Moody's magical eye spun wildly. "No, Severus, the Death Eaters aren't that mad." He stamped his staff heavily on the floor, his voice raspy. "They wouldn't set up an ambush in Azkaban. In that wretched place, they can barely stand upright, let alone organize a proper ambush."
Moody's words, carrying the conviction of an old Auror, temporarily dispelled concerns about a trap. However, the atmosphere in the office didn't lighten.
Benjy Fenwick, a consistently cautious member of the Order of the Phoenix sitting beside Moody, spoke hesitantly: "Alastor's right, Dementors don't differentiate between friend and foe."
"But, Alastor, the biggest threat probably isn't the Dementors... nor an ambush." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, his voice clearly shaky. "What if the Dark Lord himself is there, or happens to show up—"
"Indeed, Benjy is right," Snape interjected, his gaze sweeping over everyone, finally resting on Professor McGonagall. "The biggest variable is the Dark Lord himself."
"Unless we can pinpoint his whereabouts, or create a big enough diversion to completely draw his attention away from Azkaban, we can't rule out that risk."
Having said this, he nodded slightly to Professor McGonagall, his eyes conveying an unspoken hint: it was time to ask the one who could create such a diversion for help.
Professor McGonagall immediately understood Snape's intention. She took a deep breath, and decisively stated, "Mr. Green is currently in the infirmary guarding Albus. I'll go find him right away—"
Before she finished speaking, the office door opened, and Grindelwald's tall figure appeared in the doorway. "Did someone say they were looking for me?" He stood outside the door, his grey eyes sweeping over the solemn group inside, finally settling on Professor McGonagall.
"Mr. Green," Professor McGonagall immediately rose, bowing slightly. "We've just learned that two of our comrades, Frank and Alice Longbottom, are currently imprisoned in Azkaban. We are urgently discussing a rescue plan."
"But the greatest obstacle is the Dark Lord. If he happens to be at Azkaban, or is alerted and arrives, the rescue mission will be doomed. Therefore, we hope to gain your assistance in drawing him away from Azkaban. Only you can do this."
Grindelwald's eyebrow arched slightly, showing no other expression on his face. He didn't respond to Professor McGonagall's request, but simply sauntered unhurriedly into the office and sat down in an empty chair near the door, his posture relaxed, as if what he had just heard was merely the dinner menu.
A brief, awkward silence fell over the office.
"Mr. Green, Professor McGonagall speaks the truth," Snape's voice broke the deadlock. "No one here, myself included, is confident in directly engaging and distracting the Dark Lord while escaping unscathed. His power is immensely formidable and dangerous. Only you," he looked directly into Grindelwald's eyes, "possess the strength and experience to match, or even surpass, him."
"What Dark Lord or not Dark Lord?" The indifference on Grindelwald's face seemed to recede slightly, replaced by disdain and amusement. He leaned forward slightly, lifted his eyelids, slowly swept his gaze over everyone's eyes, then chuckled softly, his tone mocking: "You don't even dare to speak Voldemort's name, yet you wish to fight against him?"
The name seemed to carry a cold curse, causing the temperature in the office to drop sharply. Apart from Snape's impassive face, and Moody's hand instinctively tightening its grip on his staff, everyone else, except Grindelwald himself, involuntarily shivered, letting out small gasps, their eyes revealing undisguised fear.
Grindelwald took in everyone's reactions. "Hmph—" He stood up, a look of contempt and disappointment on his handsome face. "Look at you all. It's just a name, a symbol, and it frightens you this much?"
"Don't worry," his tone held a hint of mockery, "on this ship, heavily protected by ancient magic, calling his name won't be detected by any magical tracing."
"Mr. Green," Snape met Grindelwald's gaze unflinchingly, speaking softly, "Doesn't this rather demonstrate the courage of everyone present?"
"Even if we don't possess your extraordinary power, we still choose to oppose the most evil wizard in the world—Voldemort—even though we all know we might lose our lives in doing so."
"If we die, it will be by our own choice to face it, even if our bodies are trembling."
When Snape mentioned "Voldemort" again, although others uncontrollably showed discomfort, no one made a sound. A tense atmosphere imbued with a desperate determination filled the air.
