This sudden turn of events left everyone completely stunned, frozen in place with shock!
Krum jerked his head around sharply, looking toward the direction from which the deadly branches had shot, trying desperately to understand what had just saved his life at the last possible second.
His heart was still pounding from how close that Killing Curse had been.
On the hedge wall where the branches originated, a large wooden door had silently appeared, emerging as if it had always been there, as if the hedge had simply opened up.
From within the dark opening, a little Treant, only half the height of a human and far smaller than the massive ones Krum had encountered earlier, stepped forth carefully on its wooden feet.
At the same time, those lethal branches that had killed the Death Eater rapidly withdrew with a hissing sound—clearly the work of the Treant standing now in front of them, pulling them back like retractable claws into its body.
This was none other than the Treant called Flick.
Immediately after, before anyone could fully process this miraculous intervention, Adrian and Dumbledore appeared on the scene one after another, emerging from the doorway with swift steps.
Adrian's robes were slightly disheveled, indicating they'd been running.
Before losing consciousness, before the darkness finally overwhelmed him completely, Harry's fading awareness caught sight of that familiar tall figure, and the thread of tension that had been stretched to its absolute limit in his heart finally relaxed completely, snapping like an overtightened string.
Professor Westeros... Professor Dumbledore...
Saved... we're saved... it's over...
The world went black, and Harry collapsed.
In fact, after Adrian and Dumbledore had returned from the courtyard earlier, after finding only the broken wand, they had already learned of the Death Eaters' invasion of the maze from the panicked reports of Nearly Headless Nick and other ghosts.
However, that strange unnatural fog had covered the entire maze like a suffocating blanket, and with the broadcast screens also malfunctioning completely, showing only still scenes and occasionally going dark, they had no way of knowing anyone's exact location and could only search aimlessly.
Adrian somewhat regretted suggesting to Dumbledore months ago that they expand the maze's area with Extension Charms to make it more challenging.
That decision was coming back to haunt them now.
What made matters even worse was that this maze was deliberately dynamic, constantly shifting its paths every few minutes.
There were no fixed correct routes at all, no stable paths to follow or map.
Combined with the fog's complete obstruction of visibility and magical detection, far from blocking the invaders as originally intended, it had actually caused the rescuers some serious trouble instead, slowing them down.
Fortunately, Dumbledore quickly found a way to disperse the fog inside.
Seeing Dumbledore's arrival, his wand raised, the originally aggressive Death Eaters instantly fell silent, frozen in place as if paralyzed by sudden fear.
This was perfectly normal—everyone in the wizarding world knew how formidable Albus Dumbledore was in actual combat, what he could do.
The experiences of years past, the stories of the first war, of single-handedly defeating groups of Death Eaters, were still fresh in memory for those who'd survived them.
For a moment, no one dared make any rash moves or even speak or breathe loudly.
Adrian's attention shifted immediately to Harry lying crumpled on the ground in a pool of blood.
Upon seeing Harry's missing right forearm, the stump which was still bleeding little, Adrian furrowed his brow with concern and some anger at himself.
"It seems we arrived a bit late," He said softly, his voice tight.
Honestly, losing a hand wasn't particularly serious for a wizard—as long as they could reattach it in time with proper healing magic and blood-replenishing potions...
Adrian glanced at the blackened severed limb lying on the ground nearby, still pulsing with dark curse energy.
Well, reattachment was clearly not an option here. Harry might need to figure out how to grow an entirely new arm instead.
Shalala could help with that.
At that moment, among the five Death Eaters standing at the entrance, the most ferocious-looking man with a hideous scar across his entire face that pulled his facial features into a permanent sneer suddenly flashed a glint of desperate madness in his bloodshot eyes.
He knew with certainty that facing Dumbledore and this powerful looking stranger together, surrendering would most likely lead to certain death or the Dementor's Kiss—better to fight desperately and die fighting with some dignity!
Take one of them down with him!
"Avada Kedavra!" He roared hoarsely, his voice was cracking.
The Death Eater roared as he raised his wand with shaking hands, dazzling green light shooting directly toward Adrian's seemingly unguarded back with deadly intent!
Adrian merely shifted slightly to the side with minimal movement, dodging the deadly curse easily as if he'd known it was coming, as it shot past his shoulder.
The green light struck the hedge behind him, leaving a smoking, blackened hole.
He shook his head slightly in disappointment at the amateur attempt. This Death Eater was clearly not particularly skilled in actual combat—his casting preparation time was extremely long, and obvious.
Or perhaps years of imprisonment in Azkaban, years of Dementor exposure, had significantly diminished his combat abilities and reflexes to the point of uselessness.
In any case, even with the enhancement of the Unforgivable Curse's raw power, this Death Eater posed absolutely no threat at all to Adrian.
Dumbledore's gaze swept over the two 'corpses' on the ground, Rookwood pierced by branches and the flattened Bellatrix who seemed to be breathing before finally settling on the five living people before him with disappointment.
He spoke calmly, "Lower your wands, gentlemen. Resistance is futile and will only result in—"
Before he could finish his sentence completely, another sudden change occurred!
A gray-white fog, far denser and more viscous than before, seemingly alive and perception and anger, surged from all directions without warning, instantly swallowing everyone's field of vision completely!
'This again?' Adrian thought with frustration and alarm.
Adrian's expression showed some fluctuation, concern crossing his features as he moved his wand at top speed, levitating the unconscious Harry carefully to hover beside him protectively.
Honestly, he had never seen such bizarre magic in all his years of study and research.
