Disclaimer: Not mine; no money.

Thanks go to my wonderful beta, Southern Witch 69 – Umbridge would lock you away for Mis-Behavior right after she got me – and that’s the highest compliment I can give to anyone!




Charcoal-Grey #10

May 1st, 9:37 am


The ten minutes are up, and the last of the mist will have dispersed. I breathe a sigh of relief and cast a nonverbal Finite Incantatem to cancel the Obscuro Nebula. Fortunately, the Think Pink Brigade remains unmoving.

Umbridge’s syrupy tones continue to assault the gathering. “… because as we all know a Proper Smile is the most crucial element of any social system built upon the principles of Proper Behavior and …”

Circe! She’s been waffling on about Proper Smiles for over ten minutes now!

It’s a good thing it won’t be for much longer.

The crowd begins to shift a bit restlessly, and I can see that the Proper Smiles of the people directly in front of the stage I’m on start to falter.

It’s time for the next step.

Sliding my wand surreptitiously up my sleeve, I flourish my handkerchief again.

“All right, Ginny. All that practice you’ve been putting in to learn how to wield two wands simultaneously? Well, it’s time to put it to use. This year, you’ll Levitate Fred and George again, but you’ll do so with them on opposite sides of the crowd. If all goes well, the Think Pink Brigade should divide into two smaller units to deal with them.”

As Ginny, a wand in each hand, Levitates the twins so that they each rise above the heads of the people in their respective corners, the Think Pink Brigade reacts almost immediately, splitting in two and marching away from the central stage along the outer edges of the crowd.

The sound of the Brigade’s stomp/squeak begins to rival Umbridge’s voice as she continues with her speech as if nothing were occurring.

Pink #5 patent leather glinting in the sunlight, arms rising and falling in perfect time, the two groups move with eerie simultaneity. Nervously Smiling people dart anxiously out of their way, pushing towards the center and then forward to fill the now vacated space. Lee and Snape both let themselves be carried close to the central stage.

The movement of the crowd has the added benefit of clearing the path between the advancing Think Pinkers and the Levitating twins.

“If crowd dynamics go as I predict, Fred and George will have a clear shot at their respective units of the Brigade. But even if there are citizens in the way, it shouldn’t matter, because we’re going to rely on that Weasley ingenuity of yours to create a special jinx that should only affect the Think Pinkers.”

Using that special bond the twins have, they act synchronously, brandishing their wands in a complex swirl and yelling: “Congelo Scortea!”

Brilliant orange light flies from the tips of their wands and rushes to engulf the Think Pinkers.

They freeze in mid-step, poised on one thin stiletto heel apiece, all of their right arms caught at the top of a swinging arc – the patent leather of their robes and boots becoming as stiff and immobile as the hard plastic it resembles.

At the same time that their marching stomp/squeak stops abruptly, Umbridge’s voice also falls silent, allowing the triumphant whoops of Fred and George to ring over the assembly. It’s the most joyous sound yet of this entire celebration.

Finally alerted that something untoward is occurring, Watcher Marple looks forward, gasps, and begins to rise.

Oh, no you don’t!

One sharp elbow jab to her sternum – well, it would have been a sharp jab if she weren’t wearing so many layers of ruffles, but it appears to be sharp enough – and the Watch Witch doubles over, gasping for breath. A nonverbal Stupefy later and she crumples bonelessly beside me.

Everyone else on my platform stares in such gobsmacked wonder at the spectacle before them that they don’t even blink as I hit them with Stunners.

But Umbridge appears to have got over her shock and is yelling at the Pink Party members on the central stage to “Get them … Get those Mis-Behaving freaks” while waving her clawed hands in dizzying flashes of glitter.

Time for part two.

Jumping up, I wave my left hand wildly overhead while pointing my wand into the air above the crowd.

Ginny immediately lets the twins down, and all three of them similarly point their wands. Soon after, Snape and Lee mimic our pose.

“We’ll need to create another spell in addition to the one designed to plasticize patent leather. We need to do something showy, something to jar the people from their complacency. We need to provide them with a visual symbol that Umbridge is being overthrown.”

I raise my left fist one, two, three times and on the third count yell, “Coloro Optatus!” A beam of dark purple energy shoots from the end of my wand at the same time that five other streams of magic erupt from the other members of Back in Black.

It takes us a few seconds to correct our aims, but soon all of the beams meet at one point over the center of the mass of people. A ball of swirling dark purple forms and slowly begins to grow.

“This spell is going to take an amazing amount of power if we’re to affect hundreds of people at once. It is not something any one of us could do alone – it will take a combined effort. Right before Umbridge banned all non-Ministry research, Cleverly Huxton published an article on how to create a combined spell powered by multiple casters. Although the article itself was also immediately banned, I memorized the theory. Forcing me into that library job in order to crush my morale is going to prove one of the biggest mistakes Umbridge ever made.”

