Work Text:
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I Do Not Own Harry Potter.
All Characters Appearing In This Work Are Fictitious. Any Resemblance To Real Persons, Living Or Dead Is Purely Coincidental.
Ordee of Merlin: Third Class.
Once Minerva McGonagall had finished she turned her sharp gaze towards the Minister of Magic. “I have fulfilled my promise to the Fallen. Minister, it is time you do the same.”
Kingsley bowed his head at her words. “Indeed, Headmistress. The time has come for us to honour our oaths to the fallen.”
He addressed the crowd, his voice solemn. “It is both my pleasure and sorrow to announce the beginning of the Ceremony for the Order of Merlin.
Pleasure, because I may thank those brave men and women who risked their lives to free us from tyranny.
Sorrow, because many whom I would call friends and family did not live to see this day.
“Remember this: all it takes for a tyrant to rise is for good men to do nothing. History, magical and non-magical alike, is full of moments where a single act changed the fate of nations.
“For those unaware, the three classes of the Order of Merlin was originally created to recognise different forms of magical excellence.
Bravery and distinction, achievement and endeavour, and contributions to knowledge, culture or entertainment are each worthy of recognition in their own right.
“However for generations, Ministry administrators have viewed the Order principally as a tiered structure, with the classes serving, at times, as little more than a measure of political favour and prestige.
Yet when one looks more closely at the history and origins of the honour itself, it becomes clear that the three classes were intended to stand parallel to one another, rather than form a hierarchy of worth.
“For who among us can judge, without a shadow of doubt, that bravery is inherently greater than knowledge? Or knowledge greater than the contributions we make to our culture and entertainment?
They are different virtues, different forms of excellence, and different ways in which a witch or wizard may leave the magical world better than they found it. None is inherently greater than the other.
“To receive any Order of Merlin, therefore, is a great honour, for there is little difference or distinction in honour. Let us not forget that truth.”
His expression softened into a warmer smile. “Now, as tradition dictates, we begin with the recipients of the
“The class of an Order, therefore, should not be understood as a measure of the recipient’s worth. It reflects the nature of the achievement being honoured. To receive any Order of Merlin is a great honour.”
Third Class is usually awarded for contributions to knowledge or entertainment.
However, with the approval of the Wizengamot, it has been decided that witches and wizards who have not yet reached the age of seventeen by year's end, but who have shown extraordinary courage, shall also be recognised with the Order of Merlin, Third Class.
Although bravery and valour cannot be measured by age, unfortunately they can be measured by bureaucracy. And so, this honour is theirs.”
The audience chuckled and applauded politely. Kingsley unrolled a parchment. “We shall begin with the posthumous awards. The first recipient is Colin Creevey of Gryffindor.
Though he fell in battle, he shall remain immortal in the hearts of those who knew him best. Professor McGonagall, please present this honour to his parents.”
The Great Hall burst into applause as Colin’s mother rose, tears streaking her cheeks.
She accepted the plaque and ribbon with trembling hands, the Gryffindor flag folded neatly beside them. Minerva’s voice was warm, carrying both strength and compassion.
“Mrs Creevey, your son was a student in my house. He embodied bravery, selflessness, and noble sacrifice. He died a hero, saving younger students as they fled. It was an honour to teach him, and his curiosity inspired his peers to be the best they could be.”
Her words eased the mother’s grief, if only slightly, and she returned to her seat with pride swelling in her heart.
And as the next names were called out, the sun continued to rise higher in the sky, pressing on in its silent journey westward, as though marking the passage of time with quiet dignity.
An hour later, Kingsley looked down at his parchment again.
“As we near the end of the Third Class recipients, I wish to highlight one name whose contribution was extraordinary. The first of which is Dennis Creevey, who thanks to his quick thinking and bravery managed to repel a seemingly immense horde of Dementors from the castle walls by rallying the support of former members of the Hogwarts Quidditch team.”
The applause thundered. Dennis Creevey, still wounded, limped to the stage. He accepted his plaque and ribbon with shaking hands, his eyes burning with grief and resolve.
He looked at McGonagall and silently vowed to complete his brother’s dream, to train his body and mind to their limits, and to pursue justice to the ends of the earth.
Minerva recognised the dangerous glint in his eyes—the look of a boy transformed into a wounded lion.
She said nothing though, knowing this was a conversation for another day.
Finally, Kingsley called the last names. “Luke Nakamura and Michael Agrawal.
These two young wizards taught us that magic is not always might, and that courage can take many forms. They protected the hospital wing during the battle, and helped us begin the long journey of repairing our relations with the centaurs.
For their bravery, I present them with the Order of Merlin, Third Class.” The applause rose again. Luke accepted his plaque in Hufflepuff colours, bowed low before Professor Sprout, and laid his wand at her feet in the manner of his people.
Michael, in Ravenclaw blue and bronze, prostrated himself before Professor Flitwick, touching his teacher’s feet as was customary in his culture. Both gestures, though simple, carried a weight of reverence that moved their professors to tears.
At Minerva’s request, Slughorn stepped forward to explain.
“What you saw were ancient rituals of respect. In some cultures, students honour their teachers by bowing, laying down their weapons, or touching their feet.
Though rarely practised today, these gestures are ceremonies of humility and reverence—and they remind us that knowledge is a gift passed from master to student.”
The audience burst into whispers, but this time it was mostly the magical denizens rather than the Muggles, who—thanks to the sheer size of the non-magical world among other factors—found this explanation fairly logical and ordinary. The irony however was not lost on them.
Kingsley returned to the podium. “This concludes the Order of Merlin, Third Class. Before we continue to the Second Class, let us break for lunch. The house-elves of Hogwarts have prepared a feast, and all are welcome.
For those of you who are vegetarian are allergic or have any sort of other dietary restrictions to certain foods, please feel free to contact any of the teachers, and they will be happy to try and accommodate your request, within reason of course.
Lunch will last for two hours, after which we shall reconvene to resume the ceremony.”