As the sensation of being yanked hard by a hook behind the navel faded away, Snape and the tightly gripped Corban Yaxley slammed heavily onto a soft carpet.
Snape immediately rolled to the side with practiced agility, raised his wand, and swept his gaze around warily, ready for a possible attack. He soon realized, however, that the movement was unnecessary.
The Headmaster's Office of Hogwarts was completely empty.
A flood of familiar sights rushed toward him:
Those strange silver instruments whirring and spinning atop slender-legged tables, puffing out silvery vapor; Dumbledore's broad desk and the high-backed chair behind it; and the cabinets along the walls crammed full of books and bizarre devices.
Everything seemed frozen at the exact moment he had left. Even the faint scent in the air, a mixture of lemon drops, parchment, and old wood, had not changed in the slightest.
It was as if he had only just closed the office door and departed, with Professor McGonagall and the others' footsteps still echoing on the spiral staircase outside.
This eerie sense of familiarity left him momentarily dazed.
At that moment, the former headmasters' portraits lining the walls were startled awake by the sudden disturbance.
They rubbed their eyes, yawned, and stared in astonishment at Snape and the tightly bound Yaxley who had appeared in the center of the office.
"Merlin's beard!"
"How did he get back?"
"And that one is..."
The portraits buzzed with discussion. Several particularly curious headmasters even stepped through adjoining frames, squeezing closer to get a better look at the unexpected scene.
Snape ignored their curiosity and chatter.
He strode quickly to Yaxley, who was still unconscious, and used his wand to undo the ropes binding him.
Then he pulled up Yaxley's left sleeve, revealing the ugly, grotesque Dark Mark. Seizing Yaxley's short, thick right index finger, he pressed it firmly against the skull and snake branded into the man's forearm.
The Dark Mark instantly flared hot and sharp, sending a silent summons to its master, Lord Voldemort.
Once finished, Snape bound Yaxley again with magical cords.
Straightening up, he walked to the tightly shut window and looked outside.
A thin layer of condensation clung to the glass.
Beyond it, Hogwarts lay beneath a gloomy, early-morning light.
The grounds were empty and silent. Mist curled along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and even the ill-tempered Whomping Willow drooped its branches listlessly.
Everything was unnaturally quiet.
In that instant, gazing at the familiar and sleeping scene, a powerful wish surged in Snape's heart. He wished he could keep watching, watch the castle awaken in peace.
But he had more important things to do.
He did not allow himself to linger. Turning away, Snape strode toward the office door.
A thin layer of dust seemed to have settled on the spiral staircase. As he stepped onto it, it gave a faint creak and began to descend slowly, carrying him toward the exit below.
At the same time, the wall slid open, revealing a passage.
The moment he stepped out, he heard the familiar, gravelly voice of the stone gargoyle.
"Boy, long time no see! How did you come out from there? Where's Dumbledore?"
"That's a long story, sweet-guard," Snape replied without breaking stride, glancing sideways at the gargoyle. "I will explain it properly when there is time. For now, please excuse me. This is urgent business of the Headmaster."
After giving the gargoyle a brief nod, he hurried down the corridor toward the main staircase.
Just before rounding a corner, he suddenly heard a clinking, clattering sound ahead.
At the same time, a very distinctive floral scent reached his nose, sweet and faintly intoxicating.
Snape immediately slipped into the shadow of a stone pillar along the corridor.
He saw several house-elves struggling to carry a few enormous wooden barrels, heading off in another direction.
Walking behind them was the graceful figure of a woman with shoulder-length blond hair.
"Madam," Snape called softly, wand in hand, cautiously leaning out, "what are you doing here?"
The figure jolted and spun around. It was Madam Rosmerta, the proprietor of the Three Broomsticks.
Seeing Snape, she clapped a hand over her mouth in shock.
"Sev...!" she exclaimed in a hushed voice. "You are not... you should be..."
Clearly startled, she quickly turned and used her tall figure to block the curious backward glances of the house-elves, urging them on sharply.
"Stop dawdling! Hurry up and deliver the mead to Headmaster Malfoy's office. Do not waste time!"
Only after the elves obediently turned the corner and their footsteps faded did Rosmerta turn back, anxiously reaching for Snape's arm.
"How can you be here? It's far too dangerous! Quick, come with me and leave Hogwarts..."