My arm shakes from the strain of holding a spell for such a long time. If it weren’t for the added boost of Ginny’s second wand and the raw power of the thick beam emanating from Snape, I’m not sure any of this would be possible.

The dark ball of energy grows, and as it does so, it begins to spin ever faster, shooting off small bolts of lightning in varying colors.

Come on, come on, this has to work!

Sweat runs down my face, bringing the flavor of salt to my mouth as my lips pull back in a desperate grimace of effort. My right shoulder throbs in pain, and my hand muscles begin to cramp.

Suddenly there’s an explosion that’s so loud it’s felt within my internal organs instead of being heard with my ears.

Colors – innumerable, heart-wrenchingly beautiful colors – flow over me, joining to create a wave of Black.

When I come to a few seconds later, I’m on my back. Rolling onto my left side, I push up on that arm, leaving my wand hand poised and ready.

And the arm lifting my wand is incased in sage-green silk, my thighs sheathed by a black skirt, which a flick of my wand turns into ever more practical trousers. A similar alteration changes tottering heels to thick-soled boots. Then, purely for vanity’s sake, I whisk away the ruffles, lace, and appliqués.

I’m dressed as me for the first time in absolute ages!

And that’s exactly the feeling I’m hoping we’ve created in almost everyone here today.

I stand quickly to look out over a felled crowd that, while still all human, no longer appears homogenous. A rainbow of colors decorates the people – here a young woman in heart-stopping red, there an elderly man in Albus’s favorite deep purple, next a middle-aged man in warm chocolate brown, then a little girl in brilliant canary yellow. The variety goes on and on.

Searching in his general vicinity, I spot Snape. He’s one of the first standing.

And he’s Back in Black.

I grin, and when he catches my eye, he raises an eyebrow before casually flicking his beard away with a quick wand movement.

We’re both smirking.

But something brushes my ankle, and I look down to see a befuddled Watcher Marple stirring feebly. If everyone who happens to be in front of me wears clothing in a variety of colors, seeing her reminds me of the one other facet we’d built into the spell.

“While almost everyone’s clothes will change to the color of their desire, if we apply the correct intent while casting, the spell will also show us exactly who is actually loyal to the Party. They will, as you may expect, be clothed in Pink.”

Casting another Stupefy followed by an Incarcerous on her Pink #5 clad form, I turn towards the stage.

About two thirds of the people thereon, around a dozen say, still don varying shades of Pink. While the ones wearing other colors scramble down the stairs and run forwards to disappear into the crowd, the loyal Party members form a circle around Umbridge. For once, the Anti-Apparition Charm works in our favor.

“Everyone is going to be confused at first, even our enemies. Since they should all be wearing Pink, we’ll move to Stun them as quickly as possible. Ginny, you and the twins will work your way forwards from the back. Any of the Think Pink Brigade who are loyal will still be held by the leather-hardening spell, so concentrate on the crowd. Lee, Snape, and I will rush the stages. Lee, as soon as you have the left-hand stage subdued, you will make an announcement to the people – I leave the exact wording up to you. Snape and I will handle the central stage and Umbridge.”

After casting Incarcerous on three more Pink-clad people on my stage, I catch Snape’s eye again and flick my head sideways towards where Umbridge awaits.

He nods and moves forward to join me, cutting through the confused and milling people easily, wearing his preferred frock coat and trousers.

He looks good.

What do I mean he looks good? He looks like himself.

Well, then, his self looks good.

You’ve got to focus, Granger.

My eyes flicker to the assemblage behind him. More and more people are slowly getting to their feet. Many appear dazed.

None Smile Properly.

Not that there aren’t expressions of joy – there are – only they’re true ones. I see one woman look down at her dark-green dress and grin happily; a little boy runs by in deep blue, whooping and jumping; a laughing man reaches down to pet – yes, pet – his dark-brown shoes.

And instead of the stultifying silence of a well-behaved crowd, the sound of tens of voices begins to swell, adding new notes as the Veritaserum compels more and more people to vocalize their real thoughts.

And underneath the sounds of joy, there hums a growing buzz of anger.

Perfect!

As long as Lee can keep them from lynching anyone, that is.

Snape reaches me, and I turn my attention from the crowd. Quickly mounting the stairs side-by-side with him, I find my heart racing even before the first bolt of red flies towards me. I immediately begin firing nonverbal hexes into the mass of Pink surrounding Umbridge.

While Snape knows a variety of spells, as I can tell from the differing colors flying from his wand, I keep mine simple. Even if we’re not saying them out loud, there’s still a time difference in thinking six or seven syllables versus three.

As a witch on the left is thrown back by a jinx from Snape, one on my right screams, “Crucio!” while pointing her wand at me.

My heart gives a start, and my stomach clenches, as I barely have time to take the breath necessary to shout out a “Protego!”

She falls to the platform writhing in agony when the bounced spell hits her squarely on her lace-covered chest.

