Likely Normal

When the Ministry of Magic adopted OSHA (Office of Spellcasting and Hazardous Activities) regulations, Hogwarts was thrown into chaos—not by Dark wizards or rogue Blast-Ended Skrewts, but by bureaucratic red tape. The Forbidden Forest was immediately flagged for violations, with Hagrid receiving a 17-page citation for “allowing minors to interact with classified creatures without proper safety gear.” Buckbeak was now required to wear a harness during flights, Aragog’s offspring had to provide signed liability waivers before snacking on students, and even the unicorns demanded hazard pay for “excessive emotional handling by unstable wizards.”

The Great Hall’s enchanted ceiling, once a marvel of magical artistry, was deemed a workplace hazard. Falling candles? “Unsecured fire risk.” Floating pumpkins? “Potential blunt-force trauma.” And Peeves? Banned outright for “creating a hostile work environment.” Dumbledore’s argument that magic made everything safe fell flat when the inspector pointed to Neville’s long history of broomstick-related injuries.

Quidditch was hit hardest. Madam Hooch was forced to implement mandatory 12-hour broom safety seminars, players had to wear helmets and kneepads (ruining the sport’s lethal charm), and the Golden Snitch was slowed to a “reasonable speed,” stretching matches into weeks-long slogs. Meanwhile, Snape’s Potions class was nearly shut down—no eye protection, constant cauldron explosions, and Neville’s mere presence were all violations. Students now brewed in full hazmat suits, and every potion came with a 30-page disclaimer (“May cause spontaneous combustion, existential dread, or worse—mild indigestion”).

Even the castle itself wasn’t spared. The moving staircases were flagged for lacking handrails (which they vanished out of spite), Filch gleefully posted “Caution: Stairs May Vanish Without Notice” signs, and students had to sign waivers just to go to class. After weeks of inspections, Dumbledore called an emergency staff meeting where McGonagall suggested turning the inspectors into ferrets, Snape ranted about “Muggle nonsense,” and Hagrid accidentally brought in a crate of exploding skrewts—earning yet another citation.

In the end, the Ministry compromised: Hogwarts could keep its deadly charm, but only if everyone wore high-visibility robes and signed waivers acknowledging that magic was, by nature, absurdly dangerous. And so, Voldemort’s ultimate downfall came not from a prophecy or a well-aimed Expelliarmus, but from a 300-page OSHA report condemning Horcruxes as “egregious workplace safety violations.”

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