Albus Dumbledore thoughtfully eyed the demure young lady seated in her chair before the Headmaster's desk and calmly staring back at him. His normal ever-present amused twinkle lurking within the elderly wizard's gaze was for once completely gone, an indication of just how serious the situation now was involving Hermione Granger's latest summons to Dumbledore's office. Another clue was the fact that her two closest friends had not been invited to this meeting, leading to only a fifth-year student and an aged man presently together in the tower room continuing to hold each others' intent look as if it were some sort of silent competition.

Blinking first and feeling a bit aggrieved over this minor defeat, Dumbledore cleared his throat. He then shot towards his visitor a rather disapproving expression. "Miss Granger, do you have any explanation for your recent actions?"

"Seventeen," promptly answered Hermione, her own face utterly blank.

Dumbledore waited a few moments for something more than that single word to be added to Miss Granger's response. When nothing else was said by her, Dumbledore began to get genuinely cranky at this actual defiance from one of his students. The latest school term was already quite stressful, what with Professor Umbridge being forced upon him as an unwanted Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher by a paranoid Minister Fudge. He didn't need this too, even if that girl in a deserted classroom had a mere hour ago performed one of the most impressive feats of magic ever sensed by Dumbledore and everyone else in Hogwarts which interrupted the entire castle's formerly peaceful weekend.

As a result of this, the Headmaster's next couple of snappish sentences had more than a touch of ire within them. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to do much better than that as an excuse for tampering with the Hogwarts wards! It shouldn't have even been possible in the first place! More important, I want to know just what you did! There's nothing actually wrong I can find with the castle protections, but they're definitely different from what they were before! Either tell me right now, Miss Granger, or you'll be facing severe punishment for this morning's commotion!"

Instead of meekly obeying as Dumbledore expected and confessing all with tears in her eyes, Hermione simply shrugged and next arose from this young lady's chair. Standing there while the Headmaster regarded her with growing astonishment, the wizard's bewilderment increased further at hearing from this composed student, "If you really want to know, sir, it'd be a great deal quicker to show you. All we need to do is to go down to the Great Hall, and you'll soon see for yourself."

Dumbledore abruptly felt a cold flicker of caution come over him, dousing with ease his immense annoyance. There was clearly something going on here, involving Miss Granger. That had to be dealt with carefully, given how close she was to Harry. The Boy-Who-Lived was vital to Albus' schemes and young Mr. Potter hadn't a very pleasant time last year while competing in the recent Tri-Wizard Tournament. The unwavering companionship and good advice provided by this girl at the time were crucial in helping Harry survive everything. Albus knew there was a real danger of permanently driving away the only person capable of destroying Voldemort for good if he acted rashly in this matter.

Making up his mind without any hesitation, the Headmaster sent towards the waiting girl a dignified nod and got to his own feet. Waving a courteous hand towards the office door, Dumbledore inquired in his most grandfatherly tone, "Very well, Miss Granger. Shall we?"

The two magical people spent the next few minutes descending from the Hogwarts tower by the castle stairs and then walking together side-by-side towards the Great Hall. Neither said a word the entire way, even though Dumbledore tried at every stride to think of what possible reasons there might be for their upcoming presence at-

*Ah, yes, lunchtime,* the Headmaster was reminded while noticing the familiar sounds drifting through the air at the pair pausing just before the open doorway at the rear of the Great Hall. Another couple of steps forward for both Albus and Hermione had the noise of the entire population at their house tables while eating and talking abruptly lower by the hall's occupants catching sight of the exact same person they'd been avidly discussing since the beginning of their meal.

It was now quiet enough so that the whole school there next saw and heard Hermione turn to a startled Headmaster and bitterly inform him, "Seventeen times just for the last week alone, Professor! Wait right here and see how number eighteen gets said straight into my face!"

Leaving behind a dumbfounded wizard, Hermione headed directly towards the occupied Slytherin table. Those seated students clustered around the table in their robes and green ties watched her approach in mutual suspicion but otherwise stayed silent when Hermione stopped an arm's length from there, save for one certain individual. Naturally.

Putting his finest sneer upon his visage, Draco Malfoy at the head of the table supremely sure his prefect position, pureblood ancestry, and do-you-know-who-my-father-is arrogance would protect him then loudly declared at Hermione, "Go away, you filthy mudblood- GAHK!"

