Chapter 275: The Wizards Who Covered Their Ears and Stole the Bell
"...because some changes have shown good results, while others are still in progress..."
At the staff table, Umbridge continued her long-winded speech. Phineas tried to distract himself by chatting with Astoria to keep his brain from melting.
Fortunately, her speech didn't last much longer.
"Let us stride boldly into a new era of enlightenment, efficiency, and order—preserving what is worthy, improving what must be improved, and abolishing what must be forbidden."
She finally sat down. Dumbledore was the first to applaud. A few seconds later, the students realised the speech had ended and followed with a round of applause. Some even had tears in their eyes—not from inspiration, but sheer relief that it was over.
"Thank you very much, Madam Umbridge. Your speech was... enlightening," Dumbledore said, standing and bowing slightly to her.
"Now, as I mentioned earlier, Quidditch tryouts will begin on..."
Phineas wasn't the only one who had understood the subtext of Umbridge's words. Aside from the pure-bloods from families like the Malfoys and Averys who were educated from childhood in the ways of the Ministry, there was another who caught the message.
Hermione, seated at the Ravenclaw table, turned to speak to Harry, Ron, and Neville sitting behind her at the Gryffindor table.
"This means the Ministry is starting to interfere with Hogwarts," she explained quietly.
While she spoke, Dumbledore wrapped up his announcements. Chairs scraped and clattered as students rose to leave the Great Hall.
"First years, this way!" the prefects called, leading the nervous newcomers toward their respective House dormitories. The new students crept along the aisles beside the long tables, eyes downcast, trying not to attract attention.
Phineas leaned toward Astoria and said softly, "You should head back with the others. I have something to deal with."
Astoria nodded and followed the Slytherin prefect out of the hall.
Phineas remained seated, his brows furrowed as he watched the hall slowly empty of students and professors alike.
Why hadn't Dumbledore announced the truth about the Dark Lord as they had agreed? It wasn't like him to cave to Ministry pressure. Dumbledore never cared what the Ministry thought.
So what was his reason?
Phineas decided to wait. He was confident that if something had changed, Dumbledore would call him. As the heir of the Black family and someone strong enough to take part in the coming war, Phineas had earned the right to be involved in these discussions. He was Dumbledore's partner, not subordinate.
Sure enough, not long after, Fawkes appeared in a burst of fire.
Recognising the signal, Phineas reached out and grasped the phoenix's claw. In a flash of flame, he was transported to the Headmaster's office.
"Did something happen, Professor? I thought we agreed you'd make the announcement."
Phineas didn't hide his confusion.
Dumbledore sighed and turned to retrieve a stack of letters from his desk, handing them to Phineas. "There were... unexpected reactions. Take a look."
Phineas flipped one open, his brow furrowing deeper as he read. Dumbledore explained,
"Before term began, I leaked news of the Dark Lord's return to certain channels, hoping to prepare people in advance. These are the responses."
Phineas scanned through a few of the letters and scoffed, "Are they serious? Do they think covering their ears will make the threat disappear?"
Most of the letters were from parents requesting to withdraw their children from Hogwarts. One even accused Dumbledore of senility, implying that he was no longer fit to lead the school.
Phineas was stunned. The signs of the Dark Lord's return were obvious to anyone paying attention. Yet, now that Dumbledore dared to speak the truth, he was dismissed as an old fool.
Not all the letters were critical, though. Some showed unwavering support.
The most striking example came from Neville's grandmother. This formidable witch, whose son and daughter-in-law had been driven to madness by the Dark Lord and were now confined to St. Mungo's Hospital, wrote to Dumbledore with unwavering conviction. She stated that if necessary, her grandson, Neville Longbottom, would also fight against the Dark Lord just as his parents had—even if it meant sacrificing his life. She believed firmly that they were all heroes, and that even if the cost of heroism was high, it was a price she was willing to see paid. In her view, the threat of the Dark Lord was a matter for the entire wizarding world. So long as he lived, countless families would be torn apart, and many children would lose their loved ones. If the Longbottom family's sacrifice could aid the greater fight against him, then it would all be worthwhile.
