A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Realizing he'd get nothing useful from William, Fudge turned back toward the Ministry officials.

"Go investigate! We can't let that dark-robed wizard escape!" he shouted. "Get moving! All of you, stop just standing there!"

"Minister, Director Scrimgeour already took the Aurors in pursuit," someone informed him.

"Oh, Rufus is on it?" Fudge breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, he won't let them get away."

Fudge himself had once been Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, with a long history in frontline work, which had paved the way for his rise as Minister. 

He knew his people's strengths, particularly Scrimgeour's. Even if they differed in politics, Rufus was adept in handling dark wizards—an experienced and capable hand.

"Minister, we found some Muggles here who saw more than they should. Shall we erase their memories?" A syrupy voice chimed in from behind Fudge as Dolores Umbridge sidled up, her hips swaying with calculated grace.

Fresh from being promised a transfer out of the Auror Office by Fudge, she wasn't missing this opportunity to flaunt her influence over him, putting on airs to make herself feel indispensable.

"What? Erase our memories?" Roy exclaimed, his fists clenched in fury. "No! We deserve an explanation! My son almost died today!"

Iris rolled up his sleeves in anger, too. "You can't treat us this way! My daughter's a witch, and we demand an apology and accountability!"

Nearby, Hermione and Annie were busy tending to William's injuries, using potions to clean the wounds on his hands. Hearing this, they were equally furious.

"You can't do this to us!"

"Muggles must have their memories erased," Umbridge said with a disdainful sneer. "If you don't want a stay in Azkaban, you'll comply."

She stepped forward, her face twisted in a phony smile. "One Obliviate, and it'll all be forgotten. It's as simple as that, how about it, hmm?"

Everyone's eyes were now on Umbridge, which filled her with pleasure. Lately, her career hadn't been as smooth, and she relished being the center of attention again.

But several Aurors left on the scene rolled their eyes, muttering about how foolish she was. 

It was obvious that the young wizard was in no mood for anyone's interference, especially after a battle with a Death Eater. Why would she deliberately provoke him?

William, in fact, was far beyond a bad mood. 

Though Flamel's potion had dulled his pain, exhaustion weighed him down. He struggled to stay alert as he endured the Ministry's questioning, his patience wearing thin.

Just earlier today, he'd spoken to Bertha Jorkins, who was constantly forgetful—likely due to having her memory tampered with. 

And now, here was Umbridge, a shameless sycophant, proposing to alter his family's memories without any care in the world.

Narrowing his eyes, William's voice turned ice-cold. "I'll adjust my family's memories. You don't need to interfere."

"Oh, dear," Umbridge cooed, flashing him a sickly-sweet smile. "Obliviate is a complex spell. Has that little Merlin Medal made you arrogant? I think you're getting ahead of yourself. We all know you only got lucky capturing that Death Eater—a fluke, it's nothing more than that. You're just a child."

She smirked, savoring the attention. "And besides, underage wizards aren't permitted to perform magic outside school. As an Auror, I'm warning you to back off and let me handle this."

Before she could finish, William acted.

Umbridge was blasted backward, a red flash hitting her square in the chest, sending her flying into the rock wall behind her.

Fudge gasped, spinning around to see Umbridge pinned against the wall, a massive stone hand gripping her throat, her feet dangling inches from the ground.

The Aurors who had accompanied Fudge all raised their wands, aiming at William.

Slowly, William rose to his feet, his wand in his right hand, with Fawkes perched regally on his shoulder. 

Though he was pale and visibly weakened, the swift takedown of Umbridge and the mastery of Transfiguration on display left no doubt of his skill.

Most unsettling was his complete composure in the face of half a dozen wands aimed his way—his calm was enough to send shivers down anyones spine.

In the back, Liana and Emily covered their mouths to stifle shocked gasps. The night had already stretched them to the limit.

Roy and Iris, too, inhaled sharply. Both had only intended to make some noise to defend their rights; they hadn't really planned on defying the Ministry.

But Iris, in particular, looked both exhilarated and determined, watching his daughter's suitor confront the Ministry with such skill and power. He could hardly keep his admiration in check.

Fudge's gaze, too, remained fixed on William, taking the boy far more seriously now. 

Before, he too had thought William's capture of Tywin was just a lucky fluke, with some assistance from the school's professors. The traces left on the battlefield had seemed too severe for a young wizard's doing.

Now it appeared that they were dealing with another Dumbledore-like talent.

Meanwhile, Nicolas Flamel stood quietly in the corner, amused rather than shocked by the scene before him. As his gaze settled on William, he observed the two girls standing behind him.

Annie and Hermione were both staring at William, frozen in surprise after seeing him take down Umbridge. 

Annie looked on in pure admiration, thrilled at how her brother had resisted dragon fire, fought off the dark wizard, and subdued the "wicked old witch"—her brother was truly unstoppable!

Hermione's reaction, though, was different.

Watching William's wounded wrist bleed again, she felt her heart twist in worry. Her usually lively eyes glistened with tears, and she gripped her vinewood wand so tightly her knuckles turned white, ready to rush to his side.

"Lower your wands!" Scrimgeour's voice echoed as he entered.

He ordered sternly, "This young man just drove off a dark wizard and protected Muggles. What are you all doing? Do you want to lose your jobs that badly?!"

Obeying Scrimgeour's command, all the Aurors lowered their wands.

"Could you release her, son?" Scrimgeour gave Umbridge a distasteful glance before looking back at William.

William nodded, feeling Fawkes' power drain away. With a flick of his wand, he gently lowered Umbridge's unconscious body to the ground.

Scrimgeour looked at him, both impressed and cautious. This boy was as ruthless to his enemies as he was to himself.

Despite making the takedown look effortless, he was clearly still recovering from the earlier fight with the dark wizard. His wounds had barely begun to heal, yet they were bleeding anew.

The boy was a force to be reckoned with.

join my patreon for 80+ advanced chapters: patreon.com/HyppoTL