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The silence that followed was heavy with the smell of ozone, burnt parchment, and the metallic tang of blood.
The Aurors, many of them veterans of the First Wizarding War, stared at the warped, non-Euclidean geometry of the Atrium. In the Ministry's top-secret archives, there was a single, dusty record of Albus Dumbledore engaging an Obscurial in a battle that folded the streets of Paris. But Dumbledore had been a middle-aged titan of magic then.
Hermione was thirteen.
This isn't a genius, the senior Aurors thought, their hands trembling as they gripped their wands. This is a monster in a school robe. In a few years, she wouldn't just be the next Dumbledore; she would be something entirely new—and infinitely more terrifying.
Snape stood amidst the ruins of the reception room, his face ashen, looking like a man watching the end of the world. "Stop it! Hermione! Cease this madness immediately!"
Hermione didn't even turn her head. She merely adjusted the flow of the Fiendfyre with a flick of her wrist. Snape realized with a jolt of grim humor that his presence here was a farce. Fudge had thought Snape was the protection; he finally realized Snape was the only thing keeping the Ministry from being wiped off the map.
Fudge, sprawled in the wreckage of a golden fountain, scrambled toward Snape on his hands and knees, his pinstriped trousers torn at the knees. All dignity was gone.
"Professor Snape! Tell her! Make her stop! She's going to bring the whole building down on our heads!"
Snape looked down at the Minister. He slowly, almost lazily, brushed a speck of soot from his sleeve. His voice was a cold, smooth drawl. "Minister Fudge, my abilities are… limited. I cannot stop those who are so determined to court their own destruction." He paused, his dark eyes flickering toward the bleeding woman on the floor. "Perhaps you should ask Madam Umbridge why she felt the need to ignite this particular fuse."
"Your Majesty! Please!"
A new voice cut through the roar of the flames. Ethan Hunt—the Dark Lord in his charming disguise—stepped forward. He moved with a grace that none of the other Aurors possessed, his wand held loosely at his side.
Hermione's lips curled into a predatory, amused smile. "Mr. Hunt? I might be inclined to back down. But that depends entirely on how much weight your words carry."
Tom Riddle's eyes narrowed. He knew she was testing the limits of his new identity.
Hermione didn't wait. She tapped her wand. The giant fire serpent, pulsating with the heat of a dying star, roared and lunged directly at Tom.
Tom didn't flinch. He swept his wand in a grand arc. "Aguamenti Maxima!"
A colossal sphere of water materialized, slamming into the fire serpent's head. The collision created a violent explosion of steam, obscuring the room in a thick, white fog. Hermione laughed, a clear, bell-like sound in the mist. She split the serpent into four smaller, faster drakes of fire, sending them to flank him from every direction.
Tom moved like a dancer, weaving between the tongues of cursed flame. "Confringo!" He fired a blasting hex into the heart of the lead drake, shattering it into embers. But the magic was relentless; the embers coalesced instantly, reforming the beast.
The surrounding Aurors watched in stunned silence. They couldn't hold out for five seconds against this girl, yet this newcomer, Ethan Hunt, was holding his own in a duel of titans.
"Ethan is incredible!" Fudge whispered, a glimmer of hope returning to his eyes. If we survive, I'll make him Head of the Department.
But the balance shifted. Hermione's magic was a bottomless well. Tom's "Ethan" persona was limited by the facade of a "talented recruit." To use his real power would expose him. He eventually dropped to one knee, panting, his suit singed.
He looked up at Hermione, his eyes reflecting the orange glow. "Your reputation as the Witch is well-earned. I am... far inferior."
Despair hit the Ministry officials like a physical blow. If the golden boy couldn't stop her, who could?
Then, Gilderoy Lockhart stepped forward.
He moved through the sea of fire as if it were a red carpet, his turquoise coat shimmering. He reached Hermione's side and placed a gentle, calming hand near her arm.
"Hermione, dear. You've vented enough, haven't you?" Lockhart's voice was the only thing in the room that sounded normal—warm, approachable, and steady. "How about we stop, for my sake?"
He leaned in, his tone pleading but loud enough for everyone to hear. "I guarantee, on my honor as Gilderoy Lockhart, that if you were forced to defend yourself because of someone else's idiocy, I will stand by you. No one will touch you."
He shot a sharp, meaningful glare at the whimpering Umbridge.
Hermione watched him for a beat, then nodded. She waved her wand, and the fire serpents vanished into the air as if they had never existed. The Mirror Dimension collapsed, the walls and floors snapping back into their original, albeit ruined, positions.
The silence that followed was agonizing.
"What happened, Hermione?" Lockhart asked gently. "Tell us the truth."
Hermione looked at the pale, toad-like woman bleeding on the floor. "If this pink toad tries to use a Blood Quill to force a 'confession' out of me, then she shouldn't be surprised when the ink turns back into her own blood."
"I didn't!" Umbridge shrieked, clutching her chest. "I just wanted her to write—"
"Quiet," Lockhart snapped, his celebrity charm replaced by a cold authority. He looked at the two Aurors who had been trapped in the fire. "Report. Now."
The two men didn't hesitate. They were terrified of the girl and desperate to be on the right side of the conflict.
"It was Umbridge, sir! She tried to use a black quill—a Blood Quill—on the girl!"
"Miss Granger saw through it, and Umbridge lost her temper. She tried to use an Incarcerous jinx to bind her first! The Witch only retaliated after Umbridge attacked!"
With the truth laid bare, every head in the room turned toward Umbridge. The fear they felt for Hermione was now eclipsed by a burning, righteous fury toward the woman who had almost gotten them all killed over a schoolgirl's pen.
Would you like me to describe Fudge's humiliating apology or move on to the aftermath back at Hogwarts?