A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Time ticked away.

Felix and his companions grew increasingly anxious. Harry fixed his gaze on the flames flickering in the fireplace, hoping they might suddenly change color or a wizard would emerge from within to tell them what had occurred. Or even a messenger Patronus would suffice... but nothing happened.

The crackling of the wood filled the office, the atmosphere turning heavy. Harry attributed it to the high temperature; it was late July, nearly August, and not many people opted to light a fire during this time.

"I need a constant temperature pendant..." Harry's thoughts meandered aimlessly. But then, heavier concerns flooded in; he couldn't contain the thoughts popping into his head... He had handed over the hair willingly, agreed to the plan, and if Sirius were to suffer as a result, it would be solely his doing.

Just then, the flames in the fireplace suddenly surged, shooting up to a person's height and changing color to a lush green, spiraling as a figure emerged.

It was Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Harry's heart raced. He heard a muffled shriek beside him, but he couldn't discern if it came from Ron or Hermione. The flames reverted to orange, signaling no one else behind. Harry's heart clenched.

Where was Sirius? What about Mrs. Bones? He yelled inwardly.

"How did it go?" Felix jumped up from the sofa, the coin he had been fiddling with held tightly in his fist.

"Fairly well," Kingsley said, sweat on his face, clothes disheveled, smudged with shades of earthy brown, like someone who had just been through a battle. "We apprehended two Death Eaters, the escaped Macnair and McNair, Augustus McNair."

"Voldemort? Was he there?" Felix asked, furrowing his brow.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione held their breath, eagerly gazing at Kingsley, who shook his head, looking puzzled and perplexed. "No sign of him. In fact, it was just these two Death Eaters. The rest were a motley crew—Dementors, a few werewolves and vampires, and some dark wizards from who knows where... Bones believes they fell under the Imperius Curse."

"So Voldemort was merely testing? Observing from the shadows?" Felix muttered to himself, dissatisfied with the outcome.

"It seems so," Kingsley panted. "There were plenty of foot soldiers, a horde charging at us, caught us off guard. I even wondered when Death Eaters had become this courageous... the casualties occurred then—"

"Casualties?" Hermione gasped.

"Oh, no deaths," Kingsley clarified. "Some injuries, nothing life-threatening—I continue, those two Death Eaters stayed further back, merely conducting reconnaissance. Sirius and Bones coordinated to bring one down; as for the other... I suspect Dumbledore intervened."

Felix pieced together the whole scenario.

"And where's Sirius now?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"With Bones, I came back alone to report, and to bring some people to escort the captives back, ah, and of course—a healer." Kingsley said, turning to Felix. "Mr. Harp, this operation barely met the expectations. You can take them away now; Mrs. Weasley has been arranged in Arthur's office."

Felix nodded silently. Then, with urgency, Kingsley hurried out of the office.

"Let's go; I'll take you back," Felix said.

"Is that it?" Harry felt incredulous.

"No choice, Voldemort didn't take the bait," Felix shrugged. "This is war; you can't expect the enemy to make a fatal mistake at the start, and that's it forever, though..." He frowned, recalling the report from Lucius, Voldemort had been unusually low-key lately, barely showing up.

Of course, not discounting his possible aim to rally followers.

He dispatched those Death Eaters who had escaped from Azkaban, those in the shadows and not easily traceable.

"Let's meet up with Mrs. Weasley first, then you'll head back to the Order's headquarters," Felix said, leading them out of the Minister's office, descending via the elevator to the second floor where the Office for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts was located. They stepped out into a corridor lined with doors on either side.

"We need to go through two doors, then turn left, then right, and keep going straight to the end of the corridor," Ron said to Harry, who seemed somewhat dejected. "I've been here a few times; the cubicles of the Unspeakables are quite distinctive..."

After entering the first oak door, they reached an open area, where the Unspeakables worked. At the moment, not many were present; those who were seemed a mix of excitement and worry.

"The operation was sudden... not much information..."

"Hope for good results."

"Didn't Kingsley say it was a great success?"

