"That's not Defense Against the Dark Arts anymore!"
In the common room, Hermione shouted as if her patience had finally snapped.
For someone who loved studying as much as she did, nothing infuriated her more than Umbridge's classes.
Especially this year, when Voldemort had returned and they all needed to prepare themselves.
At this rate, when the dark forces finally made their move, they wouldn't even be able to protect themselves.
"She's a terrible woman. Absolutely terrible. We have to do something about her."
"Let's poison her."
"Ron, be quiet!"
By "do something," she didn't mean actually kill her.
That would be a crime. A straight ticket to Azkaban.
"What I mean is, Umbridge is utterly worthless as a teacher. We can't learn any real defense from her."
"But what can we do?"
"We'll teach ourselves!"
Hermione declared with confidence, as if this were the greatest idea ever conceived.
But self-study was nothing new—they'd done it before.
They were long past the stage of learning from books alone.
"But Hermione, we can't accomplish much on our own."
"Exactly. What we need is a teacher. Someone who can teach us properly and correct us when we're wrong."
Hermione looked at Harry expectantly as she spoke.
But Harry didn't understand the meaning behind her gaze.
"Are you talking about Lupin? But he's—"
"No, Harry. I know Lupin's busy. I'm talking about you."
Harry recoiled at Hermione's bombshell statement.
What?
Me, a teacher?
Harry wondered if Hermione had finally lost her mind, but her face was deadly serious.
"M-me? That's impossible. If anyone should do it, you'd be better."
"No, Harry. Your Defense Against the Dark Arts grades are higher than mine. And you've had more real experience than anyone."
What mattered in fighting dark magic was split-second judgment and actual experience.
In that regard, no one was better suited than Harry.
He'd been through countless dangerous situations and faced life-threatening crises.
Most importantly, he'd encountered You-Know-Who three times and survived every encounter.
He had a track record of survival that no one else could match.
"Yeah, I agree. At least it's way better than having me teach."
Ron grinned and nodded his agreement.
But Hermione pressed her hand to her forehead in exasperation.
"Ron... you need to remember to actually use magic, alright?"
Ron had spent a year hospitalized at St. Mungo's, and since his return, he tended to rely on brute force and his naturally large build.
Well, perhaps it was understandable given he was a year behind in his studies.
"But I—"
"Of course it won't just be you. I'll help too. And there are definitely other students who think the same way. Cedric, Edith, and others."
The first thing they needed to do was gather allies.
In times like these, they needed to unite and stand against Umbridge.
Hermione snatched Harry's Marauder's Map and searched for where potential allies might be.
Cedric... in the Hufflepuff common room with Cho Chang.
The Weasley twins... in the library. What were they up to?
Luna Lovegood... in the bathroom.
Angelina Johnson... in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory.
Edith Lynnagale... in the Slytherin common room.
She didn't recognize the nearby names like Daphne, Mary, and Rainer, but they were probably Slytherin friends.
There were plenty of other students who might become allies.
The days of mere oppression were over.
From now on, they would fight back.
Watching Hermione like this, Harry sighed alone at the scent of fresh trouble brewing.
"Edith, do you have a moment?"
During break, Hermione jogged up to Edith as she walked down the corridor.
It wasn't unusual for Hermione to approach her like this.
Despite being from Gryffindor and Slytherin—houses that were normally rivals—these two had become irreplaceable friends.
"Hmm? What's up, Hermione?"
"So, we're going to Hogsmeade soon, right?"
"Yeah."
"We're planning to meet at a pub there to discuss self-studying Defense. You know... we can't learn real defense from Professor Umbridge's classes, right?"
Edith nodded at Hermione's words.
She'd been thinking the same thing for a while now.
Not just her—everyone was thinking it.
That woman wasn't cut out to be a teacher.
"To learn real defense, we need to take initiative and do it ourselves."
Just as Mirabelle had foreseen.
Without showing this on her face, Edith nodded.
Self-study was excellent—definitely something they should do.
But the problem was the risk of Umbridge finding out.
"So I think Harry would be perfect as our teacher."
