Clutching Severus Snape and Madam Rosier, Gellert Grindelwald didn't hesitate for a moment. He adjusted his trajectory midair and dove toward the battered, smoke-belching magical ark below.
The Founders' Ark loomed larger in their vision. As they closed the distance, the chaotic figures scurrying across the deck became clear. The crew had evidently noticed the three uninvited guests plummeting toward them at alarming speed.
Some pointed skyward in terror, mouths agape as they shouted. Others scrambled desperately for cover.
But through the ship's protective barrier and the howling wind of their descent, Snape heard nothing—only saw a silent pandemonium unfold below.
Grindelwald's speed didn't falter. Just as they were about to collide with the faintly shimmering transparent shield above the ship, a silver token badge flew from Snape's pocket, positioning itself before them.
A faint sensation, like a bubble bursting, rippled through them.
Thanks to the badge, they passed through the barrier without resistance, as if slipping through a warm, elastic film of water.
In an instant, the environment shifted. The roaring wind of the skies vanished, replaced by the cacophony of the deck. Shouts, spell incantations, and the shrill cries of house-elves mingled in a chaotic symphony.
"Enemy attack!"
"Protect the students!"
A few quick-witted individuals—battle-worn adult wizards in casual attire, their eyes sharp with resolve—had already raised their wands instinctively.
In the panic, streaks of red light—Stunning Spells and Disarming Charms—flashed toward the trio with merciless precision.
"Stop!" a voice Snape knew all too well pierced the chaos, shrieking, "It's Severus! Don't attack!"
Lily was the first to break from the crowd. Her face was pale, her emerald eyes brimming with worry and fear. Her red hair fell in disarray, and her robes bore dark smudges of ash.
Ignoring the spells whizzing past, she rushed straight toward Snape.
"Get out of the way!" another voice shouted, trying to push aside those aiming their wands.
Someone hurriedly raised their wand tip an inch, but several spells had already been cast, hurtling toward Grindelwald, Snape, and Madam Rosier.
Amid a chorus of distorted screams, Grindelwald didn't even glance at the incoming curses. He simply set Snape and Madam Rosier down and, with a casual flick of his wand, unleashed his power.
No dazzling light erupted—only an invisible magical force field radiated from him. The incoming spells struck an elastic barrier, flickering briefly about ten feet from Grindelwald before dissipating silently into nothing.
But Lily, charging forward, and a few others too close to the action were caught in the force field's wake. They stumbled back, pushed by the gentle but firm wave, barely regaining their balance.
At that moment, the trio's feet landed firmly on the deck with a soft thud.
In a flash, Lily reached Snape. Ignoring the imposing aura of Grindelwald and the silent Madam Rosier, she seized Snape's arm.
"Are you okay?"
"Are you alright?"
Their voices overlapped, ringing out simultaneously.
Snape gripped Lily's cold hand, scanning her for injuries, relieved to find only dishevelment and fright. Lily, equally anxious, checked him over.
Their eyes darted over each other, confirming no serious harm. The tension in their nerves eased slightly, and a quiet joy of reunion passed between them.
"Young love," Grindelwald's teasing voice broke the moment, shattering the brief tenderness.
Lily snapped back to reality, releasing Snape's hand. A fleeting blush crossed her face as she realized she'd been clinging to him.
"Lily, where's Pandora? How are the others? Any serious casualties? What happened?" Snape's gaze swept the chaotic deck, his words rapid.
He saw shattered railings, scorched spell marks, and several house-elves frantically using magic to repair cracks in the ship's hull.
"We're fine—no deaths!" Lily steadied herself, speaking quickly. "Pandora's okay! She's in the cabins, packing…" Her tone faltered at Pandora's name, a strange hesitation creeping in, followed by an involuntary shudder.
Snape's heart eased, but the oddity in Lily's voice kept him on edge.
Then, leaning closer, she lowered her voice so only he could hear. "Not long ago, some Order of the Phoenix members came aboard seeking refuge. We took them in…" Her voice trembled with lingering fear. "One of them, Sturgis Podmore, caught everyone off guard. He threw something on the floor, and everything went pitch black—an invisibility smoke bomb, probably."
"Professor McGonagall reacted fast and stunned the traitor. But then, a bigger commotion broke out on deck."
"The shield was breached somehow, and masked Death Eaters stormed in. They took two younger students hostage and charged deep into the cabins. It was chaos." Lily's face paled further at the memory. "Thankfully… Pandora, Barty, and Abbott reacted quickly, leading the older students in a counterattack."
"With the professors, we won. We captured a few and saved the students. But the ship…" She glanced worriedly at the smoldering mainsail and the scarred hull.
At that moment, Professor Flitwick emerged from the shaken crowd of older students and Order members, his small face etched with exhaustion. His sharp eyes immediately locked onto the man beside Snape, whose commanding presence and uncanny resemblance to a middle-aged Dumbledore were unmistakable.
Flitwick's gaze flickered with tension, shooting Snape a quick look.
Snape nodded firmly in confirmation.
Flitwick's eyes widened, then narrowed with a knowing gravity. He took a deep breath and inclined his head slightly toward Grindelwald, his demeanor a mix of caution and respect.
