The sky outside the castle had lost its earlier crystalline clarity. It had transformed into a murky, oppressive deep blue that hung heavy over the Scottish Highlands, foreboding rain. Dark clouds gathered on the horizon like bruises spreading across the heavens.
Down on the school grounds far below, there was quite a sudden commotion near the blue Beauxbatons carriage that stood out against the darkening landscape.
The Abraxans that pulled the carriage had suddenly grown temperamental and aggressive. They were rearing and struggling violently against Hagrid, who was desperately trying to feed them their evening meal while maintaining control of their bridles.
"What's going on here, Hagrid? What has upset them?" Madame Maxime's concerned voice carried up to the castle windows. Sensing the unusual disturbance and hearing the horses' distressed whinnying, she hurried down from the carriage's steps.
"Oh, just a small problem, Olympe! Nothing to worry about—I'll have it all sorted out in no time!" Hagrid called up to her with forced confidence, clutching a heavy wine barrel awkwardly in one enormous hand while the other struggled desperately with one horse's bridle as it tossed its head.
He tried to puff out his broad chest reassuringly, attempting to project competence and control over the situation.
But under Madame Maxime's suspicious and penetrating gaze, Hagrid's confidence quickly wilted like a flower in snow.
He reluctantly released the bridle, letting the agitated horse pull free, and admitted breathlessly with guilt, "These fellows of yours pulling the carriage are mighty clever, Olympe. Too clever by half, really. I just added a bit of water to their malt whisky to stretch the supply—we're running low, you see. Don't be angry with me, Olympe—I swear on Buckbeak's life it was only a tiny bit! They shouldn't have even noticed!"
Hagrid's voice grew increasingly weaker and more apologetic with each word, trailing off into an embarrassed mumble.
The four young wizards—Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville standing pressed together at one of the fourth-floor corridor windows, craning their necks to observe the scene below, could no longer hear what was being said as the conversation dropped to quieter tones.
The distance was too great. So, they gradually withdrew their curious heads back inside the castle.
They exchanged troubled glances with one another in the dimming corridor light. Under normal circumstances, this incident with Hagrid diluting expensive whisky and getting caught would have been rather amusing. But considering Hogwarts' current dire predicament, the desperate cost-cutting measures it represented, none of them could muster even a hint of a smile.
The humor was lost in the shadow of larger concerns.
Even the Abraxans were suffering from budget cuts.
"Let's go," Hermione said gloomily, her voice flat and defeated as she spoke first before leading the way forward down the corridor. "We still have things to do tonight."
A oppressive, heavy mood settled over these children who worried deeply about Hogwarts' uncertain fate.
To properly understand the complex relationship between the Board of Governors and Hogwarts, they had spent the entire afternoon in the library immediately after classes ended. They still needed to eat a proper dinner and complete their evening run around the grounds before curfew.
The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, usually so magnificent and awe-inspiring, now reflected the turbid, stormy night sky gathering outside. Students at the four house tables were all whispering about something, their voices creating an anxious buzz throughout the vast space.
The atmosphere completely lacked its usual cheerfulness and energy.
Harry glanced critically at the food spread across the Gryffindor table as they approached. Both the quantity and variety were far more meager than usual—even worse than breakfast had been.
"What's happening? What are you all discussing so intensely?" Ron asked with concern as he approached their usual spot at the table.
He noticed his younger sister Ginny and her friend Colin with their heads pressed close together, deep in conversation. He frowned slightly, somewhat displeased at being out of the loop, and leaned over them to ask directly.
"Oh, you don't know yet??" Ginny looked up at her brother with surprise.
Before Ginny and Colin could explain properly, Ernie Macmillan from the neighboring Hufflepuff table, who was always eager to be the first to spread news and gossip, leaned over and exclaimed loudly enough for half the hall to hear, "Hogwarts is facing a serious financial crisis!!"
"How do you know that? Who told you?" Harry asked, surprised by the information spreading so quickly. He'd thought it was still somewhat secret.
"Isn't it obvious to anyone with eyes?" Ernie pointed dismissively at the sparse dining table spread before them, gesturing at the limited food.
