‘You’re going to believe him, Professor?’ Flitwick squeaked.

‘I am… In fact, Forrest, if you’re correct and they really are here, I’ll make sure you get the Clearwater,’ said Umbridge- in what seemed to be a sweet voice.

Amelia was holding herself- no, Olivia and Isabell were holding Amelia from storming over to them. Forrest grinned as Umbridge took a deep breath. The trio wanted to walk away, but were too afraid that the snakeskin cloak would fall off them or that they would make any sound that indicated they were there.

The trio and Albert were well hidden under the snakeskin cloak, all heaving a deep sigh of relief as they exited The Three Broomsticks. 

‘He just made me hate him even more,’ Amelia muttered, feeling the pressure Forrest had left on her wrists when he grabbed hold of her. 

‘Next time I see him, I’ll kick him in the part that hurts,’ Isabell snarled. ‘And I’ll make sure it does hurt.’

‘As much as I appreciate your ways of violence, we have more things to worry about,’ Olivia said. ‘Whenever Umbridge would see us in the school, she would hold us hostage and torture us and even use Veritaserum to know whether or not we sneaked into Hogsmeade. And speaking about Hogsmeade, we can’t come here anymore. It’s too perilous.’ 

‘Scared?’ Isabell mocked, plainly disagreeing with Olivia’s suggestion. 

‘No! All I’m saying is that there would be a very high chance that we would get expelled, and if we get expelled, we lose our future!’ 

‘So, your future is to wash the dishes and cook food for your future family?’ Amelia asked, one eyebrow raised. 

Olivia groaned. They continued to walk across piles of snow lying ahead of them. They reached a pink shop, with a single baby with a pure white diaper and a golden arrow hung on a tree. The baby had feathered white wings and its golden arrow had a pink heart as its tip. Cupid’s wings magically flapped and his hands started moving, aiming his bow and arrow at the trio and Albert, as though seeing through the snakeskin cloak. The girls and Albert watched, interested. They were interested, except for… Isabell. 

‘You’re just going to stand here while that horribly cute baby is going to fire an arrow at us?’ Isabell whisper-shouted. 

Cupid fired his arrow, and it stopped a hair long from them as it sped towards them. The whole arrow vanished, except for the heart tip. It started expanding, until it was the size of all their palms combined. Golden letters appeared on the paper:

Welcome to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, where we add a sweet taste to your Valentine's!

Isabell was nauseous after the pink heart exploded into pink sparks. A girl with long black hair passed them, tears in her eyes. It was Cho Chang, coming out of Pudifoot’s shop. 

‘Cho, wait!’ a voice yelled. 

With messy jet black hair, and green eyes with a scar resembling a lightning bolt on his forehead, Harry emerged from the shop, running after Cho, who was no longer to be seen. The trio and Albert watched them, baffled. 

‘Isabell, I thought you saw them-’ 

‘I did!’ Isabell snapped.

Several heads curiously went to where they were standing. All eyes under the cloak glared at Isabell. 

‘Blame Amelia,’ Isabell said, avoiding all eyes set on her. 

Amelia raised her eyebrows, as well as Olivia and Albert.

‘Why should we-’ Albert began.

‘Whatever,’ Isabell muttered. ‘I wanted to ask you something, Albert. Are you or are you not going to ask Olivia out for Valentine’s?

Albert’s eyes widened and his ears throbbed red.

‘Isabell, will you please stop embarrassing Olivia and Albert?’ Amelia whispered exasperatedly as they headed were about to head back to the Honeydukes cellar-

Harry swished past them as his arm almost brushed to Isabell’s, who recoiled when she felt the soft touch. They heard Harry mutter angrily to himself:

‘Why did I say that…’

Bemused, the trio unawaredly followed an unsuspecting Harry. Curiosity got the better of them. They followed him back to The Three Broomsticks, which was Harry’s destination. Harry entered the shop, a curious trail of students following him. The trio and Albert didn’t know why they followed Harry, perhaps it was because they wanted to stay in Hogsmeade more or perhaps because-

Forrest bumped into Harry, who was about to yell in anger. Forrest didn’t say anything, though they saw his nose wrinkle as he took a breath. The lavender came plummeting down his lungs, and he slowly exhaled. He smiled thinly and walked away, ignoring Harry, who was on the floor. Harry cursed Forrest (Isabell arched her brows) and got up, pushing his weight on his knee as he stood up. He continued to walk across tables, which were filled with excited, high-spirited chattering and drinks. Harry, along with the trio and Albert, stopped at one table. Hermione looked at Harry with a surprised look.

