After leaving his seat, Snape walked a few steps to Professor McGonagall's side, leaning in slightly to speak to her in a low, rapid consultation.
"I agree, Severus," Professor McGonagall nodded gravely, her tight brow relaxing slightly. "This is more fitting for you to do. They need to hear a student's voice, rather than us old folks'."
"Also, Professor McGonagall," Snape immediately lowered his voice even further. "How exactly did the Death Eaters find the Founders' Ark?"
"Most likely Sturgis," Professor McGonagall said. "He was under the Imperius Curse and broadcast our location."
"So, could it be related to the Trace?" Snape continued to inquire. "Would the Trace on underage students on the ship..."
"Absolutely not, Severus," Professor McGonagall immediately shook her head, her tone resolute. "After the 'Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery Act' was enacted in 1875, the then-Headmistress, Professor Eupraxia Mole—who was Phineas Black's predecessor—foresaw the potential risks."
"She gathered a group of top witches and wizards at the time and secretly incorporated extremely powerful isolation charms into the Founders' Ark's core defenses, specifically targeting Trace detection."
"And," she glanced at Snape, her eyes showing the pride of an old Hogwarts professor, "before we officially set sail, Filius and I specifically re-examined these charms, and they are still working perfectly."
"Of course, Professor Mole believed these measures shouldn't be widely publicized." Professor McGonagall, for once, made a rare joke, a faint smile playing on her lips. "None of this is recorded in *Hogwarts: A History*. If you'd like, calling it *A Carefully Edited History of Hogwarts* might be more fitting."
"I see, Professor." Snape nodded knowingly, a small smile touching his lips too, then turned and returned to his seat. In the Great Hall, the house-elves had already begun carefully clearing the untouched, exquisite dinner plates.
---
As the crisp clatter of cutlery gradually subsided and only hushed murmurs filled the hall, Snape slowly rose again. His silent movement, in itself, was like a command, drawing everyone's attention to him. Besides the adult wizards and a handful of 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 permeated the air. The brutal attack, the fierce battle, and the terrifying, all-consuming blue Fiendfyre unleashed by Grindelwald upon his return, followed by the dreadful screams and ink of the destroyed diary, all weighed heavily on everyone's hearts, like the dark, unknown night sky outside the portholes.
Snape's gaze swept across the dining hall, passing over his friends' faces, finally resting on the faces of all the Hogwarts survivors who were looking up at him. Those faces showed bewilderment, fear, exhaustion, and lingering shock.
"Although the house-elves' cooking is, as always, reliable," Snape cleared his throat, speaking in a measured tone, "I daresay none of you truly enjoyed your meal today." He paused, his gaze calmly meeting the faces below. "Your lack of appetite isn't due to the food not being to your taste. After all, we've been through a great deal these past few days."
Dozens of eyes watched him unblinkingly.
"Tonight," Snape continued, "I won't be lecturing you with empty platitudes, nor will I paint a picture of future hope. I am here to share some crucial information we've gathered."
"I believe many of you have likely already surmised that significant changes have occurred at Hogwarts." He slightly raised his voice. "Our departure from the castle, sailing through the skies on the 'Founders' Ark,' was no special trip arranged for Muggle-born students, nor was it a leisurely study tour." He took a deep breath, calmly delivering the harsh truth. "This is an escape."
A difficult-to-suppress murmur and collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Even though they had suspected it, hearing it formally stated still weighed heavily on their hearts.
"We chose to leave," Snape said, "not because fear has destroyed our courage. Quite the opposite; it's because staying would only lead to meaningless, worthless sacrifice. It was to protect all of you." He looked around at everyone, seeing some lowered heads lift again, a faint light rekindling in their eyes.
"Specifically, the unexpected incident today might also have led you to guess another truth," Snape's tone grew somber, "a truth about Professor Dumbledore."
As his words fell, almost simultaneously, the entire hall erupted. Students gasped loudly; several Order of the Phoenix members stood up in distress; Mundungus's mouth hung open, and he recoiled; Hagrid let out a low whimper, like a wounded beast, and slammed his massive fist on the table with a thud.
Snape didn't stop them, simply waiting quietly. Only when the initial shock and commotion had somewhat subsided did he speak again.
"Professor Dumbledore has suffered an unfortunate incident," Snape raised his voice, quelling the unrest, before continuing. "But you needn't worry excessively. He is only injured and is steadily recovering."
This news brought forth a different, complex emotion: worry still weighed heavily, but it was now mixed with hope.
"So, you might be wondering," Snape shifted his focus, posing the sharpest question, "What do we do next? If the Death Eaters could find us once, they can find us again."
"And if next time, it's not a small group of enemies, but the Dark Lord himself who comes, how will we resist him?"
His gaze turned to the figure beside him, who still seemed out of place, exuding a powerful, oppressive aura.
"Fortunately," Snape turned slightly, raising his arm to indicate the lazily poised man beside him, who nevertheless radiated an invisible aura of power, "we are not alone. Professor Dumbledore's old friend, Mr. Green, has answered Professor Dumbledore's request and is now with us."
At Snape's gesture, Grindelwald merely lifted an eyelid slightly as a greeting, completely ignoring the many reverent and curious gazes directed at him.
"Mr. Green possesses extraordinary magical power; his strength is in no way inferior to Professor Dumbledore's. I believe," Snape looked at Grindelwald, then back at everyone, "that 'cleansing' just now was enough for all of you to witness his power firsthand."