"...Huh?"
Harry? Why? Why?
Sure, his Defense grades were top-tier.
But he was still just a fellow student, and unlike Mirabelle, he hadn't received elite education, so he didn't know spells they didn't.
More than that, his personality wasn't suited for teaching.
If Hermione had said she'd be the teacher, Edith could maybe understand—barely—but Harry? No way.
Just no, Edith's face said, and Hermione hastily explained.
"But look, he has the most real experience, and he's the only one who's actually faced Voldemort."
"Well, I suppose that's true, but..."
In terms of practical experience, Harry was probably top of the entire school.
After all, he got caught up in trouble every year, fighting all sorts of things.
First year: trolls, Fluffy, Quirrell. Second year: Tom Riddle.
Third year: he drove off Dementors. Fourth year: he won the Triwizard Tournament and actually fought Voldemort.
Looking at it that way, maybe he was surprisingly well-suited?
"So I was hoping you'd join us too, Edith."
"...Hey Hermione, there are going to be a lot of people there, right?"
"Yes. Well, maybe just a few? Obviously Harry, Ron, and me, plus Neville, Dean, and Lavender. Cedric, Parvati and Padma, Katie, Alicia, Angelina. And then—"
"Okay, okay, stop, stop."
Edith frantically waved her hands as names kept pouring from Hermione's mouth.
This was terrible—way more than "just a few."
And at that moment, Edith's answer crystallized.
"Sorry, I can't go."
"W-why not?!"
"I'm a Slytherin, remember? If I show up, they'll just think I'm Umbridge's spy. I don't want to ruin your meeting because of me, so I'll pass this time."
This was her honest feeling.
Most Slytherins were Umbridge supporters.
Malfoy especially was actively ingratiating himself with Umbridge, looking for dirt on the other houses.
Of course Edith was different, but even so, having a Slytherin at the meeting would sour the atmosphere and drive some students away.
Since Hermione and the others were trying to study and build strength against the dark forces, the more people the better.
Therefore, Edith reasoned, she shouldn't be there.
"But if you can't defend yourself against the dark forces, you'll be in danger too!"
Hermione raised her voice in concern.
She was worried about the possibility of Edith being targeted.
After all, in second year, Edith had actually been attacked by the Basilisk.
But Edith shook her head.
"It's fine. I'm self-studying with Mirabelle too."
"With Beresford?"
"Yeah. Though it's more accurate to say she's teaching me."
Unfortunately, Edith and Mirabelle were at different skill levels.
Studying side-by-side would be nearly impossible for these two.
So currently, Edith was in the position of being taught one-sidedly.
But their private study sessions were definitely bearing fruit, and Edith's skills were showing solid growth.
"So I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, Hermione."
"...Okay, I understand."
Hermione still looked unconvinced, but she reluctantly gave up on inviting Edith in the face of the deep-rooted rivalries between houses.
Seeing Hermione's terribly disappointed expression, Edith felt bad and forced a smile.
"Good luck, Hermione. I can't participate, but if things get dangerous, I'll come running anytime."
"Thanks, Edith."
They exchanged a firm handshake, and then Hermione ran off.
Watching her go, Edith also walked down the corridor toward her next class.
Praying that Hermione's meeting would go well...
Several weeks passed.
Harry's group was walking a dangerous line, but things were going well.
Umbridge seemed to know they were holding meetings, but she hadn't gotten proof.
Also, discovering the Room of Requirement meant they could practice without anyone knowing—a huge advantage.
Meanwhile, under Mirabelle's guidance, Edith was rapidly improving her skills. Now (in dueling at least) she even surpassed seventh-years.
But that didn't mean there were no problems.
In the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match, Gryffindor won as usual, and Malfoy trembled with his usual humiliation. That part was fine.
(Mirabelle wasn't participating this year since she'd only been a substitute for Marcus anyway.)
But afterward, he proved that a sore loser's whining becomes more than just irritating when taken too far, and ended up getting beaten by Harry and the Weasley twins.
While Harry's group had been hot-headed, credit should really go to Malfoy here.