Hearing this, Grindelwald slowly rose. He reached out and straightened the neatly folded sleeve of his robes, smoothing a tiny crease. With this simple movement, an invisible aura subtly emanated from him, not overtly oppressive, but carrying a deeply unsettling gravitas, as if a sleeping lion had stretched its limbs.
"Very well," Grindelwald's voice returned to its previous languid tone, "since I have nothing better to do. I suppose I'll go meet him."
"It'll be a good chance to see how much this Voldemort, who sends shivers down your spines and even defeated Albus Dumbledore, is truly worth."
Snape's heart settled, knowing Grindelwald had agreed.
"Mr. Green," he immediately added crucial information, "Voldemort's followers, the Death Eaters, all have a unique Dark Mark branded on the inside of their left arm. The design is a skull with a snake's tongue protruding from its mouth."
"Summoning Voldemort is simple: any Death Eater only needs to press that mark firmly with a finger. Voldemort himself can immediately sense where the mark has been touched and choose whether to respond to the summons and appear in person."
"A summoning mark?" Grindelwald nodded slightly, a hint of understanding flashing in his eyes. "That's a convenient design, I suppose. Saves me having to search the whole world for him."
He said nothing more, turning and walking directly towards the door. Ms. Rosier, who had been standing by, immediately followed.
"Vinda," Grindelwald instructed without turning his head, "You stay here."
Ms. Rosier's steps faltered, a clear reluctance showing on her face: "Sir, I—"
"That is an order," Grindelwald said.
Ms. Rosier pressed her lips together, then obediently stepped back, bowing respectfully, "Yes, sir." She stopped inside the doorway.
"Mr. Green," Professor McGonagall also hurried forward, speaking faster. "We plan to arrive at Azkaban around six o'clock tomorrow morning and begin the rescue. You don't have to rush off now; you can prepare a bit."
Grindelwald's foot had already stepped out of the office door. He merely replied blandly, "Understood. I know what to do," and his figure vanished from the doorway.
"Mr. Green, wait!" Professor McGonagall's heart tightened, and she called out again, quickly moving to the door. She swiftly pulled out a token engraved with the Hogwarts crest from her robes. "Take this; it will help you find your way back," she said, reaching out to hand him the token.
But only Grindelwald's fading voice came from outside the door: "No need."
Silence returned to the corridor, and Professor McGonagall gently closed the office door.
A muffled discussion then resumed inside the office.
"Mr. Green's actions," Professor McGonagall looked worriedly at the closed door, "given his personality and way of doing things, will likely cause a huge stir in the wizarding world. His identity—"
"There's no helping it, Professor; perhaps it's a necessary cost," Snape said, stepping closer to her, his voice lowered even further so that those nearby couldn't overhear. "Unless he remains an invisible presence on this ship forever, with his power, he will eventually draw attention."
"Besides, there aren't that many coincidences in the world," he continued. "People with his level of power in the wizarding world are few and far between. We can't simply have someone vanish in Switzerland and then suddenly have an incredibly powerful, unidentified wizard appear with us, can we?"
"As long as we firmly deny his identity, other national magical authorities won't rashly interfere in British internal affairs for a 'supposed' escapee, unless the British Ministry is truly provoked."
"As long as Mr. Green doesn't resume his past endeavors and doesn't pose an open challenge, they won't truly want to completely enrage us and create an unimaginably powerful enemy for themselves."
Professor McGonagall's tightly furrowed brow relaxed slightly. She pondered for a moment, then nodded gravely. "You have a point, Severus."
"So," she then turned and raised her voice, "now we need to decide who will go to Azkaban for the rescue."
"Against Dementors, the Patronus Charm is the only effective defense. We must ensure that everyone going can expertly conjure a powerful corporeal Patronus. Now, if you don't mind?"
Several silvery lights flashed consecutively in the office. Professor Flitwick's tiny silver hummingbird darted around the room with exceptional agility; Emmeline's Patronus, a swan, gracefully spread its wings; Moody's conjured leopard moved swiftly and elegantly around the room; Benjy Fenwick's was a slightly hazy silver Chow Chow...
