"Once things settle down on your end, remember to come visit Asgard often." Frigga gently tucked a stray strand of hair back behind Yang Luoluo's ear.

"I promise I'll come see you all the time!"

Yang Luoluo was juggling an enormous pile of gifts from the enthusiastic Aesir, barely keeping them from tumbling, but still managed to twist around and flash Frigga a grin.

Loki finally couldn't take it anymore. One reach, and everything in her arms disappeared into his personal space. Yang Luoluo sighed with relief and turned back to say a proper goodbye to Frigga.

Loki gave Heimdall a nod. A burst of prismatic light, and they were gone.

"Ah." Frigga gazed out into the distance, a wistful sigh escaping.

"I really do hope that the next time Luoluo visits, it's in a different capacity."

Heimdall, freshly resurrected, standing right there: "..."

...

Professionals were professional, you had to give them that. Heimdall had set their landing point well outside the populated areas, and even then Yang Luoluo and Loki wandered a few aimless loops before making their way back to the Black family home, just to be safe.

The moment they stepped inside, everyone in the house came rushing over. Yang Luoluo scanned the room and immediately noticed the gaps.

"Where's Harry and the others?"

"Those three went back to school." James Potter answered, but worry had already crept into those eyes.

A few days before, James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Nymphadora Tonks had gone to Gringotts to steal Hufflepuff's Cup. With the goblin Griphook's help, the job had gone smoothly enough.

The one complication was Bellatrix Lestrange's vault: everything inside had been hexed with the Gemino Curse and the Flagrante Curse. It took everything they had to fight through and get their hands on the Cup.

Then, the moment they had it, everything went sideways.

Griphook betrayed them.

That treacherous little — James Potter had nearly bent a nose out of shape with rage — the goblin had never trusted wizards for a single second. Sharp, cunning, and waiting for exactly the right moment to spring the trap. The only reason they'd made it out alive was because James Potter, hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, had managed to hit Griphook with the Imperius Curse just in time.

They'd escaped. Barely, but they'd escaped.

Hufflepuff's Cup was in hand. That left three Horcruxes: Ravenclaw's Diadem, Nagini, and the fragment buried inside Harry's own soul.

There was no time to waste. The trio made the call immediately: back to Hogwarts, find the Diadem.

The battle was nearly here.

Yang Luoluo could smell the storm coming.

...

Elsewhere.

Working off the information Albus Dumbledore had provided, the trio reached the Hog's Head without a hitch. The Avengers' training had made them careful in ways they hadn't been before, and with the pub owner's help, they slipped past every Death Eater without a second glance.

The pub owner, Albus Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth Dumbledore, greeted them with a thorough tongue-lashing, then, because there was nothing else to do, opened the secret passage into Hogwarts for them anyway.

At the other end of the passage, they found Neville Longbottom, battered, bruised, looking like someone had dragged Neville through a war and back. Which, it turned out, was more or less accurate. Through a halting, emotion-charged account, Neville laid out what Hogwarts had become:

Severus Snape had the school under total control. The Carrow siblings, Death Eaters installed as Snape's enforcers, had turned the place into their personal domain, beating students for the smallest infraction. One wrong look and someone got hurt. Hogwarts had gone quiet in all the wrong ways.

But Dumbledore's Army hadn't broken. Every member had retreated into the Room of Requirement, and they'd been making life difficult for the Death Eaters ever since, slipping out, causing chaos, then vanishing again. The Carrows were furious.

When the trio stepped out of the passage, the screams nearly knocked them flat.

"Harry! Harry is back!"

"And Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger!"

In about three seconds, all three of them were buried in a crowd of twenty. People were shaking hands, throwing arms around them, someone was ruffling hair, Harry almost forgot for a moment that this wasn't the aftermath of a Quidditch win.

They stayed long enough for a few quick exchanges, then slipped the Invisibility Cloak back on and left the Room of Requirement. The scar had been prickling steadily the entire time, a constant reminder: not much left.