‘Harry, you’re very early-’ 

Harry mumbled something unclear and sat down on an empty wooden chair, and he leaned in. 

‘What’s this?’ a cold voice said. 

The overgrown bat had glided over to their table, almost bumping into Albert. Snape looked at Hermione, Harry and Rita Skeeter, ignoring the Ravenclaw girl. His lips curled until they weren’t seen. But before anyone could even make a single sound, Snape turned, his black cloak following its owner as it swished. He was now facing the trio and Albert, whose blood went cold as their Potions professor looked at them. They huddled closer in the cloak, and Snape reached out his hand, ready to snatch the cloak and uncover them. Albert mouthed: ‘Duck.’

They bent down just as Snape quickly stretched his hand and snatched thin air. Snape glared in front of him then turned again to the table while the trio and Albert rushed out of the shop, making sure their feet didn't become bare as they sprinted towards Honeydukes. They went in, greeted by the smell of candies and sweets. They went to the cellar and went down the dark tunnel. The trio and Albert took off the cloak. 

‘Why do you think Harry and Hermione were meeting up with Rita Skeeter?’ Isabell said after a silent two minutes. ‘The woman who wrote lies about everyone?’

Nobody replied. 

Amelia lit up her wand. 

Olivia was walking ahead of them as far away as possible from Albert, though embarrassment and awkwardness stretched itself even if Olivia were in Scotland and Albert were in Wales.

‘Isabell, you do realise they aren’t ready yet, right?’ Amelia whispered to Isabell in front of her. 

‘It’s been five years, isn’t that enough?’ Isabell said, chewing on a toffee she grabbed from Honeydukes. 

‘You really don’t know anything about relationships.’

‘Except for relationships with food!’ Isabell chirped. 

Albert was lagging behind, his mind divided in two.

Should I?

Or shouldn’t I?

He looked at Olivia. They had been best friends for a whole five years.

They fought for each other. 

They defended each other. 

They lived for each other. 

Was it time for all this to be taken one step further…?

He saw Amelia looking at him, calmness on her face. It was as though she was urging him to do it. Albert’s focus went to his feet. 

The least he could do was say: Happy Valentines…

‘Olivia?’ Albert called. 

Olivia looked back. 

‘Happy Valentines.’ 

‘Y-you too…’ 

Olivia’s head turned ahead again, hiding her wide grin from everyone else. They finally reached for the beginning of the rancid-odoured tunnel, which made them queasy, and Olivia muttered the spell and the hump promptly opened. They hopped off, one after the other, as though they were rabbits hopping off their burrow. 

Ten cold and chilly days later, owls came swooping down to several students in the Great Hall, with the same beige envelope for each student that had an owl in front of them. A white owl fluffy as a cloud came flapping down to Amelia. Bianca clumsily landed in front of her, mostly because the tables of the Great Hall were newly polished and scraped under the urgent  command from Umbridge. After Bianca straightened herself up, she twisted her head to her owner, stretching out the leg that had the envelope attached to. 

‘I didn’t buy the Daily Prophet…’ Amelia said, disoriented. 

Bianca pecked at her fingers to tell her it wasn’t from the Daily Prophet, the Wizarding newspaper that the Ministry of Magic produced. There was neat writing on the envelope:

From Hermione Granger

To Amelia Clearwater, Olivia Dragonheart and Isabell Bluesky

A copy of the Quibbler.

Olivia and Isabell, who were sitting on either side of Amelia during breakfast in the Great Hall, peered at the envelope and saw their names written on it. Albert was walking by, and he yelped in surprise when Olivia grabbed him and made him sit with them to see the Quibbler. 

‘What’s the Quibbler?’ Albert asked, ruffling his hair under the intention of making it messy. 

‘I think it’s written and published by Xenolophuis Lovegood,’ Isabell explained through a mouthful of french toast with syrup. ‘I read an article and it’s just… how do I say it…? Odd. Odd but fascinating and interesting.’ 

