When Adrian returned to the Hogwarts Great Hall, breakfast was nearly over, the tables were already beginning to clear as students finished their morning meals.
However, there were still quite a few students scattered throughout the hall, lingering over their food and conversations. The atmosphere was particularly more relaxed than usual.
Perhaps because the holidays had only recently ended and students were still riding the pleasant afterglow of their time away, the young witches and wizards were in exceptionally high spirits. Laughter resounded from multiple tables, and vibrant discussions about holiday adventures filled the air.
Unlike in the Muggle world where students often dreaded returning to school after breaks, most students at Hogwarts harbored absolutely no resistance toward the idea of attending school itself. In fact, many were genuinely happy to be back within the castle.
This enthusiastic attitude was especially obvious and visible among the first-year students who had only been at Hogwarts for half a year. Their eyes still held that special gleam of wonder and excitement that older students had gradually lost through familiarity.
For most young witches and wizards, the mere fact that they couldn't freely use magic during the holidays that they had to restrain themselves and hide their abilities around Muggle relatives was exceedingly torturous. Returning to Hogwarts meant freedom to practice spells, to study fascinating subjects, to simply free without hiding.
Beyond observing the cheerful student population, Adrian also spotted Umbridge's figure across the hall.
Today she was still wearing her typically garish pink suit that seemed to assault the eyes with its brightness, taking short, brisk steps that made her look like a determined toad as she walked directly toward the Gryffindor table.
Adrian's attention sharpened immediately.
Only two people were sitting at the Gryffindor table at that particular moment, Harry and Ron.
They seemed to be arguing quietly about something, their heads were close together in intense discussion, completely unaware of Umbridge's approach.
Adrian sensed that Umbridge was almost sneering with anticipation, her expression had that particular gleeful malice. Curiosity piqued and sensing potential trouble, he moved closer discreetly, positioning himself where he could observe without being obvious.
The scene shifted focus to the Gryffindor dining table.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley," Umbridge began in greeting, her tone extremely composed and deceptively pleasant, the kind of sweetness that warned of poison beneath.
The very moment Harry and Ron heard Umbridge's sugary voice behind them, they immediately tensed up, their shoulders went stiff in alarm. They even stopped their movements mid-motion, Ron's fork was freezing halfway to his mouth.
Clearly this instinctive reaction was somewhat unusual and telling. Most students didn't respond to even her with quite such obvious alarm.
Although Harry already had his growing suspicions about why she might be approaching them specifically, he still turned his head intentionally slowly toward Umbridge. He kept his expression blank as he asked with forced calm, "Is there something you need, Professor Umbridge?"
"What do you think?" Umbridge smiled mysteriously, her toad-like face was stretching into an expression that was meant to be knowing. She asked with false casualness, "Mr. Potter, please tell me today's date."
"January second," Harry answered cautiously, his mind already racing to figure out where this was going.
Umbridge's smile grew even wider and more unpleasant, revealing too many teeth. "Then please tell me, where did you go two days ago in the afternoon? And what exactly did you do during that time?"
Under the table and out of Umbridge's sight, Ron lightly nudged Harry's leg urgently and whispered just barely audibly, "Just as we thought, we didn't see wrong that day, she really was—"
Harry quietly but firmly kicked Ron's foot in return, signaling him sharply to stop talking immediately before he made things worse.
"I don't understand what you mean, Professor," Harry said aloud, straightening his back and looking directly at Umbridge with fake innocence. His green eyes met hers without flinching.
"Is that so?" Umbridge crossed her arms across her chest, her posture was radiating absolute confidence and barely contained triumph.
What she said next set off immediate alarm bells ringing loudly in Harry's mind.
"That afternoon, I happened to be working on business in Hogsmeade village," Umbridge said slowly, drawing out each word for maximum effect, "and if I'm not mistaken and I rarely am—you appeared there as well, Mr. Potter. You were quite clearly visible on the main street."
She paused to let that sink in before continuing with false concern.
"As far as I know, students who remain at school during the holidays are strictly forbidden from leaving the school premises without explicit permission—that clearly violates established school rules. And furthermore..."
She deliberately paused again, carefully observing the subtle changes in expression on Harry's face before continuing at a leisurely pace, savoring every word.
"You were also accompanied by a first-year student at the time. Am I correct in this observation, Mr. Potter?"
'We're completely done for,' Ron thought with rising panic, casting a pleading glance at Harry as if begging him to somehow fix this dreadful situation.
However, to Ron's surprise, Harry showed absolutely no visible signs of panic at all. His face remained remarkably composed.
His eyes looked directly at Umbridge without wavering as he said with perfect expressionlessness, "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Professor Umbridge. We stayed in our dormitory the entire day. With snow falling that heavily outside, who would want to walk all that way to Hogsmeade? It would be miserable."
The smile on Umbridge's face became even more sugary and false as she reached into her robes with unhurried slowness. She carefully retrieved a small pink envelope, holding it up like a prize.
"Is that so?" she said with obvious satisfaction, pulling several glossy photographs from the envelope one by one. "How very unfortunate for your story—the assistants accompanying me at work just happened to capture these images."
She spread the photographs out on the table with a flourish, arranging them like evidence at a trial.
