HP: Embrace the Darkness

A chaotic night came to an end.

The little white tiger sent Voldemort back to Malfoy Manor, staring at the looming figure upstairs, and reluctantly dispersed after a while.

Cavendish Manor study.

Aces, who had closed his eyes to rest, suddenly opened his eyes.

He breathed a long sigh of relief, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, stood up and went to the window, looking at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore and he both knew that for the teachers and students of Hogwarts, tonight... was destined to be a sleepless night.

On the other side, tired students followed the confused professors to the open space under the astronomy tower.

There, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick found Dumbledore's body.

The fall from a high altitude caused irreversible damage to the old man, and his original appearance was almost unrecognizable.

Professor McGonagall knelt down tremblingly, pulled open the old man's sleeves, and saw a slight scar on her hand. She closed her eyes in pain.

"It's...Albus."

The Goblin Professor, whose eyes were already full of tears, sobbed and cried. His figure was swaying and about to fall. He was supported by the equally grieving Professor Sprout and helped him to the side of Professor McGonagall.

"M-Minerva, are you sure?"

The Goblin Professor still refused to give up. After asking, he wiped away his tears, held "Dumbledore's" hand, and identified it carefully.

But when he finished reading it, his face turned completely gloomy.

The old man lying unconscious on the ground had the characteristics of Dumbledore.

The thin scratches on the back of the hand were wounds that Professor McGonagall had accidentally made.

The deep and shallow calluses on the fingertips are the armor gained from growing up with Professor Sprout.

There is a small wine bottle pattern on the wrist bone, which Professor Flitwick also has on his hand. It was the mark he made on each other's head when they drank.

These scratches, calluses, and marks can be easily removed by a wizard, but Dumbledore always thought they were very commemorative and insisted on keeping them. He even specially treated the small wine bottle. Use a charm to keep it there.

Unexpectedly, these traces turned out to be evidence for them to identify the old man's identity.

Professor Flitwick burst into tears, and the other two deans were also weeping silently. They had no intention of paying attention to the students who came around. The other professors were also helpless and surrounded "Dumbledore" in panic.

There was no other way, Dua had no choice but to go up by himself.

He first found the prefects of the four colleges, counted the injured students, and then classified them according to their injuries. If the injuries were serious, he would organize people to take the injured students to the school infirmary. If the injuries were minor, he would take out the potion himself and give it to the students. .

With a professor as the backbone, the students gradually calmed down and took care of the battlefield in an orderly manner. Only occasionally they would quietly glance at the three deans who looked like sculptures, as well as the unconscious Dumbledore.

Professor McGonagall did not dare to dwell in sadness for too long. She raised her hands to wipe away her tears, and tremblingly arranged her hair and clothes. It took twice as long as usual to restore herself to the unsmiling Head of Gryffindor.

Then she turned around and raised her wand.

The night where there were still some voices was completely silent, and there was only the shrill whistling of the night wind.

"All students, line up and go back to the castle!"

Professor McGonagall made a harsher and shriller voice than usual, almost piercing her eardrums.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned around silently. Without urging or giving any other instructions, they formed a neat line and walked into the castle. Professor McGonagall was watching them.

Professor Sprout patted Professor Flitwick on the shoulder. Although his voice was still choked with sobs, his tone was full of calmness and suppressed sadness.

"Be strong, Filius. We can't put all the pressure on Minerva. She's just like us... and she's not feeling well either."

Professor Flitwick looked pale and wiped the tears from his face in a panic. His eyes were as red and swollen as walnuts, but tears continued to pour out. He choked and said, "I know, but I can't control it."

"Look at my brain, I almost forgot about you... Forget it, you go take Albus back to the castle, and I'll help Minerva. Don't worry, Filius, as long as we are still there, Hogwarts will not It will fall."

A trace of determination flashed in the gentle witch's eyes.

"it is good!"

Professor Flitwick rushed over, ignoring the dirt and blood on the ground, and carefully wiped the blood off Dumbledore's face. A string of tears fell uncontrollably, mixed with blood and seeping into the soil.

Dewar followed the large army back to the Hogwarts Castle auditorium. The once magnificent auditorium was affected by the battle. A large piece of the candle floating above his head was empty. The long tables of the four houses were damaged to varying degrees. There were portraits hanging on the walls. Several of them were half-remained, hanging precariously, and the wizards inside had disappeared.

It was a brutal battle.

Duva made a calm assessment, and then followed Slughorn, who came out of nowhere, to the front and stood behind Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall received the head count and injuries from the Gryffindor prefects.

The other two Heads of House also got their Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff statistics.

The headmaster of Slytherin was not here, and the two Slytherin prefects were a little confused. Draco looked at Duva with the statistics table, and after receiving a negative answer, he led the female prefect towards Slughorn. .

Slughorn didn't want to take it and declined in a low voice. Draco couldn't defeat him. In desperation, he shook the statistics table and successfully attracted the attention of Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall braced herself and came forward to persuade him, but the fat old man had to face Slytherin's statistics table with a face that looked like he would die the next second after boarding a pirate ship.

Damn it, he knew trusting Albus was the wrong decision!

The four deans confirmed the number of students and all breathed a sigh of relief. No students died, and the most seriously injured student was only knocked unconscious by falling gravel.

This would definitely be a beautiful counterattack, if nothing happened to Dumbley.

Professor McGonagall gritted her teeth and swallowed the sadness in her heart, walked in front of everyone, raised her wand and used the amplifying spell.

"Today, Hogwarts suffered a sudden catastrophe. I am very happy that you fought back in time to protect yourself and your classmates. No student in this huge college died."

Having said this, Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, her voice dry but powerful.

"Now, I hope you will follow the instructions of the dean and prefects and go back to the lounge to rest."

There was a brief commotion among the students below, which soon disappeared under the pressure of the dean and prefects. Professor McGonagall found Dewar who was about to leave.

"Dewar, you did a good job tonight. I need you to do me a favor now. Slughorn went to notify the Ministry of Magic. Officials from the Ministry of Magic will be here soon. I'm afraid I don't have time to settle Gryffindor. Student, go help the prefects and make them run around."

Duva folded his large alchemy robe and nodded to Professor McGonagall, "I'm very happy."

The students returned to the lounge under the leadership of the dean, professors and prefects, and the auditorium became empty again. Professor McGonagall pinched her hands, tried her best to suppress the emotions that should not have been born, and strode towards the principal's office.

Dewar quickly settled the Gryffindor students. Because of Professor McGonagall's words, he did not leave and stayed in the lounge.