It took two days before Pomfrey allowed Harry to leave the hospital wing – well, more like she had no choice. Harry still felt a little tired and weak, but overall he was doing better. It only felt as if he had played Quidditch for a number of hours. Except that the tiredness part didn’t recover as quickly as it should.

But there was nothing that Pomfrey could do to keep Harry, much to her frustration. In the following two days that he was at the hospital wing, his friends had visited once. With hushed voices, they worked out their plans. They would only begin once Harry got out of the hospital wing, much to Draco’s displeasure.

“Come on, Potter,” Draco had complained. “Don’t you think Umbridge is smart enough to figure out the pranks started when you left the hospital wing. It’s better we start now.”

While Draco had made a good point, Harry didn’t want to do it like that. He didn’t tell the others his reasoning, but it wasn’t difficult to figure it out. He just didn’t want them to take the fall if something bad happened. Umbridge would target Hermione more than she would target Ron. And Draco had his own issues of being seen with them.

Harry knew Draco was sacrificing a lot just by being around them. The other Slytherins could target him or send word to his father. Harry wasn’t sure how Malfoy Senior would take it if his son was starting to be friends with Harry Potter.

No, if they were going to be found out, it was better if all the blame fell onto Harry’s shoulders. He was determined to keep the rest of them out of the limelight of trouble – especially after seeing what the Black Quill could do.

They had to do this right. Harry still hadn’t revealed the last part of his plans to the others, because he knew they would try to convince him not to go through with it. He wanted to get to the point where there was no going back. He was going to do something crazy, something that was definitely not in Hogwarts: A History. But when he was done, he was sure it would be branded into its pages for all eternity.

After the others had gathered their ideas about fighting back, Harry had been left alone in the hospital wing again. The other two occupants still hadn’t woken up from their comas by the Black Quill. Seeing them burned Harry’s own determination.

He only needed to try one spell. If he could do his signature spell, then his plan would work. If he couldn’t, then they would all be expelled.

Right, no pressure. Harry tried to not think about the fact that he could even perform a simple Wingardium Leviosa.

If he could disarm her, then they could take her out. But, first, some sweet revenge.

On the morning of his release, Harry walked away from the hospital wing, his steps slower than normal. Even though he had tried to practice his magic, he wasn’t making any progress at all. Today, though, he was ignoring it. He wasn’t going to think about not being able to use magic. His mind was focused on one thing: giving Umbridge a taste of her own medicine.

The only thing that brought Harry’s good mood down was the fact that Snape hadn’t come to visit in the past two days. After his wand exploded, he hadn’t seen the man. An old worry lifted in his heart. He couldn’t stop himself from briefly wondering if the reason why the man was avoiding him was because his magic had changed.

Of course, that was silly. But the thought still crossed his mind. He had spent too many years around the Dursleys. Thoughts of doubt would probably always plague him for the rest of his life.

Then, again… It was probably a good thing that he hadn’t seen Snape. Harry was pretty sure the man would’ve noticed something off about him and try to ask what was going on. It would’ve been difficult to lie to the man right now. And there was no doubt that Snape would say the whole thing was crazy.

As Harry reached the entrance of the Great Hall, he stopped short. He stared at the students, his jaw dropping.

Every student was sporting bright neon hair in the following colors: green, red, yellow, and blue. Each color was according to their house colors, even though the neon property clashed viciously with the duller house colors.

The teachers hadn’t been exempt from this either. McGonagall’s bun was a bright neon red, the shade nearly blinding even from where Harry stood. She didn’t seem to mind it at all, however. She ate her toast with a mild expression, nodding occasionally to the neon blue haired Flitwick.

Harry’s eyes immediately sought out Snape. Please let him be here. Come on, make my day. I really need to see this.

Oh, and there he was, sitting beside Trelawney – her hair was neon blue – with his face resting inside his hand. His hair curtained his face. But it was a stunningly neon green, down to his thick eyebrows. It was such a beautiful sight of absolute hilarity.

Harry would pay a lot of galleons to have a photo framed.

The man looked up from his hand and caught Harry’s gaze. His dark eyes narrowed. Harry put a hand over his mouth, but he knew he couldn’t keep his amusement out of his eyes. Snape sighed, shaking his head. He made an imperceptible motion towards the Gryffindor table. Harry nodded in return and stepped into the Great Hall. He paused immediately, feeling magic settle over his hair. He glanced at his fringe.

It had changed to bright red.

Snape gave him a smug look, before he went back to his breakfast.

Harry shrugged, grinning, and walked to the Gryffindor table, sitting down next to Ron and Hermione.

“Hi, guys.”

“Oh, Harry!” cried Hermione, her bright red hair flying in the air as her head whirled to the side. “How’re you feeling? Are you sure you should be out of the hospital wing?”

“Trying to do Pomfrey’s job?” asked Harry with smile.

Hermione flushed. “No, I’m just concerned.”

“You wouldn’t believe how many books Hermione checked out about healing,” said Ron, his voice muffled with a mouthful of food. He swallowed with some trouble. He pounded a fist against his chest. His usually carrot red hair was now a bright neon red. “All about healing.”

