Jane Yu, once again a prisoner, found herself transferred from one prison to another—a prison within a prison.
The joy she once felt when gifting novels and other spiritual nourishment to her friends now felt like a distant memory, replaced by an overwhelming sense of despair.
Her current predicament reminded her of the time she tore up her textbooks after finishing the college entrance exams, only to be told by her parents that she would need to repeat the year.
Utterly bored, she couldn't fathom how she would endure the endless stretch of time ahead.
She wandered aimlessly around the Headmaster's office:
The fireplace had been cut off from the Floo Network, securely blocked by wooden planks; Fawkes' gilded perch stood empty, its owner having flown away alongside it.
As for the Sorting Hat—it was nowhere to be found, its usual stand conspicuously vacant.
The silver instruments that once adorned the desk had vanished, and the Pensieve that used to occupy a corner of the room was gone as well.
The bookshelves lining the walls, once stacked nearly to the ceiling, had been emptied.
The only things left in the Headmaster's office were the portraits of past headmasters, offering little in the way of entertainment.
Or perhaps there was something—
For instance, the bones of Voldemort's ancestors, which might make for an interesting jigsaw puzzle.
But just as she donned her dragon-hide gloves and began fiddling with the bones, producing a series of creaks and groans—
One of the slumbering portraits on the wall, that of Phineas Nigellus Black, was startled awake. Upon seeing the student before him, he immediately let out a loud cry:
"It's you again! You again! First, you damaged the Sorting Hat, and now you're desecrating the bones of the dead!"
"Why hasn't Dumbledore expelled you yet—why are you still here tormenting my eyes—"
Jane rolled her eyes in annoyance, stood up, and flipped his portrait around so that he faced the wall.
"I've already been expelled, thank you very much. And if you don't want to look, then don't."
"Turn me back!" the portrait thrashed against the wall, making a thumping noise. "How dare you treat a headmaster like this!"
This commotion woke up all the other headmasters hanging on the wall. Sensing the potential for gossip, they rubbed their eyes and turned their curious gazes toward Jane.
"So this is the child Albus adopted," "I heard he predicted this child might end up here," "He cleared out the office specifically to prevent it from exploding…"
Whispers and murmurs filled the air, while Phineas Nigellus Black continued to bang against the wall, shouting:
"What? How could you let yourself get expelled? Bringing shame upon Slytherin!"
Jane was utterly baffled by this apparent contradiction. How could the same Phineas Nigellus Black, who had previously called for her expulsion, now berate her for being expelled?
Her ears were beginning to ache from his incessant shouting. For the first time in her boredom, she found some amusement:
"And what right do you have to criticize me? Your own reputation among students has dropped from first place to second, and you don't even seem to realize it."
Phineas' voice abruptly halted, and his portrait stopped shaking. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke indignantly:
"I don't care what the young people think of me! Being a headmaster is the most annoying job—students always think they're right—"
Jane smirked and resumed fiddling with the femur in her hands. Phineas' portrait twitched occasionally, and finally, he hesitantly asked:
"This ranking you mentioned… who's in first place now?"
It must be said that, as a Slytherin and a member of the Black family, his competitive and prideful nature had gotten the better of him.
Clearly, he believed his abilities were enough to secure him the top spot on this "influence on the school" ranking.
"Dolores Umbridge," Jane answered succinctly without pausing her movements.
"What?" Phineas' voice rose by several octaves. "She's not even a headmaster, just a professor! How could she surpass me?"
Jane could hear the sound of him standing up, moving his chair aside, and pacing back and forth within the portrait.
"Little girl, don't lie to me! What accomplishments could she possibly have?"
Jane thought carefully about Umbridge's methods before replying:
"6 a.m. morning runs, 12 hours of study every day, all clubs and organizations disbanded, entertainment banned… constant exams and assignments…"
"Students are forbidden to protest, and all letters to parents are intercepted. The outside world has no idea what's happening here."
"New forms of punishment: detention, running laps, frog jumps… Students are prohibited from using spells. Oh, and her greatest achievement might be expelling me."
The other headmasters let out exclamations of shock. A chubby old wizard with a red nose clenched his fists and exclaimed angrily:
"This is outrageous! How can someone without love for students be a professor? She only seeks to enjoy her power and the pleasure of oppressing others!"