Out of caution, there was still the memory of what had happened to Cho Chang, dosed with Veritaserum by Umbridge and unable to hold back the truth, the trio said nothing to the others about the Avengers or Albus Dumbledore being alive. That secret held.

They needed Professor Minerva McGonagall.

They knew the way without thinking. The corridor outside the office was silent, the kind of silence that felt wrong, because what used to fill it was kids being loud and careless and alive, and now there was nothing.

"It'll be over soon." Ron Weasley said it quietly, catching the look on Harry's face. Hermione Granger didn't say anything, just rested a hand briefly on Harry's shoulder.

"...Yeah."

A slow breath. Then Harry raised a hand and knocked.

The door swung open with a creak. Professor Minerva McGonagall stepped out, glanced left and right, found nothing, and was about to close it again, then paused, as if something clicked, and stepped to the side. A breath of displaced air drifted past. The door closed.

A few quick flicks of the wand, and the corridor was warded against eavesdropping.

"Potter? Weasley and Granger as well, I'd imagine." A beat. "I suspected it would be you."

The trio lowered the Invisibility Cloak. Professor Minerva McGonagall began to smile, and then the smile died.

"What are you doing back here? Hogwarts is the most dangerous place in the country right now. For you, specifically."

"Professor, we had to come back."

Harry's chin was set. That look that meant the argument was already over.

Professor Minerva McGonagall opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Then exhaled, waved them toward chairs, and sent three cups of hot cocoa drifting through the air toward them.

"All right. Tell me what you need to do."

There was no reason to hold anything back, not from this professor, not from the head of their house. The three of them talked for a long time, taking it from the beginning, laying out everything.

"Albus... and Black... and Potter..."

Professor Minerva McGonagall gripped the front of her robes, knuckles white, face flooded with something that looked very much like relief.

"So you're here for Ravenclaw's Diadem." A pause. "Oh, Merlin. Thank goodness the Sword of Gryffindor wasn't touched."

Harry nodded. Before leaving the Room of Requirement, Neville had been pulled aside and asked to quietly move everyone out, and without a single question, Neville had said yes.

"Go." Professor Minerva McGonagall stood. Looking at these three, the ones who had caused more grey hairs and more pride than could be counted, for the first time in a long while, the smile that came was easy.

"Do what you have to do. The rest of us will be here. We'll keep the school safe."

...

With that, the trio moved.

They knew where they were going. When they reached the corridor outside the Room of Requirement, they stopped.

Someone was already there. Two someones: the Carrow siblings, standing guard.

The trio pressed back behind a pillar, cloaked and still, watching.

"Those little brats kept coming from right here?"

"You think there's some kind of hidden space?" Alecto kicked the wall, with no idea of having just described it exactly.

Amycus, leaning against the opposite wall, seemed sharper.

"We've been hunting them for months. There's no way they just show up out of nowhere like this. Unless..."

The two of them looked at each other.

"It's Harry Potter?!"

The fanaticism on Amycus's face was unmistakable. And the hand was moving, toward the forearm, toward the skull-and-serpent branded into the skin.

They were out from behind the pillar before the thought was even finished.

"Crucio!"

The Avengers had taught them well.

When the moment came, you didn't hesitate.

Three curses cut through the air toward the Carrows, but it was already too late. Through the writhing, through the screaming, Amycus pressed down on the Dark Mark.

The scar erupted.

Harry felt it like fire ripping across the forehead, and beneath it, suddenly surging up, a wave of savage, exultant joy.

Not its own. Harry knew that immediately.

"You, what have you—"

Professor Minerva McGonagall was in the corridor, lips trembling. Harry hadn't even heard anyone follow. For a fraction of a second, the professor just stood there, then moved with absolute efficiency, using the Imperius Curse to strip the Carrows of their wands, conjuring a thick rope, binding both of them so thoroughly that neither one was going anywhere.

Done. The professor turned.

Harry's face was white.

"Professor." The voice was steady, at least. "You and the other professors need to evacuate the students. All of them. As fast as you can."

