Without even needing to look back over his shoulder, Adrian knew with certainty that Umbridge's facial expression at this moment must be quite spectacular.
At that moment, just as he reached the bottom step of the staircase, Adrian suddenly remembered something. He paused and turned back around to face Umbridge, who still stood frozen in the corridor.
"Allow me to say this one more thing, Professor Umbridge," he called back to her with casualness, his voice echoing slightly in the stone passage. "You're truly very bold. Impressively so, actually."
"What?" Umbridge's face showed an expression of complete disbelief and confusion, her small eyes were narrowing with suspicion. Her mouth opened and closed like a landed fish. "What are you implying?"
Then her expression changed rapidly to anger.
"Are you threatening me?" Her voice suddenly became shrill and sharp, rising several octaves with indignation. The sound was genuinely painful to hear.
"Don't misunderstand my intentions, Professor Umbridge," Adrian said, shaking his head lightly, as if explaining something simple to a slow child. He revealed a meaningful, almost pitying smile. "I'm not threatening you at all. I'm talking about the curse. The Defense Against the Dark Arts position curse.
After all, as you may or may not be aware, every single Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts for the past several decades seems unable to escape that curse. They all suffer misfortune of varying severity. I'm just giving you a friendly, professional reminder as a concerned colleague. Consider it a courtesy."
After hearing this unexpected statement, the muscles on Umbridge's face twitched perceptibly and uncontrollably. Then she forced out an exaggerated, obviously fake laugh that sounded more like a strangled cat.
"Ha—ha ha! How absolutely ridiculous a lie!" She said. "That's nothing but superstitious nonsense! Only foolish, gullible students would believe such childish tricks and scary stories."
Adrian remained completely indifferent to her denial, his expression not changing at all. He merely leaned forward slightly, moving a step closer to her, his voice dropped lower but becoming more intense.
"Is that so?" His tone was calm yet absolutely certain. "But forgive me for saying so bluntly, Professor Umbridge—perhaps you haven't even noticed it yourself yet, being too focused... but you seem to have already been tainted by that ominous dark magic aura."
Umbridge instinctively stepped back half a pace, looking genuinely frightened by Adrian's certainty and the strange conviction in his voice. It put a special kind of psychological pressure.
Her face had gone pale beneath the powder and make-up.
"If I were you," Adrian continued in that same calm, assured tone, "I would seriously consider tonight about how to properly submit a respectable emergency transfer request to the Ministry."
He tilted his head slightly.
"After all, when the signs of the curse become obvious enough to be seen with the naked eye by your students, I'm afraid it will be far too late for you to leave this position with any dignity intact. Better to go now while you still can."
Having delivered that ominous warning, Adrian didn't linger for any response or argument. He simply turned smoothly and began ascending the staircase.
Though he knew rationally that such direct threats and warnings were probably useless with someone as stubborn and power-hungry as Umbridge as she'd never leave voluntarily—he delivered them anyway.
The current iteration of Umbridge hadn't yet caused any truly major trouble or implemented her worst policies. But Adrian knew with certainty given her nature and vindictive personality, she would eventually show her fangs.
It was only a matter of time before she escalated.
Perhaps, Adrian thought as he climbed, he could consider adding some additional "seasoning" to amplify Voldemort's curse?
After Adrian's footsteps faded completely up the staircase and disappeared from hearing, Umbridge remained standing alone in the empty corridor. Her expression shifted and changed rapidly from uncertain, angry, frightened, calculating.
Although she had been teaching at Hogwarts for over a full month now, she clearly felt with frustration that almost nobody in the entire school took her seriously or respected her authority.
Adrian's parting words were like a cold, venomous snake, coiling tightly around her heart and squeezing, bringing an unpleasant chill that wouldn't dissipate no matter how she tried to dismiss it.
Of course, she told herself firmly, she didn't genuinely believe in any foolish curse—at least that's what her rational mind insisted.
Curses were superstition. Dark magic couldn't persist for decades without someone noticing and breaking it.