He remained a second-rate Quidditch player as always, but when it came to irritating people, he was first-class.
As a result, Harry's group gave Umbridge leverage, had their playing privileges revoked, and couldn't compete in future matches—a huge success for Slytherin.
...Though needless to say, their tactics devoid of any pride only increased the other houses' disgust.
But even that became trivial compared to the major incident that occurred outside the school.
"A mass breakout from Azkaban."
In the Great Hall at breakfast, Mirabelle took a bite of her bread and spoke with something like contempt.
That scorn was probably directed at the Ministry of Magic.
If the breakout had happened with no information to go on, they'd still be incompetent but at least it would be understandable.
But to fail despite having been warned—there were no words of defense for that.
"At this point, they should realize Dumbledore wasn't lying..."
"Cornelius Fudge is nothing but a liability to the wizarding world now. He should just resign already."
She sipped her corn soup and crumpled the newspaper.
Mirabelle said it casually, but it was one correct answer.
Unfortunately, Cornelius Fudge was nothing but harmful to the wizarding world.
Taking no countermeasures, dragging down his allies, clinging to power.
It would honestly be better if he weren't there at all. Cruel as it sounded, it would actually be a net positive if Death Eaters killed him.
And while the Ministry sabotaged its own side, the dark forces were steadily preparing.
"I think so too... these people are way too stupid. At this rate, someone could infiltrate the Ministry and they wouldn't even notice, would they?"
"Probably. Or perhaps they've already infiltrated deep inside."
Mirabelle set down her finished soup and savored the aftertaste.
But after being shown the Ministry's disgrace, she couldn't settle down.
She'd known they were incompetent. She'd expected them to drag everyone down.
But she never imagined they'd be this hopeless...
"How are Harry and the others supposed to protect themselves in this situation..."
"Hey now, that's not the issue here, Lynnagale."
At Edith still worrying about Harry's group, Mirabelle smiled wryly in exasperation.
"When the Ministry falls, you'll be a target too. You should worry about yourself first."
"I'll be fine."
"Hm? Why?"
Edith was actually in just as dangerous a position as Hermione.
She must be aware of that, yet she declared she'd be "fine"—Mirabelle looked at her suspiciously.
Then Edith smiled mischievously and looked at Mirabelle.
"Because the greatest wizard I know will protect me. That's why I'll be fine."
"..."
At Edith's words, Mirabelle's face looked like she'd opened a jack-in-the-box.
But understanding the meaning, her expression quickly shifted to a troubled smile.
"Good grief, what a carefree fool."
Should she take it as trust, or as a lack of caution?
As Mirabelle pondered this, she noticed Edith staring at her face.
"...What? Do I have something on my face?"
"Not exactly, but... Mirabelle, you've been smiling a lot more lately."
"What?"
"I mean, you smiled before too, but it was more like... looking down on people, mocking them... not really a nice smile. But now you smile so naturally, and your expression is gentler than before."
Mirabelle felt she'd been told something incredibly rude.
She looked slightly disgruntled and pursed her lips.
But she wasn't truly angry—if anything, she looked sulky.
"I'll have to be more careful then..."
"No, you don't need to be careful! Actually, I like the way you smile now much better!"
"..."
Edith said hastily, but Mirabelle's expression grew complicated.
However, she quickly softened and gently stroked Edith's hair.
At the sudden surprise attack, Edith's face turned red as Mirabelle smiled and told her:
"I like you too, Lynnagale."
"—!!"
At this statement—rare for Mirabelle, or rather, unbelievable coming from her—Edith's head spun.
Huh? What? Was this really her character?
Was this actually someone else using Polyjuice Potion? Some kind of prank?
No, wait, they made Polyjuice-reversing potions in Potions class the other day and drank them, but Mirabelle stayed Mirabelle. Plus, Polyjuice would have worn off by now.
She wasn't drinking something at intervals like Mad-Eye did, and anyway Foy-Foy cast Avada Kedavra and Merlin's beard! No good, her thoughts were getting scrambled.
qawsedrftgyhujikolp;@: abababababababa.