“Would you chew you food?” demanded Hermione, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “One day you’re going to get some food stuck in your pipes.”

“Is that possible?” asked Ron, looking mildly alarmed.

Hermione sighed loudly.

“So, any updates?” asked Harry, putting some food onto his plate. Once done, he noticed Hermione giving his small amount of food a critical look. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything about it. Harry motioned to the tables. “I can see something happened.”

“Anyone who enters the Great Hall gets a new hair color,” said Ron with a grin. “This one was Lee’s idea. Umbridge has some nasty green hair right now. She fled the Great Hall after her hair changed, cursing up a storm.” Ron snorted. “I knew she was a Slytherin.”

Harry frowned. “Ron, Slytherin doesn’t equal evil.”

“I know, I know,” said Ron with a shake of his head. He jabbed a finger towards Hermione. “I’ve already been lectured five times about this. I know. But still, I can’t say it surprised me to see her with green hair.”

“We heard from Draco that she tried to enter the Headmaster’s office this morning,” whispered Hermione, dropping her head closer to Harry. “The gargoyle wouldn’t move for her. She threw a fit.”

Harry smiled. “That works perfectly for us,” he whispered. “We can set our attacks on her office after breakfast. What day is it? Her classes don’t start until later, right?”

Hermione pulled out of the class schedule. To their luck, her class wouldn’t start for another two hours. She was bound to be in her office now.

“When is Draco joining us?” asked Harry. “He’s going to help, right?”

“Ferret Face said that he would meet up with us when there wasn’t anyone else around,” said Ron with another snort. “Said he couldn’t be seen with us. I don’t get his problem. Either he’s with us or he’s not.”

“Ron, think about it for a minute, would you?” said Hermione. “His father is a Death Eater. What if word got back to his father that he’s making friends with Harry Potter? Do you really think that Draco would be safe in his own home after that? We don’t know how Lucius Malfoy would react if his son switched sides. It makes sense that Draco would want to keep this under wraps.”

“Under wraps?”

“A secret,” supplied Harry.

“Why didn’t she say that?”

Hermione closed her eyes and rubbed them with her fingers, letting out a deep sigh of tiredness.

“Muggle term, Ron,” said Harry with a light laugh. “You probably should’ve taken Muggle Studies instead of Divination.”

Ron grumbled.

Harry started on his food, listening to the conversations in the Great Hall. He couldn’t catch complete concepts, but it was obvious what most of the students were talking about: Umbridge. From what he could gather, there wasn’t a single student who didn’t hate her. They were all furious with her. There were some whispers about how to charm their letters to get them out of the castle, but apparently Umbridge had caught on and banned all letters outright for the next week.

It was like a prison. It didn’t make any sense. She was going to bury herself with this kind of stuff. Was the Ministry that powerful that they could take over the freedoms of the students like this?

This couldn’t go on like this. At this rate, Voldemort could waltz right through the front door without any resistance. While Harry knew that the other teachers, like McGonagall and Snape, could help protect them, but that didn’t mean that being vulnerable was a good idea.

Harry quickly finished off his food. “You guys ready?” he asked, pushing his plate away. “We should do this now. Unless you want to back out now. If anything goes wrong, we might not succeed in driving her out.”

Ron gave him a look. Hermione didn’t say anything and stood up. She put her hands onto her hips and stared down at him.

“Right, sorry,” said Harry sheepishly. “Thanks, guys.”

“We want her gone just as much as you, Harry,” said Hermione. “If you’re going down, we’re going down with you.”

“Let’s just not go down, all right?” said Ron.

“It’s a deal,” said Harry with a laugh. Together, he and Ron stood up, and all three of them walked out of the Great Hall. Harry caught Draco’s eye just before going out of sight. The usual blond hair was bright green, just as the rest of the Slytherin table. Some of the girls were complaining about their hair. Harry gave the other boy a nod. Draco returned it slightly.

They continued down a corridor, walking in the direction of Umbridge’s office. They turned a corner and held back, waiting. After a few minutes, Draco showed up.

“Sorry, Daphne wanted to know what I was doing,” said Draco, sounding a little breathless. He glanced behind himself. “I went a longer route to make sure she didn’t follow me. She acted like she knew I was up to something.”

“Well, we are up to something,” said Ron.

“I’d prefer that nobody know that, Weasel,” snapped Draco. He motioned to his hair. “And when does this end?”

“Fred said it’ll wear off in a few hours.”

“Can we focus, please?” said Hermione, shaking her head. “If we’re going this, we better hurry.”

The air between the group was a little tense as they walked the path towards Umbridge’s office. They passed by a number of students on their way. Every time some neared their group, Draco would turn away, ducking his head near Hermione’s bushy  mane of hair – effectively hiding him. Thankfully, no one noticed them. Once they reached the corridor of Umbridge’s office, the group hid behind a number of suits of armor, out of sight should the woman leave her office. They crouched, peering around the suits to look at the door.

“So, here are the spells to use,” whispered Hermione, passing out copies of a piece of paper. As she handed one to Harry, he didn’t accept it. She frowned. “What’s wrong, Harry?”