Snape instinctively avoided her grasp.
Seeing the look of shock on her face, he smiled openly, though his hand still gripped his wand tightly.
"Madam, do not be nervous," he said gently. "I have an amusing joke. Would you like to hear it? A witch, a Healer, and a Mimbulus mimbletonia walk into a charming little pub..."
Rosmerta stamped her foot hard, cutting him off.
"Severus!" she hissed, her voice low and urgent, edged with anger. "What are you doing? Do you know what time this is?"
Then she seemed to remember something. Her blue eyes blinked, and realization dawned. This was an old signal between them.
"Are you certain?" she glanced around reproachfully. "Here? This is not the time for jokes."
When Snape continued to look at her, Rosmerta shot him a fierce glare, then quickly checked both ends of the corridor. Finally, she forced out two dry, clenched laughs through gritted teeth.
"Ha. Ha."
"Satisfied?" she said, stepping closer and grabbing Snape's wrist, trying to drag him toward the stairs. "Come on! Most people are not awake yet. Follow me. Once we reach Hogsmeade, you can Apparate away..."
"Madam," Snape said quietly but firmly, freeing his hand. When she turned back, puzzled and anxious, he explained, "thank you for your concern. But I cannot go with you. I am here because there are important matters to attend to."
"Important matters or not, it is not your place!" Rosmerta snapped, both angry and worried. "Even if Dumbledore has disappeared, they should not have sent you to take such a risk!"
Snape hesitated for a brief moment, then leaned closer and spoke in a voice only the two of them could hear.
"Professor Dumbledore is coming back."
"What?" Rosmerta's already large eyes widened even further. "He... you all... are coming back?"
When Snape nodded firmly, she let out a long breath. Her brow knit tightly as she digested the shocking news, then slowly relaxed.
"All right," she said, looking at Snape. "I understand. I will act as if nothing happened. You... you must be careful."
Without waiting for his reply, she turned and hurried down the stairs, disappearing around the corner.
Watching her leave, Snape descended a few steps himself, stopping on a landing midway down the staircase.
He raised his wand, pointed it at a tall arched window, and murmured an incantation.
A brilliant flash, like silver fireworks, burst from the wand tip. Against the gray morning sky, it traced the clear outline of a magnificent sailing ship, shining for more than ten seconds before slowly fading away.
After sending the signal, Snape continued downward, arriving with practiced ease at the level where Professor Slughorn's office was located. He knocked on the door.
A moment later, a drowsy, muttering voice came from inside.
"Who is it? So early... disturbing my sleep..."
The door creaked open. Horace Slughorn appeared, wearing an opulent green velvet dressing gown and a matching nightcap, his eyes half closed with sleep.
When he blinked and recognized who stood outside, he shook his head violently, as if unable to believe his eyes, then slammed the door shut with a bang.
Almost immediately, the door was yanked open again. Any trace of sleepiness had vanished from Slughorn's plump face, replaced by expectation and tension.
After confirming it was no illusion, he seized Snape and dragged him into his stuffy, overcrowded study, crammed with books, candy boxes, and peculiar collections.
"Is it starting?" Slughorn said hurriedly, his voice trembling. Sweat beaded on his round face. "W-wait a moment!" He rolled like a ball into the adjoining bedroom.
A few seconds later, he reemerged, having squeezed his stout body into proper wizarding robes, though the collar was still askew.
"Let's go!" He drew in a deep breath, as if steeling himself, and headed for the door, waving his wand with an unexpectedly spirited tone. "I am ready!"
Snape saw a plump, silvery seal burst from the tip of Slughorn's wand. It wriggled agilely through the air, then shot out the window into the pale morning light, carrying a message to the other professors still at the school.
"Please wait a moment, Professor," Snape said. "There is one more thing I nearly forgot to do." He drew the newly acquired golden cup from his robe, then pulled out the gleaming silver dagger.
Under Slughorn's shocked and uncertain gaze, Snape placed the cup on the table, raised the dagger high, and plunged it down without hesitation.
After a scream filled with malice and hatred, the cup rapidly lost its luster, becoming dull and aged, as if it had weathered years of decay in an instant.
"That is..." Slughorn stared in horror, his face pale, his round body trembling slightly.
"Professor," Snape said, putting away the dagger and the remnants, "this is the final consequence of the words you spoke that day. From now on, you need no longer carry worry or guilt over it."
