Great Hall
Hogwarts School Of WitchCraft and Wizardry
- Scottish Highlands, Scotland
( September, 1995. )

The noise of hundreds of students leaving the Great Hall after breakfast echoed through the corridors of Hogwarts, their chatter blending with the faint clinking of silverware as house-elves began clearing the tables. Fred, George, Lee, Olympia, Cassie, Elvira, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were walking together, their conversation light and casual despite the constant shadow Umbridge cast over the castle.

They were about to part ways when raised voices drew their attention. At the bottom of the marble staircase, Professor McGonagall stood face-to-face with Professor Umbridge, the tension between them crackling like static electricity. The students slowed to a stop, their curiosity piqued by the rare sight of a public argument between two professors.

"Pardon me, Professor," Umbridge said, her voice high-pitched and clipped as her pink cardigan seemed to radiate smugness, "but what exactly are you insinuating?"

McGonagall's expression was severe, her back straight and her voice cool but firm. "I am merely requesting that when it comes to my students... you conform to the prescribed disciplinary practices."

The group exchanged glances, their attention now fully captured.

Umbridge let out a soft, patronizing laugh, raising a hand to adjust her brooch. "So silly of me, but it sounds... as if you're questioning my authority in my own classroom... Minerva."

"I assure you," McGonagall said sharply, her Scottish accent cutting through the corridor, "I am doing no such thing, Dolores. I am, however, questioning your medieval methods."

Fred let out a low whistle under his breath, earning a nudge from George. "I'm loving this," Fred whispered, grinning.

"Shh," Hermione hissed, her eyes glued to the scene.

Umbridge's face twitched, but her sickly sweet smile stayed in place. "I am sorry, dear, but to question my practices is to question the Ministry... and by extension, the minister himself."

Harry's jaw tightened, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists at his sides. Hermione shot him a look, her expression warning him to stay quiet.

"I am a tolerant woman," Umbridge continued, stepping closer to McGonagall, "but the one thing I will not stand for is disloyalty."

The air seemed to grow colder as McGonagall descended one step, her sharp eyes never leaving Umbridge. "Disloyalty," she repeated, her voice as calm as it was cutting.

Umbridge's smile didn't waver, though her eyes glinted with satisfaction as she stepped up two steps, raising her head to look down at McGonagall with an air of authority. "Things at Hogwarts," she said, her voice dripping with false concern, "are far worse than I feared. Cornelius will want to take immediate action."

The students froze, their breath catching as Umbridge's words hung in the air. McGonagall's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing as she regarded the other professor with an almost palpable disdain.

"Action?" Lee whispered, his voice barely audible. "What does she mean, action?"

"Probably more rules," Cassie muttered darkly. "Or more detentions. She'll stop at nothing."

McGonagall drew herself up to her full height, her presence commanding despite the steps separating her from Umbridge. "I suggest you tread carefully, Dolores," she said, her voice low but filled with warning. "This school has thrived for centuries under practices that do not require the Ministry's... interference."

Umbridge's expression hardened, her smile fading slightly. "And yet here we are, Minerva. Perhaps Hogwarts was not as perfect as you believed."

Olympia, standing beside George, felt her anger simmering as she watched the exchange. "She's pushing her," she whispered. "Trying to bait her into saying something."

"And McGonagall's not having it," George murmured back, his admiration for his head of house evident in his tone.

The standoff between the two women continued for a moment longer before McGonagall gave a curt nod, her voice cutting through the silence. "If you'll excuse me, Professor, I have actual work to attend to."

She turned on her heel and strode up the staircase, her robes billowing behind her. Umbridge remained rooted to the spot, her face a mask of barely concealed fury as she watched McGonagall leave.

The students quickly dispersed, not wanting to be caught lingering under Umbridge's sharp gaze. Fred, George, Lee, Olympia, Cassie, Elvira, Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved down the corridor, their voices hushed but urgent.

"That was intense," Lee said, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Umbridge wasn't following them.

"McGonagall was brilliant," Fred added, his grin wide despite the tension in his voice. "Did you see the way she put her in her place?"

"For now," Hermione said quietly. "But Umbridge isn't going to let that slide. She's going to escalate this—I can feel it."

"She already has," Harry muttered darkly, flexing his hand where the faint scars still lingered. "She's trying to turn the entire school into a Ministry puppet."

Ron looked like he was ready to explode. "That pink toad is unbearable. She's got no right to talk to McGonagall like that—or do the things she's doing."

"And yet she's doing them anyway," Olympia said, her voice cold as her anger resurfaced. "Because the Ministry is letting her."

Ginny crossed her arms, her eyes blazing. "Someone needs to put her in her place for good."

