Damian raised an eyebrow. "You're overstepping. Since when does the Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office get to decide the glory of the House of Black?"
Umbridge was momentarily stunned. She hadn't expected a student to dare talk back to her; it was a direct challenge to her authority!
She immediately flew into a rage, her voice dropping its fake sweetness to sound vicious. "See? Daring to talk back to a Ministry official! For someone like you, the most suitable place is Azkaban! Just like that other Black—Sirius Black—Azkaban is exactly where you belong!"
Damian continued to expertly bait her, feigning a hint of hesitation to draw out the quotes he needed. "There isn't a single law that states one should be imprisoned in Azkaban merely for being disrespectful."
Umbridge completely misread his acting, assuming he was finally intimidated. Azkaban still held terrifying deterrent power in the wizarding world, thanks to the soul-sucking Dementors that guarded it.
An oily smile stretched across her broad, flabby face as she shrieked, "There will be laws! For you lot who disrespect the Ministry, Minister Fudge will deal with you sooner or later!"
Damian's expression shifted into one of exaggerated outrage. "The Blacks are a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight! How dare you threaten such a thing!"
Umbridge pressed her advantage, desperately trying to provoke him into an irrational, emotional outburst so she could justify arresting him.
"Even the Sacred Twenty-Eight are under the absolute jurisdiction of the Ministry!" she crowed loudly. "Once you're in Azkaban, you'll see there are plenty of pure-bloods rotting inside! Just wait until you spend the rest of your life with the Dementors!"
"I haven't broken any laws," Damian stated flatly. "You don't have the right to put me in Azkaban."
Umbridge grew even more smug. Her high-pitched voice echoed down the street for all to hear. "You should know that laws aren't set in stone, boy. By talking back to a Ministry official, you're challenging the Ministry's authority! I'm telling you, you're finished!"
What Umbridge failed to mention was that even if Fudge did modify the laws later, they couldn't retroactively apply to Damian's current actions.
Damian had successfully collected every keyword and threat he wanted. Fully satisfied, he completely ignored Umbridge, nodded a polite goodbye to Tonks, and turned to leave.
Seeing him turn his back on her, Umbridge immediately blocked his path, grabbing his arm. "Stop! Did I say you could leave?"
"Let go, and don't block the way," Damian said coldly. He ripped his arm from her grasp and walked away without looking back.
Umbridge screamed in absolute frustration. "Damn you, Black! I'll have you locked up in Azkaban!"
With no legal grounds to detain him, and with Damian actively ignoring her, she could do nothing but vent her impotent rage in the middle of the street.
Once Damian had put some distance between them, he held out his left hand. A shimmer of magical energy condensed on his palm, forming a small sphere radiating a faint, colorful light.
Umbridge would never have guessed that Damian had recorded the entire altercation. He had used an ancient Mimbulus Mimbletonia Charm—a piece of wandless magic he could cast without ever drawing his wand.
Once he returned to Hogwarts, he would extract the memory from the Mimbulus Mimbletonia Charm, selectively "edit" the footage, and transfigure it into magical photographs to send anonymously to the press.
Because the Mimbulus Mimbletonia Charm captured the scene atmospherically from a fixed point in space rather than from his personal perspective, it looked exactly like a bystander's recording. Even if the Ministry suspected him, they would have zero hard evidence linking him to the leak.
Damian finally arrived at the agreed-upon location. The younger student he had hired was crouching by the roadside, looking incredibly bored.
"Your money is really hard to earn," the boy complained as Damian approached. "I've been waiting for ages!"
Damian handed him a few extra Sickles as compensation. "Sorry about that. I got delayed by a pest."
After securing his sweets and potion ingredients, he headed back to the Hog's Head Inn to reunite with Jerry and Geralt.
Hogwarts, The Great Hall
The next morning, while Damian was dining with his roommates, the morning post arrived. Hundreds of owls swooped down from the rafters, delivering newspapers and magazines to subscribed students.
Damian and his friends grabbed their copies.
The Daily Prophet — Shocking Secret! Minister Fudge Intends to Crack Down on Pure-Blood Families!
The accompanying moving photograph showed Umbridge pointing her wand aggressively at Damian's chest.
