Even though he knew something was bound to happen, Tver still slept deeply. It wasn't until the middle of the night that he woke on his own.
That ability came from years of staying up late.
When people sleep, less than half of the time is spent in deep sleep. As long as you get enough of it, you can shorten your total sleeping time.
So when Tver got up and dressed, there was still no sound at all outside.
"Like I'm actually looking forward to this," he muttered under his breath as he poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice.
Strictly speaking, he didn't need to be here tonight. Everything had already been arranged, and he trusted Barty, Maforio, and Cynthia to handle things.
But the issue he'd realized earlier, while dealing with Voldemort, made him want to see for himself how this plan would be carried out.
There were several thousand innocent witches and wizards here from all over the world. Too many variables were out of his control.
If things went badly and caused serious fallout, it would be like handing Lucius and the rest of the former Death Eaters a weapon against him.
As long as he remained strong, they were his most loyal subordinates. The moment he fell, they would become the ones to bury him.
Tver sat completely submerged in the darkness, expressionless, taking small sips of pumpkin juice. The light in his eyes grew colder by the second.
Well, it might have felt more fitting if it were something stronger than pumpkin juice. But it tasted good, so what could he do?
He set the glass down with a quiet sigh. The noise outside had already reached the tent.
"Did something happen?" Sirius stepped out of the room, still half-asleep but gripping his wand tightly.
Mr. Weasley and his three eldest sons followed, rubbing their eyes as they came out as well.
"It's loud. Doesn't sound like anything good," Tver said. "I'll go check it out. You wake the kids and get ready to leave."
Without waiting for a response, he drew his wand and stepped outside.
"Honestly… some people make a fuss when they lose, and even more of one when they win," Mr. Weasley said helplessly before turning to wake the children.
Outside, there wasn't much to see at first.
People were constantly running past, heading deeper into the forest, urging others to leave quickly.
It was as if they were fleeing from something.
He didn't have to wait long before he saw them.
Figures glowing with magical light, accompanied by mocking laughter and shouted jeers, moved slowly in their direction.
A group of wizards, packed tightly together. Every one of them wore a hood and a mask, their faces completely hidden.
Their wands were raised outward, clearly sustaining some kind of spell.
Then a burst of magic set a tent ablaze. By the firelight, Tver finally saw what was floating in the sky.
Four Muggles.
Men and women, all adults. They were conscious, staring in terror as they hung upside down in midair, screaming themselves hoarse. Their voices were drowned out by the chaos of the campsite, their words impossible to make out.
Tver's anger flared instantly.
There were Muggle campground managers here. He had anticipated that Muggles might get caught up in the procession and had ordered Maforio to move that family away in advance.
And yet Muggles had still been dragged in, paraded before a crowd in a display of pure-blood hatred.
This was the one thing he had most wanted to prevent.
"Wha—my God…" Mr. Weasley stared at the marching group in shock.
"Get the children out of here. They'll be here soon," Tver said, forcing his fury down.
Before he could finish, Sirius had already led Harry and the others outside.
"Oh no…" Hermione covered her mouth in horror. The others watched with equally grim expressions.
"Go," Mr. Weasley said calmly but quickly. "Sirius, George, Fred, take Ginny and the others into the forest. If it comes to it, Apparate away with them. Grimmauld Place or the Burrow, either is fine."
"And you?" Sirius asked.
"I'm going to stop those bastards."
"Then I—"
"No, you're not," Tver cut him off flatly. "You're still considered a criminal suspect by the Ministry. Don't give them an excuse to arrest you again."
Sirius's cheek twitched. He glared furiously at the procession, then lowered his gaze to Harry, who was looking at him with open concern.
...
He didn't hesitate any longer. Taking the youngest, Ginny, by the hand, he led the children away at once.
Before leaving, Harry and the others pulled the badges from their robes and pressed them into Tver's hands.
"You need these more than we do…"
With that, they followed the flow of people and disappeared from sight.
Tver closed his fingers around the badge, exchanged a brief look with Mr. Weasley, then raised his wand.
Bill, Charlie, and Percy did the same, though their eyes lingered uneasily on the procession ahead.
"What if those Muggles fall?" Percy asked, worry creeping into his voice.
The crowd continued to swell as curious onlookers joined in from time to time. Unlike the Death Eaters at the center, these people were only crudely masked. Yet most of the tents being set ablaze were their doing.
That, too, caught Tver off guard. He genuinely hadn't expected so many idiots who were just there to stir up trouble to be hiding in the camp.
"Then we save them first," Tver said coldly, snapping his wand through the air.
A cloud of smoke, darker than the night itself, poured forth. It flowed as smoothly as silk, yet curved through the crowd with the precision of a cold-blooded snake.
When it reached the very front of the procession, it detonated in an instant.
The smoke exploded outward like a bomb, releasing a force so overwhelming that even protective magic struggled to withstand it.
The marching crowd was brought to a dead stop, as if it had slammed head-on into a speeding lorry. Then the mass of bodies lost balance and toppled backward, crashing hard to the ground.
The entire area descended into chaos.
Naturally, the Muggles suspended in the air began to fall. But moments later, in sheer terror, they realized they weren't plummeting to the ground at all. Instead, they were floating, drifting slowly toward the forest.
Percy, however, kept his eyes fixed on Tver. He could tell this spell was anything but ordinary.
There had been no real physical impact. It was a wave that struck directly at the soul. At that level, ordinary protective magic was completely useless.
It was horrifying. Just learning a minor Dark Magic spell that could slightly affect a single person's soul had taken him nearly half a year. And yet the professor had unleashed a spell that covered such a wide area with a single motion.
And it was Dark Magic aimed at Death Eaters, whose souls were notoriously hardened.
"Percy… Percy?"
Bill had to shove him a few times before snapping him back to reality.
"What?" Percy asked blankly.
"Come on. Let's drive these people off."
Percy glanced around and realized that after saving the Muggles, the professor had already vanished without a trace.
Of course, Percy knew what tonight's plan was. With his nerves settling, he followed Bill and charged into the chaos.
...
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