A beat.

"Lord Voldemort is coming."

➤ Next: Lord Voldemort Is Coming

Chapter 74 - Lord Voldemort Is Coming

"What... what did you say?"

Professor McGonagall staggered back a step in disbelief. Behind her, the Dumbledore's Army members who had followed in secret appeared, along with a handful of curious students who had drifted over to watch.

For some reason, seeing Professor McGonagall's alarm settled Harry down instead.

"I said, Lord Voldemort is coming." A swallow, and then each word repeated with perfect clarity.

This time Professor McGonagall didn't even have a chance to react. The students behind her were already screaming, scattering blindly, dissolving into complete chaos.

Amid all those terrified faces, a handful of expressions stood out, eager, lit up with excitement. The Dumbledore's Army members, who had been chafing under the recent oppression, looked ready.

Then the screaming stopped. All at once.

The students flushed red as if seized by the throat, mouths working uselessly, unable to produce a single sound.

A dark, bat-like figure swept through the frozen crowd and walked into the center.

"I heard." The figure raised a left arm branded with the Dark Mark and looked toward Harry. "That Harry Potter has returned."

What Severus Snape had not anticipated was that Harry showed none of the anger or fear expected. Instead, those green eyes held an emotion Severus Snape couldn't begin to read.

Severus Snape looked away.

"Severus." Professor McGonagall stepped in front of Harry and the others, one arm extended back to shield them, expression complicated.

She had already learned from Harry that Severus Snape was a double agent. It had relieved her more than she could say, she had no desire to raise a wand against this child she had watched grow up, not if she could help it.

"You know I won't let you take Potter."

Silvery-white light bloomed at the tip of Professor McGonagall's wand. Three tabby cats sprang out and bolted in separate directions. Harry knew immediately: sent to alert the other three Heads of House.

A faint shadow of regret crossed Severus Snape's face. The hand holding the wand moved.

"What a pity, Minerva. You must know this is the Master's order."

"He is your Master, Severus."

Professor McGonagall lifted her chin, and the word "Master" landed with all the contempt she clearly felt for it.

"Severus, you know I don't want to fight you."

Severus Snape found the entire situation utterly absurd. Whether it was Minerva or the three infuriating brats behind her, their eyes all carried that same emotion Severus Snape couldn't decipher, as though he were some long-suffering hero bearing silent burdens.

Absurd.

"I'm sorry," Severus Snape said, face blank. "I'm afraid I can't oblige."

Several spells fired on the last syllable. But Professor McGonagall was faster. An Armour Charm intercepted them before they reached her, and the duel erupted, spectacular and loud.

Spells of every color screamed through the air in dizzying arcs. Honestly, if the students hadn't known this was a fight with death lurking beneath the surface, they might have mistaken it for an extraordinary practical demonstration.

While the two dueled, Harry quickly pulled Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley behind a pillar and shot him a look.

Ron Weasley got it immediately, fumbling into robes to fish out a Galleon, the same kind held by the Dumbledore's Army members, made for passing messages.

Magic channeled in. The Galleon in Ron Weasley's palm went hot in an instant.

...

12 Grimmauld Place.

Peter Parker yelped as something scorched through a pocket, yanked the Galleon out at blinding speed, and spoke, voice tight.

"It's a message from Ron Weasley and the others."

That had been the plan: if they needed backup, Ron Weasley would activate the Galleons to call for help.

"So this is the Galleon that transmits messages?" A hand shot over and plucked it away before Peter Parker could react, turning it over in an open palm, unrestrained curiosity written all over that face.

Peter Parker's mouth twitched.

"Mr. Stark..."

Ever since news of her kidnapping came through, Tony Stark had turned the situation over endlessly, couldn't let it go, and finally dragged Bruce Banner onto a flight to London, officially because the others couldn't be trusted to keep her safe, but everyone present understood perfectly well what the real motivation was.

Tony Stark's fascination with the wizarding world was written plainly on that face, and had been for some time.

