Chapter Text
"Dumbledore's Army is still recruiting."
Severus Snape swept through the corridors of Hogwarts, his billowing cloak rippling behind him. With a flick of his wrist, he vanished the bold red slogan on the wall without breaking stride.
A group of students, fresh from a Muggle Studies class, shuffled along the corridor, their expressions dull with disinterest. But the moment they spotted Snape’s looming figure, the moving crowd halted as if a cork had been shoved into a fountain. A few stragglers who had been walking ahead quickly pressed themselves against the walls, watching him pass with a mixture of fear and loathing.
Snape, his gaze fixed straight ahead, weaved through the students. He turned left, then right, and finally stopped in front of a tapestry. The woven scene depicted a wizard in flowing robes performing an elaborate ballet with a club-wielding troll.
Across from him, in front of a blank stone wall, a small group had gathered.
"Headmaster."
A Slytherin student greeted him with a respectful nod. Snape barely acknowledged it before speaking, his tone dry. "So this is the grand discovery you insisted was worth my time? Analyzing the architectural aesthetics of a Hogwarts designer who has been dead for a thousand years?"
"Headmaster, we've been tracking them for days—the vandals, the traitors who oppose the Dark Lord’s cause, the filth who steal magic. They’re hiding behind this wall. I saw that blood traitor, Longbottom, walk right through!"
“Then why,” Snape hissed, “have they not been caught?”
"The wall is enchanted. We haven't found a way to break through yet. Those rats are cowering behind it, no doubt trembling at the mere sight of us blocking the entrance." Amycus Carrow emerged from the shadows, idly twirling his wand between his fingers, his expression one of cruel delight—he had likely just finished punishing a few unruly students with the Cruciatus Curse.
On the other side of the wall, within the Room of Requirement, members of D.A. listened to the voices outside, seething with fury.
"I say we storm out and fight them! Catch them off guard and take down this pack of Death Eaters and their little apprentices all at once!" Seamus Finnigan said heatedly, quickly earning murmurs of agreement.
"Calm down, Seamus." Neville’s voice wasn’t loud, but it commanded attention, and the murmurs died down immediately. "They have two fully trained adults on their side. Even if we fought tooth and nail, the best we could hope for is mutual destruction. And we are Hogwarts’ last line of resistance. If we fall, the school falls completely into Death Eater control. We have to preserve our forces."
"But if they keep waiting outside, we’ll be trapped until we waste away."
"Then we need a plan. A real one."
The D.A. members fell into a heated discussion, each arguing their own strategy. Suddenly, Cho Chang stepped forward and addressed the group.
"Before coming to Hogwarts, I attended a Muggle school. My mother used to tell me bedtime stories... I mean, in Chinese military strategy, there is a tactic called ‘feint east, strike west’."
Meanwhile, Snape stood in front of the small group, listening to their plans to ambush the students inside. His irritation swelled to the point of bursting. Rash, foolish brats. Always trapped themselves in a situation and left the mess for him to clean up.
"Then take shifts and guard the entrance properly," Snape ordered, his patience wearing thin. "Amycus, you are the D.A.D.A. professor. Breaking through this enchantment is your responsibility."
He was about to leave—perhaps to find Minerva and have her disperse these blockheads—when the stone wall before them began to shift. Patterns of a door emerged from its surface, and before they could react, the door swung open to reveal a group of students, wands raised.
"Damn it." Snape barely had time to raise his own wand. A silent Protego shielded the students beside him just as colorful spells began to shoot through the air, illuminating the chaotic battle.
In the midst of the melee, another group suddenly emerged behind the Slytherins, flanking them alongside the D.A. members from the Room of Requirement.
"Expelliarmus!" A brilliant red light streaked towards Snape from behind, hitting him square in the chest. His body lifted off the ground, hurtling backward. He braced himself to crash into the solid stone wall—only to pass through it entirely, swallowed by darkness.
Just before he lost consciousness, he heard a mocking voice sneer, "Look at him fly—just like a giant, greasy bat."