"Our Care of Magical Creatures professor has had to leave for a while due to certain matters. During this time, Professor Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank will be taking over the class."
After Dumbledore finished speaking, there was a rather lukewarm round of applause, followed by Harry's audible sigh of relief.
"I knew it," Harry said gratefully. "Hagrid's fine."
He believed in Dumbledore's words—most likely, Dumbledore had just sent Hagrid off on some task.
As long as Hagrid hadn't been fired, everything would be okay.
Still, he couldn't help feeling a bit uneasy, since Dumbledore hadn't said how long Grubbly-Plank would be teaching.
Dumbledore continued, "We are also pleased to welcome Professor Oz Hield, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
The Great Hall burst into warm applause—after all, who didn't like a good-looking teacher?
Among a staff lineup that leaned older, Oz Hield truly stood out.
Her beautiful face made many young boys' hearts thump wildly with budding admiration.
John clapped along as well.
Daphne was staring at Oz's face, seemingly lost in thought.
"She's an Auror," Harry whispered. "I saw her at the Ministry of Magic. And she was with someone from Johnny Silverhand's group."
"Auror?" Ron looked confused. "What's that got to do with Johnny Silverhand?"
"Not sure. Seems like Johnny Silverhand's people are friends with her," Harry said uncertainly. After all, they'd only met once.
That one time, he had been thoroughly dazzled by Johnny Silverhand.
The man threw around money like it was nothing, so extravagantly that Harry's own little vault felt like a beggar's corner by comparison.
Since becoming famous, this was the first time Harry had encountered someone like that.
Everyone he usually dealt with was poorer than he was.
The Weasleys—needless to say—were a large family constantly juggling secondhand belongings.
Hermione, while considered wealthy in the Muggle world, wasn't exactly poor in the wizarding world either, but she couldn't be called rich.
Dumbledore likely had money, but he basically had no use for it.
His godfather, Sirius Black, was definitely rich—he even gave Harry a Firebolt. But Harry had no idea how much he actually owned.
Then there was the rest of the Order of the Phoenix.
Lupin? Broke.
Tonks? Just became an Auror—not much better off.
Kingsley? Not close enough to know.
Moody? Probably had money, but spent it all on sneakoscopes and still looked like he lived in a swamp.
So when Johnny Silverhand threw money around in public—and the amount he casually scattered equaled Mr. Weasley's yearly salary—it was clear just how rich he really was.
Especially when he talked about building a hospital like he was just buying groceries.
Originally, Harry thought that kind of hospital would at least take until next year to be ready. But the Weasley twins told him it had already been built and was in use.
Its primary service targets were the wizards of Knockturn Alley and the werewolf community.
Rumor had it there was something called "medical insurance." As long as you registered, you'd get discounts on hospital stays.
However, this insurance was only available in those two areas. The Weasley twins even considered moving to the werewolf community just to get in on it.
As soon as they voiced the idea, Mrs. Weasley scolded them thoroughly.
So the twins had to give it up—and deeply regretted not opening their shop in Knockturn Alley instead.
Yes, their shop.
They'd already chosen a location, and it was under construction.
Harry had originally planned to fund them. During the last Triwizard Tournament, he and Cedric had arrived at the cup at the same time.
The wizarding world had no surveillance or anything like that, so in the end, they both were declared joint winners.
It was a dramatic moment, and the prize money was split between them—Dumbledore's suggestion.
Even so, it was still a hefty sum.
The betting pool had made a fortune off the tournament—because almost no one had predicted the possibility of a dual first-place outcome.
A whole crowd of people were wailing in frustration, but there were no refunds.
Because technically, the betting page had included an option for multiple champions, with incredibly tempting odds.
It was just that no one had actually placed a bet on it. In the end, Johnny Silverhand got the windfall.
This outcome had also caught John by surprise.
Now that this new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor might have some sort of connection to Johnny Silverhand, Harry became alert.
He hadn't forgotten that Johnny Silverhand harbored hostility toward Dumbledore.
Over at the head table, Dumbledore continued speaking. "And now, we welcome a special guest—Madam Umbridge."
With that, the Great Hall responded with scattered, half-hearted applause. It was clear no one was really welcoming this "friend."
Umbridge's face darkened as she cast a venomous glare at Oz.
John wasn't surprised—Umbridge didn't exactly have a pleasant look.
Dumbledore seemed about to continue, but Umbridge deliberately interrupted him.
