The remainder of the summer at Grimmauld Place was a period of quiet, defiant peace. The victory at the Ministry hearing had been a significant blow to Fudge's campaign to discredit Harry, and it solidified their small, growing circle of allies. Ariana stayed with Harry, Sirius, and Remus, the four of them forming an unconventional but deeply loyal family unit. They spent their days cleaning out the dark corners of the Black family home and their evenings in the cozy kitchen, listening to Sirius and Remus tell stories of the first war against Voldemort, providing Harry with a real, unfiltered education on the enemy he was destined to face.
When it was time to leave for Hogwarts, Ariana and Harry traveled together from Grimmauld Place, meeting Hermione, the Weasleys, and their other friends on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. The atmosphere on the Hogwarts Express was markedly different from previous years. The wizarding world, fed a steady diet of Ministry propaganda by the Daily Prophet, was in a state of willful denial. The prevailing attitude was that Harry Potter was an unstable attention-seeker and Dumbledore was a troublemaking old fool.
As Harry walked down the train corridor, he was met with hostile whispers, suspicious glares, and pointed fingers. But the moment Ariana appeared at his side, her expression as serene and unbothered as ever, the atmosphere changed. The whispers died. The glares were averted. No one was willing to be openly antagonistic to the boy who was so clearly under the personal protection of the girl who had legally dismantled the Minister of Magic and whose intellectual prowess was the stuff of legend. Her presence was a shield, a silent, powerful declaration that Harry was not to be trifled with.
They found a compartment with Hermione, Neville, and Ginny. Later, Daphne also joined them, her presence now largely accepted as the new normal. The journey was a comfortable bubble of friendship amidst the wider hostility of the train.
When they arrived at Hogwarts, the first sign that this year would be unlike any other was sitting at the staff table. There, dressed in disgustingly frilly, fluffy, pink robes, was Dolores Umbridge. She had a face like a pale toad, with a wide, flabby mouth and bulging, pouchy eyes. A sickly sweet smile was plastered on her face, but her eyes held a cold, calculating cruelty.
"What is she doing here?" Harry hissed, sliding into his seat at the Gryffindor table.
"Dolores Umbridge," Ariana stated, her voice a low, clinical note. "Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Fudge has planted a spy. A political operative to undermine Dumbledore's authority and control the narrative within the school. This is his response to losing the trial. Predictable."
The Sorting Ceremony began, the new first-years looking more terrified than usual in the tense atmosphere. But after the last of them had been sorted, Professor McGonagall stepped forward with one final piece of parchment.
"We have one more student to be sorted this evening," she announced, a rare note of warmth in her voice. "Having completed an intensive course of private tutoring to catch up with her agemates, she will be joining our third year. Please welcome Astoria Greengrass."
A ripple of surprise went through the hall. From the crowd of first-years, a small, delicate girl with dark hair and bright, happy eyes stepped forward. It was Daphne's sister. She walked to the stool not with fear, but with a quiet, shining confidence. The shadow of weariness that had haunted her features was completely gone. She looked healthy, vibrant, and full of life.
The Sorting Hat was placed on her head. It barely touched her hair before it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"
A loud cheer went up from the Slytherin table, led by a beaming Daphne. Astoria skipped over to her sister, giving her a hug before sitting down. Her eyes scanned the Great Hall until she found Ariana at the Gryffindor table. She gave her a brilliant, grateful smile, a silent acknowledgement of the girl who had given her this future.
After the feast, Dumbledore gave his start-of-term speech, his usual twinkle somewhat dimmed by the presence of Umbridge. He introduced her as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, a post she had been appointed to by the Ministry itself.
Umbridge stood and gave a short, simpering speech, punctuated by a little "hem, hem," that was like nails on a chalkboard. Her words were honeyed poison, full of talk about "progress for progress's sake being discouraged" and the need for "preserving what must be preserved." It was a declaration of war on everything Dumbledore stood for.
As the students filed out of the Great Hall, Ariana and her friends walked together.
"I can't believe it," Hermione fumed, her face thunderous. "That woman! The Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts!"
"It was the next logical step for Fudge," Ariana said calmly. "He could not discredit Harry legally, so he will now attempt to discredit him ideologically, by controlling the flow of information within the school." She looked at Harry. "Her class will be a waste of time. She will not teach you how to defend yourself. She will teach you that there is nothing to defend against."
"So what do we do?" Ron asked, looking grim.
Ariana's expression was cool and determined. "We do what we have always done. We adapt. We form our own protocols. We create our own sources of information and our own training. The Ministry may have taken over the classroom, but they do not control our education."
She looked at her group of friends—the Gryffindors, the Slytherins together. The pink toad in their pond was an ugly, unpleasant variable. But they had faced down Basilisks, Dementors, and the machinations of dark lords. They would not be defeated by a bureaucrat in a pink cardigan. The battle for Hogwarts had begun.