Amelia opened the envelope and saw vibrant colours splash into her eyes the moment she did. She held out the book. There were big, quirky and funky letters written on the top:

The Quibbler

Written by Xenophilius Lovegood

There were colourful pictures and captions at the middle and bottom. One picture had Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic. But his head was replaced by a brown fudge cake topped with a green bowler hat and a facial moustache, along with thick brows that made the fudge cake head look mad. The caption under the picture was:

A fudge cake who can’t see that You-Know-Who has risen!

Amelia, along with Olivia and Isabell, snickered, while Albert laughed nervously. Amelia opened the first page of the Quibbler, where there were a few acknowledgements. They went to the next page, and saw a moving picture of Harry Potter, grinning sheepishly. In bold capital letters, there was writing underneath the nervous moving Harry:

HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST: 

THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN

With raised eyebrows, Amelia flicked to the next page, with her friends looking at the vibrant colours with her:

Harry Potter, a fifteen year old boy whose parent’s ghosts are seen in his green eyes, has been interviewed about the tragic event that he has gone through. He, with deep sadness, has confirmed Cedric Diggory’s death and You-Know-Who’s unfortunate return, and how the Ministry of Magic is too afraid to take any actions and decides to refuse what Albus Dumbledore has got to say. 

‘Obviously. Fudge is so stubborn that he wouldn’t even believe Albus Dumbledore. Probably the only wizard he should believe is Dumbledore,’ Isabell said, now through a mouthful of strawberry tart. 

‘How did Cedric Diggory die?’ Rita Skeeter, ex-writer for the Ministry of Magic’s Daily Prophet, had asked Harry Potter.

With a nervous face, Harry said:

‘It was the Triwizard Tournament. Cedric and I held the Triwizard cup at the same time. And the cup turned out to be a portkey. We found ourselves in a graveyard… and one of You-Know-Who’s followers, by the name of Peter Pettigrew, nicknamed Wormtail, killed Cedric with the Avada Kedavra curse. And Wormtail took my blood and put it in a cauldron and… he returned. You-Know-Who got his body back right in front of me. Then… our wands seemed to have a core connection. And my parents’ ghosts or phantoms came up to me. Cedric’s phantom appeared and he told me to return his body lying next to me to his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Diggory. You-Know-Who did the Avada Kedavra and I did the Expelliarmus. The connection happened and the phantoms exploded to create a distraction. I took Cedric’s body and I took the portkey. We ended up in Hogwarts, the place where we started the third and final challenge of the Triwizard Tournament.’

And so it is confirmed that a dark wizard has returned, and that his dark spirits are meddling with our peaceful world…

‘I hope Umbridge doesn’t get her hands on this-’ 

‘Doesn’t get her hands on what, exactly?’ a sweet and sarcastically innocent voice said.

They swallowed their yells. 

‘It’s just a-a Quibbler article-’

‘Who wrote it?’ 

‘Rita Skeeter.’

‘Who was interviewed?’ 

They eyed each other. They saw Harry, Hermione and Ron look at them from the Gryffindor table, with worry struck on their pale, sweaty faces. Harry nodded to tell them they should tell the truth. Umbridge looked at them, humming and patiently waiting for a response. It was either tell the Toad or suffer a painful detention, if there was even such a thing. 

‘H-Harry Potter,’ the girls muttered in unison.

Umbridge snatched the Quibbler and scanned it with her toad-like bulging eyes. She crumpled it and set fire to it with her wand. She gestured to Harry to come to her.

‘Where and when were you interviewed, Potter?’ Umbridge asked sweetly.

‘Last Hogsmeade trip…’

‘Then, there will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you, Mr. Potter. I see the message has not sunk in just yet. You must not tell lies. Meet me in detention this afternoon.’

Umbridge hummed an off-key tune and strode off, hate following her like a shadow. 

The next day, there was another Educational Decree that Umbridge had placed on the wall of the Great Hall:

Proclamation:

Educational Decree No. 27

Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled.

Dolores Jane Umbridge,

High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

‘Of course she banned it,’ Isabell said. 

‘But…’ Olivia said. 

‘But what?’

