Hogwarts Castle.
In the Great Hall, the enchanted ceiling was dark and hazy, dotted with faint stars.
Below it, students sat at the four long tables, disheveled and wild-haired.
Some were huddled in corners beneath their house cloaks, trembling. Others were still in their pajamas, looking completely lost.
Milky-white figures drifted above the Great Hall, murmuring among themselves.
They were the ghosts of Hogwarts.
Even Peeves, who was among them, was behaving with rare restraint, showing none of his usual lively... irritating manner.
Even the Grey Lady, who usually stayed in her Astronomy Tower, and the Bloody Baron, who almost never appeared before people, had unexpectedly shown up here.
Though the way the Bloody Baron looked at the Grey Lady was certainly hard not to notice.
It could be said that, aside from Draco and his group, nearly everyone in Hogwarts Castle had gathered in the Great Hall, the dining hall originally used for the Sorting Ceremony.
Whether sitting or standing, dead or alive, every pair of eyes was fixed on Professor McGonagall at the front.
At that moment, Professor McGonagall stood on the raised platform in the Great Hall, head lowered and face stern as she addressed everyone.
Behind her stood the professors who had remained, including Firenze, the silver-maned centaur.
Apart from them, what drew curiosity were the mysterious wizards who had appeared from who knew where, all wearing hooded robes that hid their faces completely.
A few of those figures felt strangely familiar.
Especially the hulking figure who was nearly a full head taller than an adult wizard. He had practically exposed the true identities of this group by standing there.
But compared with who these wizards were, everyone was far more concerned with what Professor McGonagall was about to say.
Standing on the platform, Professor McGonagall shouted sternly, "Filch and Professor Sprout will oversee the evacuation. Prefects of each year, once you hear my command, organize the students of your House immediately and escort them to the evacuation points in an orderly manner!"
The moment she finished speaking, the Great Hall, which had still been somewhat noisy a moment earlier, fell utterly silent.
The students looked at Professor McGonagall as if they had just seen Dumbledore rise from the dead.
What exactly was Professor McGonagall talking about?
And besides, where did they still have Prefects? Hadn't Draco taken almost all of them away?
In truth, because of Penelope, the former Head Girl, Draco had not needed to expend much effort to persuade the Prefects from each year to join them.
Part of it was because Penelope herself served as something of a banner, but it was also because no wizard capable of becoming a Prefect was simple-minded.
In other words, they could naturally see the crisis that was about to arrive.
So of course, joining Draco's Draco Constellation had simply followed as a matter of course.
In any case, after digesting what Professor McGonagall had just said, the young wizards who had been wondering why they had been gathered here in the middle of the night finally began to understand, vaguely, that the situation seemed rather bad.
After all, on their way here, they had heard what sounded like explosions.
...
Many students looked completely stunned.
After all, the people Draco had taken away were either the best of their year, or they possessed insight and judgment far beyond their peers.
At the very least, they had some kind of shining point.
In other words, these were the ones Draco had left behind.
Most of the young wizards gathered here could only be described as ordinary.
So when Minerva McGonagall saw the students below frozen in fear and looking utterly helpless, she honestly felt a little disappointed.
She had thought at least one wizard might step forward bravely and say something, but unfortunately, no such person appeared.
Should she admire Draco's eye for talent, which left no capable person behind?
Or should she be angry that Draco had not left even one for her?
Faced with such a result, Minerva McGonagall felt both proud to have a student like Draco and that his actions showed a lack of trust in them, the professors.
But Minerva McGonagall seemed to have underestimated the young wizards below.
Just as she was about to remind them of a few things, a young Ravenclaw witch raised her hand. "Professor, what about our things?"
"...Things?"
"Our luggage and our owls."
"..."
At a time this urgent, she was actually still bringing up such useless things.
Were those so-called belongings really more important than their lives?
Though rendered speechless, Minerva McGonagall still patiently explained, "There's no time to pack. The most important thing is getting all of you safely out of here."
