receiving two more 'O's in Potions, he was still tense about Hagrid possibly getting sacked and every once in a while, he thought of the latest dream of Voldemort.
"Get up, Pendergast."
A couple of weeks after the dream with Voldemort and Rookwood, Arthur had now found himself kneeling on the floor again in Snape's office, trying to clear his mind.
He was forced to relive that dream as he still closed his mind off after the first memory or dream in his mind.
"That memory." Snape said as Arthur got to his feet. "What was it?"
"Nothing." Arthur spat.
Snape's dark eyes bored into Arthur's, who broke eye contact, remembering how Legilimency worked.
"How do that man and that room come to be inside your head, Pendergast?" Snape asked.
"It was a dream." Arthur replied, still avoiding eye contact with Snape.
"A dream?" Snape repeated.
There was a pause where Arthur stared fixedly at a large dead frog that was suspended in a jar of purple liquid.
"You do know why we are here, don't you, Pendergast?" Snape said in a low and dangerous voice. "You do know why I am giving up my evenings to this tedious job?"
"I do." Arthur said stiffly.
"Remind me why we are here, Pendergast."
"So that I can learn Occlumency." Arthur said, glaring at a dead eel.
"Correct, Pendergast. I would have thought that after over two months of lessons, you might have made some progress. How many other dreams about the Dark Lord have you had?"
"Only one other." Arthur replied, not even bothering to hide the truth.
"Perhaps…" Snape said, his dark, cold eyes narrowing slightly. "...perhaps you actually enjoy having these visions and dreams, Pendergast. Maybe they make you feel special - important?"
"They don't." Arthur spat, his jaw set and his clenched tightly around the handle of his wand. "I did as you've instructed, yet I still have these stupid dreams."
"That is just as well, Pendergast." Snape said coldly. "Because you are neither special nor important, and it is not up to you to find out what the Dark Lord is saying to his Death Eaters."
"Of course not, that's your job." Arthur spat before he could stop himself
There seemed to be a curious, downright satisfied expression on Snape's face.
"Yes, Pendergast." He said, his eyes glinting. "That is my job. Now, if you are ready, we will start again."
He then raised his wand, Arthur's annoyance growing so much that he decided that he'll get back at Snape.
"One… two… three… Legilimens!"
"PROTEGO!"
Snape staggered, his wand flying upwards away from Arthur and now his mind was teeming with Snape's memories: he saw a hook-nosed man shouting at a cowering woman as a small dark haired boy cried in a corner… a greasy haired teenager sat alone in a dark bedroom, pointing his wand at the ceiling, shooting flies down… a girl laughed at a scrawny boy who tried to mount a bucking broomstick -"
"ENOUGH!"
Arthur felt like he was pushed hard in the chest; he staggered several steps back, hitting some of the shelves that covered Snape's walls and heard something crack. Snake shook slightly and was very white in the face.
The back of Arthur's robes were damp. One of the jars behind him broke when he fell against it; the pickled slimy thing within swirled in the draining potion.
"Reparo." Snape hissed and the jar sealed itself at once. "Well, Pendergast… that was certainly an improvement…." Panting slightly, Snape straightened the Pensieve that he had again stored some of his thoughts before starting the lesson, which Arthur was now sure Snape didn't want him to see for whatever reason. "I don't remember telling you to use a Shield Charm… but there is no doubt that it was effective…."
Arthur didn't speak, which he considered to be dangerous at this point after looking at some of Snape's memories of his childhood, like with who had to be his neglective and argumentative parents.
"Let's try again, shall we?" Snape said.
Arthur was now sure that he'll pay for what had just happened. They both moved back into position with the desk between them.
Arthur was somehow able to keep his mind empty this time, which was a miracle after what he just endured. And he knew that Snape would enter his mind at an unexpected time, so he prepared himself.
"On the count of three, then." Snape said, raising his wand again. "One… two…."
He didn't make it to three as he cried "Leglilimens!"
Arthur still found himself in Snape's office, glaring hard at Snape… it seemed he did it.
"My, my… have blocked me from reading your mind, Pendergast." Snape said. "You just might be able to prevent the Dark Lord from -"
He was cut off when a woman screamed from somewhere outside the office. This made Snape's head jerk upwards, gazing up at the ceiling.
Arthur then heard a muffled commotion coming from what had to be the Entrance hall. Snape looked round at him, frowning.
"Did you see anything unusual on your way down here, Pendergast?"
Arthur shook his head before the female scream was heard again.
Snape strode to his office door, wand still held at the ready, sweeping out of sight.
Arthur followed him without hesitation.
The screams did in fact come from the Entrance Hall and they grew louder as Arthur ran towards the stone steps that led up from the dungeons.
Upon reaching the top, he found the Entrance Hall to be packed; students were flooding in from the Great Hall, where dinner was still in progress, to see what was going on; others crammed themselves onto the marble staircase.
Arthur pushed his way forwards through a knot of tall Slytherins and saw that the onlookers formed a ring, some looked shocked, others frightened.
