A Certain Magical Hogwarts

At Hogwarts Castle,

Gryffindor Girls' Dormitory.

Hermione, asleep in her bed, suddenly woke up with a start. She ran her hand through her disheveled brown curls and sat up groggily.

It took a while for her to shake off her sleepiness. Finally, she got out of bed and cautiously pulled back the curtains.

Standing atop Gryffindor Tower, she looked out into the night. 

The moonlight bathed the sky like water, and the stars glimmered unusually bright.

Far away, deep within the Forbidden Forest, red light illuminated the horizon, with occasional flashes of lightning-like arcs of energy.

In her daze, Hermione found herself captivated by the sight and murmured, "Aurora? How beautiful…"

For Hermione, it might have been a magical display. But those near the battle, like Cedric and the others, would vehemently disagree.

Unlike the distant serenity of Hogwarts Castle, they were too close to the battle and the roars of combat were deafening.

The three of them vividly recalled the moment before: William leaping onto Firenze and charging into the fray.

Before departing, he had left them with one instruction: "Find Dumbledore!"

And so they had tried, but along the way, they stumbled upon Professor Snape in a rather pitiful state.

Snape had been knocked unconscious by someone, tied up by vines, and left dangling upside down from a tree branch.

Though they weren't particularly fond of Snape, they couldn't just leave him there. What if a wolf came along and dragged him off?

After all, wasn't Professor Burbage tragically killed by a herd of stampeding magical creatures?

So, the group fashioned a makeshift stretcher, laid Snape on it, and began levitating it back to the castle.

"Who goes there?!"

The forest path was uneven, and they had barely made it halfway when a voice rang out from the distance.

"Show yourselves—I'm armed!"

"It's us!" George quickly shouted. "Hagrid, over here!"

Hagrid emerged from the underbrush, striding toward them. 

He was dressed in a thick coat, holding the bronze bow William had given him in one hand and leading Fang with the other.

"On Merlin's beard! What are you kids doing out here? You shouldn't be here!" Hagrid bellowed.

"Who's that on the stretcher? It's not William, is it?" His voice quivered.

But as he approached and recognized Snape, he sighed in relief. "Thank goodness…I mean, what happened to Professor Snape? Is he dead?"

"Uh, no, he's not dead, not yet. He's just unconscious. Someone knocked him out," Cedric said with a stammer.

"It wasn't us!" Fred protested, noticing Hagrid's suspicious look.

"Never mind that now," George said urgently. "Hagrid, you need to hurry! There's a dark wizard slaughtering centaurs, and William is fighting him!"

"Don't worry, kids. Dumbledore is already on his way," Hagrid reassured them. "I saw him a few minutes ago—he's fast. He must already be there by now."

The group breathed a sigh of relief. With Dumbledore present, William's safety was almost guaranteed.

"Now, you lot need to get back to the castle and take Professor Snape to the hospital wing," Hagrid growled, "I'm going to find Dumbledore!"

Hagrid handed Fang's leash to Fred.

Fang whimpered, reluctant to leave. "Take Fang back too. He's useless out here, cowardly little beast!"

Hagrid hurried off, leaving Cedric and the others exchanging bewildered glances.

Fang, regaining his spirit, approached the stretcher and began licking Snape's face.

He sniffed Snape's hair but recoiled with a dramatic howl, his face contorted in disgust. He nearly vomited.

Fang backed away before turning his attention to Snape's pockets. Scratching at them with his paws, he managed to pull out a lot of things.

A large keyring, an empty coin pouch, Veritaserum, antidotes for Veritaserum and Amortentia, Black Widow venom, antidotes, bezoars, Laughing Draught, One-Day Fatal Death Potion, shampoo, conditioner…

"…"

"Look at this!" Fred exclaimed.

From the pile, he picked up a stash of suspicious-looking mushrooms.

Fred sniffed them and said seriously, "No doubt about it, these are our hallucinogenic mushrooms. The dragon dung smell is unmistakable. I can recognise the smell anywhere… What? You guys don't believe me?

"Taste it yourself—dragon dung and regular fertilizer have distinctly different flavors."

Cedric and George quickly shook their heads, adamantly refusing.

Though Snape's varied inventory was interesting, they were more astonished that Fred knew what dragon dung tasted like.

"These must be Snape's keys. One of them should open his potion storage," George said, holding up the keyring.

"Who cares which one? Let's copy all of them. When we get back, William can tell us which is which," Cedric drew his wand.

"Exactly. Snape's unconscious—there's nothing stopping us," Fred said with a wicked grin.

…

Meanwhile, by the lake, the battle raged on.

Although Hagrid had reassured Cedric and the others that Dumbledore had arrived minutes ago, William had yet to see him.

The fiery serpent clashed with the water dragon, producing a massive cloud of steam.

William had cleverly utilized the lake's water, transforming it to counter the opposing magic.

By using the environment, he increased the power of the water dragon while reducing the spell's difficulty, and the drain on his magical reserves.

Without access to water, William's current abilities wouldn't have allowed him to conjure such a massive dragon.

Battles were about strategy, and using terrain to maximize one's strengths.

Bane stood on his injured legs, pointing his massive sword at the dark-robed wizard.

The centaurs resumed firing their bows, positioning themselves for a pincer attack alongside William.

Voldemort vanished, reappearing slightly to William's left with a crack.

Before William could react, Firenze instinctively turned, dodging a bolt of red light that exploded into a crater where they had stood.

William didn't need to move—Firenze handled that. All William had to do was cast spells.

But Voldemort kept apparating unpredictably, closing the distance with each move.

Despite Professor Flitwick's intensive training, William was increasingly at a disadvantage.

If not for Firenze's speed and the distraction provided by the hundred or so centaurs, William would have already been defeated.

Voldemort wasn't playing games like he had at Gringotts. He was using every ounce of strength Quirrell's body could muster.

The distance between them shrank to just ten meters. Voldemort finally raised his wand and shouted:

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Fulmen Arcus Caeruleus!!" William countered, pouring all his magic into producing a blue arc of lightning.

Green and blue beams clashed midair, exploding with a deafening boom that shook the Forbidden Forest.

William managed to hold for barely five seconds before the lightning was overpowered.

Voldemort's magic surged as he laughed, the green light from his wand thickening from the width of a stick to that of an arm.

William's lightning was obliterated by the Killing Curse.

At that moment, a phoenix's cry echoed through the air.

At least, Dumbledore had arrived!

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