"Chesteron, congratulations on your promotion; you must be the youngest head of the Beast Division?"

"I got some help from home," a young man said modestly, subtly displaying his family crest on his chest.

...

"Chesteron Avery!?" Hermione suddenly turned around, sharply, staring at the boastful young man.

Chesteron stood in a small cubicle, looking in their direction. His smile quickly faded to an air of haughtiness. "It's me, and you're..."

His gaze shifted among Harry's trio and then to Felix behind them. Then, his voice faltered, "So, the ceremony's over?"

However, Hermione was not in a forgiving mood. She locked eyes with him and muttered, "You evil—"

"Hermione," Felix interrupted her.

Chesteron appeared flustered, wearing an expression swinging between intimidation and venom. Finally, he huffed and turned away without another word.

Hermione continued to glare.

"A person like him got a promotion?" They had passed through the second oak door, walking down the deserted corridor. Hermione complained bitterly, surprising Harry and Ron with her fervent demeanor.

They had never heard of Hermione having any connection with that person.

"I remember!" Harry suddenly exclaimed. "Avery, remember? At the graveyard, the Death Eater Voldemort first tortured because he pretended to be under the Imperius Curse after Voldemort's fall, thereby escaping punishment..."

Ron also recalled. "There was something like that, but the voice doesn't quite match. That Avery seemed older—"

"Doesn't this further prove that their whole family is corrupt?" Hermione remarked acerbically. "Professor, why doesn't the Ministry apprehend all the Death Eaters whose names they know?"

"Calm down, Miss Granger," Felix said. "The Ministry represents order; they can't just arrest people without cause... though there's certainly covert surveillance. One escape doesn't count for much; Lucius can produce a whole slew of names to send to Azkaban."

But what might Voldemort, without influence and hope for ruling, do, nobody knew.

The crux of this war had always been Voldemort alone.

"Mrs. Bones really ought to thoroughly investigate those pure-blood extremists..." Hermione muttered under her breath. Ron glanced over, and she hastened to add, "Oh, of course, not your family; you're—"

"—a pure-blood traitor," Ron nodded, amusing himself.

On the second floor, in the

Department of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, they found Mrs. Weasley, relatively composed, with Percy by her side. Seeing Harry and the others come in, she rushed over, embracing and kissing them.

"Thank goodness you're all okay—"

"Mom," Ron struggled. "We didn't even leave!"

"Well, even so..." she chuckled, "your dad went to help out. I heard no one got hurt, and they captured a bunch of troublemakers. It was a swift and successful operation... Mrs. Bones took the lead; we've got ourselves a good Minister."

Mrs. Weasley seemed very pleased with the outcome. Harry glanced at Professor Hagrid, who wisely didn't mention that the greatest danger of the entire operation—Voldemort—hadn't shown up.

"We'll wait a bit for Arthur, let me see him," Mrs. Weasley said, a bit embarrassed. "Then we'll head back, prepare for your birthday party," she said to Harry. "And you, Percy, you must come tonight."

"Mom, I'm really busy," Percy grumbled. "I've got a dozen reports to write—"

"Take Penelope along—if you forget, that'll be risky," Mrs. Weasley finished her sentence matter-of-factly, leaving a reluctant Percy behind.

They took the elevator down to the Ministry's main hall, gazing at the wall with the gilded fireplace from afar.

After ten minutes—

Felix stared at the fireplace area, where the fires surged up, figures triumphantly emerging. The magnificent hall suddenly buzzed with excitement, applause thundering.

The Unspeakables escorted over twenty wizards in black robes, all wearing hoods, resembling Death Eaters. However, their masks had been removed, their robes dirty, being led forward unsteadily.

In Felix's eyes, these assailants—most of them looked quite downcast, some pale with thick, dark circles under their eyes like they hadn't slept in days, making them stand out amidst the crowd.

But among the vampires was one peculiar individual. He looked in good spirits, constantly looking around without a hint of fear. When his gaze landed in Felix's direction, he broke into a joyful grin.

>

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