"This afternoon during our Herbology class, Cedric asked Professor Sprout directly about what was happening," Hannah beside Ernie interjected, turning around in her seat to face them. Her face was pale with worry.
"You all noticed that today's breakfast and lunch weren't nearly as abundant as usual, right? And many professors have started having students practice in groups during class to conserve materials. Cedric found it strange and concerning, so he went to ask Professor Sprout after class. That's when he was told that the school is experiencing some operational difficulties."
Hannah's careful account was closer to what Cedric had actually learned directly from Professor Sprout's explanation, but Ernie's more dramatic words were ironically closer to the actual truth of the serious matter.
"Did Professor Sprout tell Cedric what the school plans to do about this?" Neville asked, frowning deeply with concern and leaning forward to hear the answer.
"Professor Sprout said that Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson are working on finding a solution to the crisis," Hannah reported, tilting her chin toward the empty seats at the staff table high above them.
Not only were Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson absent from their usual places, but Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout were missing as well.
Working on finding a solution? A burning sense of humiliation rose unexpectedly in Harry's chest, making his face flush with anger. What were the two professors planning to do—surrender to the Board of Governors' demands?
"I'd rather starve to death than let that horrible toad woman come teach at Hogwarts!" Neville clenched his fists, his face was pale as he said through gritted teeth.
"This is absolutely outrageous! Completely unacceptable!" Hermione's face had turned livid with anger. Her hands trembled slightly as she gripped the edge of the table.
Meanwhile, Ron looked utterly bewildered and somewhat lost, clearly having no idea at all how to even begin approaching the current predicament or what anyone could possibly do about financial problems of this magnitude.
But honestly, it wasn't just Ron who felt helpless. What could a group of children really do about serious financial problems involving thousands of galleons?
The group slowly squeezed into their usual places at the table, sitting down on the benches. They picked halfheartedly at their meager food without any real enthusiasm or appetite, pushing pieces around their plates while listening to the nearly identical worried discussions about Hogwarts' crisis echoing all around them from every direction.
Harry noticed with some surprise that he hadn't heard anyone mention specifically who had actually instigated this crisis.
From the looks of the situation, from what Hannah had said, the only realistic way to resolve this problem was for Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson to somehow successfully persuade the Board of Governors to continue their financial investment in the school.
Besides the Board of Governors, which brought together the wealthiest and most powerful families in the entire British wizarding world, who else could possibly bear such enormous ongoing expenses? Who had that kind of money?
But apart from meekly accepting whoever the Board appointed as professors, accepting Umbridge or worse into the faculty—Harry couldn't think of any way they could actually convince the Board to willingly continue providing funds.
His troubled gaze wandered aimlessly around the Great Hall, taking in the worried faces of students from all four houses. Suddenly, Harry spotted Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout—not seated at the staff table where they should be, but instead descending the side steps that led down toward the Entrance Hall below.
Both professors wore their formal traveling robes rather than their usual teaching attire, and Professor Sprout still had on that dusty, heavily patched pointed hat of hers that she always wore for official business outside the castle.
Their expressions were unusually serious and grim, and they were clearly preparing to leave the castle on some important errand.
On an inexplicable impulse that he couldn't quite explain even to himself, Harry suddenly jumped up from his bench with a scraping sound. Under the astonished, startled gazes of Ron, Hermione, Neville and the other students nearby, Harry hurried away from the table and toward the Entrance Hall, half-running.
"Professor McGonagall! Professor Sprout! Wait!" Harry called out urgently.
His shout stopped the two professors who had just exited through the massive castle doors and were about to descend the steps into the darkness outside.
"Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall turned at the sound of her name. Hearing Harry's call, both professors stopped and turned to face him with surprise.
Professor McGonagall looked Harry up and down critically, her sharp eyes assessing him through her spectacles, and inquired with a mixture of concern and curiosity, "Is there something you need, Mr. Potter? Has something happened?"