‘Some people read the Quibbler before she banned it. These people would have told their friends and their friends would have spread the news. So, eventually, everyone in the school will know about the Quibbler article whether or not Umbridge banned it.’ 

‘I have a feeling Umbridge will go round searching for the Quibbler in people’s bags.’

Isabell was indeed correct. That afternoon, in lunch, dinner and the five minute breaks, she did ask students to take out their bags, or books. But the students out-smarted her small brain. They transfigured the Quibbler into quills or notebooks, and Professor Mcgonagall seemed to be the cause of that. If Umbridge was in a fit state, she would snatch the bag of passing students and rudley rummage through their belongings. Umbridge was determined to find someone who had broken the school rules, when she didn’t realise half the school was. It had been a whole week, and Umbridge didn’t find anyone with their hands on the Quibbler. She was heard shrieking in her office like a madwoman in the attic. The interview seemed to be a success, because more people who hadn’t believed Voldemort was back, were believing it now. The D.A. was still continuing on, with more people in the lessons every time and more progress produced. The Patil sisters were there; their mother ought to make them believe that Voldemort had not risen, but the Quibbler made them change their mind. They even sent their copy to their mother. Even Seamus Finnagan, who was a fifth year Gryffindor and had had a fight with Harry about Voldemort not being back, was right there with them. People really progressed, especially Neville Longbottom, who had succeeded in disarming Padma Patil in their previous meeting. Olivia was succeeding in the Fiendfyre curse, but Harry was trying to make them control it and extinguish it when requested. She was able to create a serpent with the enchanted fire and move it around so that it surrounded a terrified Albert. Amelia was nailing the disillusionment charm, so that she was able to camouflage herself and was able to make herself flat, so that she seemed to be part of the wall. Nobody found her for a whole hour until she revealed herself to everyone. Isabell was succeeding in the Aguamenti spell, so that she was now able to create shapes and animals using water and move them around. Albert was succeeding in the Oppugno spell, so that he made a dummy go after Zacharias Smith, who shrieked like a girl as the living dummy chased after him. But nobody showed sympathy for Zahcarias, instead, they laughed. Zahcarias huffed angrily, but he soon thought it was hilarious. The trio and Albert were actually nailing everything together. Harry even asked them to demonstrate some things because of how good they were. 

February had quickly ended and next it was March. It was a nice day on the weekend, the girls heading over to Hagrid’s. As they were walking to the Grounds, there was a scream heard from the Great Hall.

‘No! NO! This cannot be happening... it cannot... I refuse to accept it!’ a voice screamed.

The trio recognised it. It was their divination teacher’s voice, Professor Sybill Trelawney. 

‘You didn't realise this was coming? Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather, you must surely have realised that your inadequate performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable that you would be sacked?’ a voice was saying. 

The girls and Albert headed to the Great Hall to see what was going on. When they entered, they saw a crowd of students surrounding three teachers. Umbridge, Mcgonagall and Trelawney. Trelawney was sobbing in Professor Mcgongall’s arms, who glared at Umbridge with pure loath.

‘You c- can't! You c- can't sack me! I've b- been here for sixteen years! H- Hogwarts is- my h- home!’

‘It was your home, until an hour ago, when the Minister of Magic countersigned your Order of Dismissal from Hogwarts. Now, kindly remove yourself from this Hall. You are embarrassing us,’ Umbridge said in her girlish voice, giggling in the end as her bulging eyes looked at Trelawney, who was practically a raining cloud.

‘You are an incapable High Inquisitor, who doesn’t accept teachers and how unique they are!’ raged Mcgongall, her nostrils flaring. ‘Sybill is just capable enough of taking your rank!’

Umbridge giggled. 

‘Now, we don’t want this to get messy, right? Please get yourself out of this hall.’

Trelawney was about to walk away, still weeping, when the gate of the Great Hall opened.

‘Wait…’ a voice thundered.

The doors opened with great strength, and blue eyes were on fire behind half-moon spectacles. Dumbledore came, and Umbridge looked at the Headmaster, amused. 

‘Minerva, please escort Sybill back to her office.’

‘Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore. As the High Inquisitor, I have the power to-’

‘Yes, you do, Dolores. But you do not have the power to banish a teacher from Hogwarts. That power, still, remains with the headmaster.’