That final yelp, however muffled, was still delivered at sufficient volume to override the indrawn gasps from the rest of the hall at hearing such an obscene insult, the worse thing you could call any muggleborn witch or wizard. Particularly when these gasps turned into shocked shouts at seeing what happened next to Draco. Staggering onto his feet from his position at the Slytherin table, Draco clapped both hands to his mouth, but he was unable to stop spewing from there a continuous flow of muddy liquid.

With yells of alarm, the Slytherins closest to Draco got sprayed with mud which splattered all over their clothes and hair. A speedy abandonment of their house table soon had a wild-eyed Draco standing alone at the head of the table, spitting and ejecting mouthfuls of water intermixed with soil whenever he couldn't keep his lips shut together. Glaring around the Great Hall where three-fourths of the students were laughing at him and the remainder by the main doors were regarding him in disgust, Draco noticed Hermione at the other end of the table smirking at him.

Accompanied by a screech of sheer rage which coated most of the tabletop with dripping mud, Draco pointed at the triumphant Gryffindor. In between even more sprays of sludge, Draco managed, "HERRRRR!" Blat!"SHE-" Glup!"-DID IT!" Thwaaark!

The room immediately hushed (save for even more Slytherin disgorging) to let Hermione gleefully answer to the Great Hall at large, "Well, for once Draco Malfoy got it right! Yes! I spent all last night sneaking into the library's restricted section to learn everything I could about the castle wards! For some reason a hundred years ago, the anti-bullying measures got taken down, but I put them back up again!"

Pausing to savor her revenge, Hermione was interrupted in this by another female's sickly-sweet voice ranting at the top of her lungs.

"Hem, hem! You horrible child, how dare you mistreat the son of a personal friend to the Minister of Magic! Stop it at once or you'll be expelled!"

Hermione glowered at where a wrathful Professor Umbridge was leaning across the top of the Staff Table and shaking a fleshy fist at the younger woman. In her own syrupy tone, Hermione uttered a concise, "Can't."

From where he was witnessing all this in awed fascination with Ron at the Gryffindor table, Harry Potter saw Umbridge's toad-like features then turn a purple color matching his Uncle Vernon's facial tints whenever that fat man thoroughly lost his temper about a detested nephew. Umbridge then bellowed, "Don't you dare tell me that! If you think your wand won't be snapped for this-!"

"Have you spent too much time squatting on your lily pad so you went deaf?" Hermione shouted back. "I didn't say I wouldn't, just that I can't! I put enough power in the spell to stop bullies so that it's now a permanent part of the wards! The only way to turn it off now is to get rid of the whole wards and create new ones! Since it took all of the Hogwarts Founders to do this a thousand years ago, good luck with your own try!"

Umbridge's voice now reached decibel levels capable of hurting cowering dogs' ears a mile away. "Ridiculous! There's no way a disgusting muggleborn like you could- You stole someone's magic! That's got to be it! Admit your crimes, you little mudblood- UUGGHHH!"

This time, Umbridge's spray of mud spewing out from her gaping mouth failed to splash her table neighbors, since Professor Sprout and Madame Hooch were both quick enough on their feet to leap sideways out of range from their chairs.

An impressed audience then stared at where Hermione was herself observing with a faint smile both a still-heaving Umbridge and her blond companion in their shared misery. This scene was soon broken by the Headmaster's soft cough.

"Excuse me, Miss Granger, but I'd like to be certain. Your spell is indeed permanent? Does that mean Mr. Malfoy and Professor Umbridge are sadly doomed to-"

"Oh, no," Hermione rushed to reassure Dumbledore looking remarkably deadpan. "The first part will last only for an hour."

There was now absolute stillness in the Great Hall. Even Draco and Umbridge managed to clamp shut their mouths in sudden alarm, while they and the rest of the crowd warily gazed at where Hermione was shrugging her shoulders.

"Most people won't need more than a single lesson, I'm sure. Of course, there's always the chance for the really stupid bullies to forget what happened to them and do it all over again. No more than that, though. It'd take somebody dumber than even a troll to risk a third time." As if she'd been struck by a very happy thought, Hermione grinned nearly ear-to-ear with a decidedly evil expression.

