Hogwarts woke buzzing.
Whispers slithered through corridors, raced along breakfast tables, and burst into full-throated debate before the first bell even rang. By mid-morning, everyone knew.
Umbridge was gone.
Not transferred.
Not recalled.
Arrested.
The Daily Prophet arrived late, and when it did, the headline was already obsolete.
MINISTRY OFFICIAL DETAINED FOR MISCONDUCT AT HOGWARTS
Students crowded around copies, eyes widening as the truth, the real truth, filtered through. No lies about overzealous discipline. No careful euphemisms.
A blood quill.
A student's hand.
Harry Potter.
The wizarding world reacted exactly as it always did when a lie finally collapsed: outrage, denial, panic… and relief.
Elira Vael stood before a crescent table of robed figures, the sigil of the International Confederation of Wizards glowing faintly behind them.
"The evidence is conclusive," she said, voice cool and precise. "Umbridge acted as a Ministry enforcer to suppress information regarding Voldemort's return, using illegal artifacts and coercive authority."
One councillor leaned forward. "And Hogwarts?"
"Is compromised but salvageable," Vael replied. "Dumbledore acted immediately. Bones followed protocol. The child did not break."
A murmur rippled around the chamber.
"When her trial concludes," another voice said, "we proceed."
Vael inclined her head. "Phase Two is ready."
Dumbledore's office was calmer than it had been in weeks.
Amelia Bones sat opposite him, fingers steepled. "I won't pretend this is ideal timing."
"Few things ever are," Dumbledore replied mildly.
"You need a Defence professor. Immediately."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled faintly. "I had hoped you might say that."
Amelia smiled, grim, satisfied. "Auror Proudfoot. Veteran. Clean record. Practical-minded."
"She'll do nicely," Dumbledore said.
"She starts today."
Auror Proudfoot wasted no time.
She strode into the classroom in duelling boots and practical robes, wand already in hand.
"No lectures today," she announced. "If you can't defend yourself, theory's useless."
The class stared, then grinned.
They practised shield charms, counter-jinxes, situational awareness. Proudfoot corrected stances, barked encouragement, demonstrated spells with precision that made even the Slytherins pay attention.
Harry watched, approving.
This was real Defence.
By the end of the lesson, the room was buzzing with energy, sweat, and excitement.
"This," Ron said reverently, "is brilliant."
The Wizengamot chamber was packed.
Dolores Umbridge sat in the centre, small and trembling, her saccharine smile gone for good.
Under Veritaserum, she unraveled.
She admitted to:
Using Dark artifacts on students
Suppressing evidence of Voldemort's return
Coordinating propaganda with Cornelius Fudge
Authorising unlawful detentions and punishments
Targeting Harry Potter deliberately
Gasps echoed as truth spilled freely.
"I was protecting the Ministry," she whimpered. "Maintaining order."
"By torture?" Amelia Bones asked coldly.
Silence.
The verdict was swift.
Guilty on all counts.
Her sentence:
Life imprisonment in Azkaban
Confiscation of wand and assets
Permanent ban from public office
As she was led away, screaming protests drowned by the chamber's roar, the wizarding world shifted, just a little.
The truth was out.
And it could no longer be erased.