Phineas closed the final letter and handed the stack back with a heavy sigh. "It's worse than I thought."
Dumbledore nodded grimly. "We wanted to prepare everyone. But it seems no one wants to hear the truth."
There was a note of weary irony in his voice—as though the greatest white wizard in the world had, for a moment, considered giving up.
But Phineas knew better. Dumbledore hadn't given up during the last war, even when the Ministry itself turned a blind eye to the Dark Lord's rise. He had formed the Order of the Phoenix and fought on. He would again.
And now, Phineas understood just how much pressure the old wizard must bear. For decades, Dumbledore had stood as the world's protector. Yet now, in peace, many saw his power as a threat.
"When the dragon is slain, the slayer becomes the next beast to be feared," Phineas murmured. "It's always been that way."
Perhaps Dumbledore had been living that paradox for a long time.
"It's clear now—we can't make this public," Phineas concluded. "They won't believe it until it's staring them in the face. And if we force it, it'll backfire."
He remembered what happened in the original timeline. When the Dark Lord returned during Harry's fourth year, Dumbledore had made it public—only to be discredited, stripped of titles, and cast out by those who feared the truth.
If things were the same now, then there was no point in repeating that mistake.
"We just need to prepare those who believe in us. Get them ready for what's coming. We'll all have to be ready to make sacrifices."
Dumbledore agreed with this. It had always been his stance in the fight against the Dark Lord: if a better future could be secured, then even great sacrifices were worth making.
"Very well, Phineas. I believe you understand my concerns now. Tonight is not the right moment to make this public—but I will still announce it."
Phineas frowned.
"Professor, if you already know that announcing this won't change anything, why take the risk? Why face the backlash and force it into the open? As long as you keep this to yourself, the Ministry has no grounds to act against you, and the rest of the wizarding world won't have a reason to turn on you."
"Professor, you're too powerful, and you're not part of the council of elders. They'd be glad to see you fall—or worse. Most wizards don't like the idea of a legendary wizard standing above them, completely independent. So if you go public with this, they'll come for you."
Phineas let out a sigh.
"I used to think like you—that we should only announce this if people were ready to believe it. Even if not everyone, at least half. Only then would revealing the truth give us the strength we need to resist him."
Dumbledore shook his head.
"I won't stay silent just because others refuse to listen. If I don't speak up simply because they don't want to hear it—then who will?"
Phineas sighed again and fell silent. Dumbledore's stance was clear. It seemed he'd already made up his mind.
"So, Professor... when do you plan to make the announcement?"
Dumbledore turned to the window, gazing out at the moonlit grounds. "After I speak with Fudge. Perhaps he'll be willing to listen... and help prepare for what's to come."
Phineas regarded him solemnly. Even now, Dumbledore hoped others might choose the right path. That was why he remained the greatest wizard of the age.
Knowing he would not change Dumbledore's mind, Phineas nodded, bid him goodnight, and left the office.
When he returned to the Slytherin common room, the new year's shadow prefect had already been chosen. It wasn't Astoria, but Harper Avery of the Avery family.
Though Astoria had bested some of the others, years under the burden of the blood curse had left her weakened. Against Harper, she couldn't hold out.
Seeing the disappointment on her face, Phineas walked over gently.
"You can live in my dormitory," he offered quietly.
Astoria looked up at him, then shook her head with firm resolve.
"No. If I want a single dormitory, I'll earn it myself."
Phineas smiled and nodded, stepping into the center of the common room, ready to begin his duties as the shadow prefect of their year.
Shadow prefect was a coveted position—one that every ambitious Slytherin aspired to. Although Phineas had never officially performed all the duties associated with the title, the role was still his. Nevertheless, like every year, he was required to go through the motions of the selection process at the start of term, giving his classmates the chance to challenge him for the position.
But as always, no one did. The outcome never changed, and this year was no different.