In the photos, Umbridge stood in the very center of the cobblestone street, facing the camera directly with her familiar false smile plastered across her face.
Not far behind her in the background, clearly visible to anyone who looked, the figures of Harry, Ron, and Hermione were plainly identifiable. Hermione was captured bending down to adjust and tighten the scarf around a shorter student, that was obviously John.
However, John's face wasn't entirely clear in the photograph, slightly blurred by motion or distance.
Ron nervously looked at the damning photographs spread before them; his face turned pale.
Harry felt completely speechless at the absurdity of the situation.
He had the distinct, certain feeling that Umbridge had deliberately arranged these photos specifically to catch them. This surely wasn't coincidence, she'd been watching, waiting, and planning.
Damn it, what kind of incredibly bored, petty person secretly photographs a few students sneaking out of school on the street and then specifically brings out the photos days later to threaten them with evidence?
Was this really something a proper professor should spend their time doing? Didn't she have any work to do?
Just because they'd talked back to her a few times before in class, did she really have to be so vindictive and petty about it?
Still, Harry had to admit with sinking resignation, breaking school rules was an undeniable fact. And being caught with photographic evidence meant facing punishment. There was no way around it.
Now he desperately needed to think of some way to deflect this disaster somehow, to minimize the damage.
Seeing Harry and Ron both looking so tense and cornered, Umbridge clearly thought she already had complete victory firmly in hand. Her smile widened further.
She tapped Harry's image in the photograph with one fat finger and said with satisfaction,
"It seems we have quite solid evidence here, doesn't it? Breaking school rules, leaving school without proper permission, and irresponsibly taking a first-year student with you on your unauthorized adventure—I think that's more than enough to ensure you receive the punishment you deserve."
Ron's face turned stony pale.
However, Harry simply gazed calmly at the photographs for a moment, his mind was working rapidly.
Then he spoke clearly. "We already obtained Professor McGonagall's permission beforehand."
Ron's head whipped around to stare at Harry in complete shock, his eyes went wide as saucers and his mouth was falling slightly open.
He certainly didn't remember them ever applying to Professor McGonagall for any such permission. They'd snuck out through the secret passage without telling anyone.
Harry was somewhat impressed with himself for being able to lie so boldly and convincingly with such a straight face, without even a flicker of guilt showing.
Of course, since the target of this lie was Umbridge, he felt absolutely no psychological pressure or moral qualms at all. She deserved it.
The triumphant expression on Umbridge's toad-like face froze completely for a moment, her smile was faltering.
"Oh, really?" she said slowly, her complexion was visibly darkening with suppressed anger. Her small eyes narrowed to suspicious slits.
At the same time, Harry felt secretly pleased with himself despite the danger.
He knew from observation and gossip that Umbridge and Professor McGonagall didn't have a good relationship at all, they barely tolerated each other. So Umbridge probably wouldn't actually verify this claim personally.
He just needed to firmly stick to this fabricated story and get through this confrontation somehow.
"That's absolutely right, Professor McGonagall already gave us permission to go to Hogsmeade," Ron chimed in helpfully, finally reading the situation correctly. He added for good measure, "If you don't believe us, you can go ask Professor McGonagall yourself."
Umbridge's bulging, toad-like eyes swept back and forth between the two boys suspiciously, as if carefully weighing their words and trying to detect deception.
Just then, something unexpected happened.
"I can't simply pretend I didn't hear that," an unexpected voice interjected crisply from directly behind them.
Harry and Ron whipped their heads around in horror to discover that Professor McGonagall had somehow appeared standing right beside them without either of them noticing her approach.
She was looking down at the two of them with what appeared to be a smile on her stern face.
But Harry felt with sinking certainty that there was anger behind that tight smile, fury at being used as an excuse for rule-breaking.
"I don't recall ever giving you permission to leave the school grounds," she said clearly, throwing her sharp gaze on Harry with focus. She slowly dropped her smile entirely. "Perhaps you can explain this situation to me properly, Mr. Potter."
'How incredibly unlucky,' Harry thought with resignation, feeling somewhat helpless at this disaster.
Of course, even at this desperate moment he still had one last resort available to him, one final escape route.
That was:
"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry said quickly, lowering his head in what he hoped was appropriately apologetic submission. "We shouldn't have lied."
Ron immediately did the same, ducking his head down.
By this time, breakfast had officially ended, and students began leaving the hall one after another in groups, heading off to prepare for their first classes of the new term.
Professor McGonagall's stern, disapproving gaze rested heavily on the two guilty boys for what felt like an eternity before she finally nodded slowly.
"Very well," she said, and she seemed somewhat satisfied that the two had honestly confessed their wrongdoing rather than continuing to lie. "Since you've admitted your mistake openly, come to my office this evening after dinner and we'll discuss in detail how to appropriately handle this matter."
At this point, Umbridge, who had been standing nearby and listening to this entire exchange with great interest, spoke up eagerly.
She had already learned the truth from McGonagall's words—those two little brats had been shamelessly lying to her face.
"Professor McGonagall, let me handle their detention," Umbridge said with concealed viciousness, her voice was dripping with vindictive satisfaction. "After all, I was the one who discovered their rule violation in the first place."
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