Harry Potter and the Great Old Ones

Chapter 473 Taking the Blame
After saying that, the tarot cards remained silent.

Harry struggled to look away from his tarot cards and glanced at the people who were frozen in shock.

"What are you waiting for?" Harry yelled. "Run!"

They all rushed to the exit immediately, crowding together at the doorway, and then someone suddenly dashed out.

Harry heard them running wildly down the corridor and hoped they were smart enough not to keep running all the way back to their dorms.

The chances of that are too slim; the library and the owl hut are much closer, if they could just sneak inside—

"Harry, run!" Hermione screamed through the crowd struggling to push her way out, then quickly darted away.

Harry glanced to both sides; the others had run so fast that he could only catch a glimpse of their heels flying before they disappeared at either end of the corridor.

He started running to the right; there was a men's restroom ahead. If he could get there, he could pretend he had been there the whole time.

"Ouch!" Something tripped him up, and he fell down, sliding six feet on the ground before coming to a stop.

Someone laughed behind him.

He turned over and saw Malfoy hiding in a niche beneath an ugly dragon-shaped decorative vase.

“A tripping spell, Potter!” Malfoy exclaimed. “Hey, Professor—Professor! Professor! I’ve caught one!”

Umbridge hurried around the corner in the distance, panting but with a happy smile on her face.

"It's him!" she exclaimed gleefully upon seeing Harry on the floor. "Excellent, Draco, excellent, ha, wonderful—fifty points for Slytherin! I'll take him away... Get up, Potter!"

Harry stood up and glared at the two of them.

He had never seen Umbridge so happy. She gripped his arm tightly like a vise and turned to Malfoy with a beaming smile.

“Go and see if you can catch a few more, Draco,” she said. “Get the rest of you to the library—check if there are any people out of breath—check the lavatories, Miss Romanoff can check the girls’ lavatories—you go—and you—”

As Malfoy walked away, Umbridge added in the gentlest yet most frightening tone, "You're coming with me to the Great Hall, Potter."

Harry was practically dragged, half-pulled, by Umbridge to the Great Hall. Along the way, Harry could see other members of Dumbledore's Army being led to the Great Hall by other members of the Disciplined Service, either being pulled or bound by spells.

When Harry arrived at the Great Hall, he found it packed with people.

Dumbledore sat at the head of the classroom with a smile on his face, his thin fingers tapping the table absently.

Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick stood straight in front of the faculty seats, blocking Dumbledore's view, their eyes fixed on the dark mass of people in the Great Hall with a wary and hostile gaze.

Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge stood at the very back of the crowd, swaying back and forth excitedly, clearly very satisfied with the current situation.

Among the crowd that filled the Great Hall, standing at the front were Kingsley Shackleton and another wizard who looked like a guard. The wizard was strong-looking with short, straight hair, and Harry had never seen him before.

The other people in the hall all seemed to be Aurors. Although their clothes were all strange and varied, everyone stood up straight and their expressionless faces gave off a sense of menace, as if they had fought their way out of a bloodbath.

Freckled and wearing glasses, Percy Weasley paced excitedly along the wall, a quill pen and a thick roll of parchment in his hand, clearly ready to take notes at any moment.

Following Harry were the other members of Dumbledore's Army—

Neville, Hermione, Ron, Seamus, Dean, Cho Chang, Luna...

Most of them were brought in by Hathaway Romanov, and most of them had very obvious injuries on their bodies.

After the door closed, Harry angrily shook off Umbridge, who was holding him tightly.

Cornelius Fudge glared at him angrily, a gloating expression on his face.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay, okay, okay.”

Harry mustered all his courage and glared fiercely at Fudge. His heart was pounding, but his mind was surprisingly calm and clear.

“He’s on his way back to the Gryffindor Tower,” Umbridge said, her tone carrying an inappropriate excitement.

“Really? Really?” Fudge said approvingly. “I’ll have to remember to tell Lucius. Well, Potter, I think you know why you’re here, don’t you?”

Harry had made up his mind to reply dismissively with "I know," but when he caught a glimpse of Dumbledore's expression, he had already opened his mouth and was only halfway through uttering the word.

Dumbledore simply smiled at him, leaning back in his seat as calmly as ever, and gently shook his head, a movement so subtle it was almost imperceptible.

Harry changed his mind halfway through his sentence.

"Knowing—but not knowing."

“Excuse me, what did you say?” Fudge said.

“I don’t know,” Harry said firmly.

"You don't know why you're here?" Fudge asked incredulously.

“Yes, I don’t know,” Harry said.

Fudge looked at Harry with a puzzled expression, then glanced at Professor Umbridge.

Taking advantage of his momentary lapse in attention, Harry glanced at Dumbledore again. Dumbledore nodded with the slightest movement, winked slightly, and made a face.

Harry suddenly felt at ease.

“So you don’t understand,” Fudge said with undisguised sarcasm, “why Professor Umbridge brought you to this office? Don’t you realize you’ve broken the school rules?”

