"What's going on? Are Death Eaters attacking?"
Deviro frowned, eyes fixed on the horizon. His expression was tense, alert. The commotion came from the direction of the Great Hall—too far from the teaching building for him to see anything clearly. But instinct told him something was wrong.
He tightened his grip on his wand, making a swift decision.
"Stone Steed, move out!"
From a pile of rubble, a small stone pony leaped forward. It had been standing quietly, but the string of blasting curses Deviro had cast earlier had left it visibly shaken. Even so, the magical creature dutifully trotted to his side.
Deviro gave it a reassuring pat on the mane, his smile momentary before his eyes darkened. He turned to Marcus's broken body lying nearby. With a gentle poke of his wand, he lifted the body into the air. It floated, limp and swaying—defenseless.
Vaulting onto the stone pony, Deviro squeezed its sides gently. The pony immediately began to move, taking firm, deliberate steps. Guiding Marcus's body with his wand, Deviro galloped toward the source of the explosion.
Outside the Hogwarts Boathouse
"Stay vigilant at all times!"
A thunderous voice roared.
A grizzled old man with a single functioning eye glared at a girl who had strayed too close to the Black Lake. His presence was both commanding and intimidating.
"Tonks, if you wander off again, don't expect to stay on the mission!"
His face, deeply lined and scarred, held a fierce, almost mythical quality. One normal black eye gleamed with sharp awareness, while the other—a rotating, blue magical prosthetic—spun constantly, piercing through walls and illusions alike. Most avoided making eye contact.
Even his appearance was a patchwork of battles survived: a nose partially missing, hair and beard tangled and gray-white, and a wooden prosthetic leg replacing one lost in combat. Next to these features, the wooden limb almost seemed ordinary.
"Yes, sir," the young woman—Tonks—muttered, reluctantly rejoining the group.
Tonks stood out in the group of a dozen Aurors. Her hair was dyed in a vivid gradient from violet to orange, and her fashion-forward appearance contrasted sharply with the grim seriousness of the mission.
With a pale, heart-shaped face and sparkling black eyes, Tonks still found herself distracted by the familiar scenery.
"Hogwarts has changed a lot in just three months," she muttered.
The witch beside her overheard and smiled. "Once you're a full Auror in two years, you might not recognize it at all when you come back. I didn't realize it until after graduation—Hogwarts changes fast."
"Right?" Tonks brightened. "I heard they renovated the girls' washroom this year! I lived there for seven years, and they wait until I graduate to fix it!"
The two women chuckled, trading grievances about the school's oddly timed improvements.
As their conversation trailed off, Tonks glanced toward the front of the group and whispered, "Hey, Prout, do you know why Moody came? Isn't he supposed to be retired?"
Prout's expression grew serious. Leaning close, he whispered back, "I heard this has something to do with that person."
Tonks froze, eyes wide with shock.
"No way… really?"
Prout grinned. "Don't worry, we're not going to actually see him. This mission's still safe. We're just assisting the school in catching a few dark wizards who snuck in. Otherwise, we wouldn't bring a freshly graduated Auror like you."
Tonks huffed and rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright…"
As they neared the reception room at Hogwarts, Moody barked another order in his trademark gruff voice.
"Delis, take two to guard the tower entrance. Prout, patrol the Hogsmeade checkpoint!"
He moved quickly, assigning positions to cut off every escape route. The goal was clear: ensure the target couldn't slip away.
Finally, his gaze landed on Tonks, who stood hopeful and wide-eyed.
"As for you—come with me to see Professor McGonagall."
Tonks's face dropped instantly. If she could describe her feelings toward Moody now, they were similar to Deviro's feelings about Snape.
"Let's move. Stay vigilant at all times!" Moody barked again and turned toward the reception room door, pushing it open without hesitation.
Prout gave Tonks a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before heading off.
With no choice, Tonks followed Moody into the building.
The reception room was unusually dark today. Shadows crept across the stone walls, and a strange silence hung in the air.
Tonks hesitated, glancing around. "Mr. Moody, why haven't any of the Hogwarts professors shown up? We entered like thieves…"
Moody strode ahead, his wooden leg clicking steadily on the floor. "The target is a teacher at the school. Dumbledore knows what we're doing—but the rest don't."
Tonks's eyes widened.
A teacher? A dark wizard among the staff?
Her first thought was immediate. "Is it… Professor Snape?"
Any Gryffindor might have asked the same.
"No," Moody said firmly, not even glancing back.
Tonks looked slightly disappointed. But before she could ask again, Moody suddenly stopped. She almost collided with his back.
He drew his wand instantly, raising an arm protectively in front of her, eyes narrowing.
Tonks followed his gaze—and gasped.
A silver tiger cat shimmered before them, casting an eerie glow across the stone floor. It prowled gracefully, silent and solemn, filling the dark room with an air of foreboding.
"A Patronus… McGonagall?" Moody muttered, his face grim.
The magical creature stood as a silent messenger—ominous and urgent.
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