"What about Professor Snape?"
Perhaps because someone had already been the first to speak up, others began asking their own questions as well.
The one who asked this question was a Slytherin witch.
"It is Headmaster Snape. As for him... your Headmaster has more important matters to handle."
After leaving them with that sentence, Professor McGonagall paid no further attention to the disorderly young wizards below and handed them over to the few remaining Prefects, Filch, and the others.
...
As Minerva McGonagall turned around, she walked straight toward the professors behind her.
Now that the arrangements for the young wizards had been made, it was time for them to fulfill their duties as Hogwarts professors.
She swept her gaze over the professors before her. "We have already laid defenses around the castle, but they cannot hold for long unless we continue reinforcing them. Therefore, all of you must act quickly and calmly..."
If Fenrir Greyback, the Werewolf leader, had been here, he would have understood exactly who had created the magical barrier that blocked their attack.
It was the work of the Hogwarts Deputy Headmistress.
But Professor McGonagall's words also made it clear that if they wanted to maintain such defenses for any length of time, they would have to keep reinforcing them.
And at that moment, one of the wizards standing before Minerva McGonagall suddenly removed his hood, directly revealing his identity.
"I'm sorry, Minerva. I may have something more important to do."
"Listen, Lupin, Dumbledore certainly would not want to see Hogwarts..."
"No. In fact, finding Harry and protecting him was the task Dumbledore gave us before his death, not saving Hogwarts."
"..."
So the one who had appeared here was Remus Lupin of the Order of the Phoenix.
As for the others, their identities were not difficult to guess. The huge figure nearby who could not hide his build at all was surely none other than Mr. Hagrid.
Sure enough, Hagrid stepped forward the next second. "Minerva, you know Professor Dumbledore doesn't make mistakes."
"I understand, Hagrid... but that is not a reason to abandon Hogwarts. At the very least, we must make sure the students below survive and get out safely."
Hearing this, Hagrid could no longer find the words to persuade her.
Harry was indeed crucial to Dumbledore's plan, and his relationship with them was far closer than theirs with the students below. But if accomplishing all this required abandoning those students, then this kind-hearted half-giant simply could not say it.
In truth, none of the Order of the Phoenix members, Lupin included, were dark wizards like the Death Eaters.
But Dumbledore's plan was simply too important, and peace in the wizarding world mattered above all else. On top of that, they had already lost so many comrades.
All of this caused the scales in their hearts to tilt further and further.
With his Werewolf nature, and with the urgency of the moment pressing down on him, Lupin hardened his heart and made the decision for everyone without hesitation. "We don't have time to discuss this slowly. In that case, we'll split up. Everyone from the Order of the Phoenix will find Harry, and you, Minerva..."
Just then, everyone suddenly seemed to sense something, and all of them turned their eyes toward the entrance of the Great Hall.
An unfamiliar sound came through.
The voice was high, cold, and yet strangely clear.
It was impossible to tell where it came from. It seemed to seep out of the walls themselves.
And like the Basilisk that had once rampaged through Hogwarts, the voice seemed as though it had been sleeping there for centuries.
"I know you are preparing to resist."
That slick, cloying voice made the students below scream.
Some clung to one another, some looked around in terror, and others tried to find where the voice was coming from.
But the owner of the voice did not care what they did and continued speaking. "Your efforts are useless. You are no match for me. I do not wish to kill you. I have great respect for the professors of Hogwarts, and I do not wish to spill wizard blood..."
The Great Hall fell silent, the silence pressing against everyone's eardrums.
It was so vast that it almost made them wonder whether they had lost their hearing.
The next second, the voice rang out again.
"Hand over Harry Potter!"
Everyone's eyes widened in shock.
Because they seemed to understand exactly who that voice belonged to.
Who else would be so interested in Harry Potter?
Only... Voldemort.
He had arrived!