A complex expression crossed Slughorn's face, mixing shame, relief, and lingering fear.
"Oh, forgive me, my boy... it feels terribly disgraceful..."
"This was not your fault, Professor," Snape said more gently. "Even without your answer, given Tom Riddle's nature and obsession with immortality, he would have made that choice sooner or later."
He walked to Slughorn, who still looked somewhat dazed, and asked in a low voice, "Professor, have the students all been arranged?"
Slughorn finally snapped out of his trance. He slapped his plump cheeks hard a couple of times and forced himself to focus. "Ah, yes! Pomona and Poppy will follow the plan and take them to the Great Hall to assemble. We should hurry over as well."
The two of them left the office and entered the corridor.
The corridor was still empty, with only the sound of their footsteps echoing against the stone walls.
As they passed several rooms, Professor Slughorn suddenly stopped.
He lifted his eyes to glance out the window, a sly smile appearing on his face. Pointing at a tightly closed door beside them, he shot Snape a meaningful look. "Get ready, Severus."
Snape immediately understood. Without a sound, he flicked his wand and cast the Muffliato Charm around them, cutting off all noise from the area.
Professor Slughorn adjusted his expression, arranging his features into his signature genial smile, and knocked lightly on the door.
"Who is it?" an impatient female voice called from inside.
"Good morning, Alecto!" Professor Slughorn said in a cheerful tone. "The Felix Felicis I brewed for you and Amycus is ready."
A moment later, the door opened a crack, revealing Alecto Carrow's sleepy face.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Professor Slughorn's wand, hidden behind his back, snapped forward. A dazzling beam of light shot out and struck Alecto squarely in the chest.
She did not even manage a cry. Like a statue abruptly shoved over, her entire body went rigid and toppled backward, crashing onto the floor with a dull thud.
"Very good!" Slughorn said with satisfaction, closing the door and patting his round belly, a trace of proud color on his face. "It seems these old bones of mine are still fairly nimble!"
After that, using almost exactly the same method, they silently dealt with Alecto's brother, Amycus Carrow, who lived not far away.
When Snape and Professor Slughorn descended into the Entrance Hall and were about to head toward the massive oak doors of the Great Hall, they happened to see a well-dressed wizard with a dark expression storm angrily into the hall.
Immediately afterward, the sound of a fierce argument between him and Professor Sprout rang out from inside.
Snape's expression tightened. He hurried down the last flight of stairs, pushed open the half-closed door, and slipped into the Great Hall.
Hearing movement behind him, Abraxas Malfoy instinctively turned his head.
"I already said students should not be here at this hour-"
When his gaze landed on Snape, his face changed instantly, as if he had seen a ghost. His hand shot toward the wand inside his robes.
But Snape was far faster.
"Expelliarmus!"
Abraxas was blasted off his feet, his wand flying free and spinning through the air.
His body slammed heavily into the distant wall, then slid down like a sack of potatoes, collapsing motionless on the floor.
The Great Hall fell completely silent. Every student stared, dumbfounded, at the scene.
A few seconds later, a loud whistle sounded from the crowd, and someone shouted excitedly, "A familiar sight!"
That shout broke the silence, drawing a ripple of suppressed laughter and murmured whispers.
The corner of Snape's mouth tugged upward almost imperceptibly into a grin. He turned toward the students and gave a slightly theatrical bow.
Then he cleared his throat and magically amplified his voice to ensure everyone could hear clearly.
"Students, please remain calm. Professor Sprout has no doubt already informed you that next, a fierce battle will take place in and around Hogwarts Castle, a battle against Voldemort. This is not a game. It is extremely dangerous.
"She and Madam Pomfrey will be responsible for your evacuation. Please maintain order and follow their instructions without exception, proceeding in an orderly manner to the designated safe evacuation points."
With that, he nodded to Professor Sprout.
Many students still looked shaken, their faces full of worry. But as Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey began loudly organizing them, a tall student stood up from beside a long table and shouted,
"What if we want to stay and fight?"
His words earned cheers from some of the others.
Looking at those young faces burning with determination, Snape hesitated. Considering the thorough preparations they had made for this battle, he finally relented.