However, Snape's was the most striking. He had chosen to use the Elder Wand, which had once belonged to Dumbledore. With a clear "Expecto Patronum!", a massive, solid, intensely silver-glowing serpent erupted from his wand tip, its silver light illuminating every astonished face. The serpent's head was held high, its coiled body taking up almost a quarter of the office space, pushing the other Patronuses into the corners.
Professor McGonagall's gaze lingered on Snape and the wand in his hand for a moment, her eyes complex, but ultimately she said nothing.
"Excellent," she withdrew her gaze, addressing everyone. "A stealth rescue is not suited for large numbers. Severus, Emmeline, your Patronuses are the most corporeal; if you're willing, you two will go. Alastor is most familiar with Azkaban's internal structure, but your body..." Her gaze turned to Moody.
"They're fine!" Moody growled, pointing to his bandaged nose. "This thing isn't bothering me. It's just medical advice, for 'looks,' it doesn't affect my wand work at all. Besides, Frank and Alice were captured protecting me; I have to go!"
"Alright," Professor McGonagall no longer questioned him. "Then, Alastor, you'll lead this mission. Severus, Emmeline, please be extremely careful."
Time slipped away in tense preparations. At 2 AM, a biting wind swept across the deck. Three cloaked figures stood at the edge of the ship's rail. Not far away, under the influence of powerful Obliviate, Sleeping, and high-level Confundus Charms personally cast by Professor Flitwick, Peter Pettigrew, James, and Sirius, along with their luggage, were neatly "placed" in a corner of the deck, awaiting Professor Flitwick's later delivery.
Meanwhile, Snape, Moody, and Emmeline were fully equipped and standing at the edge of the deck. Eileen quickly walked to Snape's side and, without a word, handed him a large, beautifully wrapped piece of chocolate. Snape nodded, silently putting it away.
"Everyone, final broom check!" Moody rasped, cautiously scanning the surrounding darkness.
After confirming everything was in order, the trio exchanged glances.
"Go!" Moody's voice dropped.
Three figures swung onto their brooms, black cloaks flapping in the wind. Snape pushed off first with a powerful thrust, soaring into the thick, star-studded night sky. Moody and Emmeline followed close behind, disappearing into the boundless darkness in the blink of an eye, plummeting towards the sea of clouds below.
They pierced through the clouds, descending rapidly, finally landing on a desolate, hard, and unfamiliar highland. Looking in all directions, there was only the unchanging, ancient, brilliant starry sky above and the cold, gleaming rocks below.
"Hold onto me!" Moody growled after putting away his broom, extending his calloused hand. Snape and Emmeline immediately gripped his arm tightly, vanishing with a loud pop.
When their feet touched the ground again, an icy, salty sea breeze whipped at their faces. Before them stretched the vast, rolling, inky-black North Sea, glimmering under the faint light of stars and moon. Giant waves roared, crashing furiously against the steep cliffs below with booming sounds; behind them, vast grasslands stretched into the predawn darkness, merging into the deeper night. This was near the Yorkshire coastline, where Snape had once visited with Dumbledore.
Without a moment's pause, Moody swiftly pulled out a crude but sturdy small wooden raft he had prepared earlier and enlarged it. Emmeline, acting instinctively, used a Levitation Charm to gently place it into the churning seawater below. The small raft bobbed violently in the waves, like a leaf that could be swallowed at any moment.
The trio quickly jumped onto the raft. Snape waved his wand, and a large piece of cloth, charmed with a powerful Disillusionment Charm and a Concealment Charm, appeared out of nowhere, swiftly covering the entire raft and firmly securing its corners to the edges. The cloth draped down, and under the influence of magic, quickly blended with the undulating seawater and the dim starlight, the entire raft perfectly vanishing on the rolling sea.
"Go!" Moody snarled.
Snape and Emmeline simultaneously pointed their wands at the water.
"Mobilicorpus!"
An invisible propelling force was applied beneath the raft. The raft cut through the surging black waves, heading swiftly and secretly towards the fortress in the center of the North Sea.
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