0441 Thoughts
It was over.
Harry's breathing gradually steadied as he slowly stood up with Sirius's support. His trembling fingertips brushed over the scar's location. The excruciating pain had disappeared along with the black wave in the sky, as if everything that had just happened was rely a dream.
In the quiet, dark forest, a buzzing sound like bees in flight gradually arose. Wizards and witches from various corners of the globe, who had eagerly traveled to witness the grandeur of the Quidditch World Cup, now stood frozen in place, their wide eyes fixed upon the once-majestic Quidditch pitch. The once grand stadium was now in ruins as barely a third of its original size remained intact. Each face in the crowd bore a unique cocktail of emotions: shock at the sudden turn of events, fear of what might co next, and an insatiable curiosity about the cause of such destruction.
Ron his freckled face drained of all color, struggled to clear the thoughts racing through his mind.
"That last one was, I an... your scar, Harry—" he stamred, his voice barely above a whisper as he attempted to voice the suspicions in his heart. However, a sharp, warning glance from Sirius made him close his mouth.
Crack!
The tense silence was abruptly shattered by a resounding crack that echoed through the forest.
With a crisp popping sound, Bryan apparated steadily in front of Sirius.
Bryan's gaze swept over the assembled group, taking in every detail with lightning speed. His eyes flickered from Sirius to Mr. Weasley, then to the younger mbers of their party: Harry, whose complexion remained unnaturally pale; Hermione, her bushy hair was even more disheveled than usual; Ron who was trembling; then Ginny, Fred and George. When he saw Bill and Charlie, Bryan raised an eyebrow giving a slight smile to the two who seed unsure of how to react to his presence. Finally, his attention settled on the unfamiliar figure standing awkwardly beside Hermione –Viktor Krum.
"And who might you be?" Bryan asked curiously.
The calm tone of inquiry frightened Krum, his tanned face turning snow-white. He trembled violently, almost falling due to weak knees.
"V-Viktor Krum, sir," he managed to stutter out, his thick accent more distinct than ever as he struggled to form clear sentences in English. "I am... I am Seeker for Bulgaria. I study at Durmstrang!"
Sirius, sensing the young man's distress, quickly interjected, "Earlier in the Top Box, we were cornered by three black-robed Dark wizards. This lad here," he gestured towards Krum, "brought Arthur to our aid. His quick thinking may well have saved our lives."
Bryan's gaze remained fixed on Krum as he processed this information. "You're one of Karkaroff's students, then?"
"Yes, that is correct, sir!" Krum's response was imdiate, his body as tense as if he were facing down a particularly ferocious Hungarian Horntail.
Seemingly satisfied with Krum's answers, Bryan gave a slight nod before shifting his attention back to the group: apart from Sirius who seed sowhat injured and Harry whose complexion was unnaturally pale, everyone else appeared to be in decent condition.
"What beca of the Dark witch I managed to trap?" Bryan inquired, his tone showing nothing of his inner thoughts.
"Fudge took her away. He had only just escaped from the Top Box with us when you arrived, and he left almost imdiately with the captured witch, muttering sothing about finding Rufus – Scrimgeour, I think. I believe his intention is to interrogate her personally."
Bryan nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered the situation. The witch he had captured was clearly from the underground world. It was common practice among such individuals to use various thods to safeguard sensitive information before embarking on high-risk missions. These precautions were specifically designed to prevent the exposure of crucial details about their assignnts in case of capture. Given these circumstances, Bryan had doubts about the outco of any interrogation the Ministry might conduct. He knew it was unlikely to get any aningful results, regardless of the thods employed.
After pondering for a few seconds, Bryan ca back to his senses. He noticed that everyone looked at him with awe, to the extent that they didn't know how to talk with him. anwhile, the crowd of onlookers that had been keeping a certain distance began to stir, gradually becoming aware of Bryan's presence in their midst.
Slowly people began to approach, their curiosity overcoming their fear – but only to a point as they stopped at what they believed a safe distance. A young boy, barely into his teens, raised a cara towards him with trembling hands. However, before he could press the shutter, his father – face ashen with terror – snatched the cara away. The man dragged his protesting son back into the crowd, not daring to look back.
Every witch and wizard who made eye contact with Bryan imdiately lowered their head, not daring to et his gaze directly.
Seeing this situation, Bryan's expression remained unchanged, but he sighed in his heart.
No wonder Dumbledore spent most of his ti at Hogwarts, rarely leaving his headmaster's office unless necessary.
People respected Albus Dumbledore, but to so extent, it could also be said that Albus Dumbledore was imprisoned in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by people's fear of his power.
After tonight, many things would be different.
But encouragingly, so people's gazes remained unchanged.
It was Sirius who finally broke the tense silence and urgently said,
"What in rlin's na is going on, Bryan? How did you manage to appear here so suddenly? And that woman and that ominous black shadow we saw earlier—"
At the ntion of the powerful witch and the black shadow, Harry imdiately wanted to say sothing, but Bryan raised his palm to stop him. Scanning the surroundings, Bryan calmly said,
"This isn't a suitable place to talk. Let's go sowhere else."
Sirius nodded in agreent, his expression solemn. "We can use our tent," he suggested. "It's just beyond the edge of the woods—"
"I need to find the Ministry officials, Sirius"
Although he was extrely curious about the imminent conversation, Mr. Weasley hesitated for a mont but still proposed to leave. For the Ministry of Magic, tonight's disaster was just beginning—rescue, investigation, compensation, mitigating the impact... a series of tasks that would likely keep the Ministry busy working at full capacity until the Christmas holidays.