“Well, I never got to mention something,” whispered Harry. “I can’t use my wand.”

“Why not?” asked Ron.

“It kind of… exploded on me.”

Hermione sucked in her breath, opening her mouth wide. Draco clamped his hands over her mouth.

“Don’t be a fool, Granger,” hissed Draco. “You’ll get us caught.”

He removed his hands. Hermione stared at Harry, the shock flooding through her features.

“That’s rough, mate,” said Ron, patting Harry on the shoulder. “But you can get a new wand.”

“Oh, Harry,” whispered Hermione. “Everything happens to you, doesn’t it?”

The three boys snorted.

Harry just smiled and nodded, deciding that now probably wasn’t the time to mention that he had blown up three more wands besides his own.

“I wish I could join in the spell casting right now,” said Harry.

“What are you even doing here, then, Potter?” drawled Draco. “Making us do all the dirty work?”

“No, more like you get all the fun.”

“Hmph.”

“We need to double check to see if she’s in her office. Have the map?” asked Harry. Ron nodded and pulled it out. He tapped it, saying the code. The map of Hogwarts materialized on the old parchment.

“Merlin’s beard,” gasped Draco. “Where did you get this?”

“My dad and his friends made it,” said Harry. He spotted the dot that said Dolores Umbridge. “Great, she’s in her office.”

Ron wiped the map clean.

“I want a better explanation than that,” said Draco, eyeing the parchment.

“Afterward.”

Draco huffed, but he nodded.

“I’ll start us off, then,” said Ron with a grin. “Let’s get rid of her stupid cat plates first.” He pointed his wand to her office door. He glanced down at the paper of spells. He whispered two spells.

There was a crash.

It was followed by another and then another, until the crashes blended with a multitude of others. Umbridge gasped. “What is this?” she screamed. Glass shattered. Her cries of shock and lamenting could be heard in the corridor.

The group hiding in the shadows snickered. Her screams of outrage continued for a number of minutes.

“All right,” said Harry with a nod, after there wasn’t a crash for a number of seconds. “She’s ready for the next one.”

Draco pointed his wand towards her door. He whispered a spell.

There was an enormous scream that reached a pitch unlike Harry had ever heard. The door to her office burst open. Umbridge darted out, just as a wave of multi colored frogs flooded into the corridor. Flies flew out of the office, buzzing wildly. Her screams echoed throughout the corridor. Frogs ribbited, their voices forming a loud melody. Flies buzzed back and forth, annoyingly passing by ears. The frogs went crazy, launching themselves wherever they could to catch their flying dinners.

“Eugh, disgusting creatures!” cried Umbridge, rushing out of her office. She shrieked as she stepped on a large frog. It croaked in agony. She slipped on its body, falling backwards with a loud thump. More frogs leapt onto her stomach and body, delighted to have something give them some height – anything to get closer to the flies.

Umbridge screamed in terror.

“Next one, I’ll do it,” whispered Hermione, lifting her wand. She closed her eyes and waved her wand. From the bright pink cardigan to her pink skirt, they turned into mesh of green, tan, and brown army fatigue clothes, complete with a pea green hat.

“What’s that?” asked Draco. “It looks hideous.”

“Muggle military clothing,” said Hermione with a satisfied smile.

“Ugh. Muggles have the worst taste.”

“It’s camouflage. It’s supposed to hide soldiers in forest terrain. Wizards and witches aren’t exactly good at mobility and camouflage for war, you have to admit.”

“What’re you doing?” asked a light voice.

The group of four jumped in fright, whirling around. Luna looked at them in interest, her long hair a bright blue. She peeked around them.

“Oh, looks like fun. Can I join?”

“Luna, you scared us to death,” breathed Hermione, placing a hand over her chest. “Don’t sneak up on us like that.”

“I am sorry. I was trying very hard not to sneak up on you. I guess I failed.”

She crept up beside Harry, kneeling down, and looked into the corridor. Umbridge had finally gotten to her feet and had just noticed the change in her clothing. Her shriek was louder than the army of frogs and the cloud of flies combined.

“Oh, my,” whispered Luna. She giggled. “I can barely see her in all that, except for her hair. How nice that we can see her because of her hair.”

Harry stifled a laugh. Luna was a little less innocent than he had first thought.

“All right, so what’s next on the list?”

“Next is bodily functions,” said Ron with a sinister grin, lifting his wand. “Too bad, no one will notice with those clothes. Maybe I can get her to throw up slugs.”

“That’ll be great—”

Harry stopped, feeling something soft at his feet. He glanced down, seeing Mrs. Norris curling her body around his ankles. She stared up at him with her bright yellow eyes. There was something smug about her expression.

A hand clamped down on the back of Harry’s neck. He sucked in his breath. The hand jerked him back to his feet roughly, forcing him around. He was slammed against the wall a second later. A chill slid down his back.

Harry looked up into grey eyes of Argus Filch.

“Up to some nasty mischief, are you?” growled Filch. “The Headmistress will set you right, she will. Might even let me have a go at the lot of ya.”

Well, this wasn’t exactly part of the plan.