Hogwarts: I am Snape

Chapter 154 The Missing Auror

After leaving his seat, Snape walked a few steps to Professor McGonagall's side, leaned down slightly, and whispered a few words to her.

“I agree, Severus.” Professor McGonagall nodded seriously, her furrowed brows relaxing slightly. “It’s more appropriate for you to do this. They need to hear your voice as a fellow student more than we old folks do.”

“Furthermore, Professor McGonagall,” Snape then lowered his voice even further, “how exactly did the Death Eaters find the Founder’s Ark?”

“It’s most likely Stodgi,” Professor McGonagall said. “He sent our location to the outside world after being hit by the Imperius Curse.”

"Then, could it be related to the trail threads?" Snape continued, "Could the trail threads on the underage students on the ship be...?"

“Absolutely not, Severus.” Professor McGonagall shook her head immediately, her tone resolute. “After the Act of Reasonable Restraint of Underage Wizards was passed in 1875, Professor Euprasia Moore, the then-principal—Phineas Black’s predecessor—foresaw the potential risks.”

"She gathered a group of top wizards at the time and secretly added an extremely powerful isolation spell to the core protection of the 'Founder's Ship', specifically targeting the detection of traces."

“Moreover,” she glanced at Snape, her eyes filled with the pride of an old Hogwarts professor, “before we officially set sail, Felius and I specifically retested these spells, and they still function perfectly.”

“Of course, Professor Moore believes these measures should not be publicized.” Professor McGonagall rarely joked, a smile playing on her lips. “None of these are recorded in ‘Hogwarts: A History of the School.’ If you prefer, you might call it ‘A Carefully Abridged History of Hogwarts,’ which would be more fitting.”

“I understand, Professor.” Snape nodded knowingly, couldn’t help but smile, and then turned and walked back to his seat.

Inside the restaurant, the house-elves had already begun carefully cleaning the exquisite plates that had hardly been touched.

As the clinking of cutlery gradually subsided, leaving only a low hum in the dining room, Snape slowly stood up again.

The silent movement itself was like a command, drawing everyone's attention to him. Apart from the adult wizards and a few non-member students, most of the young faces in the hall belonged to the "One Heart Society," and they, too, wanted to know what had happened at Hogwarts.

A heavy silence hung in the air. The brutal attack, the fierce battle, and the terror brought by Grindelwald's terrifying blue flames that consumed everything upon his return, along with the horrifying screams and ink stains from the destroyed diary, all weighed heavily on everyone's hearts, like the dark, unknown night sky outside the porthole.

Snape's gaze swept across the entire dining room, passing over the faces of his friends, and finally settling on the faces of all the Hogwarts survivors who were looking up at him.

On those faces, there was bewilderment, fear, exhaustion, and lingering shock.

“While the house-elves’ cooking is as reliable as ever,” Snape cleared his throat and said in a flat tone, “I think you’re not eating very well today.” He paused, his gaze meeting the faces below with a frank expression. “Your poor appetite isn’t because the food is unpalatable; after all, we’ve been through too much these past few days.”

Dozens of eyes were fixed on him without blinking.

“Tonight,” Snape continued, “I don’t intend to preach any empty rhetoric or paint a picture of future hope. I’m here to share some key information that we know.”

“Many of you have probably already guessed that something drastic has happened at Hogwarts.” He raised his voice slightly. “Our departure from the castle this time, soaring through the skies aboard the ‘Founder’s Ship,’ is not some special trip arranged for Muggle-born students, nor is it an easy study tour.” He took a deep breath and calmly revealed the cruel truth: “This is an escape.”

A murmur and gasps rose from the crowd, barely suppressed. Even though they had suspected it beforehand, being officially confirmed still made their hearts sink.

“We chose to leave,” Snape said, “not because fear destroyed our courage. On the contrary, it was because staying would only lead to meaningless and worthless sacrifices, and it was to protect everyone.”

He looked around at the crowd and saw some of the drooping heads lift up again, their eyes gleaming.

“In particular, today’s unexpected events may have led you to guess another fact,” Snape’s tone turned somber, “a fact concerning Professor Dumbledore.”

Almost simultaneously, as soon as the words were spoken, the entire hall erupted in a cacophony of gasps from the students; several members of the Order of the Phoenix stood up in disarray; Mundungus gaped, shrinking back; and Hagrid let out a low, wounded whimper, clenching his massive fist and slamming it on the table with a loud thud.

Snape didn't stop him, but waited quietly. Only after the initial shock and commotion had subsided did he speak again.

“Professor Dumbledore has had a minor accident,” Snape raised his voice to quell the commotion before continuing, “but there’s no need to worry too much. He’s just injured and is recovering steadily.”

This news brought another complex emotion: the worry remained heavy, yet mixed with hope.

“So, you might be thinking,” Snape changed the subject, throwing out the most pointed question, “what should we do next? If the Death Eaters can find us once, they can find us a second time.”

"If next time, instead of a small group of enemies, it's... the mysterious figure himself coming in person, how will we defend ourselves?"

His gaze shifted to the figure beside him, who still seemed out of place and exuded a powerful sense of oppression.

“Fortunately,” Snape turned to the side, raised his arm, and pointed to the languid yet imposing man beside him, “we are not alone. Mr. Grimm, an old friend of Professor Dumbledore, has answered Professor Dumbledore’s request and is now with us.”

At Snape's prompting, Grindelwald merely raised his eyelids slightly as a greeting, ignoring the numerous awe-inspiring and curious gazes directed at him.

“Mr. Grindelwald possesses extraordinary magical power, and his strength is in no way inferior to Professor Dumbledore’s. I think,” Snape looked at Grindelwald, then turned back to everyone, “that ‘cleansing’ just now was enough for all of you to witness his power firsthand.”