"Shameless! A mind full of tormenting others! Never in Hogwarts' history has there been such a vile professor!"
A sharp-eyed witch nodded in agreement, expressing her anger:
"This is outright abuse of students! Stifling their development and imagination! Without hobbies, how can they innovate and create?"
"Teaching wizards like Muggles—what a joke! What can endless exams achieve? Are students supposed to make a living by taking tests?"
Amid the voices of opposition and protest, only Phineas Nigellus Black remained deep in thought. After a long pause, he reluctantly said:
"Except for expelling a Slytherin and teaching wizards like Muggles, the rest of her methods are actually quite decent."
"Why didn't I think of that? Those little brats should be properly disciplined—running laps, frog jumps, morning and evening study sessions, exams… What excellent methods—"
"However, how dare she compare her teaching to mine? Teaching wizards like Muggles—such a disgraceful and lowly approach—"
Hearing these words, Jane finally understood why he was considered the most unpopular headmaster in Hogwarts history.
She noticed the other headmasters casting "kind" looks toward him—
And then they all disappeared from their own portraits, reappearing in Phineas' frame.
"What are you doing? Ah—! Stop! It hurts! Stop!"
"Help—stop! Don't hit me!"
Phineas' portrait shook violently as the righteous headmasters unleashed their fury on him. The pain even caused him to flip his own portrait over.
Bruised and battered, he lay sprawled within his frame, his overturned chair behind him. Before leaving, the red-nosed wizard didn't forget to give him one last kick.
Trembling, Phineas displayed the stubbornness characteristic of the Black family. Even while hanging on the wall, he refused to admit defeat:
"I'm not wrong! Little girl, students like you need to be disciplined—!"
Jane smirked coldly. She decided to strike where it hurt most, delivering one final blow to the competitive Slytherin headmaster:
"Really? Too bad your name and legacy will soon be erased from Hogwarts' history, while Umbridge will dominate half the school's records."
"After all, she's competing with you for these accomplishments. She won't let someone overshadow her."
Her words seemed to shatter Phineas Nigellus Black's psychological defenses. His portrait fell silent, his head lowered.
This piqued the curiosity of the surrounding portraits, who leaned in to observe his expression for their own amusement.
"Oh, Merlin—let me see." A witch with a gossipy expression leaned halfway into his frame, her other half still in her own portrait. "Is he crying? Are you crying? Are you really crying?"
Jane delivered the final blow:
"Look at your mindset and teaching methods. No wonder even your great-grandson speaks ill of you—sigh—"
Phineas let out a series of heavy breaths.
After a long pause, he suddenly raised his head, his goatee bristling and his hair standing on end. He roared:
"Sirius Black! That useless great-grandson of mine! Good for nothing!"
"Damn it, isn't he supposed to support Dumbledore? How could he let Umbridge run rampant here!"
He shook his fists, as if ready to storm back to 12 Grimmauld Place and scold his imagined treacherous descendant.
"What's that? Want to go back?" the gossipy witch interjected. "You should. Tell your great-grandson what's happening here. The outside world needs to know that this school is being taken over by darkness. We can't let Umbridge become headmaster."
"Besides," she continued, "didn't your teaching methods clash with hers? I remember you even banned Quidditch and used portraits as your spies. They said your rules outnumbered any previous headmaster's. Didn't you also forbid students from protesting your management?"
Jane listened intently to the headmasters' gossip, wishing she had some snacks to enjoy the show.
Hearing this, she added her own sarcastic comment:
"Too bad Umbridge outshines you. She's alive, and you're dead. I bet she'll erase you from the rankings entirely—"
She decided not to reveal that the ranking was actually a list of the "most disliked individuals" among students—
And not the "most influential figures" he had imagined.
Hopefully, when Phineas eventually learned the truth, he wouldn't cry again.
Phineas' face turned red. He shouted:
"Shut up! I'm only going back to educate my descendants! It has nothing to do with rankings or school history—certainly not because her teaching methods resemble mine—at least I, Phineas Nigellus Black, would never teach our noble wizards like Muggles! And I would never expel a Slytherin student!"
With that, his figure vanished from the portrait in a huff, leaving Jane to light a metaphorical candle for Sirius.
"Triggered and embarrassed," the witch shrugged, explaining to Jane, "That's how tsunderes are. Those who know, know."
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