"Harry—Po~tter…"
As usual, Snape's voice stretched out the last syllables, murmuring the name with disbelief and a certain… relief.
It seemed he still had a reason to keep going—
Harry, riding the Firebolt, dove downward like a meteor, his incredible Disarming Spell precisely knocking away the axe about to strike Snape—because he was standing high enough, he had seen the situation from the start, and upon witnessing Snape in danger, genuine kindness crushed the prejudice he had held for years, and he unhesitatingly summoned his broomstick and flew down.
Then, more spells shot out from his magic wand—
Stunning Spell, Expelliarmus, Impediment Jinx, the goblins surrounding Snape were thrown off balance. Just as Snape was shocked by Harry's newfound prowess, the Firebolt in the sky abruptly halted at low altitude, with Harry extending his hand, "Get on!"
Snape wasn't wallowing in self-pity—
Under the gaze of those green eyes, he simply couldn't maintain his stubbornness and pride. The man grasped Harry's extended hand and, using the momentum, flipped onto the broomstick. The Firebolt ascended without hesitation, avoiding several crossbow arrows and scarlet magical beams from below.
"Hold on tight!"
Harry shouted, maneuvering the Firebolt in a daring evasive action above the courtyard, dodging an airborne creature lunging at them.
Then he turned back, a point of his magic wand reduced it to dust.
"How did you…"
Snape instinctively tightened his grip on Harry's robes. He didn't like the feeling of flying, but he sensed the boy who once needed protection seemed to have grown capable of standing on his own. His sturdy arms and steady decisiveness in controlling the broomstick didn't resemble a 15-year-old fifth-year student.
The wind roared by, the chaotic battlefield below was a swirl of spell lights and black-red fog, shouts, roars, and explosions mingling into chaos.
Snape wanted to ask, how the hell are you here, isn't your task to stay at the tower and keep lookout? But he swallowed the words, realizing the foolishness of the question. Clearly, Gryffindors never knew what it meant to "stay in a safe place."
"When the moon appeared, Professor Lupin shouted and jumped down, Ron and Malfoy are still up there—"
Harry shouted over the chaos as he maneuvered the broomstick through the air amidst flying magic attacks and crossbow bolts, almost as if he could read Snape's mind. "But, I just saw you being surrounded, so if you're okay, could you lend a hand—"
His words were cut off by a deafening dragon roar.
The two looked up to see Norbert and a skeletal dragon locked in combat, intensified to a fierce state.
At this moment, Norbert had a wound on its side, almost exposing flesh, dragon blood raining down, yet its eyes still burned with fierce battle intent.
Of course, its opponent wasn't looking too good either, the skeletal dragon seemed more spectral, its once solid frame now resembling a magical projection, the black flames in its eye sockets reduced to two lifeless glass beads, anxiously watching the roaring Fire Dragon.
"Damn you if you keep playing dead—"
Lanlock shouted miserably towards the ground. Never expecting this Fire Dragon to be so savage, "You'll end up with nothing."
This venomous cry was clearly not self-talk.
Because as his words ended, a shadow cloaked in a black robe appeared at the battlefield's edge, none other than Victor Rookwood. Compared to the previous scene where he was almost obliterated by dozens of large trucks, he seemed to have recovered greatly.
Black mist swirled around the man despite his face still being deathly pale, but those gray eyes were fixed on the wounded yet undeterred Fire Dragon circling in the air.
He heard Lanlock's "call," the threatening tone making him frown, but after a brief hesitation, his withered hand swung backward sharply, and a hoarse, almost inhuman, screech emerged from his mouth.
In the next moment, the remnants of the Fire Ash Snake Faction scattered across the battlefield, fighting against the Werewolf Corps and Rune Stone Statues, suddenly stopped, as if zombies smelling fresh meat, enduring the attacks, converging like marionettes towards Victor's position.
They were nearly a hundred in number, each exuding a bizarre aura, eyes glowing red. Under Victor's command, they swiftly formed a formation, wands uniformly aiming at the Fire Dragon in the sky.
Then, a synchronized rasping chant began, and a wave of chilling, filthy magic power started to converge above the Fire Dragon's head, forming a surging dark red cloud, electric sparks flickering within, exuding an ominous aura.
Lanlock observed this, and the skeletal dragon's body let out a roar, the "glass beads" in its eye sockets lighting up with a final glimmer, once again lunging at Norbert, this time opting for close combat. Dark red breath spewed from its mouth without pause, forcing Norbert to be distracted, creating an opportunity for the wizard team's attack.
"Roar—"
Norbert sensed immense danger.
The wound on its side was still searing with pain, draining its stamina. The quicksilver shield of golden red flashed repeatedly, blocking the skeletal dragon's strikes and breath, but its best close-quarter biting and invincible Dragon Flame seemed inadequate against an "undying" ghost dragon and the equally "undying" wizard team on the ground.
It continued to attempt a dive, trying to clear away those annoying wizards with its dragon breath, but Lanlock always managed to intercept in time, even using his body to block Norbert's breath, and as time passed, the dark red cloud above grew thicker, with a low rumble like thunder emanating from within—
Then, the next moment, a scarlet lightning bolt struck from the cloud, hitting Norbert's wings, making the Fire Dragon shriek in pain and retreat.
But Lanlock relentlessly pursued, refusing to give up.
In their combined assault, Norbert was slowly forced back, the battle trajectory gradually shifting towards the Black Lake.
"Splash—"
Massive waves erupted as Norbert, avoiding a scarlet lightning bolt from the cloud, had to land in the Black Lake, the icy waters instantly submerging most of its body, worsening the pain from the wound on its abdomen.
The giant squid seemingly recognized this dragon often seen with that fiery man. Feeling the malice in the attacks, it stealthily surfaced, several robust tentacles emerging like giant pythons, fiercely smacking at the wizards maintaining the weather magic on the shore.
If this hit lands, it could flatten those wizards in close proximity like a pancake.
However, Victor's eyes flashed with a gray light, not even turning back, as several black-robed wizards beside him turned instead, their wands aimed at the attacking tentacles, releasing several black as ink Diffindo spells, edges gleaming with scarlet light—