The Order of the Phoenix had arrived.
Harry looked up and saw Sirius and Lupin flying in the sky. It seemed like they were riding something, though Harry couldn't see it, making their posture look somewhat comical.
The others, however, could clearly see the Thestrals they were riding. Although these skeletal-winged horses looked terrifying, they weren't particularly strong. But the people riding them were a different story.
The Order of the Phoenix was unlike the Death Eaters. Though they were fewer in number, almost every one of them was highly skilled, especially the Heads of Houses.
"What the..!"
Sirius spotted Bellatrix standing close to Harry from a distance, and his heart immediately tensed up, worrying that Harry had been taken hostage.
'Voldemort might be using Harry's life to threaten Cyrus!'
Without hesitation, Sirius leapt from the Thestral's back, initiating a short-range Apparition. It was as if he was flying through a misty cloud, his own body seemingly becoming part of the mist. As he rapidly descended, his form had barely solidified when he whipped out his wand, transforming it into a lashing whip aimed at Bellatrix.
"Stay away from my godson!"
Sirius knew all too well the nature of his sister. He attacked without a second thought. But Bellatrix wasn't easy to deal with. She sidestepped the whip and immediately stepped forward, pressing her curved wand against Sirius's throat.
"Open your eyes and take a good look, dear brother. We're on the same side now!" Bellatrix said, her tone playful, her face twisted with a manic grin.
"You?" Sirius's voice rose in disbelief, his pupils dilating. "On our side?"
Sirius's expression was one of utter disbelief, as if he'd just heard a story about a mouse becoming a bridesmaid for a cat.
"It's true, Sirius!" Harry quickly called out.
Harry didn't know much about Bellatrix's past, but he clearly understood that Cyrus was locked in a fateful duel with Voldemort at that moment.
He didn't want Bellatrix and Sirius to fight, fearing it would weaken their side's already limited forces.
"Let it go, Sirius," Cyrus said softly without turning around. Somehow, his voice carried the same quiet authority as Dumbledore's, making it difficult to argue with.
Sirius immediately released his grip on his wand and turned to face Voldemort. With just one glance, his eyes widened in shock.
Voldemort had truly returned!
That terrifying form, like a demon!
What Sirius didn't know was that Voldemort was just as shocked. His snake-like pupils, narrowed like a cat's, stared at Sirius and the others who had descended from the Thestrals. He didn't know what to say.
Did he wake up to find himself fighting alongside the Order of the Phoenix?
For a brief moment, he felt like cutting his own throat and crawling back into his grave to lie down for a few more days.
"Harry, are you alright?" Professor McGonagall had also dismounted from her Thestral. The elderly cat animagus rushed to Harry's side, anxiously looking him over, fearful that he might be hurt even slightly.
However, the wounds on Harry's body had already been healed by the healing spells Cyrus had embedded in the fire shield, so he only looked a bit disheveled with his torn clothes. Harry wasn't the type to make a fuss over minor injuries.
"I'm fine, but Voldemort..." Harry glanced toward Voldemort, conflicted.
If it weren't for him, this terrifying dark lord wouldn't have been resurrected. Harry felt a deep sense of guilt but also helplessness.
"Professor, has Headmaster Dumbledore arrived?" Harry asked quickly.
At this, Professor McGonagall wore a troubled expression.
"Dumbledore was delayed by something. We've tried to contact him. Don't worry, Harry, we'll make sure you get back safely," Lupin said gently. His words carried a calming, gentle strength, meant to reassure. But at this moment, words seemed to have little effect.
Harry wasn't concerned about his own safety. His real fear was that if they didn't manage to kill Voldemort tonight, this terrifying figure would once again bring disaster to the wizarding world.
"I believe—" Snape, who had been silent this whole time, suddenly spoke.
Harry jumped at the sound of his voice, only now realizing that Snape was standing just beside him.
"—this is hardly the time for your reunion," Snape muttered in his usual cold tone. He stepped forward to stand behind Cyrus, raising his wand. He looked like a living corpse—capable of moving, thinking, but utterly numb.
At some point, the flames had died down. Snape glanced at the people lying on the ground. The Dark Marks on their arms had disappeared, replaced by a spiraling symbol, resembling smoke or a towering structure.
Upon Snape's reminder, Sirius and the others shifted their focus to Voldemort and the Death Eaters behind him. As the flames died down, the Death Eaters who had pledged allegiance to Cyrus stood up, raising their wands.
However, compared to the opposing side, their presence was much weaker.
Most of them were unremarkable, barely useful. To be honest, Voldemort didn't even care to spare them a second glance.
But Snape... ever since he had appeared, Voldemort's gaze had lingered on him from the corner of his eye.
"So, Severus, you've betrayed me as well?"
Voldemort had always valued Snape, much like Barty Crouch Jr.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have placed Snape at Hogwarts as a spy.
Both sides knew Snape was a double agent, and both believed he was loyal to them.
Even after Voldemort's first downfall, when Dumbledore vouched for Snape, Voldemort hadn't believed that Snape had betrayed him.
But tonight, Snape hadn't rushed to celebrate his rebirth.
"That... was over ten years ago. ..You broke the promise you made to me," Snape said, his voice calm yet seething with a deep, quiet anger—like a slow-moving but bottomless river.
"She was just a girl, Severus. You told me you had moved on. There are plenty of good women in this world," Voldemort replied dismissively.
Harry, overhearing this, was shocked by such an intense revelation.
He couldn't help but glance at Snape. From their conversation, it sounded as though Snape had once loved a woman—something Harry could never have imagined.
How could anyone associate Snape with the concept of love?
Now, though, Harry was intensely curious about who that woman might have been.
Harry couldn't help but glance at Sirius, hoping his godfather might have some answers, but Sirius didn't know either. He was aware of Snape's past friendship with Lily, but they had drifted apart after Snape publicly insulted her, calling her a Mudblood.
Who could have imagined someone's love could run so deep?
Every move Snape made was under Voldemort's scrutiny, but Snape did not flinch, staring directly into Voldemort's eyes. However, Snape's wand subtly shifted, pointing toward Cyrus's back.
Voldemort understood immediately.
Snape was putting on a show.
This spy was still loyal to his true master!
The words he had just spoken were meant for Cyrus and the others to hear.
As soon as Voldemort gave the order, Snape would betray Cyrus and strike from behind!
Voldemort, who had never understood love, couldn't fathom unwavering devotion. He had no idea that everything Snape had said came from the depths of his heart. To Voldemort, it seemed only logical that Snape's current behavior was what made sense—after all, why would anyone remain attached to a dead woman, especially one who had been someone else's wife?
He sent Snape a signal, telling him to hold off.
Now was not the time to expose Snape. With his current strength, Voldemort was confident he could kill Cyrus on his own. Snape, his hidden weapon, would be best reserved for Dumbledore.
So, Snape's wand shifted once again.
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