"Ahem."

Watching Tony Stark and Bruce Banner pass the Galleon between them like it was a rare artifact, Steve Rogers gave a pointed dry cough.

Tony Stark reluctantly dragged attention away from the Galleon and landed a familiar jab without missing a beat. "A centenarian really ought to look after their health. Wouldn't you agree, Captain?"

Steve Rogers paused.

Though after this much time together, Steve Rogers had worked out the correct method for handling Tony Stark: listen quietly through the teasing, then find an opening to redirect the conversation. Like throwing a punch at cotton, Tony Stark would eventually get frustrated and drop it.

"Alright, everyone." Steve Rogers stood straight, blond hair catching the sunlight. The air around Steve Rogers shifted in that quiet way it did, the kind that made people listen. "I think it's our turn."

"Copy that, Captain!"

...

Strange.

That was the only thought running through Severus Snape's mind during the duel with Professor McGonagall.

By every reasonable measure, as an unforgivable Death Eater attempting to seize the Savior, Severus Snape should consider it a mercy if Minerva held back from a killing curse. And yet, Severus Snape could feel it. Small, barely perceptible, but unmistakable. Restraint in her strikes.

Severus Snape's mind was blank with bewilderment. But the force behind the spells Severus Snape cast quietly softened as well.

Minerva had been both mentor and friend. Unless absolutely necessary, there was no desire to truly hurt her either.

Professor McGonagall felt the change. Casting and deflecting, emotion welled up somewhere beneath the surface.

She had known it. Severus Snape was still the child she had watched grow up. Whatever had come before, there must have been reasons that could not be spoken aloud.

"Minerva!"

A sharp voice cut through the hall. Professor Flitwick and Professor Pomona Sprout pushed through the crowd of students, with the stout Horace Slughorn wheezing close behind.

Professor Flitwick's wand came up at once, and the spells that followed were nothing like Professor McGonagall's quiet restraint. A dueling champion's strikes came fast and precise, every one of them dangerous.

Severus Snape scrambled to dodge, and with no real hope of taking Harry now, simply smashed through a nearby window and fled. Behind, Professor Flitwick's voice rang out across the hall, furious.

"Coward!"

Seizing Harry had only ever been a performance. Dying for it was another matter entirely, and hardly worth the cost.

The students surged to the windows. All they caught was a dark, bat-like silhouette shrinking into the distance, then gone.

"Long live the Head of House!"

Cheers broke out across the hall.

The Heads of House stood together, and they did not cheer. While the students celebrated around them, the four wore the same expression, brows knit, mouths tight, worry pulling at every line of their faces.

"Wh-what happened... hah... Minerva, what — what's going on..." Horace Slughorn braced both hands on knees, chest heaving.

Professor McGonagall's brow stayed furrowed. A brief summary. Just the facts.

"That dark wizard is coming." The sharp intake of breath moved through all of them. "We must lock down the school. Now."

"Potter and the others still have something to finish. We need to buy them time."

"The students must be evacuated as quickly as possible. But any student who wishes to stay and fight — if they are of age — we must give them that choice."

Luna stepped forward from near the back, and her quiet, unhurried voice carried.

"An evacuation passage. I think we can provide one."

"Professor!" Harry suddenly clapped a hand to a forehead, pain flashing across that face. The vision had already come, Lord Voldemort, stride purposeful, furious, closing in. "We have to move. He's almost here!"

The Heads of House looked at one another.

Tension settled into the air like something physical.

"Filius. Pomona. Horace." Professor McGonagall's voice was decisive, no room for hesitation. "Twenty minutes. Bring your students to the Great Hall."

Then a long look at Horace Slughorn.

"It's time for Slytherin to decide where its loyalty lies, Horace."

Horace Slughorn went pale. But the other three were already moving, sweeping off toward their own Houses without another word. Horace Slughorn stood frozen for a moment, jaw working, then bit down and turned toward the dungeons at a run.

➤ Next: Ravenclaw's Diadem