The noise and cries of the entire crowd were instantly cut off by Dumbledore's voice, which boomed like winter thunder as he shouted, "Alastor!"
The "Moody" who was about to support Harry froze like a stone, his madly spinning magical eye locked dead on Dumbledore, filled with shock and confusion.
He wanted to move, but found he couldn't even lift a finger.
Dumbledore didn't even give him a second glance.
"Severus!"
His voice was loud and clear, echoing across the edge of the Quidditch Pitch.
Snape stepped out from the chaotic crowd, his black robes billowing in the night wind. There was no surprise on his face, only a somber expression that suggested he had anticipated everything.
In his hand, he held a small crystal vial containing a colorless, transparent liquid.
Veritaserum.
"Minerva," Dumbledore turned to Professor McGonagall, who had hurried over, "please bring that big black dog from my office. I'm sure he would very much like to witness this moment personally."
Professor McGonagall's lips twitched, but in the end, she simply nodded firmly and turned to walk away quickly.
The Minister for magic, Cornelius Fudge, finally recovered from his shock. His face flushed red as he stammered, "Dumbledore! What are you doing? Alastor is my friend! You can't..."
Dumbledore finally turned his gaze toward him, but quickly looked away.
"Alright, children, leave this place. What follows is a matter for adults."
A mere fake Moody couldn't cause even the slightest ripple in front of Dumbledore and Snape.
Hermione and Lia returned to the dormitory together.
Having known the outcome for a long time, they weren't worried at all.
They would leave things to Dumbledore. With the greatest Wizard of the century, the White Wizard Dumbledore, taking action, the matter was settled before the young Wizards even got wind of it.
The closing feast of the Triwizard Tournament was held in an unprecedentedly oppressive atmosphere.
The Great Hall was devoid of the usual banners representing the various houses; instead, pitch-black drapes hung from the ceiling to the floor, like a grand funeral.
Students whispered among themselves, every face etched with fear and sorrow.
Cedric Diggory was dead, and Lord Voldemort had returned.
These two pieces of news weighed on everyone's hearts like two great mountains.
The Hufflepuff table was empty; their students could not accept the reality and refused to attend the feast.
Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, his face bloodless, unable to eat a single bite.
Hermione and Ron stayed by his side, while Lia, as usual, pressed close to Hermione, quietly sensing for any abnormal magic fluctuations.
Dumbledore stood before the podium, the golden owl-shaped lectern looking exceptionally solemn behind him.
The Great Hall fell silent instantly.
"Tonight, we have experienced a terrible tragedy."
Dumbledore's voice, amplified by magic, reached every corner of the Great Hall, heavy and clear.
"Cedric Diggory, an outstanding, brave, and upright Hogwarts Champion, was attacked by Lord Voldemort."
He used no euphemisms, speaking the name directly.
A wave of suppressed gasps and sobs rippled through the students.
"The Ministry of Magic does not wish for me to tell you this," Dumbledore continued, his gaze sweeping across the room. "However, I believe I have a responsibility to tell you the truth. Hiding the truth will only make us more vulnerable in the darkness to come."
His words were like a hammer striking everyone's hearts. The atmosphere in the Great Hall was oppressive to the extreme, with sorrow and fear lingering like a thick fog.
Just then—
"Creeeeak—"
The heavy oak doors of the Great Hall were slowly pushed open.
A figure stood at the entrance, silhouetted against the light from the corridor, looking somewhat frail. He was wearing Hogwarts hospital pajamas, his face pale, and his eyes filled with the daze of a survivor.
Everyone's eyes were drawn to him.
Time stood still for a second.
Then, at the Gryffindor table, Harry stood up, his chair knocking over with a sharp, loud crash.
His lips trembled, and his eyes were filled with unbelievable ecstasy.
"Cedric!"
That single shout was like a massive stone thrown into stagnant water, instantly detonating the entire Great Hall!
The Hufflepuff students, those who had been waiting outside the Great Hall unwilling to enter, were the first to let out a thunderous scream as they rushed in like mad, heading for that figure.
"Merlin's food-grade, skin-friendly, 3-speed, 6-frequency...! He's alive!"
"Cedric! You're alive!"
The entire Great Hall erupted! Every student stood up!
Cedric Diggory, the Champion who had been declared dead, stood there completely intact!
Dumbledore, standing at the podium, showed the first genuine smile of the night. He raised his hand and gave a gentle wave.
The black drapes symbolizing mourning faded away, replaced by the bright, dazzling yellow and black representing Hufflepuff!
Countless ribbons and stars drifted down from the magical ceiling, and the entire Great Hall became as bright as day!
