A few days had passed since the woman's awakening and her urgent admission to the infirmary. The head nurse of the school had postponed her own vacation to closely monitor the new patient. Of course, she had called in a few colleagues from St. Mungo’s for their opinions on the woman’s condition, but after conducting their examinations, they returned to their work, leaving Poppy Pomfrey alone at the patient’s bedside.
The worried nurse had declined all visitors during these days, keeping the few who knew about the situation informed of the woman's health. She hinted that things would likely improve with less disruption from impromptu questions and external agitation.
Unfortunately for the kind nurse, the headmaster was a stubborn man. Albus Dumbledore visited the infirmary several times a day, seeking updates on the patient's recovery. This day was no exception, as Dumbledore knocked on the infirmary door once more, hoping he wouldn’t be turned away again.
Pomfrey opened the door, her irritation barely hidden, and began what she hoped would be a brief conversation.
"Albus. I never thought I’d have to repeat myself so many times, especially not to a grown man like you."
"Well, it seems that a certain level of concern has returned me to my youth," Dumbledore replied with a gentle smile. "Forgive me, Poppy. I simply wish to know more. Myself and others, of course, are eagerly awaiting more detailed news than ‘she’ll be better soon.’"
"Things are progressing, Albus. I’m sorry I can’t grant your request to speak with her yet, but it’s for her recovery that I—"
She didn’t have time to finish her explanation, as she was interrupted by a faint, quiet voice from within the room.
"What are you doing? By Merlin’s beard, get back to bed immediately!" Pomfrey exclaimed, letting go of the door and rushing into the room.
Perhaps it wasn’t very honorable of Dumbledore to take advantage of this distraction to enter, but he thought that ensuring the situation himself was far more comforting than waiting indefinitely for good news.
He stepped inside and noticed that the patient had gotten out of bed and was trying to make her way toward the door, but Pomfrey intercepted her and guided her back to her bed.
“Pomfrey… I think I’m quite capable,” the young woman said, seeming breathless but pressing on with her plea, “capable enough to make my own decisions… I just… I just need to speak to…”
She noticed the headmaster standing nearby and gently sat back on her bed, pushed down by the nurse.
“I was certain I heard you, Dumbledore…”
He observed her for a moment, taking in her condition for the first time since she was rushed to the infirmary. A certain veil of sadness crossed his gaze. His memories, sometimes distorted by age, had taught him to be cautious about how he remembered things—or people… But he was sure that this young woman in front of him was very different from the one he had left… many years ago…
But instead of succumbing to sorrow and comparing what was no longer there, he chose to focus on the present and the future. And if his loyal nurse had assured him that things would improve, he had to believe it and let time heal the wounds… or at least, here… a battered body.
“Hello, Alice…” he said with a smile.
“Hello, Albus…” she replied, returning a small smile.
---
The summer holidays of that year were particularly heavy for many wizards. Young people like Harry Potter spent their vacations greatly troubled by the return of Voldemort. He was also mourning the loss of his friend Cedric Diggory, who had fallen at the hands of the ever-stronger Voldemort. Mourning is never an easy phase in life, especially when accompanied by the fear that comes with the return of such a malevolent being. Harry suffered from the tension that had accompanied his life for the past few years, and unfortunately for him, his holidays had brought him even more troubles.
Despite all this, young Harry Potter did not let himself be overwhelmed, and this new year alongside his closest friends would help him move forward. Deep down, he hoped this year would be calmer, without the cruel twists of fate. As he observed the long table where the professors sat, one face stood out to him, and he wasn’t particularly pleased to see it, especially not in this context.
Indeed, on this first day of September 1995, the students of Hogwarts were returning after an incredibly long holiday. As usual, a grand feast and beautiful festivities heralded the start of the school year. Without deviating from tradition, Albus Dumbledore began his customary welcoming speech. The speech was filled with kindness, advice, and warnings. Naturally, the attentive ears were quick to listen and decipher more personal words meant to be encouraging
Dumbledore's speech seemed longer than usual, and when he finished the formalities, Harry and Ron, like many other students, had slumped a bit in their seats. However, they quickly straightened up as the wave of applause resonated through the Great Hall. The headmaster patiently waited for the applause to die down before he resumed speaking, this time to share some updates with the students.
