"An army of Muggles at Hogwarts's gates!" Alecto Carrow said incredulously as she stood alongside Professor McGonagall on the Bell Tower's porch. "Even you must admit this is unacceptable, McGonagall! This is the Dark Ages all over again!"
"You have done more harm to the Muggles in six months of occupation than they have ever done to us in the history of, well, history," Professor McGonagall replied scathingly. "I daresay they have a right to be angry at us."
Thankfully, the Dark Lord had successfully managed to decapitate the British Isles' leadership before they unleashed Armageddon upon themselves, but other parts of the world had not been so lucky.
Radioactive fallout warped the laws of magic, much as magic interfered with delicate electronics. Entire cities had been reduced to rubble by the Muggles' nuclear weapons, firmly establishing wide swathes of the United States and Russia as zones where science triumphed over mystery; dead zones where magic refused to work, at the cost of its inhabitants' health…
And in France, where Wizardkind had joined hands with Muggles, there came with troubling regularity reports from the Dark Lord's spies of an invincible superweapon being constructed, codenamed 'Espadon.'Project: Swordfish, as it were; because of these reports, there was even talk within the Dark Lord's inner circle of performing a Fidelius Charm on an unprecedented scale, of hiding the entirety of the British Isles from the face of the earth, much as the Japanese had done to their own country…
"We should have exterminated the Muggles when we had the chance," Alecto screeched, her piglike eyes narrowing as she examined the crowd gathered at the gate outside. "Well, we won't make the same mistake here, won't we? We need to awaken Hogwarts's defensive enchantments, slaughter them all to the very last…"
Alecto's voice trailed off.
"Someone's using the Dark Lord's name," she said abruptly, looking over her shoulder at the Grand Staircase in the distance, whose roof had since been repaired. She winced as the Dark Mark branded on her arm burned. "Oleandra Greengrass is here!" she hissed. "The Headmaster's office!"
Professor McGonagall's pupils shrank.
The Greengrass family splitting apart was none of her concern, and she had even felt rather pleased when she had heard of Oleandra's falling out with the Dark Lady, but she had since heard conflicting rumours from her own students…
"With me, McGonagall," Alecto said, a look of greed creeping onto her piggish face as she imagined herself handing over Oleandra to the Dark Lord. "Help me take her down, and I'll release all the Gryffindors I've got taking up space in the dungeons."
It was then that the castle grounds' wrought iron gates swung open with a loud, metallic whine.
"Are you certain you would not rather deal with them first?" said Professor McGonagall, tilting her head towards the crowd pouring in through the gates. Judging by the magical fireworks shooting into the sky, quite a number of Witches and Wizards had joined them. "Should not keeping the students safe be our first priority?"
Alecto's face paled.
"H-how is this possible?" she spluttered. "Only a teacher should be capable of opening the gates!"
"But I am one!"
A shadow swept over the two Witches, and a man dressed in padded duelling robes dropped from the sky before them, bowing low.
"Gilderoy Lockhart, Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, at your service, my dear ladies," he said, smiling as he raised his head. "I have taken the liberty of admitting those poor people."
Professor McGonagall gaped at him in disbelief. Those gaudy robes, that self-assured bluster…
"But you should be dead!" she said gasped.
"Cruci—"
"Expelliarmus!"
Professor McGonagall's pupils dilated in disbelief as Professor Lockhart drew his wand in a flash and Disarmed Alecto, sending her wand clattering down the stone steps and into the grass. She quickly waved her own wand and bound Alecto from head to foot in a net of silvery chains.
"I'm afraid reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated," said Professor Lockhart with false modesty. "You may read all about it in my forthcoming book, when it is published."
This gave Professor McGonagall pause. Surely no one but Lockhart could be quite so impossibly irritating, and besides, he had opened the gate… seeing as everyone believed him dead five years ago, it was probable that no one had thought, or bothered, to remove his administrative privileges over the castle…
"It's true, Professor! It's really him!"
Professor McGonagall's mouth formed a small "o" as she saw a few familiar faces at the head of the crowd running towards her. It was nothing but one surprise after another tonight, was it not?
"Potter? Granger? Weasley? Black!?" she said in shock. "Longbottom, Lovegood, Greengrass!?"
"Here, Professor," said Harry, shoving a crystal phial filled with roiling darkness into Lockhart's hands. "This is what you needed, didn't you?"
"Excellent, Harry, my boy!" Professor Lockhart said, laughing uproariously. "I always knew you'd go places!"
To Harry's surprise, Lockhart simply unstoppered the phial, allowing the darkness within to slip free. It flitted to and fro before darting into the castle through the Bell Tower entrance, as though it knew precisely where it wished to go.
"What's it doing?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It'll return to its rightful owner," Professor Lockhart replied. "Now, we only need to defeat Daphne Greengrass, Lord Voldemort, and Ginevra Weasley… in that order."
The crowd of Muggles and Muggle-Born refugees from the sanctuary swarmed into the castle, with the teachers, the members of the Order of the Phoenix, and Harry's group in the lead. Along the way to the Great Hall, they made short work of a drowsy Amycus Carrow, and their numbers swelled as older students and other teachers joined the march.
"What in the world is going on here?" said Professor Slughorn breathlessly, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief as he waddled down the Grand Staircase just in time to intercept them. "Who are all these people? They are too old to be students, surely!"
"Ah, excellent, just the man I wished to see," said Professor McGonagall with a sniff, averting her eyes from his exposed skin; Professor Slughorn's extra-large pyjamas could barely contain his bulk. "I shall expect you and your Slytherins in the Great Hall within twenty minutes; if you wish to leave with your students, we shall not stop you, but know this: if any of you attempt to sabotage our resistance, or take up arms against us within this castle, then, Horace, we duel to the death."
"Minerva!" Professor Slughorn exclaimed, aghast.
"The time has come for Slytherin House to decide upon its loyalties," interjected Professor McGonagall. "Off you go, Horace. Wake your students… and should you find Daphne Greengrass sleeping in her bed…"
Professor Slughorn blanched.
"You're not saying I should…"
Without further ado, Professors Flitwick and McGonagall turned back the way they had come to rouse Hogwarts's defences, while the rest of the professors either went to lead the refugees into the Great Hall or to hunt for Snape, who was off patrolling the corridors… to ask him of his true allegiances, naturally.