The oppression and sorrow were swept away, replaced by the incomparable ecstasy and exhilaration of having survived a disaster!
Cedric was surrounded by his classmates. He scratched his head, looking a bit overwhelmed, a bashful smile on his face.
"I... I don't know what happened," his voice came through clearly via Dumbledore's magic. "I only remember a green light, then a warmth in my chest, and then I didn't know anything. When I woke up, I was in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey said it was a protective charm Professor Dumbledore left on me that saved my life."
He looked at Dumbledore, his eyes full of gratitude.
Then, his gaze moved past the crowd and landed on Harry.
"But what Harry said is true," Cedric's voice became serious. "I saw it, in that graveyard. Lord Voldemort... he really has returned."
The feverish cheering faltered for a moment, but only for an instant.
The joy of survival triumphed over the fear of the future.
So what if Lord Voldemort was back? One of their Champions had survived the Killing Curse! It was a victory!
The feast turned completely into the wildest celebration party in Hogwarts history, co-hosted by Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.
Lia was buffeted by this tidal wave of emotion. She watched Cedric being tossed high into the air, saw Harry embracing Ron excitedly, and looked at Hermione beside her, who was weeping with joy.
She turned her head and buried her face in the crook of Hermione's neck, taking a deep breath of the scent that always put her at ease.
The war wasn't over, but tonight, they had won... On the Hogwarts Express back home, the atmosphere was completely different from when they had arrived.
The carriages were filled with the noise of survivors and spirited discussions about the future.
Cedric's "return from the dead" had given everyone a shot in the arm.
In the compartment shared by Lia, Hermione, Harry, and Ron, the atmosphere was relatively quiet.
Harry recounted everything that had happened in the graveyard—Priori Incantatem, the spirits of his parents... He was no longer the boy crushed by guilt; Cedric's survival had washed away his heaviest shackles.
Lia leaned on Hermione's shoulder, her tail idly brushing against Hermione's calf.
The plot of the triwizard cup, Barty Crouch Jr.'s disguise, Lord Voldemort's resurrection, Cedric's fake death... it was all in the past.
The train was carrying them away from that Castle full of danger and wonders.
When the train pulled into King's Cross Station, the platform was crowded with wizarding parents who had come to meet them.
Lia followed Hermione out of the carriage and immediately spotted an ordinary couple in the crowd who looked somewhat out of place.
The Grangers.
They saw Hermione, relieved smiles appearing on their faces, and then their gaze naturally fell upon the girl with cat ears and a cat tail beside her.
Mrs. Granger gave Lia a gentle smile, one she had clearly grown accustomed to.
"Lia, welcome home."
This simple sentence made Lia's heart instantly soften.
In the car ride home, the London streetscape flew past the window, and everything from the wizarding world was sealed away behind Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
For Lia, this wasn't moving away, but returning.
The car stopped in front of a typical English two-story house with red brick walls and a small garden.
Hermione opened the front door.
The warm scent of books, disinfectant, and dinner food wafted toward them.
Lia took a deep breath, and every muscle in her body relaxed.
She followed Hermione up the stairs, familiarly pushing open the door to Hermione's room.
The room was just as it had always been—one wall was a bookshelf reaching to the ceiling, textbooks and parchment were neatly stacked on the desk, and pink sheets covered the bed.
The door clicked shut behind them.
All the noise, danger, and conspiracies of the outside world were completely shut out by this door.
Lia could no longer hold herself up; she fell straight backward, sinking softly into Hermione's arms.
Hermione caught her steadily, pulling her close in the process.
"Exhausted, aren't you?" Hermione's voice was low and gentle.
Lia didn't speak, she just buried her face in Hermione's shoulder, nuzzling her skin with the tip of her nose to confirm her owner's scent.
Her tail unconsciously wrapped around Hermione's waist, tightening more and more.
The long-standing threat of death had required constant vigilance.
Only here, in Hermione's arms, in this room that belonged only to her, did her sense of security reach its maximum.
Hermione leaned down and kissed the tips of her cat ears. "We're home."
Lia looked up, her sky-blue eyes shimmering with moisture, reflecting Hermione's clear face.
She reached out her arms, hooking them around Hermione's neck, pulling her down forcefully to meet her in a kiss filled with endless dependence and longing.
There was no lust in this kiss, only the relief of surviving and the cherishing of what had been reclaimed.
After a long time, their lips parted.
Lia lay against Hermione's chest, listening to that steady, powerful heartbeat, and let out a long, satisfied sigh.
"Hermione..." her voice was thick with a nasal quality, soft and sweet as if acting spoiled, "I want to take a bath."
"Alright, let's go together."
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