This fog seemed to appear out of thin air—its source was completely untraceable, no point of origin that he could detect.
But without question, it was definitely something these Death Eaters or their master Voldemort had conjured for escape.
This fog was much thicker than what they had encountered at the beginning of the invasion, almost solid. Bone-chillingly cold, it not only blocked all vision completely but even seemed to absorb sound itself, rendering the surroundings deathly silent like a tomb.
It provided complete sensory deprivation.
Dumbledore gave a soft snort of annoyance at this scene, and his Wand moved again, this time with a slightly larger, more forceful motion.
From its tip burst forth golden light as dazzling as a miniature sun, illuminating everything in intense radiance.
The dense fog, as if lit by the actual sun, as if it were a living thing that feared light, rapidly dissolved and retreated from the golden glow.
Vision became clear once more, the world was returning to focus.
However, in those few short seconds of fog interference and complete blindness...
The Death Eaters had already vanished without a trace, escaped into nothing. Bellatrix's crushed body on the ground had also disappeared as if evaporated or collected, leaving only a few spots of dark blood on ground where she'd been.
Only the Death Eater pierced by Flick's poisonous branches remained at the scene.
They had actually used this bizarre fog to forcibly escape right under Dumbledore's nose!
An impressive feat of magic, however cowardly the execution.
Dumbledore frowned deeply, his expression looking troubled, closing his eyes to sense for a moment, reaching out with his magic to feel for their traces.
His brow furrowed deeper.
"That fog can somehow break through Hogwarts' anti-Apparition restrictions," He said in conclusion, opening his eyes. "They're no longer at Hogwarts. They've fled far from here, beyond my ability to track right now."
Adrian walked over to the remaining corpse, carefully examining the unfamiliar, poison-twisted face with interest. "Can you identify him, Professor Dumbledore? Do you know this man?"
"Augustus Rookwood," Dumbledore said heavily, his voice was filled with disappointment.
Dumbledore's gaze fell upon the face, slightly distorted from toxin corrosion, his voice was low and grim.
"Long ago, before the first war, he was an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, trusted with the Ministry's deepest secrets. Later, he was exposed by Karkaroff during his own trial as Voldemort's spy within the Ministry and was ultimately sent to Azkaban for life without possibility of release."
He paused, his expression darkening further with memory.
"If I'm not mistaken," He continued slowly, "among those who escaped just now was Antonin Dolohov, one of Voldemort's most brutal and experienced followers... and unfortunately, we failed to capture Bellatrix Lestrange, perhaps his most fanatical and unstable supporter."
His tone showed he knew all three well.
Adrian didn't seem particularly surprised by this information, merely nodding in acknowledgment of the names.
Without doubt, they were all dangerous Death Eaters who had escaped from Azkaban in the mass breakout earlier.
And that fog—magic of such sophistication and raw power was most likely prepared specifically for them by Voldemort himself in advance.
Adrian's attention returned to the unconscious Harry hovering nearby at shoulder height. He crouched down, carefully examining Harry's severed arm with focus, checking carefully for curse residue or poison.
"A slight trace of curse residue around the wound... oh, very good. It looks like there's no serious problem now. The curse didn't spread beyond the limb. He acted quickly enough and decisively."
After checking his condition thoroughly, running multiple diagnostic spells, Adrian breathed a sigh of genuine relief.
"How is Harry?" Krum asked anxiously from the side, hovering nearby, his face was pale with worry. "Will he... will he?"
"Just a minor injury, relatively speaking," Adrian responded casually, standing up and dusting off his robes.
This confident attitude and casual dismissal allowed Krum to set aside his worst worries as well, his shoulders was relaxing in relief.
Adrian had made a simple assessment based on the wound—Harry must have severed his own arm with remarkable courage and clear thinking.
That kind of decisiveness at fifteen was impressive and rare.
This decisive action had successfully kept him alive, with the curse showing almost no spread beyond the sacrificed limb.
In other words, they just needed to have him grow a new arm and that would be that.
Simple enough.
Thanks to the Treant's abilities, specifically Shalala's gifts, this wasn't particularly difficult at all.
Conveniently, the Treant's medic, Shalala, had also been stationed in the maze for emergencies just like this.
After a short time, perhaps around five minutes, professors patrolling other sections of the maze nearby arrived at the scene one after another.
They were followed shortly by Cedric and Fleur, both looking shaken, worried, and confused about what had happened.
"Where are the Death Eaters?" McGonagall demanded immediately.
"Escaped," Dumbledore said simply.
First place in the competition was awarded to Krum by default—after all, Harry remained unconscious and couldn't claim the trophy for himself.
With such violent events having transpired, with Death Eaters invading Hogwarts itself and students seriously injured, naturally no one cared about the competition results anymore or who had won.
The trophy seemed trivial now, meaningless.
Dumbledore explained what had just occurred to the gathered professors.
In an instant, panic and lingering fear appeared on everyone's faces, the reality of the situation was beginning to seetle in.
"Death Eaters? Here? At Hogwarts? How did they get through the wards?" McGonagall looked horrified; her hand was at her throat.
"A Portkey," Dumbledore said. "Provided by Ludo Bagman to an accomplice."
Incidentally, as people gathered and talked in hushed, worried tones, Adrian spotted something interesting—a tiny beetle on Professor Flitwick's shoulder, its antennae twitching, watching everything with focus.
It seemed the Daily Prophet in a few days would be quite interesting indeed, full of sensational headlines.
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