A reverent silence fell over the restaurant.

“So with him here,” Snape said confidently, “there is no need for us to worry excessively about the direct threat from the Mystic. He will provide strong protection for Professor Dumbledore and for our safety.”

“But,” he paused, his voice becoming heavy and realistic, “I also have no intention of deceiving you with lies to make the journey ahead seem smooth sailing.”

"From this moment on, our journey will be devoid of comfort. It will inevitably be filled with unknown risks and ever-approaching crises."

“The Death Eaters are searching for us, the Ministry of Magic, yes, the Ministry of Magic,” he emphasized the word, speaking sarcastically, “and could very well be accomplices of the Mystic. Some of you,” his gaze swept over the older students, “maybe, in the near future, need to take up your wands. “To protect yourselves, to protect your companions, to face real challenges far beyond what you learn and practice in the classroom.”

Snape looked at the younger children, whose eyes still held a hint of confusion.

“These things may be difficult for many of you to understand, and you may not be able to bear their true weight immediately. That’s okay,” he said gently. “The professors, and we upperclassmen, will do our best to protect you.”

"But I also hope that during this period, you can use your wisdom to learn, not just from books; to think and analyze, how to grow during this extraordinary time."

“Starting tomorrow, the latest and most important Daily Prophet will be available in the book corner next to the Great Hall,” Snape announced. “You can use it, of course, with a critical eye, to learn about what is happening in the outside world and the Ministry of Magic’s ‘official line’.”

“At the same time,” he added, “we are also considering creating our own information channels. A newspaper, or a secret radio station. If any students are interested and willing to contribute their ideas and efforts, they can communicate their intentions directly with Professor McGonagall.” He looked at Professor McGonagall, who nodded slightly to the group.

He then emphasized his words again, adding a warning: "Just a heads up, the Daily Prophet's reporting on the truth is unlikely to be friendly."

"It will likely slander and distort us in various ways, accusing us of being rebels, and may even persuade us to 'return to the right path' and go back to the 'safe' castle that has been taken over by the Death Eaters."

"At the same time, please remember that we respect free will. As for adult wizards who are seventeen years of age or older," Snape's gaze swept over the seventh-year students, "if you have carefully considered and decided to place your fate in the pity or lies of others and wish to leave the 'Founders' Ship,' we will allow you to leave and pursue your own freedom."

“However, for all underage wizards,” he shook his head and said, “please forgive our slightly ‘paternalistic’ approach, your right to choose will be temporarily reserved, and we will make the choice for you.”

"In order to minimize unnecessary losses and for your safety, you may decide your own fate only when you have reached the age or will to truly understand and bear the consequences of your choices."

That's all I wanted to say.

A heavy silence descended once more.

A few seconds later, clear, slow applause rang out from around the teacher's desk. Grindelwald raised his hands and clapped lazily.

Then, a few scattered claps followed hesitantly, sounding somewhat awkward.

Only the house-elves wearing tea towels reacted most intensely. They excitedly patted their large ears, let out tiny cheers, and looked at Snape with teary eyes.

Most of the students then engaged in intense, hushed conversations, the buzzing instantly filling the restaurant.

Snape waited a few seconds, without trying to suppress the conversation.

“Alright,” he spoke again, his voice drowning out the murmurs, “everyone can go back to their cabins to rest, or return to their posts. Tomorrow,” he raised his voice, “everything will proceed as usual; we will continue with the classes. Oh, and by the way,” he added, “next Monday, don’t forget, we have a Halloween dinner, still here…”

With the coordination of administrators Filch, Abbott, and Barty, the crowd began to disperse in an orderly manner.

They spoke in hushed tones, discussing Snape's words, the mysterious "Mr. Grimm," the future, and even the upcoming Halloween.

At this moment, Grindelwald yawned widely, stretched, and looked weary and tired.

“Such a wonderful day,” he drawled, glancing at Snape and Professor McGonagall, “I need to get some rest too. Minerva, so, my room?”

Professor McGonagall nodded immediately and beckoned to a house-elf who seemed relatively calm: "Take Mr. Green and Ms. Rozier to the VIP cabin that has been prepared."

Grindelwald stood up, and Ms. Rozier followed closely behind. Led by their house-elf, the two turned and headed towards the cabin entrance, disappearing between the gangways leading to the upper living quarters.

“Professor McGonagall,” Snape turned to Professor McGonagall after the others had walked a little further away and asked in a low voice, “I don’t seem to see Moody and the Longbottoms?”

Upon hearing this, Professor McGonagall's face instantly became shrouded in deep worry.

“They…they didn’t arrive at the rendezvous point with everyone.” She sighed, her voice tense. “The last message we received was that they were intercepting the pursuers, and then we lost contact.”

“I’ve tried several emergency contact methods, but all have failed so far.” She rubbed her temples, looking worried. “I will continue to try to get in touch with them. I hope Merlin will protect them…”

Snape nodded silently.

Professor McGonagall adjusted her breathing, trying to dispel the heaviness, and put on an expression that was almost one of complaint.

“Also, Severus,” she said, “could you perhaps try to take over the Potions class later on? Eileen told me that your talent for Potions is extraordinary. I substituted for you for a while the other day, but I was really struggling.”

“Alright, leave it to me.” Seeing Professor McGonagall’s tired appearance, Snape agreed succinctly without much hesitation.

Professor McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief and patted his arm: "Thank you, Severus."

Snape said nothing. He turned around, his gaze sweeping over the students who were leaving, and saw Lily and Pandora standing together waiting for him, so he walked towards them.

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(End of this chapter)