Snape's wand-holding hand froze in mid-air. He felt a chilling sensation, deep to the bone, as if his very soul had been scrutinised, yet his body remained unharmed.
McGonagall, Professor Flitwick – everyone in the Great Hall – felt that terrible cold as the flames passed through them.
Panic-stricken screams abruptly ceased, replaced by gasps of bewildered apprehension.
However, their brief relief was soon shattered by sounds from deep within the ship's hold. From what seemed to be the lower storage compartment or where captives were temporarily held, distant, piercing, distorted screams echoed.
The sounds were filled with unimaginable pain and despair, penetrating deck after deck, clearly reverberating through the now quiet dining hall.
Those who had recovered from the illusory flames turned pale at the chilling sounds, casting fearful glances at the floor beneath their feet.
Mundungus, with a jolt, toppled backward along with his wobbly chair, landing clumsily on the ground.
"Merlin's filthy socks!" he muttered, scrambling to his feet, fumbling with a grimy hand in his pocket. He pulled out a dirty black pipe, shoved it into his mouth without looking, and with a trembling hand, reached for his wand to light it.
But before he could aim his wand at the pipe, he met Grindelwald's casually sweeping gaze. The pipe clattered from his pale lips onto the cold floor, rolling twice before stopping. He froze as if petrified.
Fortunately, the piercing screams didn't last too long.
After only a few seconds, the sounds ceased abruptly, as if a throat had been cut. All that remained was a soft, crackling sound, as if something was still burning quietly deep within the ship's hold.
"Professor McGonagall!" Hagrid exclaimed in alarm. "That's where the captured Death Eaters are held!"
"And not just that..."
Professor McGonagall's face became exceptionally grim. Previously, she had only thought of the students, teachers, and Order members, completely forgetting about the captives who had been disarmed, bound, and held in the lower hold.
"There are other places too," she said, her voice losing its colour, still gripping her wand tightly along with the other Order members. "Sturgis Podmore, he's still down there—"
Grindelwald was oblivious to their panic and Professor McGonagall's words. A faint smile still played on his lips.
The wand in Grindelwald's hand elegantly swirled. Like a receding tide, the cold blue flames retreated with astonishing speed from all directions, surging back into the dining hall.
They were more concentrated, more ferocious than when they had left, their colour deepened to a near-black, and their form had condensed from a vast sea of fire into a living, powerful blue fire dragon.
"Are you referring to him?" Grindelwald's voice finally spoke.
Only then did everyone notice that the indigo fire dragon's gleaming talons held a limp human figure. The person's eyes were closed, their face pale, but their chest rose and fell faintly, clearly not deceased. It was indeed Sturgis Podmore, an Order of the Phoenix member.
"Sturgis!" Professor McGonagall and several Order members were overwhelmed with joy and disbelief. They had just been steeped in the grief and anger of losing a comrade, never expecting Grindelwald to bring him back unharmed.
"So many people in the dining hall, and you can call them all 'our own'? That's quite something," Grindelwald said softly. "However," his gaze swept over Professor McGonagall and the others, "not only did you keep your enemies, but you didn't even notice someone hidden on the ship? And you kept your own people with that scum?"
"I think he might have been under the Imperius Curse," Professor McGonagall explained, her voice tinged with relief. "Sturgis was the one who threw the smoke bombs to create chaos in the corridor earlier, and we thought he was a traitor."
"Imperius Curse?" Grindelwald chuckled. "Perhaps you should teach him how to resist such third-rate tricks." He waved his wand again, and the fire dragon holding Sturgis loosened its grip, allowing Sturgis's body to fall to the floor.
Professor McGonagall immediately rushed forward, carefully catching him and checking his condition.
Grindelwald seemed to have accomplished his goal and was preparing to reabsorb the hovering blue dragon. However, the moment he issued the command, an unexpected change occurred.
Instead of obeying, the fire dragon suddenly swirled in the air. Its head, burning with cold blue flames, turned towards Snape. Its empty yet resolute draconic eyes locked onto him.