The article read: > The Prophet recently received an anonymous magical photograph, said to be accidentally recorded by a passing shopper in Hogsmeade. In the footage, Dolores Umbridge inadvertently revealed a chilling message: Minister Fudge believes pure-blood families disrespect the Ministry and is actively planning to modify laws to target them. > We must note that Madam Umbridge, Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office, is Fudge's closest confidante. Her words might be a deliberate trial balloon released by the Minister...
The Quibbler — Ministry Official Umbridge Targets Hogwarts Student Unprovoked! What is the Ministry Planning?
The Ministry of Magic cannot be allowed to abuse its power. Fudge's continued indulgence of Umbridge's misdeeds will inevitably backfire.
The photo in The Quibbler showed Umbridge repeatedly casting Prior Incantato at Damian's wand. However, the clever angle completely obscured the wand itself, making it look as though she was repeatedly firing hexes directly at an unarmed student.
Witch Weekly — Fudge Finally Reveals His Ambition! Does He Aim to Eliminate Pure-Blood Families?
Does Fudge want to return to Dumbledore's embrace? Will the Minister, who constantly wavers between factions, meet a bitter end?
Witch Weekly was a gossip publication that relied on shocking gimmicks to attract readers. Its front page had nothing to do with Damian, instead featuring a highly unflattering picture of Fudge.
The Evening Prophet — Minister Fudge States No Intention of Targeting Pure-Bloods; Claims Circulating Images are Forgeries!
The photo featured a sweating Cornelius Fudge reading a hasty press release.
Recently, the press received an anonymous letter claiming the Minister intends to suppress pure-blood families. Minister Fudge has publicly declared this to be false information and a blatant attempt to tarnish the Ministry's image. He stated that such behavior will be strictly investigated...
Jerry looked up, his eyes wide. "Damian! What happened to you yesterday is all over the papers!"
Damian had casually mentioned the encounter to them yesterday, but he had conveniently left out the part where he secretly recorded and leaked the entire thing.
Geralt was holding a copy of a lesser-known tabloid, reading aloud with a smirk. "Perhaps only a pillow-mate can understand Fudge's true thoughts. If one digs deep into the relationship between Umbridge and Fudge, it becomes clear they are more than just superior and subordinate—we have captured many photos of them entering private venues together."
Jerry leaned over to look at the photo, which showed Umbridge and Fudge looking suspiciously cozy in a private cafe. "They couldn't really be secret lovers, could they?"
"They'd actually be quite a match," Geralt snorted.
"Indeed," Damian agreed, taking a calm sip of his black tea.
While this kind of trashy, speculative news wouldn't cause any real political damage to Fudge, it was definitely enough to make him vent his embarrassment and fury on Umbridge. Her career prospects were about to take a massive nosedive.
The Minister for Magic's Office
Umbridge stood trembling in the center of the plush office. She had been urgently summoned by Fudge first thing in the morning.
She had originally thought the Minister had a special task for her, but she was met with a barrage of screaming the moment she walked through the door.
Fudge's face was flushed a dangerous shade of magenta. He aggressively slammed a crumpled copy of The Daily Prophet directly into Umbridge's chest. "Look at what you've done!"
Confused, Umbridge grabbed the paper and read the headline. She immediately shrieked in shock and anger. "This is fake! I didn't say that!"
"Can't you see the crux of the problem?!" Fudge roared, spit flying from his lips. "How could you let someone record you while you were on duty?! Are you a complete idiot?!"
Whether the recording was fully accurate or selectively edited was no longer the point. The public would believe it. Fudge was absolutely livid that his most trusted subordinate had been so spectacularly sloppy, effectively handing their political enemies a loaded weapon.
"It must be that Black boy!" Umbridge stammered in absolute terror. "He must have hired someone to record it! He deliberately approached me yesterday!"
Fudge glared at her, his eyes bulging. "Do you have proof?"
Umbridge frantically wiped the cold sweat from her forehead, lowering her head so she wouldn't have to meet Fudge's furious gaze. "I... I will find proof, Minister."
"Get out," Fudge said coldly, his voice dripping with disgust. "And don't bother coming back until you do."
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