Hogwarts was besieged, surrounded by layer upon layer of elves.
Their attacks were chaotic and uncoordinated. While many were firing beams of magic at the castle's wards, even more were simply throwing rocks.
Unable to break through, some elves jumped up and down in frustration, screaming. Others banged whatever they were holding against the ground in a rhythmic, menacing beat.
Their weapons were crude—mostly primitive wooden clubs or jagged stones.
Looking at the ragged, desperate swarm covering the hills, it seemed these creatures were on the brink of starvation. If they weren't, they wouldn't be fighting with such primitive tools.
The cacophony of screeching voices and magical impacts was maddening. The sheer volume of noise felt like it was physically lifting the castle off its foundations.
Somewhere inside, Peeves the Poltergeist—the spirit of chaos who was intrinsically tied to the castle—must be hiding in a corner with his hands over his ears.
Hogwarts was his body. Even with the protective wards, being hammered like this couldn't feel good.
These elves had been summoned by the Church from another dimension.
This was almost certain. The magical world had existed for a long time, and while beautiful, tall elves were known to exist in folklore, these short, ugly creatures had never been seen before.
Their numbers were increasing constantly, making it difficult to pinpoint the location of the summoning circles. Except for the Black Lake, the circles could be in any of the other three directions.
The possibility of a summoning circle being underwater was slim to none; stabilizing such complex magic in moving water was exponentially difficult.
The Church's strategy was simple: victory through numbers. Attrition warfare.
No matter how strong the Founders' wards were, every impact drained a tiny bit of their power.
With tens of thousands of attacks hitting every second, the drain was constant. Even the strongest shield would eventually fail. The wards wouldn't last until dawn—perhaps not even until midnight.
And when they broke, the swarm of chaotic, magic-wielding elves would flood the castle. It would be a massacre.
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Reconnaissance Mission? Is there even a point?
One look from the Astronomy Tower told you everything you needed to know.
To break the siege, they had to destroy the summoning circles. Otherwise, who knew how many more elves would pour in?
So, this so-called "reconnaissance squad" was, in reality, a strike team.
The mission required stealth, which meant a small team. Too many people would attract attention; too few would be like throwing a pebble into an ocean—swallowed without a trace.
Five people seemed like a reasonable number for a strike team.
But among the five, Rey only trusted one person.
He trusted Helena implicitly. As for Terence Barrow and the scruffy, thin wizard, their motives were clearly malicious.
And then there was the middle-aged wizard, Andre Rosier.
Rey trusted him least of all. His danger level felt even higher than Terence's.
He was the picture of a pure-blood aristocrat: poised, unreadable, and completely calm in the face of a siege.
If this were a casual trip or a simple task, his calmness would be understandable.
But this was a suicide mission. To join with such serene indifference felt wrong. There was no sense of heroic sacrifice, no hesitation.
Unless this mission is nothing to him.
Rey kept his face neutral as he scanned the group, then began briefing them on the plan.
He was mentally older than he looked. Even though he knew he had walked into Terence's trap, he wasn't going to throw a tantrum and refuse to go.
He had to go. Defending Hogwarts was his duty, too.
This siege of elves had never happened in the original history of Hogwarts. Perhaps his presence here—the butterfly effect—had caused this reality.
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Transfiguration is a staple of magical education.
Some can turn into armchairs; others can turn into animals. To sneak out and find the summoning circles, the best disguise was to become an elf.
Human Transfiguration and becoming an Animagus achieve similar results, but they are fundamentally different.
An Animagus transformation consumes no magic to maintain and is limited to one specific animal form. Transfiguration, however, constantly drains magical stamina to sustain the change.
Given the urgency, there was no time to brew Polyjuice Potion. Human Transfiguration was their best and only option.
Madam Hooch opened a small gap in the ward at a section where the elves were relatively sparse. Like water flowing through a crack, several elves immediately rushed in without needing to be lured.
They captured the elves alive so the team could study their appearance.
Wizards generally possess stronger mental focus and memory than Muggles. A short period of observation was enough for them to mimic the creatures with 70-80% accuracy.
In a swarm of fifty thousand, 80% accuracy was more than enough to blend in.
Elves are inherently ugly creatures.
But even transformed, Helena managed to avoid looking repulsive. Her innate grace carried over, making her distinct enough that Rey could spot her instantly.
Once they were ready, Madam Hooch approached the ward again.
She waved her wand, and a massive, concentrated dragon of fire roared out of the opening.
The flames incinerated everything in their path. Even the rocks on the ground melted into slag.
The sheer power of the fire magic made everyone stare. Except for Rey, everyone was stunned. The wizards who had previously opposed Madam Hooch looked at her with newfound fear.
Madam Hooch was a Black Dragon. Fire magic was as natural to her as breathing.
The devastating spell was an eye-opener. Even Terence Barrow and his thin accomplice exchanged looks of disbelief.
This "opening the gate and blasting fire" tactic was repeated at several locations around the castle to confuse the enemy.
With a patch of ground cleared, the five team members cast Disillusionment Charms on themselves and slipped out one by one.
"Wait!"
Just as Rey was about to step out last, Madam Hooch called him back. She handed him a crystal vial filled with a strange liquid.
Inside, black and red fluids swirled together but miraculously refused to mix.
Rey looked at her in surprise, unsure of what this meant.
"If you have no other choice... drink it," Madam Hooch said simply.
She offered no further explanation. Her expression was so flat she clearly couldn't be bothered to elaborate.
"Alright. Thank you."
Rey didn't ask questions. He pocketed the potion and stepped out of the ward.
Helena and the others were waiting for him outside. Though curious, no one asked what he had been given.
Once all five were out, the ward sealed shut behind them. Almost immediately, the tide of elves surged back in, covering the ground that had just been cleared by the fire.
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