There’s no time to cancel the spell affecting her – an approaching wizard steps around her writhing form and makes a slashing motion towards my head with his wand.

Ducking quickly, I lunge forward to come up under his out-flung arm and jam my wand into his stomach while shouting, “Impedimenta!” No use keeping that one silent – he wasn’t about to be able to block it.

As he flies backwards to crash into three people behind him, I cast a quick Incarcerous to ensure he won’t cause any more problems anytime soon. Three quick Stunners take care of the somewhat dazed Pink Party members he knocked over, but I’m panting now from a potent combination of adrenaline and exertion. My hands vibrate.

I glance up to see only three more people guarding Umbridge. Then there’s a flash of blue and a short scream sounds from one before they fall to the platform completely silent. Make it two.

But those two are Mayona Counterblossom – the Commander of the Think Pink Brigade and one of the best duelers known – and Dietrick Malmentis, who runs the Behavioral Reconditioning Camps and is single-handedly responsible for creating the Pinking Process – quite the nasty piece of work, he is.

Colors flashing to my left indicate Snape is exchanging hexes with Counterblossom at a lightning pace.

Barely deflecting an Incendio from Malmentis, I fire off a nonverbal Stupefy, but he blocks it.

My intestines give another lurch, and a sick feeling washes outwards over me, temporarily weakening my limbs.

I can’t outfight him.

Well, then, Granger, don’t play his game!

The first syllable of “Crucio!” is just crossing his lips when I dive to my right. The hard impact with the platform sends pain shooting from my right elbow, and the air hisses out of my lungs.

Even though he turns to track my movement, he doesn’t lower his wand enough to account for my new lack of height, and the Unforgivable hisses through the air above my left hip.

Come on – do it!

Remaining on my right side, I rear back my left leg and kick him as strongly as possible on the kneecap. The grotesque pop of it dislocating is almost drowned out by his scream as he falls and clutches at the damaged appendage.

Unfortunately, touching it makes it hurt even worse. He actually hits the note of the Seriously Serious Siren for a moment, and I wonder if the crowd cringes in conditioned response.

Then I realize that the overwhelming wall of sound coming from the crowd will drown out any noise Malmentis could make before it reaches six feet.

I lay panting for three quick breaths, rolling off my injured arm and flexing it a few times to determine that it still works. Lifting my left hand, I wipe away the sweat that’s just beginning to sting my eyes.

Then I Stun him.

Goddess – I’m glad I read that Muggle self-defense book – even if I didn’t get the chance to use much of it during the Final Battle, knowledge always proves out in the end.

Scrambling to my feet, I realize there’s no one standing but me and Umbridge, who appears frozen in shock.

I smirk.

Just like her Brigade!

A quick glance to the left shows Snape half lying, half sitting on the platform, still conscious and using Incarcerous to bind the fallen Party members. He flicks his head towards Umbridge and nods.

But I remain still, spellbound, because Lee’s voice suddenly resounds from the left stage. “People of the Wizarding World, the members of Back in Black bid you joy on this momentous occasion!” There’s no note of seduction in this voice – our purpose today is to lead. Instead, he conveys a compelling mixture of warmth and determination. “Because today, we can change the tide of history. Today, we can overthrow a tyrannical leader and make sure none of her stooges takes her place. Today, we can rise up and let it be known that we have had enough!” Each point is punctuated by him throwing his left arm up and forward with hand open instead of closed into a fist.

The approving roar from the crowd is deafening after years of enforced silence.

As the rumble gradually fades, Lee gestures to the people that he’d like to begin the next section. Right as he chooses to do so, a loud screech of anger from nearby draws me back to my immediate surroundings.

Umbridge appears to have realized things might not be going her way.

“You!” Umbridge squeals in a voice made even more irritatingly high-pitched than usual. “You can’t do this! I’ll have you arrested for Mis-Behavior. I’ll have you Pinked! Do you know who I am?”

Or maybe she hasn’t. Circe! She doesn’t even have her wand out.

“Why, yes, I do.” I’m sure my smirk rivals Snape’s in sheer sardonicness. Finally facing her, I’m completely calm – my heart beat and breathing normal, my hands steady. “You’re a sad individual who should never have been given power.”

I take a step towards her, and she flinches.

“Any kind of power.”

With my next step, she raises her empty bejeweled hands to push at the air in front of her.

“Ever.”

Her tiny eyes seem to shrink further as I raise my wand. It’s as if the Pink clothing and the Pink hair and the Pink world she created would always be enough to keep her safe.

But it isn’t.

Not from me.

Not from Back in Black.

“Fusco Incarcerous!”

As the ropes leap from my wand to wrap her tightly, I laugh at the look on her face when she sees the results of my spell variation. She has every right to be horrified. As disgusting as she appears in Pink, she actually does look worse in Black.




AN: More bad Latin! Congelo Scortea = harden leather garment, Coloro Optatus = color desired, and Fusco = blackened.

I'll post the final chapter tomorrow.

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