"Are you going to negotiate with the Board of Governors too?" Harry blurted out the question without really thinking it through, the words were tumbling out in a rush. Behind him, he could hear his friends' footsteps as they caught up.
"Oh, Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed in surprise. "You already know about the Board of Governors suspending funding?"
"I imagine it was Miss Granger who informed you and researched the details, wasn't it?" Professor Sprout interjected with a knowing smile, her kind eyes twinkling as she looked at the group of students who had followed Harry over, clustering behind him.
Looking at the several young, earnest faces before them with their worried, anxious eyes and obvious concern for the school's wellbeing, Professor McGonagall's stern expression softened considerably, her face was gentling.
She pressed her lips together thoughtfully for a moment before explaining.
"The delicate negotiations with the Board of Governors are being handled by Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Watson, Mr. Potter. Professor Sprout and I have other business to attend to."
"What is it?"
Harry asked directly, perhaps too bluntly, but Professor McGonagall didn't consider his question impolite or inappropriate given the circumstances. She seemed to understand his genuine concern.
"Professor Sprout and I are traveling to Hogsmeade village," she explained patiently. "We have an appointment with the shopkeepers and villagers there to request that they continue supplying Hogwarts normally with food and other necessities. As for their payment—" she paused, "—Hogwarts will settle all accounts with them once we've successfully weathered this crisis."
In other words, buying on credit and running up debts. Harry immediately understood.
Without really thinking about the consequences or planning what to say, Harry spoke impulsively from the heart: "I still have some galleons in my vault at Gringotts, Professor. If Hogwarts needs it, you can use all of it."
Worried that Professor McGonagall might refuse his offer out of principle, Harry quickly added with earnest determination, "Sirius won't let me go hungry."
Hermione, Ron, and Neville all turned to stare at Harry in complete shock. They were totally unprepared for him to make such a generous, selfless offer, without hesitation.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout were equally surprised by the offer, both women's eyes were widening. When she recovered from her initial shock, Professor McGonagall was moved. Her eyes grew bright behind her spectacles, and she had to reach up to dab at her nose with a handkerchief she pulled from her robes.
Most unusually, she reached out and patted Harry warmly on the shoulder. She said with affection and gratitude in her voice,
"Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Potter. However, I must tell you that Hogwarts hasn't fallen to such desperate depths yet, thankfully. The school's vaults still contain a considerable amount of galleons—enough to sustain operations for some time if we're careful and prudent."
She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "Of course, it must be used with very careful planning and budgeting. Every expenditure must be justified. But I believe that before this reserve of galleons runs out, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson will have resolved the problem. Professor Watson promised me this personally, and I have complete faith in his word."
Having said this with conviction, Professor McGonagall gave the anxiously concerned young wizards a reassuring, confident smile to comfort them, then turned and hurried off into the darkness with Professor Sprout beside her.
Harry stood watching them go, the blazing flames from the torches mounted on both side of the entrance illuminating his face in flickering orange light, mirroring the fury and helplessness burning intensely in his heart at that moment. He felt useless, unable to help.
Behind him, new sounds came from the Great Hall—voices and footsteps were approaching.
Hermione alertly turned to look over her shoulder and saw Snape emerging from the hall. He was leading Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, and Blaise Zabini out toward the grounds. The boils that had covered Parkinson's hands earlier had already been completely healed by Madam Pomfrey's care.
Snape cast the Gryffindor group a cold glance as he passed, before striding away with his head held high. The Slytherin students following obediently behind him seemed noticeably less arrogant than usual—perhaps due to their own troubled state of mind regarding the school's crisis. They merely glanced briefly at the clustered Gryffindors before following Snape's departure.
The Gryffindor group watched darkly, their faces shadowed with anger, as Snape led his students onto the grounds. The small group seemed headed toward the forest edge, their figures were quickly fading into the dim evening gloom.
"Hey!" Neville suddenly called out, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over them.
After successfully drawing everyone's attention to himself, he looked at Harry with meaningful intent burning in his eyes.
"Want to find an opportunity to blow off some steam, Harry? I mean, teach those despicable people who've put Hogwarts in this crisis a little lesson?"
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