"…Some old habits will be preserved, and that's only natural. But others, outdated and obsolete, must be cast aside. Let us keep moving forward…"
As Hodge Blackthorn ascended the steps, Umbridge faltered for a moment. She recovered quickly, her voice smooth and syrupy. "I didn't invite anyone to come up here."
"This isn't a class," Hodge replied, now standing on the gilded stage, facing her directly. "You should've saved your speech for the first lesson. That way, no one bold enough—like me—would dare challenge you. At least then, you could threaten us with point deductions or detention."
Umbridge's eyes narrowed dangerously, her wide mouth stretching into a predatory grin, like a toad poised to strike.
"So—" she drawled, "you have a differing opinion? After the Ministry has made its final judgment?"
Behind her, Professor Flitwick frantically waved at Hodge, urging him not to provoke a conflict with the Ministry. Snape, meanwhile, remained silent, his cautious gaze appraising Hodge with a measured intensity.
"Regarding the unfair treatment I've received," Hodge said evenly, unhurried, "I don't want to waste everyone's time with pointless arguments. Perhaps you've all forgotten why we're here—the Dueling Club, remember?" He glanced around the room, meeting the rapt gazes of the other students. "Now's the time for a duel."
For a fleeting moment, Umbridge's expression froze, but she quickly regained her composure.
"If you hadn't interrupted me," she said, "I was just about to get to that part. In fact, during my review of the school's curriculum, I found that many subjects—particularly Defense Against the Dark Arts—have not adhered to the Ministry-approved standards. Frequent changes in professors, instructors of questionable competence… But rest assured, these issues will be resolved. You will all receive a carefully structured, strictly Ministry-compliant Defense Against the Dark Arts course." She directed her words to the crowd below.
"Couldn't agree more," Hodge chimed in.
"The only problem is, we just got rid of a professor who was all talk. What if the next one's even worse? At least Professor Lockhart knew a bit of stagecraft, putting on little defensive skits…" His voice was clear, carrying to every corner of the hall. "Are we headed for pure theory now? Wands gathering dust on the shelf? Perhaps the person about to take the teaching post should give us a demonstration. Or, since you mentioned the school's mismanagement, maybe—besides the Ministry's opinion—it'd be wise to consider the students' views as well."
The students stared, dumbstruck, but a spark of eager anticipation ignited in their eyes.
"Well said!" the Weasley twins shouted in unison.
"That's your opinion, Mr. Blackthorn," Umbridge said coldly, ignoring the twins. She forgot to lower her voice. "If you insist on defying the Ministry—"
She cut herself off as Hodge turned away from her, addressing the students in the hall. The crowd fell silent, their eyes fixed on him, unblinking. Hodge knew they were waiting for him to speak. It was a bit earlier than he'd planned—far earlier, in fact—but this was a rare opportunity. It wasn't every day you could gather nearly every student in one place to hear you out.
"What do you think?" he asked softly. "Think about Quirrell. Think about Lockhart. Think about the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes you've had these past two years. Now the Ministry's shoving another person at us—a bureaucrat, a former convict… Even if some of you don't care about that, you should at least care about your future. At the very least, ensure the person standing on that stage, claiming to be a teacher, can pick up a wand and guide a second-year student, not just rely on being older."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.
The murmurs grew louder as the students realized what Hodge was doing—publicly challenging a teacher, something unheard of. The hall erupted in excited chatter, reactions varying wildly. Hodge caught Percy shaking his head in disapproval, opening his mouth to speak, only to be elbowed sharply by the twins. Fred and George flanked him, each draping an arm around Percy, warning him to keep quiet. Neville's eyes widened in shock, a look he hadn't worn since facing a Voldemort-possessed Quirrell. Some students—led by Terry, Michael, and Anthony—began clapping, and more joined in. Gradually, the hall quieted, hundreds of students silently watching Hodge and Umbridge.
For the first time, Umbridge showed a flicker of panic.
She wasn't particularly afraid of dueling Hodge—she'd never seen him fight, only heard rumors, and her impression of him was stuck on last Christmas's trial, where she'd held the upper hand. But she seemed to confuse the Ministry's authority with her own. Her greater concern now was losing control of the situation.
She turned to Flitwick and Snape, but neither showed any sign of anger.
"Professor Umbridge," Flitwick said with a cheerful smile, "it's only natural for students to have doubts. I recall when I first started teaching at Hogwarts, I faced plenty of skepticism. The headmaster at the time told me it's something every professor must confront—earning the students' trust. And that can only be done by you. I'm sure you'll handle it splendidly."
Umbridge's frustration was palpable as she glared at the diminutive Charms professor, but Flitwick remained unfazed. She turned to Snape, who curled his thin lips into a mocking smirk. "I never allow students to question me in class," he said lightly. "So, I suggest you give a dazzling demonstration and then put Blackthorn in detention. Two weeks seems reasonable."
Umbridge's chest heaved with indignation.
She whipped around, realizing not a single student in the hall was on her side. She was backed into a corner. Her mind raced, weighing her options, before she drew her wand.
"Very well, if you insist—" she said in a stern tone.
"If you don't mind," Flitwick interjected eagerly, "I'll act as referee." He and Snape stepped to the edge of the stage. "First, per dueling rules, both parties bow to each other—"
Hodge and Umbridge gave slight bows, Hodge raising his wand to his chest.
After a few awkward seconds, Flitwick said to Umbridge, somewhat embarrassed, "Per the rules, you need to adopt the proper dueling stance to account for differences in casting habits…"
A low ripple of laughter spread through the crowd. Umbridge hissed through clenched teeth, "What stance?"
"The one Hodge is using," Flitwick said with some difficulty. Umbridge stiffly raised her wand. "Excellent. No dangerous spells, and no attacking once an opponent is down—" Flitwick called out loudly, though it was unclear which of them he was addressing. "One—two—three—begin!"
"Stupefy!" Umbridge shouted immediately.
A red jet of light shot from her short wand, streaking through the air. The spell's glow illuminated her vicious expression—she clearly hoped to end this with one decisive strike. But her hopes were dashed. Hodge didn't move an inch, merely tilting his cheek slightly as the spell sailed past him.
A brief, deathly silence followed, then the students' eyes blazed with excitement and fervor.
————
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