“This year marks a significant change in the teaching staff, and it would be unreasonable not to introduce our old and new professors who are taking up their posts today.” He paused for effect. “First, we are delighted to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will teach Care of Magical Creatures during the temporary absence of Professor Hagrid…”
The professor, dressed entirely in brown, gave a modest nod and welcomed the applause of the small heads around her.
“Well, well…” Dumbledore continued. “This year, we welcome Professor Dolores Umbridge to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. A very important subject that, I remind you…”
“*Ahem*...”
Surprised by an interruption he never imagined he would receive, Dumbledore fell silent and allowed Dolores Umbridge to take the floor, her eagerness palpable. Those closest to the old professor could sense a hint of destabilization in him.
The woman, who went by Dolores Umbridge, stood up, inviting everyone to observe her and fully discover this new arrival. Dressed from head to toe in pink, she was not very tall and didn’t appear particularly young. Although she wore a broad smile, it lacked any warmth or sincerity.
Harry could confirm his suspicions; she was indeed the woman who had judged him during his unwelcome hearing at the Ministry of Magic. He felt no empathy for her, and having her intrude upon the comforting space of Hogwarts was utterly displeasing in his eyes.
If he had gotten a taste of what this woman represented during his trial, what she proclaimed in her speech was no better. It was meant to be engaging but was, in reality, nothing more than propaganda and misplaced tradition. When she finished, silence fell over the hall. While most students were accustomed to long, dull speeches, they were all taken aback by the heaviness of hers. It was Dumbledore himself who initiated the applause, followed by the professors and finally by the students, at least some of them.
“Thank you, Professor Umbridge, for this…” he searched for the right words, “for this fascinating speech! I previously mentioned that the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts is of paramount importance in a world where evil lurks when you least expect it… It is a rich art that teaches us much about our adversaries but also about ourselves… Please, be attentive!” He chuckled, then gathered himself. “I made the decision during this vacation to reintroduce a privilege that I personally enjoyed during my own studies here long ago… To facilitate this, I have called upon Miss Alice McGarden, who will assist you when you require more personalized instruction! We wish her good luck with all the work you will give her!”
The previously tense atmosphere relaxed; it seemed the humorous note at the end of the headmaster’s presentation had the desired effect. The students applauded, and the young woman they would now call Professor McGarden stood up. She was quite different from her colleague, or at least that’s what the young wizards thought. Alice McGarden was a tall woman, dressed in a much more ordinary way than her colleague. Her hair, tied in a thick braid, rested on her shoulder. She wasn’t very thick, and some could discern a certain paleness and dark circles slightly hidden under her eyes.
Harry Potter, who had been chatting with his friends about Dolores Umbridge's arrival at their school, had not immediately paid attention to this new professor. But when she stood up, he had more than just the impression that he had seen her before. But when was it?
“At the Ministry!” he exclaimed.
“Yes, you’ve already told us, Harry… Umbridge, the Ministry, blah blah…” Ron replied, eager for the feast to begin.
“Not the pink toad! The other one!” Harry started, quickly backtracking before Hermione could scold him for insulting a professor. “I saw her—well, caught a glimpse—when I was with your dad, Ron.”
“Do you think she’s in cahoots with the Minister of Magic, Harry?” Hermione asked, now intrigued by the information.
“Not sure, but… now that you mention it…” Harry replied, his brow furrowing as he considered the implications.
The banquet continued, filled with the pleasant sounds of plates clattering and lively conversations about summer holidays. Harry's gaze shifted back to the two new arrivals, both of whom seemed to carry an air of authority and secrecy. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this year wouldn’t be as calm as he’d hoped.