As these thoughts swirled chaotically and she no longer knew what she was thinking, Edith noticed Mirabelle watching her with a nasty, smirking grin.
—Got me. Edith instantly realized it, and her face flushed again.
"Heh heh heh... what an innocent reaction. What, do you swing that way or something?"
"Wh-wh-wh-what... of course not!"
"Oh, scary, scary."
Retraction: yep, that's definitely Mirabelle.
Breathing heavily, she gulped down water in one go.
Then she slammed the cup down and glared at Mirabelle with half-lidded eyes.
"You really do have a rotten personality..."
"Hehe, like that's news."
Mirabelle said this and lifted the corner of her mouth in amusement.
What a beautiful smile, Edith thought.
Mirabelle already possessed extraordinary beauty, but this smile was completely different from that.
Even if her face were merely average, this would still be beautiful—it was such a natural, lovely smile.
Infected by it, Edith smiled too.
There, truly, was the sight of age-appropriate friends—nothing false about it.
France, counted among the three great magical nations.
The symbol of order in its wizarding world was the French Ministry of Magic.
Many employees worked there, maintaining the magical community's security daily.
At first glance, it would look like any ordinary day.
But look closely and you'd surely notice the abnormality.
Every single employee had hollow eyes, working mechanically.
Ignoring physical exhaustion, not even conversing with each other as they worked. You'd surely find it abnormal.
But there were no more "humans" who could think so. They'd all been turned into puppets without will.
However, not every living thing in this building was like that.
In this Ministry where everyone seemed to have become machines, two "monsters" walked with full consciousness intact.
"Now the entire French Ministry is under my control. Well, that's all a complacent organization amounts to."
"You're a terrifying monster, you know that? So... now that you have one country, what's your next move?"
The one speaking cheerfully was a wizard in crimson robes concealing his entire body—Nosferatu.
His conversation partner was the former symbol of terror, Grindelwald.
Two monsters who could each shake the entire wizarding world walked brazenly through this building meant for humans.
"Well... I'll work steadily. Despite appearances, I favor methodical effort and caution."
"Bold words. A cautious person wouldn't plan a national takeover."
"No, I am cautious. I can't stand not building things up carefully, one step at a time... especially before targeting Britain, the main prize. I want preparations perfect."
Beneath his robes, Nosferatu twisted his mouth into a crescent.
It was a smile as if his mouth split to his ears—hideous and evil.
No matter how beautiful the exterior, this smile canceled it all out—a face that thrust forward the monstrosity within.
Through that open mouth, fangs gleamed dully, seeking prey.
"You'll head to Ireland next."
"Ireland? ...Ah, I see... you're going to surround Britain."
"Yes. I've already sent subordinates infiltrating, but they seem to be struggling... lend them your power."
France had fallen.
And the next two targets were already decided.
If Voldemort wanted to target Britain, let him.
If Dumbledore wanted to fortify Britain's defenses, let him.
In the meantime, they'd just surround it from outside.
"Meanwhile, I'll crush the German Ministry. We'll attack Britain after that."
The monsters moved beneath the surface—quietly yet boldly. No one could stop them.
There were no angels in this world to stop these devils.
Unused Scene
Malfoy: "You spend holidays at that house, don't you? How can you stand that pigsty?"
Harry: "(irritated)"
Malfoy: "Or Potter, does your mother's scent—"
Romando: "..." GRAB
Malfoy: "Foy?"
Romando: "Wingardium Leviosa! (Physical)" TOSS
Malfoy: "FOOOOOOOY!?"
Harry: "What?! Malfoy just got thrown dozens of meters into the air?!"
Hermione: "Ron, that's not how that spell works!"
Author's Note: So that was everyone's actions beneath the surface. Edith didn't join Dumbledore's Army, but her reason was "because I'm a Slytherin." Regardless of Edith's personal goodness, just having a Slytherin member would create friction. After all, this year's Slytherins are almost all Umbridge supporters. This is where Edith gets the short end of the stick.
By the way, Ron's "let's poison her" line is actually from the original canon.
***
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