That's what she told herself.
But doubt surely lingered.
What truly infuriated her most was that man's entire attitude of completely disregarding her existence! Treating her like she was nothing, nobody, utterly trivial!
Why did Adrian Westeros have such confidence and arrogance? What gave him the right to dismiss her so casually?
Just because he was Hogwarts' Care of Magical Creatures professor? Because he was Dumbledore's supporter? Because students liked him?
How absolutely ridiculous.
This situation couldn't continue! She wouldn't tolerate this disrespect any longer!
She must immediately obtain considerably greater power and authority. Real power that couldn't be ignored or dismissed.
Yes, more power. That was the solution.
Fudge's appointment alone clearly wasn't enough to get respect or obedience here. She needed something far more significant and legally unquestionable, such as... an Educational Decree.
Yes! That was exactly what she needed!
She needed an Educational Decree personally signed by the Minister of Magic himself, carrying full legal authority and Ministry backing. Something that would grant her absolute, unchallengeable power to directly interfere with faculty appointments, establish and enforce school rules however she saw fit, review and modify the curriculum, and generally exert total control over every aspect of Hogwarts.
Let them try to dismiss her then.
Thinking of this solution, feeling the plan take shape in her mind, Umbridge took a deep, steadying breath through her nose, trying to calm her turbulent, angry emotions and regain her composure.
She straightened her collar with shaking fingers, smoothed down her pink cardigan, and forced her face to arrange itself once again into that skillful false smile.
The main goal now was to write Minister Fudge an urgent letter detailing the supposedly chaotic and dangerous situation at Hogwarts. She needed to paint a picture of crisis and incompetence.
Well... claiming that someone like Dumbledore was plotting to forcefully obtain the Minister of Magic's position through some kind of coup would be quite believable, wouldn't it? Fudge probably already suspected something along the lines of it.
She just needed to provide some ''substantial' evidence to confirm his fears. And if she didn't have real evidence... well, fabricated evidence would work just as effectively. Fudge would want to believe her.
Of course, at that moment, Adrian didn't know exactly what Umbridge was thinking or plotting in the corridor below. He'd already dismissed her from his mind.
Mid-October
Another week passed in what felt like the blink of an eye, time was flowing steadily forward as it always did. It was now mid-October, and autumn was settling fully over the Scottish Highlands.
Summer's warmth had completely faded away, replaced by cooler temperatures and shorter days. But winter's harsh, bitter cold had not yet arrived to freeze everything solid. The weather remained pleasant, and balanced.
Though it was definitively autumn now, with leaves turning bright colors and falling from trees, there was still no shortage of bright, warm sunshine during the afternoon hours.
In the courtyard outside the castle's main entrance, Harry sat alone on the low stone wall of a flowerbed, staring somewhat blankly up at the sky above. His mind was elsewhere, wandering.
Golden sunlight came through scattered white clouds, refracting in interesting patterns and creating a concentrated spot of bright light on his glasses that made him squint slightly. The warmth felt good on his face.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts Study Group's activities were going remarkably smoothly overall—they had just successfully finished conducting their second official meeting yesterday afternoon, and it had gone even better than the first.
Compared to the initial gathering, there had been quite a few more people in attendance this time. Word was definitely spreading through the school about the group's value and Harry's teaching ability.
Harry had even spotted many familiar faces from other years and houses—people he'd talked to occasionally but who hadn't committed initially. Now they were convinced and showing up.
Most surprisingly, even Cedric had attended, which was genuinely unexpected.
Harry felt somewhat that Cedric didn't really need to participate in the study group's meetings at all. He was already in his seventh and final year, highly capable and skilled, proficient in advanced spell-casting, and was universally recognized as one of the most excellent students at the entire school across all houses.
What could Harry possibly teach someone like that?
But according to what Cedric had explained after the meeting, he genuinely believed that observing Harry's teaching methods and seeing different approaches to magic spells could bring him some new ideas and perspectives worth considering.
"Fresh perspectives are valuable at any skill level," Cedric had said earnestly.
