The tense atmosphere in the Potions classroom began to cool. Gryffindor students now held Yang Fan in high regard for standing up to Snape. In the school environment, students who dared to challenge a teacher's authority often became heroes to their more rebellious peers. Snape's decision to deduct points from Gryffindor due to Yang Fan's actions only solidified this sense of camaraderie between Yang Fan and the house.
At that moment, there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Snape said in his usual icy tone.
The door opened, and all eyes turned toward the entrance. Professor Karkaroff entered, his fingers twisting his goatee nervously as he strode up to Snape's desk.
"We need to talk," Karkaroff said abruptly. He seemed determined to prevent anyone from overhearing, speaking in a near-whisper that barely moved his lips, like a poor ventriloquist.
"I'll speak with you after class, Karkaroff," Snape replied curtly, but Karkaroff cut him off.
"No, we need to talk now, while you can't escape, Severus. You've been avoiding me."
"After class," Snape snapped, his voice sharp.
Augustus casually added a small drop of toad bile to his cauldron, his silver eyes reflecting Karkaroff's panicked demeanor. If Karkaroff and Snape had pressing matters to discuss at such a crucial moment, it likely pertained to the Dark Lord. Augustus didn't fully understand the mechanics of the Dark Mark that linked Voldemort to the Death Eaters, but he knew the connection was one-sided: the Dark Lord was the anchor. As Voldemort regained his power, the effects on the Mark became increasingly evident.
It seemed Voldemort was another step closer to his legendary resurgence. Augustus smirked faintly at the thought.
Lilian's crimson eyes observed Augustus as she murmured, "The exchange students from China seem very intent on ingratiating themselves with Harry Potter and Gryffindor. At such a critical time in the Triwizard Tournament, their actions are blatantly disruptive to Hogwarts' unity."
Augustus waved a hand dismissively. "On the surface, their intentions may seem obvious, but such overt behavior is merely a smokescreen. Exchange students are temporary presences at best. Their true goal likely lies in accomplishing a specific mission, gaining some form of benefit. Their clumsy actions have already revealed too much. Many at Hogwarts must have noticed by now—it's not our concern."
For the remainder of the lesson, Karkaroff paced restlessly behind Snape's desk, determined not to let him slip away after class.
As the bell rang, Augustus glanced at the agitated Karkaroff and casually left the room. Harry, curious about what Karkaroff wanted to discuss, deliberately knocked over his bottle of toad bile just minutes before the bell.
"What's so urgent?" Harry overheard Snape say in a low voice.
"Look," Karkaroff said, lifting his left sleeve to show something to Snape. Harry, peeking over the edge of his cauldron, saw a glimpse of Karkaroff's arm.
"Well?" Karkaroff said, his tone strained, as if his lips barely moved. "Have you noticed? It's never been this obvious before, not since—"
"Put it away!" Snape hissed angrily, his dark eyes sweeping the room.
"But you must have felt it too—" Karkaroff said anxiously.
"We'll discuss this later, Karkaroff!" Snape snapped, his voice cutting through the air.
Yang Fan and his group walked out of the classroom toward their quarters—three isolated rooms within the castle.
"Time is slipping away too quickly. Today marks the ninth day," Beichen Ke said, his face shadowed with concern. "Although we've earned Dumbledore's and Harry's initial trust, our relations with Hogwarts, especially with Dumbledore's faction, remain shallow. This makes it challenging to leverage the Order of the Phoenix's influence in the event of a team battle."
"And now," Dong Zhen added with a sigh, "our situation is precarious. It's not just the imminent arrival of the Nordic Team—we've completely antagonized Augustus's faction. We underestimated this world's strength. In trying to bolster Harry's influence, we foolishly provoked a conflict. The main system designated Augustus's faction as the third major force for a reason. If they weren't so principled, the Nordic Team wouldn't even need to intervene; we'd already be annihilated."
Yang Fan's resolute expression softened into regret. "The strategic miscalculation is entirely my fault. I've grown complacent from past successes, failing to accurately assess the enemy's strength before initiating conflict. Reflecting on it now, that boy's power rivals Voldemort at his peak or even Dumbledore's current strength. Moreover, his family's status in the wizarding world as this plane's most influential clan would give him an edge over the Nordic Team if he joined Augustus's side."
Han Yi smirked slightly. "Regret won't change anything. We need to focus on dealing with the Nordic Team's impending arrival. Rumors suggest their evaluation in the Resident Evil plane is even higher than the Demon Team's. If our objectives don't conflict, peace might still be an option."
Chen Yao nodded faintly. "Even in a group battle, exchanging resources and making concessions could allow us to coexist with them during this mission."
Beichen Ke sneered. "You're being naive. If the Nordic Team sides with Augustus, they'll see fighting us as the quickest way to gain prestige. And if they ally with Voldemort, their competition with us over Harry will be the perfect spark. Peace? It's almost impossible."
In the dimly lit room, the five exchange students sat in heavy silence, their faces clouded with tension.
That night, on the outskirts of London, the sky was studded with stars. The soft glow of streetlamps illuminated the deserted streets.
The air began to ripple, like an endless pool disturbed by unseen forces. Waves of distortion spread outward until two tall figures emerged, stepping onto the street as if walking on invisible stairs.
Moments later, another figure materialized mid-air. Seated on a lotus-shaped platform, he radiated calm. His flawless golden armor gleamed faintly, complementing his lustrous blond hair and pale, handsome face. A faint, confident smile played on his lips.
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