"School rules?" Harry said. "No."

"What about the Ministry of Magic's laws?" Fudge asked angrily, changing his tone.

“At least I haven’t violated any laws I know of,” Harry said calmly.

His heart was still pounding rapidly.

It was worth lying to see how Fudge's blood pressure would rise, but he couldn't figure out how to escape their punishment. If someone had already leaked the DA information to Umbridge, then he, as the leader, might have to pack his bags and leave immediately.

“So, this is the first time you’ve heard of this,” Fudge said, his tone now filled with anger, “that an illegal student organization has been discovered in this school?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Harry said, his face showing disbelief, as if he knew nothing about it and was very surprised.

“Minister,” Umbridge said gently beside Harry, “I think if I bring the whistleblower along, perhaps our progress will be faster.”

“Yes, yes, go ahead.” Fudge nodded and said. After Umbridge left the room, he gave Dumbledore a malicious look. “Nothing beats a good witness, does it, Dumbledore?”

“Exactly, Cornelius,” Dumbledore nodded, his voice low. Everyone waited a few minutes, no one looking at anyone else, then Harry heard the door behind him open.

Umbridge walked into the house from beside him, gripping tightly the shoulder of Cho Chang's curly-haired friend, Marietta.

“Don’t panic, darling, don’t be afraid,” Professor Umbridge said gently, patting her back. “It’s alright now. You did the right thing. The minister is very pleased with you. He’ll tell your mother you’re a good girl.”

“Minister, Marietta’s mother,” she added, looking up at Fudge, “is Mrs. Eckmore of the Frodo Network Office of the Department of Magical Transport. You know, she’s helping us monitor the hearths at Hogwarts.”

“Great, great!” Fudge said enthusiastically. “Like mother, like daughter, uh? Okay, tell us, hurry up, darling, lift your head, don’t be shy, let us hear what you have to say.”

“Yes, it’s like this…” Marietta didn’t dare look at Harry and the others, her eyes fixed on Cornelius Fudge. “Last semester… around December… Hermione suddenly called us together… saying Harry was going to teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts… so we went to the party… and then… and then… and then we found out that the one teaching us was—”

“I’ll handle the rest,” Umbridge said with a sweet smile. “It’s like this, Minister. Tonight, this Miss Ekmo came to my office shortly after dinner and told me she had something to tell me. She said that if I went into a secret room on the eighth floor, I would find something that would be good for me. This secret room is sometimes called the Room of Requirement. When I questioned her further, she admitted that there was some kind of gathering there and said she would be willing to take us there.”

“Oh, is that so?” Fudge said, looking at Marietta with what he thought was a kind and benevolent expression. “You went to inform Professor Umbridge, my dear, that was very brave of you. You did the right thing. Now, would you like to tell me what happened at the party? What was the purpose of the party? Who was there?”

“I’ve seized their notebooks here.” With that, Umbridge waved her wand, and several thick notebooks flew out from somewhere and landed lightly in front of Cornelius Fudge.

“Minister, take a look,” Umbridge said. “Look at these notebooks! They’re using arithmetic formulas instead of Latin and ancient runes to learn spells and ritual magic—that’s the behavior of a demon wizard! And these notes—what revolution, what reform, what distribution of the means of production, what feudal landlords—these are all cancerous ideas! Dumbledore is poisoning these young wizards both magically and ideologically!”

"You may recall, Minister, that I reported to you in October that Potter had met with many of his classmates at the Hog's Head pub in Hogsmeade—"

"Do you have any evidence for this?" Professor McGonagall interjected.

“I have Willie Widsing’s testimony, Minerva, he happened to be in the bar at the time. He was indeed wrapped in many bandages, but his hearing was completely unaffected,” Umbridge said smugly. “He heard everything Potter said and rushed straight to the school to report to me—”

"Oh, so that's why he was spared prosecution for the sewage backflow incident he caused!" Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows and said, "Our judicial system is truly eye-opening!"

“Potter met with these students,” Professor Umbridge continued, “to persuade them to join an illegal group whose goal was to learn spells, curses, and how to summon demons, and to spread toxic ideas with the intention of overthrowing the Ministry of Magic!”

“I think you’ll find yourself wrong on this point, Dolores,” Dumbledore said softly, his half-moon spectacles drooping over his high nose as he stared at Umbridge from above.

Harry looked at Dumbledore. He couldn't think of anything Dumbledore could say to get him out of this predicament. If Willie Weedsing had indeed heard every word he said in the Hog's Head, then he was completely out of options.

“Aha!” Fudge said, hopping and skipping on his tiptoes like a clown. “Well, here comes another bizarre theory to get Potter out of this mess. Let us hear it! Go on, Dumbledore, keep going—was Willie Wedsing lying? Or was it Potter’s identical twin brother at the Hog’s Head? Or is it the usual simple explanation, like time reversed, a dead man came back to life, and there are two invisible Dementors?”