"If you are of age, you may choose to stay voluntarily. However," he stressed, "I still advise you to leave with the professors. We already have sufficient strength to deal with potential dangers. Your primary task is to ensure your own safety and avoid unnecessary-"
Suddenly, another voice rang out across the Great Hall, drowning out his words.
The voice was high, cold, and unmistakably clear. It was impossible to tell where it came from, as though the walls and the vaulted ceiling themselves were speaking.
"I know you are preparing to resist."
Screams erupted among the students. Some clutched one another in terror, looking around frantically for the source of the voice.
"Your efforts are futile. You are no match for me.
"I have no interest in killing you. I bear no malice toward the teachers and students of Hogwarts. I do not wish wizard blood to be spilled."
The Great Hall was utterly silent. The silence pressed down on everyone's nerves, so immense it seemed the hall itself could barely contain it.
"Return what you should not have taken," Voldemort's voice sounded again. "And no one will be harmed.
"Hand over the rebels, and I will leave the school intact.
"Bring the ship before me, and you will be rewarded.
"You have one hour."
The silence swallowed them all once more.
Heads turned in unison. Hundreds of gazes, filled with fear or confusion, fixed on Snape and the others.
Several students dressed noticeably more finely than their peers had flickering looks in their eyes, their hands quietly moving beneath their robes.
Before Snape could speak, the students had already acted.
The students in front of him stood up, not facing Snape, but all turning toward those few restless students.
Snape saw wands being drawn from every direction, from beneath cloaks and from inside sleeves.
"Bulstrode! You are not welcome here. Get out!"
"And you, Shafiq! Want to try something?"
Hearing these voices, Snape felt a rush of mixed emotions. Yet seeing the students wearing uniform robes marked with the Slytherin crest, he also felt a strange, absurd sense of pleasure.
Thus, this time, in the most literal sense, those standing up in front of him were all Slytherin students. Although this was the result of Voldemort's House policy, among them were also many who had originally belonged to Slytherin.
"Mr. Bulstrode," Snape raised his voice, "do not make any unnecessary movements. You and your friends are to follow Professor Sprout and leave the Great Hall immediately."
Benches scraped and knocked together noisily.
Bulstrode and Shafiq exchanged glances with livid faces. Under the hostile stares of their classmates, they finally chose silence, rose with their heads lowered, and slunk toward the exit.
The vast majority of students, however, chose to remain in their seats.
Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey had no choice but to move among them, forcibly ushering out those who were underage.
"Absolutely not, Timo, get moving! And you as well, all of you who are underage must leave, Lucan, Florence..."
The long tables gradually emptied. Most of the younger students and some of the older ones, urged by the staff, reluctantly headed toward the side doors.
Seeing the evacuation proceed smoothly, Snape prepared to leave the Great Hall to check on the readiness of the squads he had deployed earlier.
Just as he turned toward the doors, Professor McGonagall hurried in from outside, her face grave.
"Professor McGonagall!" the remaining students cried out in delight.
McGonagall nodded to them, then went straight to Snape and said quietly, "Severus, all squads are in position according to your plan. The Forbidden Forest, the Black Lake, the Astronomy Tower, the main gate, the station..."
"But," she glanced at Snape, her brow deeply furrowed and unease on her face, "although your arrangements are very thorough and consider all aspects, I cannot shake the feeling that something is missing, something crucial."
"What is it, Professor?" Snape's heart tightened as he asked quickly. He feared he had overlooked something vital. "Is there a problem with the deployment, or have you detected new enemy movements?"
McGonagall shook her head, the worry still present. "I do not know. It is just a feeling, an intuition. Never mind. Perhaps I am overthinking it. Let us go outside first."
Snape, Professor Slughorn, and several other core members who had stayed behind followed her out of the Great Hall, through the Entrance Hall, down the stone steps, and onto the open ground outside the castle.
Professor McGonagall turned back and gazed at Hogwarts Castle, which she had devoted most of her life to, standing solemn and majestic in the morning light.
Her eyes swept over the tall towers, solid walls, and ancient windows.
Suddenly, as if struck by lightning, her eyes lit up. Her face broke into an expression of sudden realization and immense delight.
"I know it!" she said. "I know why it felt wrong. We forgot Hogwarts itself!"
She raised her wand high, spread her arms, and in a clear, powerful voice, loudly intoned the ancient spell that had been activated only rarely in a thousand years of the school's history:
"Piertotum Locomotor!"