The image on the second screen, broadcast from the Medusa probe, showed the Chimera's hatch sealing with a silent, perfect precision. Then, the view shifted, rising smoothly as the probe redocked with the ship's exterior. The world was now treated to a breathtaking, panoramic view of the lunar landscape, the silver Artemis beacon a tiny, solitary point of light in the vast, grey desolation. In the black sky above, the Earth hung like a magnificent, impossible jewel.
"Hatch sealed," Ariana's voice announced, calm and professional, cutting through the awestruck silence in the stadium. "Initiating pre-flight systems check for return journey. All systems nominal."
On the first screen, they saw her face inside the helmet, her expression focused as her hands moved over the glowing crystal controls. The hum of the magical engine, broadcast through the communication link, deepened slightly.
"Mission Control, this is Chimera I," she said. "Requesting clearance for lunar ascent."
Hermione, her face still streaked with tears of joy, leaned into the microphone at the console, her voice steady and clear. "Chimera I, this is Mission Control. You are cleared for ascent. Godspeed, Ariana."
"Acknowledged," Ariana replied.
The world watched as the propulsion runes on the underside of the silver vessel began to glow, their blue-white light a stark contrast to the grey lunar dust. With a silent, powerful surge, the Chimera lifted off the surface of the moon, leaving behind only the small, shining beacon and a set of historic footprints in the ancient dust.
The return journey was a quiet, beautiful spectacle, taking the same amount of time and patience. The screens showed the moon shrinking behind them and the Earth growing ever larger, a welcoming beacon of life at the end of a long, dark voyage. The crowd at Hogwarts, their initial, explosive excitement now settled into a deep, reverent awe, watched in near silence. They were no longer just spectators at an event; they were participants in a shared moment of history.
The reactions were deeply personal, quiet moments of profound realization.
Molly Weasley, her arm still around Ginny, whispered, "She's coming home." It was the simple, heartfelt prayer of a mother for a child she had unofficially adopted as her own.
Sirius Black, his arm around Harry's shoulders, felt a joy so fierce it was almost painful. He was watching the daughter of his best friend's legacy achieve something James Potter, in all his reckless brilliance, could only have dreamed of. "She did it, Harry," he murmured. "The cleverest witch of them all."
Remus Lupin simply smiled, his gaze fixed on the image of the approaching Earth. He thought of the bracelets, the cure, the quiet girl who fought darkness not with anger, but with logic and light. He felt a sense of hope for the future of the wizarding world that he hadn't allowed himself to feel in decades.
On the staff platform, Snape watched, his face an unreadable mask. He saw not just a student, but a force of magical and intellectual power that dwarfed his own considerable talents. She had rewritten the rules of potions, curses, and now, apparently, celestial mechanics. He felt a grudging, absolute respect. She was, he had to admit, a worthy heir to the name Dumbledore.
And Dumbledore himself, his old eyes reflecting the blue-white jewel of the Earth on the screen, felt a profound sense of peace. He had spent his long life fighting a war of shadows, carrying the weight of prophecies and dark secrets. But he knew, now, that the future was in better hands. It was in the hands of a generation that was not just brave or loyal, but brilliant, collaborative, and unbound by the prejudices and limitations of the past. He was watching the dawn of a new age, and it was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.
"Re-entry interface in five minutes," Ariana's voice announced, pulling everyone back to the present. "Shield integrity is at one hundred percent. Trajectory is nominal."
The crowd watched as the ship, now a fiery, protected star, streaked through the upper atmosphere. The image on the screen shook slightly, the only sign of the immense forces at play. Then, it stabilized, the familiar blue sky of home filling the view.
The clouds parted. And there, below, was the magnificent, welcoming sight of Hogwarts castle.
The Chimera, its fiery re-entry shield dissipating, descended with the same silent, impossible grace with which it had launched. It glided over the stands, a sleek, silver promise fulfilled, and settled gently in the exact center of the Quidditch pitch with a soft, final sigh.
For a moment, there was absolute silence. Then, the entire stadium erupted.
A hundred thousand witches and wizards leaped to their feet, their cheers and applause a thunderous, unified roar of pure joy, pride, and wonder. It was a sound that shook the very foundations of the old castle, a sound of a world celebrating a hero who had not defeated a dark lord, but had given them the stars.
The ramp of the Chimera lowered.
Ariana appeared at the top, her helmet now retracted. She stood there, bathed in the adulation of the entire wizarding world, her honey-blonde hair a halo in the magical lights of the stadium. Her face was calm, her expression serene. She looked at the cheering crowds, at the proud faces of her teachers, at the weeping, laughing faces of her family and friends.
She walked down the ramp, each step firm and certain. She had left this world behind, and now she had returned, bringing a new universe of possibilities with her. The journey was over. The mission was a success. And as she stepped back onto the familiar green grass of the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, she knew, with a quiet, logical certainty, that this was not an ending. It was the beginning of everything.