"Let's go," Bryan said decisively, already starting to move. "I guess it won't be long before the Ministry cos looking for ."
As Bryan began to walk, the crowd parted before him like the Red Sea before Moses. People hastily retreated to the sides, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and fear, but not a single soul dared to approach or speak to him directly.
Before following the group, Hermione turned to Krum, her brown eyes warm with gratitude. "Thank you for your help earlier, Viktor," she said sincerely, giving him a small smile before jogging to catch up with her friends. Krum was left standing alone, his dark eyes fixed pensively on their retreating backs for a long ti.
The scene they saw as they erged from the forest was one of utter chaos.
The spectators' campsite was a scene of apocalyptic chaos.
Although the commotion at the stadium had subsided, it didn't an it was safe. Panicked crowds surged in every direction, their faces contorted with fear as they hastily packed their belongings, desperate to flee the site of such terrifying events. Tents were being dismantled with frantic speed, belongings tossed haphazardly into trunks and bags. The air was filled with noise of shouted spells, crying children, and the occasional crack of desperate Apparition attempts.
Scattered Ministry employees, easily identifiable by their official robes, were doing their best to maintain so semblance of order, but their efforts seed inadequate in the face of such widespread panic. Their voices were barely audible above the chaotic noise as they tried to direct the flow of people and prevent further accidents.
As if to highlight the danger of hasty magic in such chaotic conditions, a horrifying scene unfolded before their eyes. A wizard was attempting to Apparate away from the campsite. Whether due to his panicked state or his inexperience, the spell went horribly wrong. With a sickening sound, the unfortunate man was splinched – his body was separated mid-Apparition. One of his legs materialized several dozen feet away from the rest of his body, both parts twitching uselessly on the ground as the wizard's agonized wails filled the air until a haggard-looking Ministry employee hurriedly ca to help him.
The group witnessing this grueso scene felt their hearts grow heavy. if this was happening in plain sight, how many more such accidents were occurring out of view? How many witches and wizards had been injured in the night's turmoil? And how many lives had been lost?
With grim determination, Sirius led the group through the chaos to their tent. Only after Bryan sat down did the others take their seats. The atmosphere was heavy. Although they had just witnessed a duel that could go down in history, no one was jubilant about it.
Thud—
With a soft thud that seed unnaturally loud in the tense silence, Bryan placed the grapevine wand on the table before him. This uniquely shaped wand imdiately drew reverent gazes from everyone present. Although the mysterious witch who had wielded it had ultimately been defeated by Bryan, the mory of the incredible power she had demonstrated was still fresh in their minds.
Bryan tiredly rubbed his brow. Suppressing Cliodna in a head-on confrontation had required him to exert his full strength as well.
"Where's Remus?" he asked, his eyes scanning the group. "I had expected him to be with you."
The ntion of Remus caused a flicker of concern to pass over Sirius's face. "Just before coming to our aid," he explained, his voice heavy, "Arthur saw Remus take down a cloaked wizard. He was badly injured in the fight, so Arthur had a colleague take him directly to St. Mungo's."
Thinking of Remus, who had just been discharged from St. Mungo's, now back in the hospital, a trace of gloom flashed across Sirius's eyes.
Bryan nodded solemnly, absorbing this information. He removed his hand from his brow and noticed Harry looking at him eagerly. He nodded and smiled at him,
"Do you have sothing you wish to tell , Harry?"
As Bryan began to speak, the frozen air finally started to flow. Harry stood up with a clang, bumping into his chair. He pressed both hands on the table and said impatiently,
"Professor Watson," he began, his voice urgent, "that witch who tried to abduct – who is she exactly? Do you know her?"
Needless to say, this was currently the most intriguing question. From the conversation between Professor Watson and the witch during the earlier confrontation, it was clear that they knew each other, there was no doubt it.
"That's a rather complicated question—" Bryan smiled self-deprecatingly,
"Knowing that witch's true identity is of little significance to you. What I can tell you is this: she and I have a long-standing grudge, and I've been tracking her whereabouts for so ti now. But, I didn't expect her to appear here today."
Harry's next words ca out in a rush, as if he couldn't hold them back any longer. "I've seen her in my dreams, Professor," he blurted out.
Harry's voice trembled slightly as he continued, "That witch, she was with Voldemort!"
Harry's words imdiately caused a chorus of sharp intakes of breath in the garden. Apart from Sirius, Hermione, and Ron, the Weasley children were all incredibly surprised to hear Harry speak the Dark Lord's na.
"Dreams?" Bryan's brow furrowed deeply, his piercing gaze focused on Harry.
"Rember the letter Harry wrote to earlier, Bryan, when we had just got out of that place then—"
Sirius's expression was solemn as he explained the situation to Bryan as concisely as possible. Then, he focused his gaze on Harry's eyes,
"You're absolutely certain you didn't mistake her identity, Harry?"
"I swear!" Harry said urgently, "That witch and Voldemort appeared in an old house. They were discussing so sort of plot, or rather, they wanted to capture —"
Only now, in the relative calm following the chaos of the night, did Harry find himself recalling additional details from his dream.
Hermione covered her mouth, her gaze full of concern, while Ron and his siblings all wore bewildered expressions.
Professor Watson's calm deanor sowhat eased the anxiety in Harry's heart. After swallowing hard, he continued breathlessly,
"There was an old man in the house too, He seed to be a Muggle. I... I think Voldemort killed him. Oh, and Bertha Jorkins, Voldemort seems to have killed her too!"
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