Well, this is turning out bigger than I first imagined. Fantastic.

For a moment, the burden felt too heavy, as if it would crush his shoulders, collapse his lungs, and suffocate his breath. Was it the magic? Was it something else? He couldn’t tell – but it whispered his inadequacy, taunting his youth and revealing his inexperience.

Harry gritted his teeth.

Not going to happen.

He had a responsibility now and he wasn’t about to give up yet.

Harry wrenched himself up, much to the protests of those around him. The force upon his shoulders bore down further, its weight becoming unbearable. He grabbed the edge of the desk and heaved himself up, forcing all his energy onto getting to his feet.

The weight disappeared with a snap.

Harry let out a low gasp, exhaling in tired huffs. His chest heaved, his body exhausted from the after effects.

“Oh, ho,” murmured a voice. It was feminine, yet raspy with a ragged sound. “The boy is strong.”

He turned around, resting against the ledge of the desk. Hermione still looked at him with worry, but no one said anything as he looked up amongst the portraits.

“Who said that?” asked Harry, his voice hoarse.

A portrait moved; the woman wore a tall hat with a cloth covering her hair completely. She looked down at him with wrinkled eyes, yet they were vibrant blue in their color. She smiled at him.

“I am Edessa Skanderberg, Headmistress five centuries ago, give or take a decade or two.” She let out a raspy chuckle, her hat swaying side to side. “You’re going to need much help if you intend to retain that seat.”

“You can’t be encouraging him, Edessa!” snapped Phineas Nigellus, thumping the arm of his chair. “We should be instructing him to give up the position to a qualified adult.”

Skanderberg cackled. “Ha! And to whom do you suggest take his place? Eh? That thing?” She gestured to Umbridge and curled her wrinkled lips in disgust. “The steadfast foundation of this school would crumble within a week. The castle will die if that is allowed to be its caretaker.”

“The point is moot,” said Dippet. He shook his head. “We are honor bound to the current Headmaster and this boy is him. Do control your displeasure, Phineas.”

Phineas Nigellus trembled in his seat, glaring down at Harry with immense contempt. He stood and strode out of his portrait.

“I think she has good taste,” said Skanderberg, grinning down at Harry. “The castle has made a desperate move, yes – but all in good taste.”

A strange feeling welled inside his heart. It buoyed his confidence, yet it was overwhelming as well. The portraits were looking down at him, some with contempt like Phineas Nigellus, others with contemplation. Some looked down at him with a hint of interested amusement, like Edessa Skanderberg.

Hogwarts wanted him to be her Headmaster. The portraits were supportive in a way – or at least were not going to fight him on it. He felt more their expectations than anything else.

Right.

Okay…

Where to start…?

He didn’t even know what the Headmaster did all day, now that Harry thought about it. Dumbledore didn’t teach a class any more. Did he just stay in his office all day? Was there thatmuch paperwork that Dumbledore could rarely leave his office?

An image of Dumbledore hunched over his desk with massive stacks of paperwork on both sides rose with clarity inside Harry’s mind.

Harry inhaled, his eyes wide. He held his breath.

Okay, let’s not start the internal screaming just yet. There has to be more to this than that… and hopefully less than that, too.

A hand touched his shoulder. Harry exhaled, looking over at Luna. She smiled at him and the tension dissolved in his chest.

“Maybe a staff meeting?” said Luna, tilting her head to the side.

Harry blinked. “What?”

“You could have a staff meeting with the other teachers. I’m sure they’ll be glad to tell you everything you need to know about the Headmaster.”

“Yes, that’s a brilliant idea,” said Hermione, nodding. She tucked her lip underneath her teeth. “If you’re really serious about this…”

Yes.

Yes, I’m serious about this.

“I am,” said Harry, strength entering his voice. “I’m going to change everything, even roommate arrangements.

Hermione nodded, as if she wasn’t surprised by his answer. She appeared a bit resigned, sighing. “Well, I’m sure the teachers will help you.”

“You got a lot of work on your hands, but only you’re crazy enough to do it,” said Draco with a snort. “

“They have to, mate,” said Ron, grinning. He threw a thumb over his shoulder. “Anything is better than her.”

“Speaking of which…” began Hermione, a bit breathless. She glanced over at Umbridge. She dropped her voice. “What are we going to do about her?”

The woman bristled, glaring over at them.

Harry looked at Umbridge, his gaze hardening with ice. “Right.” His eyes narrowed. He folded his arms and leveled her with his sternest glare. “I suppose it’s time to do something about you. You’ve cause enough problems. So… Dolores Umbridge, do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

The fury in her eyes didn’t waver.

“Look, it’s fine if you don’t care,” said Harry with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Wonderful, you’re a terrible person. Congratulations.” He slowly clapped three times. He sneered, not realizing just how much he mimicked Snape. “Want a prize?”

Her mouth opened, yet no sound was heard; she turned a darker shade of puce.

“Cat got your tongue?” asked Harry, his smirk deepening. It vanished a moment later. “It’s not okay to pretend and lie about this. Don’t you dare act like you’re innocent. I don’t care whyyou did it. No one cares about your political agenda. No, you better acknowledge that you did something wrong.”