Umbridge glared at him.

‘No-no, Professor!’ Trelawney said. ‘I-I will go find myself another suitable place to teach-’

‘Sybill, as a family of Hogwarts, I order you to stay here. This is your home, Sybill, and you have every right to stay here.’ 

‘Th-thank you, Professor. Thank you,’ Trelawney smiled through a weeping face. 

Minerva still held Trelawney and they walked out of the Great Hall, Trelawney’s trunk magically floating behind them. Dumbledore swivelled back to Umbridge, eyes still on blazing fire. 

‘Well,’ Umbridge said through gritted teeth. ‘It is my job to find another teacher to replace-’

‘I think I already did that job for you.’

The door of the Great Hall (which Dumbledore had closed behind him) opened. 

Several students screamed when they all saw a centaur enter the Great Hall. With half the body of a horse and half the body of a man, a centaur entered, his hooves banging on the floor. It was a centaur with a palomino horse hindbody and blonde human hair. He had blue eyes and a bulking chest, along with a set of arrows and bows. 

‘This is Firenze,’ Dumbledore said, with a twinkle in his eyes and a small smile. ‘The students’ new Divination teacher.’

The look on Umbridge’s face clearly indicated that she did not accept what she was seeing. The centaur looked upon his new students, who some backed away at the intimidating sight of him. 

‘I think it was my job to hire teachers when others were sacked?’ Umbridge said calmly.

‘Ah, it is only your job if the Headmaster cannot find one.’ 

‘True, you are Headmaster… but you will not last much longer.’

Umbridge smiled, her toad-like face showing every inch of hatred and evil. Dumbledore’s fiery eyes seemed to dim. 

‘It is unwise to hire a beast to teach young students. He can kill them all off if he wanted to,’ Umbridge continued. 

Umbridge looked wickedly at Dumbledore then shuffled her feet away from Firenze, though walked away in little steps. 

‘Don’t you all have studying to do?’ Dumbledore’s voice spoke, though calmly, and everyone started scattering away to the corridors of Hogwarts. 

The trio and Albert were about to walk away, until Isabell walked towards Firenze. 

‘What are you-’ began Olivia. 

‘Firenze!’ Isabell called.

Firenze looked back, and his face seemed to brighten at the sight of Isabell.

‘Ah, you’re the one whom I met two years ago,’ Firenze said in a low voice. ‘Pleasure to meet you, really.’

‘The pleasure is mine,’ Isabell said breathlessly. ‘But, why are you out of the Forbidden Forest? Why are you here?’

‘My herd has banished me,’ Firenze said uncomfortably. 

‘H-herd?’ Albert said in a baffled way, and Isabell knew he was thinking of cows.  

‘Group of centaurs,’ Isabell spoke impatiently, then looked at Firenze again. 

Amelia, Olivia and Albert were now slowly approaching the creature that they thought was a myth, only to find that myth right in front of them, limbs and all. 

‘Why banish a centaur from their herd?’ Amelia asked.

‘I had to prove my loyalty and obedience to the centaurs. They thought I was a traitor when I told them my loyalty and obedience is to Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of this school. And so, my herd banished me from the Forest, and told me that if I put a hoof in it again, they will fire me with my own arrows that I’ve created for them in order to hunt for food and protect themselves… Knowing what happened, Albus Dumbledore kindly made me teach at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, hoping I would guide young souls. And I swore an oath to never break my loyalty and obedience to him. And now I’m your new Divination professor. I shall guide you through the starry galaxy, the planets and the rocky moons. This is more than looking at the galaxy above us, but to observe them is what you are meant to do.’ 

‘Maybe I shouldn’t quit Divination, after all,’ Olivia said, looking at Firenze in astonishment. 

‘Agreed,’ Amelia said.

‘You four!’ a voice yelled. 

It was Mcgonagall, marching towards them. 

‘Your Herbology lesson had started, and Professor Sprout was searching everyone for you! As for you, Firenze, Dumbledore has set up your new classroom. He made it… suit your adaptations you had in the Forbidden Forest.’ 

Firenze’s head bent down and went up to say “thank you”. Firenze then nodded at them. The trio and Albert waved to Firenze, their new centaur Divination professor, and started to walk together to the Herbology Gardens.