A reverent silence fell over the dining hall.
"So, with him here," Snape said with certainty, "you needn't worry excessively about the Dark Lord's direct threat. He will provide strong protection for Professor Dumbledore and our safety."
"However," he paused, his voice becoming heavy and realistic, "I also have no intention of deceiving you with lies to make the path ahead seem smooth. From this moment on, our journey will be devoid of comfort. It is bound to be fraught with unknown risks and ever-approaching dangers."
"The Death Eaters are searching for us. The Ministry of Magic—yes, the Ministry of Magic," he emphasized the words with sarcasm, "is also very likely to become the Dark Lord's accomplice. Some of you," his gaze swept over the older students, "may even, in the near future, need to pick up your wands."
"To protect yourselves, to protect your companions, to face true challenges far beyond what you've learned and practiced in the classroom."
Snape looked at the younger children, whose eyes still held a hint of naiveté.
"This, for many of you, may still be hard to understand, and you may not immediately grasp its true weight. That's alright," he said gently. "The professors, and we older students, will do our utmost to protect you."
"But I also hope that during this time, you will use your wisdom to learn—not just from books—and to think, to analyze, how to grow during this extraordinary period."
"Starting tomorrow, the library corner next to the Great Hall will begin to provide the latest and most crucial *Daily Prophets*," Snape announced. "You can use it, of course, with a critical eye, to understand what's happening in the outside world and the Ministry's 'official stance.'"
"At the same time," he added, "we are also considering creating our own information channel. A newspaper, or a secret radio station. If any students are interested in this and willing to contribute their ideas and efforts, you can directly communicate your intentions to Professor McGonagall." He looked at Professor McGonagall, who nodded slightly to the crowd.
He then emphasized his words again, with a warning: "Be forewarned, the *Daily Prophet*'s reporting of the truth is very likely to be unfriendly."
"It will likely slander and distort us in various ways, accuse us of being rebels, and may even encourage you to 'return from your misguided path' to that 'safe' castle, which is already under Death Eater control."
"At the same time, please remember that we respect free will. For adult wizards aged seventeen or older," Snape's gaze swept over several seventh-year students, "if, after careful consideration, you decide to place your fate in the mercy or woven lies of others, and wish to leave the 'Founders' Ark,' we will allow you to leave and pursue your freedom."
"However, for all underage wizards," he shook his head and said, "please forgive our somewhat 'paternalistic' approach. Your right to choose will be temporarily withheld; we will make the choice for you."
"To minimize unnecessary losses and to ensure your safety, only when you reach an age or level of will that truly allows you to understand and bear the consequences of your choices will you be able to decide whether to stay or leave."
"That is all I have to say."
A heavy silence descended once more.
A few seconds later, slow, distinct applause came from the teachers' table. Grindelwald raised his hands, clapping lazily. Then, scattered, hesitant applause followed, seemingly a bit awkward. Only the house-elves in their tea towels reacted most intensely. They excitedly flapped their large ears, emitting tiny cheers, and looked at Snape with tear-filled eyes.
Most of the students, however, were deep in hushed conversations; murmurs instantly filled the dining hall. Snape waited a few seconds, not attempting to suppress the conversations. "Alright," he said again, his voice rising above the chatter, "everyone can return to their cabins to rest, or go back to their posts. Tomorrow," he announced, raising his voice, "everything will proceed as normal, and we will continue our lessons. Oh, and," he added, "next Monday, don't forget, we're having a Halloween feast right here—"
Under the coordination of Filch, Abbott, Barty Crouch Jr., and others, the crowd began to disperse in an orderly fashion. They talked in low voices, discussing Snape's words, the mysterious "Mr. Green," the future, and some even the upcoming Halloween.
At this point, Grindelwald let out a big yawn, stretched, his face showing a mixture of weariness and fatigue.
"What an eventful day," he drawled, glancing at Snape and Professor McGonagall, "I need a good rest now. Minerva, my room, then?"
Professor McGonagall immediately nodded and motioned for a house-elf who seemed relatively calm. "Take Mr. Green and Ms. Rosier to the prepared guest cabins."
Grindelwald stood up, with Ms. Rosier following closely. The two, led by the house-elf, turned and headed towards the ship's entrance, disappearing between the gangways leading to the upper residential areas.
"Professor McGonagall," after others had moved a bit further away, Snape turned to Professor McGonagall and asked in a low voice, "I don't seem to have seen Moody and the Longbottoms?"
Upon hearing this, Professor McGonagall's face instantly clouded with deep worry.
"They... they didn't arrive at the rendezvous point with everyone else," she sighed, her voice tight. "The last we heard, they were intercepting pursuers, and then we lost contact."
"I've tried several emergency contact methods, but they've all failed so far," she rubbed her temples, looking concerned. "I will continue to try and reach them. May Merlin protect them."
Snape nodded silently.
Professor McGonagall adjusted her breathing, trying to shake off the heaviness, and adopted an expression that almost bordered on complaint.
"Also, Severus," she said, "for the upcoming Potions lessons, would you mind trying to take them over? Eileen tells me your Potions talent is extraordinary. I've been covering for a while now, and it's proving to be quite a strain."
"Alright, I'll take care of it," seeing Professor McGonagall's tired demeanor, Snape agreed without hesitation.
Professor McGonagall sighed with relief and patted his arm. "Thank you, Severus."
Snape said nothing more. Turning around, his gaze swept over the departing students, seeing Lily and Pandora waiting together for him, and he walked towards them.
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