For seventh-year students like Cedric, this was their last year at Hogwarts before entering the adult wizarding world. Cedric had already started seriously researching and planning his future career options quite early—Harry thought he didn't need to worry at all about finding good opportunities, since Cedric would most likely be recognized as this year's most outstanding Hogwarts graduate.
The best of his year.
"I need to learn more diverse techniques and strategies for dealing with dark magic and dangerous situations," Cedric explained during their conversation after the meeting. "You know, I'm actually planning to travel right after graduation rather than immediately entering employment. Explore magical communities in other countries, study different traditions, learn from international experts."
He smiled slightly and continued.
"My father has always hoped I would enter the Ministry of Magic immediately and start building a career, follow in his footsteps. But I think gaining worldly experience first is better for long-term development. You know, many excellent and accomplished wizards make exactly this choice—Dumbledore traveled for years in his youth, and Professor Westeros did so too."
That's what Cedric had said, and Harry thought it had great reference value for his own future.
Choosing to travel internationally and gain experience before settling into a career path was indeed probably a wise option, much better than rushing into the first available job.
Besides Cedric's unexpected attendance, Cho Chang had also participated in this second meeting.
"What are you thinking about so intently, Harry?"
Just as Harry was lost deep in thought, staring at clouds without really seeing them, a familiar warm voice reached his ears from behind.
He turned his head quickly—it was indeed Professor Westeros.
"Nothing important," Harry answered instinctively, somewhat defensively, then added more honestly, "Just resting my mind. Thinking about various things."
Adrian sat down casually beside him on the flowerbed wall, not caring at all about the damp mud and dirt staining his robes. His posture was relaxed, comfortable.
"Briefly emptying your mind and letting it wander is genuinely beneficial in many situations," Adrian said conversationally. "Mental rest is as important as physical rest. Don't let yourself get too tired or overwhelmed, especially with all your new responsibilities. Burnout helps no one."
Harry nodded in acknowledgment of this advice.
In fact, he didn't actually feel particularly tired at all, even though organizing the meetings and coordinating schedules and preparing lessons kept him somewhat constantly busy. The work was energizing rather than draining.
"Ah, by the way," Adrian said after a moment of silence, putting on a deliberately playful smile. He reached over and patted Harry's shoulder in a friendly manner, then teased gently, "I just saw Cho Chang taking a walk outside by the lake. She's the girl you like, isn't she?"
'Cho Chang?'
Harry smiled bitterly at being so transparent. "Don't tease me, Professor. It's more complicated than that."
He had indeed genuinely liked Cho Chang very much last year, enough that his heart raced whenever she was nearby. But perhaps because he'd been so constantly busy lately with meetings and training and homework, or perhaps because there was always that sword of destiny hanging over his head, threatening his future... somehow he didn't have such intensely strong romantic feelings anymore.
Now, even if he happened to see Cedric and Cho Chang together on a date, he could remain relatively unmoved and composed.
Well, he might feel a small pang of jealousy still. But it didn't consume him anymore. It didn't matter as much.
Adrian looked at Harry's complex expression with thoughtful assessment, reading the emotions across his young face.
A young person's inner thoughts and feelings are very often written plainly on their face for anyone observant to read, especially at fifteen.
"So, how do you think my study group meetings are going?" Harry asked, deliberately changing the subject away.
"Very well indeed," Adrian nodded approvingly, his tone was encouraging. "You're a natural teacher, Harry. Better than many teachers. The students admire you and actually listen."
But then his tone shifted, becoming more serious and somewhat ominous. "However, I must warn you—trouble will always come eventually, no matter how well things are going."
"What?" Harry asked with confusion and concern, his relaxed posture began tensing. "What kind of trouble? Has something happened?"
"Things never go smoothly forever in this world," Adrian said philosophically. He reached into his robes and pulled out a folded piece of paper from an inner pocket, then handed it to Harry. "Especially not when politics and power are involved."
After Harry took it, he discovered it was a clipping from the Daily Prophet.
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