His thoughts turned to the two students left in the Hospital Wing. Both Selina Moore and Euan Abercrombie were in critical condition. They were worsening each passing day. A thirteen year old girl and an eleven year old boy were both fighting for their lives – innocent, defenseless children.

Indignation burned through the entire foundation of Hogwarts.

“You used an illegal object on the students,” whispered Harry . “It will weaken their magic, for some. You did that. You ruined their futures—their lives. They will struggle to find their place in the wizarding world because of you. And two of these students may never have a future at all.”

Umbridge didn’t try to say anything. She gritted her teeth, grinding them. She glared at him with all her might, as if she wanted nothing more than to gouge out his eyes with her bare hands.

No remorse.

“What happens if they die?” demanded Harry. The air shook; the floor beneath their feet trembled. Magic responded. Along the edges of the room, magic rose with flame like shadows. It curled upwards, circling the perimeter of the office. The portraits on the walls gasped, letting out hush whispers.

Still no remorse.

So be it.

“You will be a murderer,” whispered Harry, his eyes narrowing.

A chill entered the air.

“Luna, would you remove the silencing charm on her. I want to hear her answer.”

Her excuses. Will she have any?

Luna nodded, her wand flicking elegantly. Umbridge inhaled, her eyes blazing with her frustrations and anger. But she didn’t have a chance to speak.

The magic stilled along the walls. An ancient element echoed through the air. It flowed into his voice, giving it strength beyond the natural.

“What have you to say for yourself!?” shouted Harry, his voice powerful. Those words were weighed with magic itself, with the voice of Hogwarts herself.

Umbridge flinched. “There is nothing wrong with discipline!” she snapped, her chest puffing up. “You so obviously need it,” she said, shaking her head quickly. A maniacal light entered her eyes. “Defying your elders and making a mockery of this school—”

“I am?” hissed Harry, raising an eyebrow. “This office wouldn’t open for you, but it did for me.” Harry strode forward, glaring down at her. “What does that say about you?”

“My position has been sanctioned by the minister himself!” cried Umbridge, trying to make herself taller. It wasn’t effective. “That’s what this school needs: order.”

“So… death is, then?” whispered Harry. “To gain this order, death is an acceptable punishment?”

He could see it in her eyes. There was no remorse for what she had done. She didn’t care if someone died because of her actions. She delighted in the torture of her students. She wanted power and control. Her heart was buried within the darkness of her desires and actions.

She didn’t turn from her choices.

And neither would he.

The magic within stone flared to life. It burst through the walls, climbing to the ceiling. She had made her decision. Tendrils of magic flowed around Harry, glimmering as they entered his throat.

Ancient magic roared to life.

“Until the ministry of magic accepts that you have committed crimes against the students of this school, you will be her prisoner,” said Harry, his voice flooding with that same odd power, one that was not his alone. Words filled his mouth, an unknown accent whispered along his tongue. “A prison awaits you in my courtyard. The elements have no mercy, fitting for one who harms those under my protection. There is mercy for no one who dares to harm my children.”

The threads returned, shimmering with life. They wound around Umbridge, twisting and twirling around her entire body. Then, as if she were drained through a small pipe in the floor, she was sucked away; a resounding crack echoed in her wake.

The magic calmed, fading away in a single instant.

Exhaustion sagged through Harry. He slipped to the floor, his back sliding against the desk. He hunched over between his bent knees, letting out a low sigh. Luna knelt beside him, staying at his side.

Hermione sucked in her breath, her eyes wide. “I thought…” she breathed. “I thought you can’t apparate inside Hogwarts.”

“The house elves can,” murmured Draco, walking to the spot where Umbridge had once stood. He studied the area, his eyebrows furrowing.

“She escaped?!” gasped Ron, outraged.

“No,” said Harry, shaking his head. “She didn’t. She’s still on the grounds. The castle did this. She’s in… Umbridge is in the courtyard.”

‘A prison awaits you in my courtyard.’

He could remember saying that, but he couldn’t connect himself with the words – as if something had taken hold over his voice.

What was that?

The castle?

For a moment, he gazed upward, looking through the portraits. He had no idea the castle was more than a mere building. The more he thought on her, the more he felt the life that breathed through every stone. The castle was aware of everythingwithin her walls.

And now she was retaliating.

The castle is sentient…

How did I go four entire school years and not learn that?

What other secrets did the castle hold?

“She speaks through him,” whispered one of the portraits, awe in his voice.

“It has been decades since she spoke last,” said Dippet, his expression softening with reverence. “We cannot afford to reject this Headmaster, boy that he may be. She has truly chosen him, with no doubt to be had now.”

Wonderful.

Her approval meant energy being sapped from his body. It was great that all the portraits were suddenly on his side about this, but he hoped the castle wouldn’t make this a common thing. It would be far too draining on him.

Harry sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. But a glow of pride swelled in his chest.

They had done it. Umbridge was no longer in charge. The castle had done something to her – he wasn’t quite sure what, just yet – and she wouldn’t hurt anyone else again. It was a victory.

So, why did he have an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach that this wasn’t over?

“Harry James Potter! You let me in this minute or else I’ll have you gutting all sorts of disgusting creatures, from frogs to flobberworms, for the rest of your life.”

Oh, that’s why.

He won’t kill me… right?

Right?