Percy Weasley burst into laughter.

"Wow, that's wonderful, Minister! Absolutely brilliant!"

Harry really wanted to kick him. But to his surprise, he saw Dumbledore smiling gently. “Cornell, I neither denied nor confirmed whether Harry was at the Hog’s Head that day, or whether he was trying to recruit students for the Defense Against the Dark Arts. I was merely pointing out that Dolores’ suggestion that such a group was illegal at the time was completely unreasonable. If you haven’t forgotten, the Ministry of Magic’s ban on all student societies didn’t take effect until two days after Harry’s Hogsmeade gathering, so he didn’t break any rules while he was at the Hog’s Head.”

Percy looked as if he had been hit in the face by something very heavy, and Fudge stopped mid-jump with his mouth wide open.

Umbridge was the first to come to his senses.

“These are all good, Principal,” she said with a kind smile. “But we’ve been implementing Education Order No. 24 for almost six months now. While the first gathering wasn’t illegal, all gatherings since then have certainly been illegal.”

“And we also seized a list!” Umbridge said angrily. To Harry’s horror, she pulled a list from her pocket that was nailed to the wall of the Room of Requirement and handed it to Fudge. “As soon as I saw Potter’s name on this list, I knew who we were dealing with.”

“That’s fantastic,” Fudge said, a smile returning to his face. “That’s fantastic, Dolores, let me see, oh my goodness!”

“Look at the name they’ve given themselves?” Fudge whispered. “DA… Dumbledore’s Army! This is your army, Dumbledore!”

"No! That's not right!" Harry exclaimed anxiously. "No, it means—"

“I’m glad you’re willing to defend me, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore interrupted Harry. “It’s very noble, but it clearly says on this paper, Dumbledore’s Army, not Potter’s Army.”

"You?" Cornelius Fudge exclaimed in surprise.

“That’s right,” Dumbledore said cheerfully and casually.

Professor McGonagall and Flitwick looked at Dumbledore with surprise.

"Did you organize this?" Cornelius Fudge asked excitedly.

“It was me who organized it,” Dumbledore said.

"You recruit these students to join your army?"

“Of course, we’ve been training them for a while now,” Dumbledore nodded. “And to be honest, these kids are very bright, and the training has already had some effect.”

“Then you are indeed plotting against me!” Cornelius Fudge shouted, his chest heaving violently.

“That’s right,” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “I’ve had enough of seeing so many mediocre people sitting in the Minister of Magic’s seat.”

“No!” Harry cried. Kingsley, who was standing at the front, quickly gave him a warning look. Professor McGonagall opened her eyes wide and warned him, but Harry suddenly realized Dumbledore’s intention and he couldn’t let him do it.

"No—Professor Dumbledore—"

"Shh..." Dumbledore put a finger to his lips, "Shh..."

"Weasley, have you written all of this down? What he said, his statement, have you taken notes?"

“Yes, sir, I think so, sir!” Percy said eagerly. He splattered ink all over his nose as he jotted down notes.

"He wanted to build an army to fight the Ministry of Magic; he wanted to overthrow me. Is this recorded?"

“Yes, sir, I’ve got it! Yes!” Percy said, glancing happily through the notes.

“Very well,” Fudge said, now beaming with delight, “make a copy of your record, Weasley, and send it to the Daily Prophet immediately. If we send a fast owl, we might even make it to this morning’s edition!”

Percy ran out of the house quickly, slamming the door shut behind him. Fudge turned to Dumbledore and said, "You are now being taken to the Ministry of Magic, where you will be formally charged and then sent to Azkaban to await trial!"

“Ah,” Dumbledore said softly, “yes. However, I think we may have encountered a small difficulty.”

“Difficulties?” Fudge said, his voice still trembling with excitement. “I don’t see any difficulties, Dumbledore!”

“Hmm—you seem to have the misconception that I would—what’s that saying again? Oh right, wait to die. I’m afraid I’m not going to wait to die at all, Cornelius. I have no desire to be sent to Azkaban. Of course, I could escape—but what a waste of time, and frankly, I remember I have a lot of things to do, and I’d much rather do those.” Dumbledore stood up easily, waving his hand as if to signal Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick to step aside.

Trusting Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall moved aside, as did Professor Flitwick.

Umbridge's face grew increasingly red, and she looked as if she had been filled with scalding hot water.

Fudge stared at Dumbledore with a dumbfounded expression, as if he had been suddenly stunned and simply couldn't believe that such a thing had happened.

“Very good, Dolores Umbridge.” Dumbledore smiled at Umbridge. “I see you’ve taken my advice and brought nearly two-thirds of the Aurors from the Ministry of Magic for the New Year, that’s good… but if I remember correctly… I suggested you bring all the Aurors from the Ministry of Magic.”

"Enough!" Umbridge roared viciously. "Arrest him!"

(End of this chapter)