Fred's grin returned, though it carried a sharper edge this time. "Don't worry, Ginny. She'll get what's coming to her."

George nodded, his jaw tightening. "We'll make sure of it."

—

Chapter Title: "A New Order"

By midday, the buzz of Professor McGonagall and Professor Umbridge's heated exchange had spread like wildfire through the castle. Students whispered in corridors, their voices hushed with equal parts admiration for McGonagall's composure and fear of what Umbridge's veiled threats could mean. That fear was confirmed just a few hours later.

The steady clang of a hammer echoed through the entrance hall, drawing curious onlookers. A small crowd had already gathered near the base of the grand staircase, craning their necks to see Argus Filch, Hogwarts' ever-grumbling caretaker, standing on a ladder. He was hammering a large parchment onto the wall with unnecessary vigor, muttering under his breath as he worked.

The group of students—including Fred, George, Olympia, Cassie, Seraphina, Lee, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny—pushed their way through the throng to get a better look.

"What now?" Ron muttered, his voice low with irritation.

The parchment gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the high windows. Written in bold, officious script, it read:

Educational Decree No. 23
"Having already revolutionized the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Dolores Umbridge will, as High Inquisitor, have powers to address the seriously falling standards at Hogwarts School."

Fred let out a low whistle, crossing his arms as he read the proclamation. "High Inquisitor, huh? She's really making a name for herself."

"She's consolidating power," Olympia said sharply, her eyes scanning the parchment. "This isn't about standards—it's about control. She wants complete authority over the school."

"Isn't that what she already has?" Cassie asked, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Apparently not enough," Seraphina muttered. "She wants to run the whole place."

Filch stepped down from the ladder, looking more smug than usual. He dusted his hands on his apron and turned to address the gathered students. "Step back, step back!" he barked, his beady eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "The High Inquisitor won't tolerate you lot gawking around like this!"

"High Inquisitor?" Lee said, raising an eyebrow. "She gave herself a promotion?"

"Ministry gave it to her," Hermione corrected, her voice tight. "They're enabling her every step of the way."

Harry's fists clenched at his sides as he glared at the parchment. "This is just the beginning. She's going to start going after the teachers."

"She already has," Ginny said, her tone sharp. "That argument with McGonagall this morning? She's testing how far she can push them."

"And with this," George added, gesturing to the decree, "she's got all the authority she needs."

Fred grinned darkly. "She thinks this is her castle now. Big mistake."

"Fred, don't—" Hermione began, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"I'm not saying anything reckless," Fred said with an exaggerated innocence. "Just stating the obvious. She's playing a dangerous game."

Olympia folded her arms, her gaze fixed on the parchment. "And she's dragging us all into it."

Filch, clearly enjoying himself, began shooing the students away. "Off with you lot! Back to class! Don't you have better things to do than loiter?"

"Don't you?" George shot back, earning a chuckle from the crowd.

Filch's face turned red, and he looked as though he might explode, but before he could say anything, Professor Umbridge herself appeared at the top of the staircase. The crowd fell silent as she descended, her smile wide and triumphant.

"Ah," she said, her voice carrying over the students. "I see you've all noticed the latest decree." She clasped her hands in front of her, her sickly sweet tone doing little to mask the menace beneath her words. "This is an exciting new chapter for Hogwarts—a chance to bring much-needed structure and discipline to this historic institution."

"Structure?" Ginny muttered under her breath, her fingers curling into fists. "She means dictatorship."

"Discipline," Fred whispered back, "sounds a lot like detention."

Umbridge's eyes swept over the crowd, lingering briefly on Harry before moving to Fred and George. "I trust you will all support these necessary measures," she said, her voice dripping with false politeness. "After all, we are all striving for the same goal: the betterment of Hogwarts."

Olympia's jaw tightened, and she had to resist the urge to speak out. Instead, she exchanged a look with George, whose expression mirrored her own seething anger.

As the students began to disperse, Umbridge turned to Filch with a satisfied nod. "Excellent work, Mr. Filch. I'll be sure to note your dedication in my next report to the Ministry."

Filch puffed up with pride, muttering a sycophantic, "Thank you, Professor."

The group walked away together, their footsteps echoing in the stone corridor. The silence between them was heavy, each of them processing what they had just seen.

"She's going to take over everything," Cassie said finally, breaking the quiet. "Classes, rules, detentions—everything."

"And no one's stopping her," Seraphina added, her tone bitter.

"They will," Harry said, his voice low and firm. "One way or another, she won't get away with this."

Fred and George exchanged a look, their mischievous grins returning, though there was a sharper edge to them now. "No one's stopping her yet," George said.

"Exactly," Fred added. "But that doesn't mean we won't."

