June 24, Cloudy

Cedric strained to hear what Voldemort was saying, but all he could make out were Peter Pettigrew's agonized screams. "Where is Dumbledore?" Cedric thought, growing increasingly anxious. Just as he was about to make a move, something in his pocket began to heat up. It was the two-way mirror. He pulled it out and saw Dumbledore's face staring back at him, shaking his head with a stern expression. Cedric understood—the time wasn't right yet.

Around Voldemort, shadowy figures began to emerge. Some were excited, others calm, and a few trembled with fear, but all of them bowed their heads in reverence to their master. The crowd grew larger, and Cedric realized the true scale of Voldemort's influence. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed so many Death Eaters existed.

"Good, many have come, but some are still missing," Voldemort said, his voice cold and calculating. He used his wand to lift the hoods of several Death Eaters, his expression one of mild displeasure. "Some have died for our cause, while others have betrayed me. Did you think I would never return? Did you doubt me?"

"No, Master! We were preserving our strength, waiting for your return!" one Death Eater cried out.

"We've always believed in you, my Lord!" another added.

Voldemort raised a hand, silencing them. "I am not angry. Those who are here today are loyal, and that is what matters. As for the traitors… they will not escape my wrath. Loyalty is rewarded, Wormtail."

Peter Pettigrew, clutching his severed arm, crawled forward. With a flick of his wand, Voldemort conjured a silver prosthetic arm for him. Peter nearly collapsed in gratitude.

"And you, my dear Delton," Voldemort said, beckoning to a figure in the shadows. Shafiq stepped forward, removing his hood. Voldemort took his hand and addressed the crowd. "His mother gave me her final loyalty in death, and this brave boy has taken her place as a Death Eater. His father has gifted me Shafiq Manor. The Shafiqs are among my most loyal followers. Go, my boy, and retrieve the treasure I entrusted to you."

Shafiq bowed and retreated behind Peter, his expression unreadable. His eyes flickered to Harry Potter, who stood bound behind Voldemort. Shafiq envied Harry's defiant glare and unbroken spirit. His own arm, though no longer bleeding, bore an ugly scar—a mark of his servitude.

"It seems no one else will join us," Voldemort said, his wand twirling in his hand. "But do not worry. Our numbers are far greater than this. Tonight, another place will be far more lively than here."

"Where?" Shafiq whispered to Peter.

Peter smirked. "A place with an audience."

---

Cedric and Harry were gone. The crowd in the stands murmured in confusion, assuming it was part of the Triwizard Tournament's final task. Laughter and speculation filled the air until the professors rushed from the maze to the stadium, ordering everyone to return to the castle immediately.

"What's going on? We have a right to know!" the students protested, Gryffindors leading the charge. Joey and Fred were among the most vocal.

"Back to the castle! Now!" Professor McGonagall's voice boomed through a Sonorus charm. She was losing her hat in the chaos, her voice sharp and commanding. "Prefects, escort your houses!"

The prefects reluctantly herded the students toward the castle, though some, like Joey and Fred, tried to slip away. McGonagall caught them by the ears. "Six years! Can't you two behave for one day?"

"We're safer in the castle!" Joey argued.

"It's safer "inside" than out here, you foolish girl!" McGonagall snapped.

Suddenly, Professor Flitwick's voice echoed from the castle. "Minerva, get the children out! Now!" Ravenclaw students, led by their prefects, were already descending the stairs, wands drawn.

"Danger upstairs! Seventh-years, use "Colloportus" on the stairs with me!" Ryan's voice rang out. "Colloportus!"

The enchanted stairs were sealed, allowing the younger students to descend safely. Gryffindors quickly followed suit, casting the spell to secure the lower stairs.

McGonagall released Joey and Fred. "Get out! Now!"

The two didn't argue this time. They joined the stream of students evacuating the castle, their eyes fixed on the flashes of spelllight coming from the upper floors.

"It's on the eighth floor!" Joey said, her voice tense. She wanted to run back and help, but the flow of students carried her away.

"What's happening?" Fred asked, grabbing a Ravenclaw student.

"Death Eaters are in the castle," the student replied breathlessly. "Ryan told us to evacuate."

"Death Eaters?" Joey and Fred echoed in unison. Their eyes met, a mix of excitement and fear in their expressions.

"Is this the final battle you mentioned before?" Fred asked.

"It can't be!" Joey said, though she wasn't sure. Her memories of the future were hazy, but she remembered Harry facing Voldemort in his seventh year, not now.

George and Flami pushed through the crowd. "Professor Snape told all Slytherins to evacuate," Flami said. "Someone brought Death Eaters to the eighth floor!"

"The eighth floor? Is there a secret passage there?" Joey asked.

Fred shook his head. "The Room of Requirement. It's the only place on the eighth floor the professors don't control."

"It's Professor Moody! He's a Death Eater!" a Ravenclaw student shouted.

"No way!" Fred and George shouted back. "Moody's not a Death Eater!"

"I saw him fighting Professor Flitwick!" the student insisted.

Fred's face turned red with anger. "There's no way Moody's a traitor!"

The Durmstrang students huddled together, speaking rapidly in German. Flami listened for a moment. "Their headmaster, Karkaroff, ran away. He left Krum behind."

"Karkaroff's a Death Eater?" Joey asked.

Flami nodded. "He had the Dark Mark on his arm."

"If Moody's not a Death Eater, who brought them here?" Joey wondered aloud.

Before anyone could answer, the adult wizards gathered at the castle gates. Luther, Joey's father, was among them. "Dad!" Joey shouted, but he didn't hear her. She turned to Fred. "Something's wrong. Dad was supposed to be in America today. And where's Ryan?"

"He stayed behind to fight," Luna said softly. "He's with Professor Flitwick."

Joey's heart sank. She tried to push through the prefects blocking the entrance, but they held firm. "Underage wizards aren't allowed inside," a Ravenclaw prefect said gently. "Ryan's an adult. He can handle himself."

The sounds of battle grew louder. Spells exploded inside the castle, and Professor McGonagall and Tonks appeared at the door. "Prefects, take the students to the Shrieking Shack! George, you know the way. Tonks, Ryan, get them to safety!"

McGonagall's face was streaked with blood, her hair disheveled, but her eyes burned with determination. The students fell silent, awed by her presence.

"We want to fight too!" a Gryffindor seventh-year shouted.

"This is our castle!" others joined in.

McGonagall considered for a moment, then smiled. "Very well. Sixth and seventh-years who wish to stay, stand here. Everyone else, evacuate with Tonks!"

Joey and Fred joined the group of students who chose to stay. Flami stood with the Slytherins, her expression resolute. George hesitated, torn between leading the younger students and staying to fight.

Ryan appeared, touching Joey's head and kissing Angelina's forehead. "Stay safe," he said before rushing back inside.

McGonagall raised her wand. "Piertotum Locomotor! Hogwarts is under threat. Defend our school!"

The statues and suits of armor lining the castle sprang to life, marching into battle. The students watched in awe as the castle itself seemed to rise in defense.

McGonagall smirked. "I've always wanted to try that spell."

The battle for Hogwarts had begun.