The night before departure, they gathered in the Great Hall.
The real Mad-Eye Moody now sat at the staff table, looking particularly on edge. He jumped at every word spoken to him—hardly surprising after being locked in his own trunk for ten months. The ordeal had clearly intensified his paranoid vigilance.
Karkaroff's seat stood empty. Whether he'd managed to flee or fallen into Voldemort's hands remained a mystery.
Madame Maxime was still there, seated beside Hagrid. They were deep in quiet conversation, apparently having mended their relationship completely. Orli knew the giant situation would likely depend on these two.
Professor McGonagall's expression was grimmer than Orli had ever seen. She studied Harry intently before sweeping her gaze across every child in the hall.
Beside her seat, Snape's chair sat vacant.
Was he safe? Had he been injured? How could he possibly regain Voldemort's trust after returning...
Orli was lost in these dark thoughts when Professor Dumbledore suddenly rose from the staff table, jolting her back to the present. The Great Hall fell into absolute silence.
"Another year ends," Dumbledore said, his voice carrying to every corner of the hall.
"Tonight, I have much to tell you all. These past few days have been filled with speculation about the sudden curfew and the interrupted Triwizard Tournament. I believe you deserve to know exactly what transpired."
Orli lifted her eyes to meet Dumbledore's steady gaze.
"Voldemort returned to life on the night of the Triwizard Tournament finals."
A wave of shocked whispers rippled through the hall. Students stared at Dumbledore with expressions of horror and disbelief. Then their eyes began darting frantically around the room, many settling on Harry and Orli—the Boy Who Lived who had once defeated the Dark Lord, and the girl from Trelawney's prophecy whose fate was somehow intertwined with Voldemort's return.
The two sat side by side, their faces masks of calm as the murmurs gradually died away.
Hermione's fingers intertwined with Orli's, while Ron's hand rested protectively on Harry's arm.
"The Ministry of Magic would prefer I keep this information from you," Dumbledore continued, his voice unwavering.
"Some of your parents may be appalled by my decision—either because they cannot accept that Voldemort has truly returned, or because they believe such knowledge is too heavy a burden for young minds. However, I firmly believe that truth, however painful, is always preferable to lies."
Every face in the Great Hall was turned toward Dumbledore, etched with shock and fear... save for the Slytherins. Draco Malfoy huddled with Crabbe and Goyle in urgent whispers, while the older Slytherin students wore expressions of complex unease. The younger ones clustered together, trading nervous glances.
When silence settled once more, Dumbledore pressed on:
"The Triwizard Tournament was designed to foster magical cooperation and understanding. Given recent events—given Voldemort's resurrection—such bonds have become more crucial than ever."
His gaze swept over Madame Maxime and Hagrid, Fleur Delacour and her Beauxbatons companions, then Viktor Krum and the Durmstrang delegation seated near the Slytherin table.
"Every guest within these walls," Dumbledore said, his eyes lingering meaningfully on the Durmstrang students, "will always find welcome here, should they choose to return. I fear—and pray I am mistaken—that we all face dark and troubled times ahead. Some among you have already felt Voldemort's cruelty firsthand. Many families have been shattered, loved ones lost to his malice."
"Therefore, I say to you once more—in the face of Voldemort's return, our strength lies in unity, our weakness in division. The Dark Lord excels at sowing discord and hatred. We can counter this only through unshakeable bonds of friendship and trust. Differences in custom and tongue mean nothing when our goals align and our hearts remain open."
The words hung in the air like an incantation, binding them all in shared purpose against the darkness to come.
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