Grindelwald coughed softly, the sound carrying clearly across the deck.
All eyes turned to him, filled with awe and uncertainty. The clamor stilled.
His gaze seemed to pierce through the crowd, as if seeing beyond the deck into the ship's depths.
In a hoarse, commanding voice, he ordered, "Now, take me to him."
Snape understood instantly. He murmured to Flitwick, "Professor, I'll leave this to you," and gave Lily a reassuring look that said, Trust me, I've got this. Though worry lingered in her eyes, she nodded.
Snape stepped to Grindelwald's side, gesturing for him to follow, and led him and the ever-silent Madam Rosier toward the ship's interior.
The crowd—Hogwarts students and familiar Order members alike—parted instinctively, clearing a wide path. Grindelwald's invisible, commanding presence and his effortless deflection of spells inspired primal awe in the wizards.
Inside the cabins, the scene was even more harrowing. The corridors reeked of blood and potion fumes.
Though Lily had assured him there were no major losses, Snape's heart sank again. Dark red, still-wet bloodstains splattered the walls and carpets.
"Mipple!" Snape called to a house-elf frantically cleaning a large reddish-brown stain on the carpet. "How many are injured? How bad is it?"
Seeing Snape, Mipple's tennis-ball-sized eyes filled with respect and relief. She bowed deeply. "Honorable Mr. Snape, welcome back! Only… only a couple injured! Professors McGonagall and Prince are handling it."
"Then why all this blood?" Snape frowned, pointing to the sprawling crimson stains.
"These," Mipple's large eyes blinked, her voice dropping to a whisper tinged with fear and awe, "these are… the enemies' blood, sir."
"Who did this?" Snape pressed, unable to imagine who on the ship fought with such ferocity.
Mipple didn't answer, only bowed lower, her large ears twitching nervously.
"Severus." Grindelwald's calm but insistent voice came from ahead.
Since the blood wasn't theirs, Snape pushed down his unease, nodded to Mipple, and hurried to catch up with Grindelwald, guiding him onward.
As they passed the dining hall, the open door revealed a makeshift shelter. Frightened students and minorly injured wizards filled the space. Professor McGonagall stood guard at the entrance, while Eileen Prince directed house-elves to distribute calming draughts and hot cocoa.
When McGonagall saw Snape's group, her gaze locked onto the man resembling a younger Dumbledore.
She strode forward, blocking Snape's path, her eyes scrutinizing Grindelwald's altered features. "Severus, who is this?"
"He's a guest I brought specifically for this," Snape replied quietly. "Professor McGonagall, we're going to see Professor Dumbledore. This man has waited many years…" He didn't name Grindelwald, but the implication was clear.
Grindelwald met McGonagall's wary, probing stare with a faint, enigmatic smile.
Her eyes flicked between Snape and Grindelwald, weighing her options.
Finally, she nodded. "Alright. I'm coming with you."
Grindelwald's smile widened slightly, as if to say, Suit yourself, unbothered by her presence.
He tilted his chin, signaling Snape to lead on.
The group moved silently through the blood-scented, tense corridors, reaching the medical wing's entrance.
Two tense wizards, wands in hand, stood guard—Gideon and Fabian Prewett. They relaxed slightly upon seeing McGonagall and Snape.
Grindelwald's presence sent an invisible pressure over the brothers. They looked to McGonagall for guidance, stepping aside only when she signaled them to move.
Without pause, Grindelwald pushed open the wooden door.
The medical wing was bathed in soft light, scented with soothing herbs. On one side, Albus Dumbledore lay still on a feather mattress, his face pale, his long silver hair and beard neatly arranged, cascading over the white pillow.
His breathing was faint but steady, his chest rising and falling as if lost in a deep, unending dream.
Grindelwald strode purposefully toward the bed, Madam Rosier following silently. McGonagall and Snape trailed behind.
At the bedside, Grindelwald stopped, standing motionless.
He gazed down at the sleeping elder, as if peering through the calm facade to the depths of his soul.
Finally, he spoke to those behind him. "Leave us."
Madam Rosier bowed slightly, then gestured for Snape and McGonagall to follow her out.
McGonagall's lips parted, as if to protest. She glanced at Snape, who shook his head subtly, urging her to trust Grindelwald.
She looked at Dumbledore, then at the imposing stranger, and nodded reluctantly, slowly.
They followed Madam Rosier out of the medical wing.
Snape couldn't resist a final glance back:
Grindelwald stood still, his back to the door.
In that moment, his Transfiguration unraveled.
His short brown hair lengthened and faded, returning to its natural white streaked with silver, falling naturally over his shoulders.
Before Dumbledore, he revealed his true face—weathered, angular, marked by time yet still bearing traces of past glory.
Snape caught fragments of Grindelwald's murmured words, as if speaking to himself or softly confiding to the sleeping man:
"Now… who else… you… Dumbledore…"
The rest was cut off as the door closed.
Click. The lock snapped shut.
The corridor fell silent. Madam Rosier stood like a sentinel at the door, expressionless.
Leaning against the sturdy bulkhead, Snape shook his head lightly, murmuring so only McGonagall could hear:
"Oh, to be old and savor the sting of love again…"
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