For the first few days of the school year, a peculiar atmosphere hung over the castle.
The most obvious sign was the influx of owls at breakfast. Every morning, a flood of letters arrived, far more than usual. Typically, this time of year was filled with chatter and excitement as students shared holiday stories and laughed over their meals. But now, the Great Hall was eerily subdued.
Students were absorbed in reading and responding to letters, their attention fixed on parchment rather than conversation. The lively chatter had been replaced with the sound of quills scratching, and if an outsider were to observe, they might assume everyone was cramming for an important exam.
This strange shift in mood had persisted since the very first day of school.
"My mom's asking about school again," Justin Finch-Fletchley muttered at breakfast, tossing a half-read letter aside. "That's the fifth letter in just a few days. Dad's written, too. It's like they think there's a madman loose in the castle, ready to snap at any moment."
"Isn't that exactly the case?" Zacharias Smith said from across the table. He finished scribbling a reply and handed it to the owl perched nearby.
"That old fool Dumbledore is just making a spectacle out of Harry Potter to grab attention," Zacharias continued. "A headmaster as famous as him, pandering to frauds. No wonder parents are worried."
"I don't think Professor Dumbledore would do something like that," Ernie Macmillan said quietly.
He agreed with Justin and trusted Dumbledore, but he refrained from arguing with Zacharias directly. "My family reads The Daily Prophet, and they've suggested I not come back to Hogwarts. But, of course, I still came. I don't want to give up on magic."
"Well," Zacharias replied, "I have to write home every day to assure my family I'm safe here. It's their condition for letting me stay."
"That sounds exhausting," Ernie muttered.
Mikel, sitting nearby, couldn't resist cutting in. "If you're so worried, why not just stay home? You'd save yourself the trouble of writing a letter every day."
"I don't mind the parchment," Zacharias said flatly, "and why should I give up my education because of two liars? They're the ones who should leave."
"Dumbledore is not a liar," Ryan retorted firmly. "He's the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen. My family believes in him completely."
"Same here," Mikel chimed in.
Zacharias shrugged indifferently. "The Daily Prophet has made it clear. If you lot want to be stubborn, that's your choice."
"You're the one being stubborn," Mikel shot back. "Believing the Daily Prophet over Professor Dumbledore is ridiculous. That paper's rotten for even questioning him."
Zacharias' jaw tightened. "If Dumbledore wants my belief, he can provide solid proof that You-Know-Who is back. Until then, I'll trust The Daily Prophet over baseless claims."
Pushing his plate aside, he added, "Oh, by the way, the Dumbledore you're defending? He's been expelled from both the Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards for losing his marbles."
With that, Zacharias stood and left the Great Hall.
The conversation left an awkward silence at the Hufflepuff table as everyone exchanged uncertain glances.
"It's normal for some people not to believe, right?" Justin said, trying to break the tension.
"Ha, who cares if he believes it or not," Susan Bones said, shrugging. "Whoever decided to expel Professor Dumbledore is going to regret it."
"You're absolutely right," Justin agreed, and the mood at the table began to recover. Soon, the conversation grew lively again.
Not far away, Cedric had been listening to the exchange. Frowning, he turned to Kyle. "Zacharias must be talking nonsense. The Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards couldn't possibly expel Professor Dumbledore. That's impossible."
"Actually… it's true," Kyle said, lowering the Daily Prophet he had been reading.
The front page bore a glaring headline confirming that Dumbledore had indeed been removed from both positions. The article dripped with mockery, painting him as a senile old man who had finally faced the consequences of his absurd claims.
Though many Hogwarts students still trusted Dumbledore unconditionally, it was clear that the larger wizarding world—like Fudge—refused to believe in Voldemort's return.
When Kyle attended the meeting at the Hog's Head during the holidays, he noticed that the turnout wasn't particularly high—only about thirty people. Yet those numbers had been enough to sway decisions, tipping the balance in Dumbledore's expulsion.
The International Confederation of Wizards had expelled Dumbledore, widely regarded as the most powerful wizard of the age. Kyle couldn't help but marvel at the sheer audacity of what seemed like magical manipulation.
However, Dumbledore didn't appear surprised by the outcome. At the end of the Start-of-Term Feast, his closing words carried a poignant message:
"You-Know-Who is very skilled at sowing discord and hostility. We must counter this with unyielding friendship and trust…"
Kyle reflected on those words. Perhaps it was Voldemort's intention to isolate Dumbledore from the larger wizarding community, to weaken him by undermining his credibility. A divided wizarding world would only serve Voldemort's interests, and as long as he remained in the shadows, such misunderstandings would persist.
Yet another possibility occurred to Kyle—one far more calculated. What if Dumbledore's expulsion had been orchestrated deliberately?
The newspaper had reported that the Wizengamot vote was 19 to 21, passing the motion to expel Dumbledore by a razor-thin margin of two votes. But Kyle knew there were fifty full members of the Wizengamot with voting rights. Why had only forty participated?
Did the remaining ten abstain? Or had they been absent altogether?
A similar scenario had unfolded with the International Confederation of Wizards. Once again, there were fewer votes cast, and the decision had passed by the same narrow margin.
If this had been part of a larger strategy, Kyle could only speculate about Dumbledore's motives. Was he trying to lull Voldemort into a false sense of security? Or did he have an entirely different plan in mind?
Kyle shook his head, deciding not to dwell on it further. Instead, he picked up a letter lying next to him—the only piece of good news he had received that day.
It was from the Wizengamot, confirming the conclusion of the hearing regarding Lucius Malfoy, Igor Karkaroff, Walden Macnair, and Dolores Umbridge.
The letter outlined the details: Lucius and the others had voluntarily dropped the charges they had filed against Kyle.
Things had moved far more quickly than Kyle had anticipated. The investigation into Barty Crouch Jr. had dragged on for over half a year, yet this case had been resolved in mere days.
As for the outcome, the letter stated that Lucius, Karkaroff, and Macnair would publish public apologies in the newspaper and pay a hefty fine.
Umbridge, however, had faced no repercussions. She had simply claimed she had been misled and was let off with no punishment.
Kyle couldn't shake the feeling that this leniency reeked of appeasement.
His eyes landed on a familiar name in the letter: Cornelius Fudge. The Minister of Magic's involvement likely explained everything.
"I really don't know how this will end," Cedric said with a sigh. "What if the Hogwarts Board of Governors starts believing The Daily Prophet too? I don't want anyone but Professor Dumbledore as headmaster in my seventh year."
"Don't worry about that," Kyle reassured him. "The one role Dumbledore will never relinquish is Hogwarts headmaster."