McGonagall was directly opposite Arthur on the other side of the Hall; she looked like she watching something that made her feel faintly sick.
Trelawney stood in the middle of the Entrance Hall with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Her hair now stood up on end, her glasses were lopsided so that one eye was magnified more than the other; her innumerable shawls and scarves trailed haphazardly from her shoulders, making her seem like she was falling apart at the seams.
Beside her on the floor were two large trunks, one of them being upside down; it looked like it was thrown down the stairs after her.
Trelawney stared, apparently terrified, at something that Arthur couldn't see but seemed to be standing at the foot of the stairs.
"No!" She shrieked. "NO! This cannot be happening… it cannot… I refuse to accept it!"
"You didn't realise this was coming?" A high pitched girly voice said, sounding callously amused. Arthur moved slightly to his right and saw that the terrible visions Trelawney was seeing was in fact Umbridge. "Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather, you must surely have realised that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable that you would be sacked?"
"You c - can't!" Trelawney howled, tears now streaming down her face from behind her enormous lenses. "You c - can't sack me! I've b - been here sixteen years! H - Hogwarts is m - my h - home!"
"It was your home…" Umbridge said, and Arthur was beyond revolted and disgusted by the enjoyment that stretched her toad-like face as she watched Trelawney sink, now sobbing uncontrollably, onto one of her trunks. "...until an hour ago, when the Minister for Magic countersigned your Order of Dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this Hall. You are embarrassing us."
She just stood and watched with an expression of gloating enjoyment as Trelawney shuddered and moaned, rocking back and forth on her trunk in paroxysms of grief.
Arthur heard muffled sobbing to his left and looked to see Lavender and Parvati crying quietly, their arms around each other.
Then there were footsteps. McGonagall broke away from the spectators, marching straight to Trelawney and patted her firmly on the back as she withdrew a large handkerchief from her robes.
"There, there, Sybill… calm down… blow your nose on this… it's not as bad as you think, now… you are not going to have to leave Hogwarts…."
"Oh really, Professor McGonagall?" Umbridge said in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward. "And your authority for that statement is….?"
"That would be mine." A deep voice said.
The oaken front doors swung open and students beside them scuttled out of the way as Dumbledore appeared in the entrance.
Arthur was confused as to why he'd be out in the grounds, but the sight before him was very impressive, seeing the Headmaster framed in the doorway against an oddly misty night.
Leaving the doors wide open behind him, Dumbledore strode forwards through the circle of onlookers to Trelawney, who was tear stained and trembling on her trunk, McGonagall still alongside her.
"Yours, Professor Dumbledore?" Umbridge said with a singularly unpleasant little laugh. "I'm afraid you do not understand the position I have here -" She pulled out a parchment scroll from her robes. " - an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister for Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty Three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation and sack any teacher she - that is to say, I - feel is not performing to the standards required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her."
Arthur was a bit surprised to see Dumbledore still smiling.
He looked down at Trelawney, who still sobbed and choked on her trunk, and said "You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge. As High Inquisitor, you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid…" He went on, with a courteous little bow. "...that the power to do that still resides with the Headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts."
Trelawney made a wild little laugh where a hiccough was barely hidden.
"No - no, I'll g - go, Dumbledore! I sh -shall - leave Hogwarts and s - seek my fortune elsewhere -"
"No." Dumbledore said sharply. "It is my wish that you remain, Sybill."
He then turned to McGonagall.
"Might I ask you to escort Sybill back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?"
"Of course." She said. "Up you get, Sybill…."
Sprout hurried forwards out of the crowd and grabbed Trelawney's other arm. Together, they guided her past Umbridge and up the marble staircase.
Flitwick then scurried after them, his wand held out before him; he squeaked "Locomotor trunks!" and Trelawney's luggage rose into the air and went up the staircase after her, Flitwick bringing up the rear.
Umbridge stood stock still, staring at Dumbledore, who continued smiling benignly.
"And what…" She then said in a whisper that carried around the Entrance Hall. "...are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?"
"Oh, that won't be a problem." Dumbledore said pleasantly. "You see, I have already found us a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor."
"You've found -?" Umbridge said shrilly. "You've found? Might I remind you, Dumbledore, that under Educational Decree Number Twenty Two -"
"The Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if - and only if - the Headmaster is unable to find one." Dumbledore cut her off. "And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?"
He turned to face the open front doors, through which night mist now drifted in.
Arthur heard the distinct sound of hooves and a shocked murmur filled the Hall and those nearest to the doors hastily moved further back, some even tripping over in their haste to clear a path for the newcomer.
Through the mist came a face that Arthur only saw once way back in his first year on a dark and dangerous night in the Forbidden Forest: white blonde hair and astonishingly blue eyes; the head and torso of a man joined to the palomino body of a horse.
"This is Firenze." Dumbledore said happily to a thunderstruck Umbridge. "I think you'll find him suitable."
Let's all prepare ourselves for things to get worse from the next chapter onwards.