Harry took Ariana's advice to heart. His Occlumency lessons with Snape remained a grueling, painful ordeal, but they were no longer fruitless. Instead of trying to empty his mind, he learned to fill it, to build walls out of his strongest, happiest memories. The image of soaring on his Firebolt, the feeling of his friends around him at the Yule Ball, the memory of his parents' smiling faces in his photo album—these became his shields. He was still thrown out of Snape's office every night, exhausted and with a pounding headache, but he was beginning to hold his ground, to push back, even if only for a few precious seconds.
The larger battle, however, was being fought in the court of public opinion within Hogwarts. The Ministry's campaign to discredit Harry, led by the Daily Prophet's steady stream of articles questioning his stability and Dumbledore's judgment, was having its intended effect. Doubt was a weed, and it was taking root everywhere.
The most fertile ground for this doubt was within Gryffindor itself. While Harry's closest friends formed an unshakable core of support, others in his year were wavering, caught between loyalty to a housemate and the overwhelming narrative being pushed by the Ministry. Not to mention reckless bravery was no doubt going to overcome the fear they had of Ariana's presence.
The confrontation came one evening in the crowded common room. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were working on a Potions essay when Seamus Finnigan, flanked by a few other wavering Gryffindors, marched over to their table.
"Alright, Potter," Seamus began, his voice loud enough to draw the attention of the entire room.
"My mum's been reading the Prophet. She doesn't want me coming back to Hogwarts next term.
She thinks you're… well, she thinks you're lying about You-Know-Who."
Harry's face hardened. "Then your mum should read something other than the Prophet," he shot back.
"She believes the Ministry!" Seamus insisted, his voice rising. "And so do a lot of us! You haven't offered any proof, just stories! You're making us all targets for nothing!"
The room fell silent. Everyone turned to watch the standoff. This was the moment the silent doubt became an open rebellion.
Ron started to get to his feet, his face red with anger, but before he could say anything, the other students turned their attention to the fourth member of their group, the one who had been sitting quietly, observing the entire exchange. They looked at Ariana.
Her opinion was the one that truly mattered. She had never publicly confirmed or denied Harry's story. Her silence on the matter had been interpreted by some as doubt, by others as careful neutrality. Now, they were demanding she pick a side.
"What about you, Dumbledore?" Seamus challenged, turning to her. "You're the smartest one here. You're the one who took down Umbridge. You believe in logic. What do you think? Is he telling the truth, or is he just a liar looking for more attention?"
The entire common room held its breath. This was the moment of truth.
Ariana slowly, deliberately, placed a silken bookmark in her copy of Advanced Runic Symbology. She looked up, her periwinkle eyes calm and analytical, and met Seamus's challenging gaze. She did not look angry or defensive. She looked like a professor about to begin a lecture.
"Your question is based on a false premise, Seamus," she began, her voice quiet but carrying an authority that commanded the attention of every person in the room. "You are attempting to frame this as a simple binary choice: believe Harry, or believe the Ministry. A logical mind does not accept such simplistic frameworks. It analyzes the available data."
She gestured to Harry. "Let us consider the first data point: Harry Potter's character. You have shared a dormitory with him for over four years. In that time, has he demonstrated a pattern of pathological lying? Has he shown a narcissistic need for attention beyond that of a normal teenage boy who is, through no fault of his own, famous? Or has he consistently been a loyal, if occasionally reckless, friend who has faced mortal danger on multiple occasions to protect this school and its students?"
Seamus shuffled his feet, unable to answer. He knew Harry. He knew he wasn't a liar.
"Now," Ariana continued, her voice still perfectly calm, "let us consider the second data point: the
Ministry of Magic." She reached into her bag and produced a neatly folded copy of that morning's Daily Prophet. She opened it. "On page two, there is a lengthy article detailing Minister Fudge's new initiative to standardize cauldron bottom thickness. He is quoted as saying it is the 'most pressing issue facing the wizarding world today.' It is a campaign designed to make him look busy and effective, while pointedly ignoring any real problems."
She then calmly flipped to page seven. "On page seven, tucked away near the shipping news, is a small, two-inch column. The headline reads: 'Azkaban Security Breach: Ten High-Security Prisoners Escape.' It details the mass breakout of some of Voldemort's most fervent and dangerous followers, including Antonin Dolokhov and Augustus Rookwood. An event of catastrophic national importance."
She held up the paper. "So I ask you, Seamus. Which of these two sources do you find more credible? Your friend of four years, whose fundamental character you know to be honest? Or a government that publicly declares cauldron thickness to be a more pressing threat than a mass breakout of sadistic, dark wizards from our most secure prison?"
She folded the paper neatly and placed it on the table. Her gaze swept over the silent, captivated students.
"You ask if I believe Harry. I believe in data. The data suggests that Harry Potter is a reliable source, and that the Ministry of Magic, under its current leadership, is an insecure, politically motivated entity engaged in a campaign of deliberate misinformation to avoid facing a reality it finds inconvenient."
She looked directly at Seamus, her final question a precise, devastating checkmate. "So the question is not whether I believe Harry, Seamus. The question is, why do you choose to believe a demonstrably unreliable institution over a person you know and trust?"
The silence in the common room was absolute. She had not raised her voice. She had not performed a single spell. She had simply, logically, and ruthlessly dissected the Ministry's narrative and Seamus's doubt, laying the truth bare for all to see. She had armed them not with her belief, but with a method for finding their own.
Seamus Finnigan stood there, his face burning with a mixture of shame and dawning realization. He looked at Harry, then at the newspaper, then back at Ariana's calm, unassailable face. He had no response. He had been utterly, completely, and publicly defeated by logic.
Without another word, he turned and retreated back to his corner of the room, his small rebellion collapsing into dust. The tide of opinion in the Gryffindor common room had just turned, not because of loyalty or friendship, but because Ariana Dumbledore had proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that believing Harry Potter was the only logical choice.