The Ministry arrived at noon.
They did not announce themselves with thunder or spectacle.
They simply walked through the front gates in a tidy line of plum-colored robes, polished shoes gleaming against the gravel, expressions tight with bureaucratic importance.
At their center was a short, squat woman dressed in violently pink. Her bow quivered with each step. Harry stopped mid-sentence as he spotted her through the Great Hall windows.
"Oh no." Hermione went pale.
Percy frowned. "Who is that?"
Ron answered flatly. "That is trouble."
The doors swung open with theatrical precision. At the front stood Dolores Umbridge, smiling a small, wide smile that did not reach her eyes.
"Good afternoon," she trilled, her voice syrupy and sharp at once. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything important." Behind her stood several Ministry officials and a thin wizard clutching a stack of scrolls. The hall was silent. Dumbledore rose calmly from the staff table.
"Madam Umbridge," he said pleasantly. "To what do we owe this pleasure?" Her smile widened. "Why, Headmaster, to safety of course." Her eyes swept the hall and landed on Percy. Just for a second. Then moved on.
"It has come to the Ministry's attention," she continued, "that certain… disturbances have occurred on school grounds. Dangerous magical surges. Structural instability. Unverified claims of interdimensional ruptures." Murmurs rippled through the students. Harry's jaw tightened.
Dumbledore folded his hands serenely. "We have the situation well in hand."
"I'm sure you believe that," Umbridge replied sweetly. "However, the Ministry does not rely on belief. We rely on oversight." The thin wizard stepped forward and unrolled a scroll.
"By order of the Minister," he announced, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is to undergo immediate administrative review under Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four." Groans erupted across the hall. Ron muttered something unprintable. Hermione looked murderous.
"And," Umbridge added brightly, "I have been appointed High Inquisitor of Hogwarts." Her eyes glinted. "For your protection."
By evening, the castle felt smaller. Pink notices appeared on walls. Ministry seals shimmered faintly at corridor intersections. Defensive wards were replaced with "regulated safety enchantments" that hummed in sterile monotony.
Umbridge installed herself in a former Charms classroom, redecorated overnight in lace curtains and porcelain kittens. She summoned Percy first. He entered to find her seated behind an ornate desk, hands folded.
"Mr. Jackson," she said softly. "Such a fascinating student."
Percy said nothing. She tilted her head. "Half-blood of a rather… unusual nature, I'm told."
"My dad works at the Ministry," Percy replied evenly.
She smiled thinly. "Yes. We're aware." Her eyes sharpened. "You've been present at every recorded disturbance. Care to explain why water responds to you?" Percy held her gaze.
"I was defending the school."
"How noble."
Her quill scratched across parchment. "You must understand, dear boy, the Ministry cannot tolerate unstable magical phenomena within a learning environment."
"It wasn't unstable."
Her smile vanished for a flicker of a second.
"Oh?"
"It was controlled."
Something cold entered her eyes. "Controlled magic is Ministry magic," she said softly. "Not student improvisation." Percy felt the lake stir faintly under the castle.
"You can't regulate this," he said before he could stop himself.
Her smile snapped back into place. "We regulate everything."
Within days, Educational Decree Twenty-Five banned "unsupervised water-based spellcasting." Twenty-Six required all magical research to be submitted to Umbridge's office for approval.
Twenty-Seven prohibited "dissemination of unverified catastrophic theories." Hermione nearly exploded.
"She's deliberately suppressing information about the seal!" Ron threw up his hands. "Of course she is! That's what she does!" Harry paced.
"She doesn't believe the rift is real."
"No," Percy said quietly.
"She does."
They looked at him.
"She just thinks she can control it."
The next disturbance came during one of Umbridge's inspections. She stood in the courtyard, flanked by Ministry officials, evaluating Professor Flitwick's "curriculum adequacy." The fountain at the center of the courtyard trembled.
Percy felt it immediately. The absence was probing again. A faint shimmer appeared above the water's surface. Hermione inhaled sharply. Umbridge noticed. "What is that?" she demanded.
The shimmer widened slightly. Barely visible, but wrong. Harry stepped forward. "We need to reinforce it." Umbridge raised a hand sharply.
"No student intervention without Ministry approval." The shimmer deepened. Percy felt the lake answering, distant but ready.
"Move," he said.
Her eyes flashed. "You will stand down, Mr. Jackson."
The air thinned. The shimmer began erasing the edge of the fountain.
Hermione hissed, "She's going to let it destabilize just to prove a point." Percy didn't wait. He stepped forward and placed his hand on the water. It surged upward instantly, coiling around the distortion. Harry and Hermione joined him. Ron followed without hesitation.
Light flared. The shimmer sealed. The fountain collapsed back into stillness. Students stared. Professors exchanged dark looks. Umbridge's face had gone a mottled shade of pink.
"You defied a Ministry directive," she said in a trembling voice.
"We prevented a breach," Harry shot back.
She turned to the officials behind her. "Record this."
Her smile returned, brittle as glass. "Detention. All four of you."
That night, as Percy scrubbed lines into parchment under Umbridge's supervision, he felt something else. Not the absence. Not Aequor. Movement within the Ministry wards.
They were interacting poorly with the reconfigured seal. Restricting natural magical flow. Weakening it. And Umbridge didn't know.
Or worse.
Didn't care.
As Percy finished the final line, his hand stinging faintly, Umbridge leaned forward. "Order," she said softly, "is achieved through authority. Chaos is born of children who believe themselves heroes."
Percy met her gaze calmly. "You're standing on top of a gate to nothing."
Her smile faltered.
"For your sake," he continued quietly, "I hope your decrees are stronger than what's pushing back."
For a fraction of a second, fear flickered behind her eyes. Then it was gone.
"Detention tomorrow as well," she said sweetly.
Far from Hogwarts, in a dimly lit room within the Ministry's lower levels, Dolores Umbridge stood before a hooded wizard. On the table between them lay a small vial of blackened water. It pulsed faintly.
"You are certain this is from the epicenter?" she asked softly.
The hooded wizard nodded nervously. "And the incantation fragments?"
He slid a scrap of parchment toward her. Ancient script. Hermione's script. Umbridge smiled. "Good." She placed a gloved hand over the vial. The liquid inside darkened further.
"Continue acquiring what I requested," she said mildly. "Discretion will be rewarded."
The hooded wizard bowed and vanished. Umbridge remained alone in the dim chamber. Her smile sharpened. "If Dumbledore will not control it," she murmured, "I shall." The vial pulsed again.
And for just a moment, the liquid inside it vanished. Not spilled, not evaporated, gone. Umbridge's smile did not fade.
But her hand trembled in excitement.
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I know it's weird that they know who umbridge is at this point in time. Just pretend that Umbridge is already infamous among the student body because of her methods in the Ministry.