Olympia glanced between the twins, her anger simmering beneath the surface. "Just don't do anything reckless," she warned, though the fire in her eyes betrayed her own frustration.

Fred smirked, slinging an arm over her shoulder. "Reckless? Us? Never."

The tension lingered in the air as they walked through the corridors, each of them lost in their own thoughts. The day had taken a turn for the worse, and no one could shake the feeling that things were only going to escalate from here.

As they made their way toward the next class, Olympia couldn't help but feel the weight of everything bearing down on her. Umbridge's grip on the school had tightened, and the worst part was, they were all just waiting for the next move. She wasn't sure how much longer McGonagall could hold her ground—or how long their group could continue to fight back without making their lives even more difficult than they already were.

"Alright, let's try to focus on class for now," Hermione said, breaking the silence. "We've got enough to deal with in our lessons without adding more trouble to the mix."

"Yeah," Lee agreed, though his voice lacked its usual lightheartedness. "We all need to keep our heads down for a bit. If we don't, Umbridge will have an excuse to start meddling in our lives too."

Olympia nodded, her thoughts racing. She wanted to do something—anything—to get ahead of Umbridge before she took complete control. But what could they do? The Ministry was backing her, and the staff seemed to be walking on eggshells. McGonagall had stood up to her today, but how long would that last? There was only so much one person could do.

As they entered their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, the group settled into their usual seats, and Olympia's thoughts began to drift again. Her gaze met George's across the room, and he offered her a small, reassuring smile. She knew he was feeling the same frustration—he always did, but he was better at hiding it behind his playful banter.

The lesson started with a sharp rattle of the door as Professor Umbridge swept in, her pink cardigan practically glowing in the dimly lit room. Her presence seemed to drain the energy from the class as she placed her things on her desk with far more deliberation than necessary. The students exchanged weary glances.

"Good morning, class," she said, her voice sweet, but the coldness in her eyes made it clear that she wasn't interested in pleasantries. "Today we will begin a new chapter in your studies. With the recent changes at Hogwarts, I've decided we need to focus more on the proper way to defend ourselves. The Ministry believes that certain subjects have been... misinterpreted."

Olympia clenched her jaw. Of course, she was talking about the "incorrect" ways Defense Against the Dark Arts had been taught in the past. The Ministry's version of events. The students exchanged glances once again, but no one dared speak.

Umbridge flipped open a book in front of her, casting a glance at the class. "We'll start with something simple today: theory." She smiled, but the smile was tight and fake. "In fact, you'll do no actual spellwork until I'm confident that you understand the correct procedures. The Ministry is very clear on that."

"What a surprise," Fred muttered under his breath, earning an elbow from George.

"Keep it down," George whispered, but even he couldn't hide the frustration in his voice.

Umbridge, of course, was oblivious to their comments, her gaze fixed on the blackboard as she started scribbling down definitions of spells and incantations, none of which looked remotely useful or challenging. It was clear that today's lesson wasn't about learning—it was about compliance.

"Turn to page three," she instructed, her voice still sugary-sweet. "And write down the Ministry's definitions of Dark Arts and the correct procedures for handling them. I expect each of you to demonstrate complete understanding."

Olympia rolled her eyes but dutifully opened her book. The room was stifling, the air heavy with suppressed frustration. She glanced again at George, who seemed just as annoyed as she was. At least they weren't alone in their discontent.

As the class dragged on, Olympia's mind wandered. She knew the Ministry's version of "defense" wasn't going to help them when the real threat came knocking. And Umbridge's iron grip on the school was only going to make everything harder. They needed to fight back, but how? With the stakes higher than ever, they couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of class, Olympia felt exhausted—not physically, but mentally. She didn't know how much longer they could keep pretending everything was normal, especially with Umbridge tightening her grip on Hogwarts more and more.

George sidled up next to her as they filed out of the classroom. "That was as fun as I expected," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, I think I've forgotten how to learn anything that's actually useful," Olympia replied dryly. "If we don't do something soon, we're all going to end up completely useless."

"Don't worry," George said with a grin. "We'll think of something. We always do." He winked at her before slipping away to join Fred and the others.

Olympia couldn't help but feel a little comforted by his words, even if she didn't entirely believe them. The situation was getting more dire by the minute, but if anyone could make a stand against Umbridge and the Ministry, it was them.

And maybe—just maybe—she could play a part in it.

As the day went on, the oppressive weight of Umbridge's decree continued to hang over the students like a storm cloud. Whispers in corridors, glances exchanged in classrooms, and the muffled voices of students arguing in hidden corners were all reminders that the battle for Hogwarts wasn't over—it was just beginning.

And Olympia had a feeling that this was only the beginning of a much bigger fight.