It let out a silent roar, opened its fanged maw, and, wielding its sharp fiery claws, lunged at Snape.
"Severus!"
Exclamations burst out again.
Lily and the others closest to Snape didn't hesitate. Several red Stunners instantly shot towards Grindelwald. Pandora reacted swiftly, reaching for her waist, and a tightly closed Biting Cabbage was hurled forcefully, directly at Grindelwald.
Facing the incoming spells and the dangerous plant, Grindelwald merely frowned slightly. His wand described a semicircle in front of him. An invisible shield instantly appeared, upon which the Stunners dissipated without a trace.
At the same time, his other hand shot out, grabbing the flying Biting Cabbage.
The cabbage struggled violently in his hand, its leaves suddenly opening to reveal jagged teeth, taking a harsh bite into the sleeve of his robes.
Meanwhile, the blue fire dragon had already lunged at Snape, its icy flames instantly engulfing him completely.
As before, Snape's body was not ignited.
However, the moment he was enveloped by the cold Fiendfyre, his face changed drastically. He felt the place inside his robes where Tom Riddle's diary was hidden suddenly become incredibly hot.
A terrible and prolonged scream, capable of piercing everyone's eardrums, filled with venom and despair, erupted from Snape's chest.
The sound was so piercing it felt as if it could tear one's soul apart.
This sudden scream made everyone stop their actions, turning to look at Snape, who was enveloped in blue flames.
Even the Biting Cabbage, clinging fiercely to Grindelwald's sleeve, seemed to be stunned by the pain contained within the scream. It loosened its sharp teeth, clattered to the floor, and its leaves quickly closed.
Immediately afterward, thick, inky black liquid began to seep furiously from the fabric of Snape's robes near his chest. It rapidly spread and flowed, winding down his black robes, dripping onto the wooden deck of the dining hall with a heart-stopping sound.
As the inky substance poured out, the fire dragon wrapping Snape seemed to have completed its mission, contentedly flapping its immense wings of flame.
Its cold dragon eyes swept over the expanding black stain on the floor one last time, then it transformed into a stream of light and darted back into the tip of Grindelwald's wand.
Snape stood amidst the mess, his robes heavily stained, a small puddle of faintly black-smoking ink beneath his feet.
"Damn," he thought, with only one thought, "Tom's diary was just destroyed like that—that's so unexpected—" He subconsciously reached into his robes, wanting to see what had become of the diary.
"Leave it there," Grindelwald's voice, with a rare hint of sternness, stopped his movement. He looked at the strange inky puddle at Snape's feet, waved his hand to clear the remnants, then asked, "Severus, you carry such things with you?" He clearly recognised what the ink and the screaming sound under the Fiendfyre meant.
"Well," Snape felt the shocked, puzzled, and even slightly fearful gazes from those around him, choosing to explain in as understated a tone as possible, "It's merely a small dark magic item. For personal research."
He had no choice but to accept the fact that the diary had been destroyed, sighing internally, "Never mind, this is the third one. Let's just consider it preemptive destruction."
Grindelwald said no more. He lightly tapped the plant that had bitten his sleeve with the tip of his wand, and the cabbage floated up, flying steadily towards Pandora.
Pandora's face flushed slightly as she silently retrieved her "weapon," carefully tucking it back into her robes.
"Keep it safe, little girl," Grindelwald said, looking at her, his tone softening somewhat. "It's not right to throw things around; it wouldn't be good if you hit one of your own."
With that, he calmly put away his wand, looked at everyone, and a graceful smile returned to his face.
"Alright, everyone. The troublesome hindrance has been dealt with." He cleared his throat, saying calmly, "Now, should dinner begin?"
He even calmly glanced at the magical clock in the corner of the dining hall, then turned his gaze to the house-elves still huddled trembling against the wall, adding in a comforting tone, "Oh, right, don't worry, it's very clean down there now. It won't add any extra work for you."