Good! John had to admit, he picked the right person—she was well disliked and gutsy.
Anyone else wouldn't dare cut off Dumbledore mid-speech.
Dumbledore tactfully stepped aside to let Umbridge speak, and she immediately launched into a long-winded monologue.
Malfoy nearly fell asleep listening to it, and the students wore blank, dazed expressions on their faces.
They were used to Dumbledore's short and impactful speeches—how could they endure such empty, hypocritical drivel?
"The Ministry of Magic has always believed that the education of young witches and wizards is of utmost importance…"
"Throughout Hogwarts' long history, every Headmaster entrusted with the responsibility of managing this historic institution has introduced innovations…"
"Because some changes have brought about positive results, while others—at the right time…"
"We must improve what needs improving, and discard that which ought to be forbidden."
At last, Umbridge finally finished speaking.
The students stared off into space, clapping only after a delayed reaction.
Dumbledore added a few remarks afterward, finally releasing them from the ordeal.
Malfoy couldn't wait to leave but was sharply called back by Daphne. "Are you planning to let me escort the new students by myself?"
He almost forgot he was a prefect. Malfoy gave a sheepish smile and turned—only to realize John had already vanished.
"I'm just glad that Umbridge isn't the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Ron said, exaggerating a sigh of relief. "She talks too much, and none of it made any sense."
Compared to that pink toad, Ron much preferred the beautiful Professor Hield.
Hermione, however, looked grim. The Ministry interfering in the school's management was not good news.
Originally, after hearing about the Ministry's plans from Harry, she had thought Dumbledore would be prepared.
But now it seemed Dumbledore hadn't stopped any of it.
Harry also looked confused. He could sense that it wasn't a good thing, but he didn't understand just how bad it really was.
Hermione and Ron had to take the first-years to their dormitories. After getting up, Harry spotted Neville and greeted him.
"Neville."
Ever since he learned that Neville's parents were also members of the Order of the Phoenix like his own, Harry had felt a friendlier bond toward him and smiled warmly.
Neville rubbed his head and responded to Harry, though his mind was more focused on the Constellation Society's upcoming meeting.
John had notified them—all current student members of the Constellation Society were to gather.
…
Constellation Society.
Despite the summer break, the place hadn't collected any dust. On the contrary, it remained spotless.
Runes floated in the air like tiny elves. The first to arrive was Neville.
Like John, he hadn't been delayed by any prefect duties.
"Neville, how are your parents doing?" John waved his hand, and a silver goblet appeared in front of Neville.
Neville looked grateful—thanks to John, his parents had regained their clarity.
"Everything's fine, but…"
Neville hesitated for a moment before continuing, "Someone invited them to rejoin an organization—the Order of the Phoenix."
"Did your parents agree?"
"They're still considering it," Neville said. "When they heard Voldemort isn't dead, they were very emotional... They want to contribute again, but their bodies haven't fully recovered."
"Interesting." John's lips curved into a smile. He looked at Neville and suddenly asked, "Neville, what if I told you I don't want your parents to join the Order of the Phoenix?"
"Huh?" Neville was stunned. In his mind, being able to fight Voldemort was a good thing.
Voldemort had caused Heinrich's death—something he remembered every second of the day.
"After tonight, I want you to think carefully," John said to Neville. "I hope you're ready."
Ready for what?
Neville was left full of questions.
After a while, John made a quick mental calculation—by now, the students should have all been escorted back.
The door to the Constellation Society opened, and Malfoy's impatient voice rang out.
"Go on in—John's not going to eat you."
It was the first time Crabbe and Goyle had ever stepped into the Constellation Society. They'd heard about it for ages, since they always hung around with Malfoy.
Pansy was there too, though she didn't understand why John had summoned her.
She didn't bear the Dark Mark, and the brutal scene involving John had left her a little scared.
The three of them entered, followed by Daphne and Malfoy. Cedric had also arrived.
As they stepped in, the atmosphere resembled an interrogation panel.
Crabbe and Goyle started to feel nervous.
"Sit down."
John's voice echoed as three chairs slid over and stopped in front of them.
Pansy sat first, prompting Crabbe and Goyle to finally take their seats.
"Now that everyone is here," John stood up, starlight falling across his face, lending him an air of mystery. His voice seemed to drift, now near, now far. "It's time we talked—about the Constellation Society… and about Voldemort and Dumbledore."
___________
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