Unfortunately, the girl did this directly at where Umbridge was trying in vain to wipe away brown dribbles seeping from the corners of the held-tight older woman's lips. Her temper instantly snapping like a yanked thread, Umbridge went for her wand.

With his Seeker reflexes, Harry managed to draw his own wand much more faster and he was about to shout out a "Stupefy!" to stop that toad from cursing Hermione. Except, there wasn't really any point, since Umbridge's slippery, mid-encrusted hand lost her grip on this woman's wand in the middle of it being yanked out of a pink coat pocket. The older witch's wand went sailing away out of reach, dropping with a clatter onto the floor of the Great Hall.

Another wave of raucous laughter washed throughout the room. Maddened even further by this jeering of those she considered her inferiors, Umbridge screamed at Hermione through yet more sprays of liquefied muck, "YOU- YOU- MUDBLOOD!"

Everyone froze, including Umbridge. Her eyes widened at suddenly feeling her mouth to be empty of that vile mud…until that space was then promptly refilled with a completely different substance. One that made Umbridge devotedly wish for the previous mud to come back, because what was now in her mouth had a flavor exactly the same as the organic material produced by an entirely different bodily orifice of this witch.

In short, it tasted like shit.

The sight, the smell, and above all the sounds of Umbridge collapsing onto the Staff Table and proceeding to vomit what looked like the contents of a clogged loo at the worse Knockturn Alley men's room caused every upright occupant to stampede in unison out through the main entryway of the Great Hall. Once they were all clear, the double doors were slammed closed, thankfully hiding what was still going on inside.

No, strike that. A few seconds later, one door was opened a crack, and Draco Malfoy along with his nonstop mud-mouth was briskly shoved back into the room. Again, the Great Hall door was shut and hit with a multiplicity of anti-Alohomora charms by all there with a ready wand. Just in case.

In the crowded hall antechamber stuffed with Hogwarts students and staff save for the respectful space where Albus Dumbledore and Hermione Granger were standing, the Headmaster was tiredly cross-examining an unrepentant Gryffindor. "How long will the effects last, Miss Granger?"

"Like I said before, an hour for, er, both. After that, it'll stop."

Dumbledore gave his forehead a weary rub with one hand. "Very well. Mipsy, Blitt!"

At that command, two of the Hogwarts house-elves popped into existence by the Headmaster. They both looked up at where the aged wizard was regarding these little creature waiting for orders. Without further ado, Dumbledore ordered, "Blitt and Mipsy, take Mr. Malfoy and Professor Umbridge respectively to separate bathrooms not normally used. Provide towels, cushions, plus whatever else might be necessary, along with replacement garments for them when it's over. Burn everything they leave behind. Oh, and tell the other elves to clean the Great Hall from top to bottom. That's all. You may go."

"Yes, Headmasters Dumbledores," the two elves glumly replied in their squeaky voices, pointy ears drooping at the awful tasks they'd just been commanded to perform. The magical creatures then vanished from sight with identical pop! sounds.

Thinking that Hogwarts' latest bout of chaos had now come to an end, the crowd began to scatter back to their classrooms, only to pause in this to watch where Dumbledore was guardedly examining Hermione where this witch and wizard were still facing each other in the antechamber. They all heard then a final question from the Headmaster.

"I believe you mentioned a third consequence of harassment among the castle occupants, is that correct, Miss Granger?"

Hermione just nodded. It took the lifting of a single bushy eyebrow by an otherwise-silent Dumbledore to make her admit, "Yes, but unlike the first and second result of saying that word, the third won't last for more than five minutes in their mouths."

"And why should this be so, young lady?"

Instead of replying right away, Hermione glanced around the other people until she found who she was looking for lurking within hearing range in a shadowy antechamber corner. Then, she turned to face an awaiting Headmaster to tell him and everyone else avidly listening, "Because there's no point for anything longer, not with concentrated hydrochloric acid."

Unseen by anyone else, Professor Snape flinched at where he was skulking, only to sternly remind himself that how he treated those dunderheads was not bullying. The half-imaginary sensation of the bottom of his tongue beginning to burn told him quite different, though.

Slinking away, a Potions Master contemplated that perhaps his teaching methods might require a minor bit of tweaking into actual education for at least any class for which Miss Granger was attending…