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The truth was out, and the looks people were shooting Umbridge could have drawn blood. They would have gladly skinned her alive.
If it weren't for this pink toad and her spectacular stupidity, none of them would be in this mess.
Still shaken, they stared at her the way you'd look at a corpse.
Fudge was staring too, jaw slack.
He swore on everything he held dear , he'd only meant to rattle Hermione a little. Put the girl in her place. Nothing more. After all, Dumbledore had sent his most trusted Snape along as escort. That alone showed how much the old man valued her. Who in their right mind would push further than that?
Apparently, Umbridge.
The woman had the nerve to actually torture her. Secretly. Behind his back.
Umbridge's face had gone the color of old bone. Her lips trembled, but nothing came out.
She was used to running roughshod over everyone at the Ministry. Besides Fudge, who had ever dared to check her? This sort of under-the-table interrogation was nothing new for her , she'd done it plenty of times. A Muggle-born student, she'd figured. Even if it hurt, Hermione wouldn't dare make a scene.
So what if the girl had taken down Quirrell? Two elite Aurors plus herself was more than enough to handle one student, quietly and cleanly.
She simply hadn't counted on Hermione being that hard. She hadn't counted on Hermione actually having the power to back it up.
Fudge thought it through and felt his stomach sink.
Umbridge. He'd always seen her as loyal. Reliable. He'd forgotten she wasn't smart. If he hadn't lifted her up himself, she'd never have reached this position. So of course she'd misread Dumbledore's message entirely.
Sending Snape was a warning. It said: the Ministry will not touch this girl.
Not that Fudge had read it right either, of course. He'd thought it meant Dumbledore was watching out for Hermione.
He hadn't realized Snape's actual job was watching the Ministry, specifically to make sure Hermione didn't decide to level it.
The silence around her was thick and freezing, almost physical. Even Umbridge, for all her density, understood she was finished.
But survival instinct has a funny way of making people stupid right when they need to be smart.
"No! It wasn't me — it was her!" Umbridge's arm shot out, pointing straight at Hermione. "That prophecy! She faked it! She's trying to bring back You-Know-Who , she planned all of this! She's been working with him from the start!"
Her eyes darted around the room, searching desperately for a single face that wasn't closed against her.
"She staged this whole thing! She wanted an excuse to attack the Ministry!"
Silence.
Idiot. The thought rang through every head in the room.
She was rambling. Obviously. Frantically throwing out anything to dodge responsibility. And even setting aside how insane it sounded, even if any of it were true, you couldn't just say it out loud like that! Lockhart had practically handed her a ladder to climb down gracefully, and she was busy kicking it over.
Was she trying to get them all killed?
How did this woman ever become Deputy Minister?
Networking? Flattery? Sheer brass?
Can you even work at this Ministry with a straight face?
The Aurors were fuming internally, each one wishing they could stitch her mouth shut.
"That's enough."
She opened her mouth to keep going. Tom moved first , a quick, decisive spell, and her voice cut off mid-word.
Blessed silence.
Lockhart cleared his throat and turned to Hermione. "Now that the truth is out, I'd consider it a personal favor if you'd release the Minister and our Aurors. I give you my word , you'll have a satisfactory answer."
Hermione smiled. "Normally? I'd say no."
"But since you're asking, Professor Lockhart — I'll make an exception for you."
She raised her hand and waved it once, lightly. The Mirror Space fractured apart, and the world snapped back to normal.
The wave of relief that passed through the crowd was almost audible.
Fudge pulled himself together, shot Umbridge one final look of pure contempt, and turned to Hermione with a smile that worked very hard to look genuine. "Miss , Madam Witch, I must sincerely apologize. This was all a terrible misunderstanding."
"As a gesture of goodwill, any magical artifacts the Ministry has confiscated over the years , they're yours. Take whatever you like. We won't be stingy."
Hermione gave a small nod. Noncommittal.
Nearby, Snape's expression was difficult to read. His gaze moved between Lockhart and Hermione more than once. He said nothing.
Fudge exhaled and immediately turned to his people. "Quickly , escort Madam Witch to the Department of Mysteries. Make sure she has everything she needs."
Several Aurors snapped to attention and moved to guide Hermione down the hall.
---
Once she was gone, the last of the tension drained out of Fudge's body. He looked at Lockhart with something close to genuine gratitude.
"We owe this to you, Director Lockhart."
Lockhart smiled modestly. "Minister, you're far too kind. I only did what I should. And the title , I'm just the Deputy Director."
Fudge waved that off with real conviction. "No. I mean Director. Director Lockhart."
He paused to let that land, then continued, his tone serious and measured. "The Deputy Head of Magical Law Enforcement is apparently planning to retire. The position will need to be filled. I've been trying to think of the right person for some time now, and I kept coming up blank."
"Would you be willing to take on that role in the interim, Director Lockhart? Just until a formal appointment is made."
Lockhart looked appropriately startled and immediately began to protest. "Minister, really, I couldn't , my qualifications are modest at best, my experience is thin, I could hardly presume to, "
"The capable carry more weight," Fudge said firmly. "Don't refuse."
The Aurors around them jumped in without being asked.
"Director Lockhart, there's no one else we'd follow!"
"That's right, don't turn it down — we're all behind you!"
"This Ministry needs people like you!"
Lockhart let the moment settle, then smiled faintly and said nothing more.
Fudge's attention shifted to Ethan. His expression warmed. "Truly, the younger generation never stops surprising me. Director Lockhart had real vision, recruiting a talent like you."
Ethan shook his head deferentially. "I still have a long way to go compared to Director Lockhart. He taught the witch, after all." His face was open, earnest , the kind of face that made you believe in things like justice.
Fudge looked genuinely moved. "Having Director Lockhart and Team Leader Ethan both at the Ministry , it's a gift. Probably the best decision I've made in my career."
He paused, and something cautious crossed his face. "Frankly... if you two hadn't been here today, I think we'd be standing in a crater right now."
Then his gaze found Umbridge.
The warmth drained out of his expression completely.
"This one," he said, voice flat and cold, "I'll leave entirely to Director Lockhart."
Lockhart nodded.
Strictly speaking, today's disaster hadn't been Umbridge's fault alone. Fudge had given the original order to intimidate Hermione. Umbridge was his own promoted loyalist. He bore part of this.
But leaders don't carry their own failures. That's not how it works.
That's what subordinates are for. When they make a mess, they clean it up, or they take the fall. Either way, they repay the favor of being elevated in the first place. It's practically tradition.
Umbridge understood this perfectly well. Her face was gray. Her eyes were hollow.
Two Aurors gripped her arms and dragged her out, and the crowd watched until she disappeared.
Then it was over.
People exhaled. Some looked at the wreckage still surrounding them and felt something between relief and disbelief , a quiet, bone-deep gratitude that they were still there to see it.
➤ Next: I Am Voldemort, V Me 50
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