The atmosphere at dinner, as one might imagine, was grim. The roasted chicken, stewed meat, and other dishes brought by the house-elves emitted tempting aromas, but in this oppressive mood, most people found the food tasteless. The clinking of cutlery against plates seemed particularly grating.
Students kept their heads down, their gazes shifting between their food and their teachers. Eileen looked worriedly at Snape, and Professor Flitwick nervously poked at a potato. Only Mundungus, seemingly recovered from his fright, was devouring his food, making quite a bit of noise as he chewed.
At the staff table, Grindelwald seemed utterly detached. He ate with graceful precision, his movements meticulous.
Watching his nonchalant demeanour, Snape finally couldn't help but turn his head and whisper to Grindelwald beside him, "Mr. Gellert, that thing, I still had use for it, and now it's just gone."
Grindelwald slowly swallowed his food, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then looked at Snape, his grey eyes inquisitive:
"What use did you have for that thing? If you want to know how to make it, you could simply ask me."
Snape shook his head, his voice even lower. "It's for Nagini, the blood curse on her. The fragmented soul within that diary could have served as a unique absorption source."
Hearing this, a flicker of genuine surprise crossed Grindelwald's eyes. He put down his knife and fork, studying Snape carefully for a few seconds.
"Using a Horcrux to absorb a curse from a soul?" he murmured, his tone admiring. "Your idea is very unique, very bold, but," he changed his tone, "also very dangerous. That's no reason to carry such an extremely dangerous item with you. The slightest mistake, and you could be possessed or controlled by it."
Snape remained silent, offering no rebuttal. This had also been a constant worry for him, which was why he had deliberately slowed Nagini's treatment progress. "So," Grindelwald didn't dwell on the topic, instead asking, "How exactly did your Headmaster end up in his current state?" He gestured towards the hospital wing.
"We don't fully know the specific details," Snape said. "He left the school alone to search for Riddle's... things. We suspect he might have accidentally walked into a trap set by Riddle, or rather, Riddle's territory."
"And the result is as you've seen," he spread his hands. "If the house-elves hadn't led us to him, Professor Dumbledore might never have seen you again."
"Hah," Grindelwald sneered, "The great Albus Dumbledore, outsmarted by a junior's trap? All for a few bits of rubbish? He's truly going backwards in his old age."
"That's the thing, Mr. Grindelwald." Snape was silent for a few seconds, then said with a sigh and a hint of confusion, "I think Professor Dumbledore might not have just been trying to destroy those objects. He might have been looking for the legendary Resurrection Stone, which is also one of Riddle's evil creations."
"I don't understand what use he'd have for the Resurrection Stone," he shook his head, his voice showing bewilderment. "Even children know that magic can't bring the dead back to life. Forcibly reversing life and death only brings distortion and disaster. He should know that better than anyone."
When the words "Resurrection Stone" left Snape's lips, Grindelwald's hand, which was cutting food on his plate, paused slightly.
The sarcastic expression on his face instantly vanished. He didn't respond immediately, nor did he look at Snape.
Grindelwald simply slowly put down his knife and fork, picked up his napkin, and meticulously wiped his mouth and fingers, his movements precise.
The dining hall remained quiet, save for the faint sounds of students eating.
After a long while, Grindelwald finally raised his eyes.
"Regarding the curse on that little snake," he made no further comments on Dumbledore's actions, instead turning to Snape, his voice returning to its previous calm, "It's very difficult to remove, but I will think of a way."
Then, he scanned the students in the dining hall and suggested to Snape: "After so much upheaval, the ship needs stability. I recommend that after dinner, you say something to them.
"Whether it's to calm their hearts or boost their morale, you can't have them all shivering with their pillows tonight, can you? They need direction, even if it's just a vague promise."
Snape followed Grindelwald's gaze, seeing the weariness, apprehension, and bewilderment in the students' eyes, seeing their clumsy attempts to comfort their friends.
"I know," he nodded. "It's about time we told everyone."
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