The Gryffindor students gave Ravenclaw a half-hearted round of applause, their eyes drifting expectantly to Dumbledore.
But even as Dumbledore announced the start of the feast, the blue and bronze banners hanging above the Great Hall remained unchanged.
Disappointment hung thick at the Gryffindor table. Some students even shot Harry looks tinged with blame.
Slytherin glanced over and promptly erupted in mocking laughter—though under Professor Snape's icy glare, they quickly remembered their own house had finished second yet again...
Harry was just as downcast. He'd thought Hermione made a good point earlier—he'd already figured out what Luna had handed over to Professor Holmes. If she could earn a Special Achievement Award, why couldn't he?
Hermione and Ron tried to comfort him in hushed voices, and even George and Fred came over to show support.
Not that either of them really understood why Harry had been so confident just moments before...
Seated at the staff table, Douglas observed it all.
In fact, Dumbledore had originally planned to give Harry a Special Achievement Award—after all, providing the only Parseltongue recording was certainly worthy of recognition.
But Douglas had talked him out of it, telling Dumbledore about Harry and Ron's plans to sneak into the Chamber of Secrets at night, and offering a whole list of reasons.
It wasn't that Douglas had anything against Harry. He just felt the boy's confidence was starting to border on recklessness. If Dumbledore rewarded him now, it would only encourage even more ill-timed heroics.
Douglas hadn't expected to change Dumbledore's mind—after all, he'd always assumed the headmaster was grooming Harry for greater things. Though, thanks to his own presence this term, Harry hadn't gotten many chances to shine.
But to his surprise, Dumbledore agreed, saying, "You're right, Douglas. At this stage, young witches and wizards ought to focus on learning magic…"
The whole thing left Douglas uneasy. Something felt off. Was Dumbledore changing his plans because he already knew about Voldemort's Horcruxes and intended to handle things himself?
After the feast, Douglas called George and Fred to his office to return the Marauder's Map and handed them three letters and parcels for Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.
"As far as I know, you both did quite well this term. Don't get too cocky, though.
Since you'll be sitting your O.W.L.s next year, starting next term you'll be studying whatever you want—under my supervision. But you'll also be taking a full mock O.W.L.s exam every month.
If either of you scores below 'Acceptable' even once, I'll have to put your plans on hold. Otherwise, I'll never convince your mum. And if you bomb the real O.W.L.s, I won't be able to face her, either…"
George and Fred hesitated for a long time, but finally agreed to Douglas's conditions—then made a request of their own.
"Professor, about that Encyclopedia of Magical Artifacts…"
"Of course, we trust you, Professor. Right, George? We're just worried about next term…"
Douglas gave a knowing, cold smile. He knew exactly what they were after.
"Don't worry. I'll show it to you next term…"
The twins wanted to push their luck, but Douglas unceremoniously kicked them out.
—
The next morning, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry officially broke for summer.
Students streamed onto the Hogwarts Express.
It wasn't until they boarded that they realized the school hadn't posted exam results this term.
Before they could celebrate, a rumor swept through every carriage:
"The school's just going to send the grades home…"
Groans of despair broke out everywhere.
"Thank Merlin Professor Holmes only taught for one term. Maybe next term there won't be exams…"
"Sigh, but I do hope the next Defence Against the Dark Arts professor keeps Professor Holmes's practical classrooms…"
—
Shortly after the students departed, at precisely nine o'clock—
A grand procession approached the gates of Hogwarts.
Douglas stood among the welcoming party, sizing up the visitors.
At the front was a short, stout man whose unruly gray hair defied even a dark green bowler hat. He wore a pinstriped suit, a bright red tie, a black cloak, and purple pointed boots.
This was Cornelius Fudge, the thirty-second Minister for Magic. On his left was Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office.
Though he walked with a slight limp, his stride was purposeful. His gold-rimmed glasses couldn't hide those sharp, predatory yellow eyes.
To the Minister's right stood the blond Lucius Malfoy, with the Malfoy family's house-elf, Dobby, at his side.
Behind them came several older members of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, a division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Perhaps the creature in question was too dangerous this time—they hadn't brought an executioner.
Then came a dozen or so Aurors. Douglas spotted a familiar figure—her hair shifting from bubblegum pink to deep purple, making her impossible to miss.
This was Nymphadora Tonks, a Hufflepuff two years below Douglas, and a Metamorphmagus (a rare witch or wizard born with the ability to change their appearance at will).
The Hogwarts welcoming party was led by Professor McGonagall, with all four Heads of House, Douglas himself, the half-metallic Professor Kettleburn, and the towering Hagrid.
They were few in number, but their presence was formidable.
From five meters away, Fudge broke into hearty laughter, warmly greeting the professors.
"Long time no see, Minerva!"
"Filius, how are you these days?"
"Pomona, I heard…"
"Severus, congratulations on…"
"Professor Holmes, the rising star of our magical world—very pleased to have you join the Ministry…"
Finally, he asked, curiosity piqued, "How come I don't see Headmaster Dumbledore?"
Professor McGonagall smiled:
"Albus has gone to greet an old friend. I believe they're already waiting in the headmaster's office…"
Fudge looked genuinely surprised—clearly, he'd thought everyone was already present.
The group proceeded toward the headmaster's office.
On the way, Douglas took the initiative to greet several Auror acquaintances.
Tonks circled Douglas twice, making a couple of playful noises, and said cheerfully:
"Doug, I can't believe you're a professor now! And all those books you wrote under a secret identity… After all these years, I never had a clue. Come on, what else have you been hiding?"
Douglas chuckled, not to be outdone:
"I never thought that clumsy little girl would end up an Auror, either."
Tonks lifted her chin with pride.
"Well, I am a Metamorphmagus, after all! I only qualified recently—Kingsley says I'm a prodigy. Normally, it'd take another two years of training.
And honestly, I owe you for all that training you put me through. Once I joined the Auror program, I realized so much of it was what you'd already taught me—especially Stealth and Tracking. I got an Outstanding in both.
I've always wanted to thank you in person, but the training program was strict—I couldn't just leave. So, when you have time, let me buy you dinner, yeah? Oh, and have you updated your recipe collection lately…"
Douglas noticed Scrimgeour—the Head of the Auror Office—glance back at him. Douglas offered him a calm, friendly smile.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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