At the edge of a dense forest, as the momentary disorientation from Apparition dissipated, Snape immediately pulled out the token from his inner robe pocket that detected the Founders' Ark's location.
However, when he infused his magic into the emblem, attempting to pinpoint the precise location of the magical ship, the feedback he received indicated it was almost at the same altitude as himself.
"The Founders' Ark isn't in the sky," Snape's face darkened as he turned to inform his companions of this discovery.
"What?!" Moody's hand was already on his wand. The Longbottoms and the Tonks family immediately grew tense, and Mrs. Kate Prendergast subconsciously huddled closer to them.
"Let's go, let's take a look," Snape said gravely.
Without hesitation, they immediately crouched low, advancing rapidly along a hidden path winding along the coastline and the forest edge, heading in the direction indicated by the token.
As they drew closer to the area indicated by the token, the salty tang of the sea began to permeate the air, and the ground beneath their feet gradually gave way to soft sand.
The crashing sound of waves on the beach became clear, mixed with some strange human voices, seemingly muffled laughter.
Snape immediately raised a hand, signaling everyone to stop. He himself stealthily crouched low, parting the shrubbery just enough to create an almost imperceptible gap, carefully peering out.
The sight that met his eyes made him slightly pause, even feeling a touch of absurdity:
On the golden sandy beach, the morning light was just breaking. A group of blurry figures were running, splashing in the water, and building sandcastles. A few taller children were playing a makeshift game of beach volleyball.
At the edge of the beach, several adult figures were dimly visible. They appeared to be strolling casually, but their positioning subtly shielded the playing children, and they scanned their surroundings vigilantly.
Snape immediately recognized the short wizard with the highly distinctive height.
"Phew—" He let out a long breath, straightened up, and called out loudly towards the beach, "Professor Flitwick, it's us, we're back!"
The shout broke the stillness of the early morning beach. The students playing on the sand stopped curiously and looked over. The few adult wizards on guard immediately turned around, and upon recognizing Snape, relieved smiles appeared on their faces.
The group behind the bushes also let out a sigh of relief and emerged in single file.
Flitwick and Professor Burbage immediately jogged forward to meet them.
"Severus, Alastor, Emmeline, thank Merlin, you've returned safely!" Professor Flitwick's voice was filled with emotion. "Oh, Frank, Alice! Ted, Andromeda, and little Dora! This is wonderful, you're all safe!"
Amidst this warm moment of reunion, Snape did something completely unexpected.
Without warning, he raised his arm, his wand pointed at Mrs. Prendergast, who stood somewhat uncomfortably at the edge of the group.
"Don't move, Mrs. Prendergast," he said. "Please wait a moment."
Professor Flitwick's smile froze. He reacted incredibly quickly, raising his wand in alarm, his vigilance overriding the joy of reunion, though he completely failed to understand what was happening: "Severus, what's going on?" Almost simultaneously, Moody swiftly positioned himself on Kate's other side, forming a pincer movement with Snape, subtly surrounding Kate.
The recently rescued Longbottoms and others were also stunned, watching the sudden standoff with confusion.
"Sir," Kate's face instantly went pale, her eyes filled with shock and bewilderment. "What—what is this about?"
Snape didn't immediately answer her question. He maintained his wand pointed at Kate, his tone softening slightly, as if explaining to everyone, and also to Kate herself: "Everyone relax, don't be alarmed. It's just a small verification procedure."
"Professor Burbage, I need a favour." He tilted his head slightly, looking at Professor Burbage, who was equally bewildered. "Please immediately bring Rhys Polk, the first-year Hufflepuff, here. Thank you."
"Alright, I'll go now!" Professor Burbage didn't waste words, nodded immediately, turned, and hurried towards the beach, searching for that familiar small figure among the crowd.
The tens of seconds of waiting felt exceptionally long. The students on the beach also noticed the abnormality and curiously looked over, but they were gently appeased by Gideon and others and did not approach.
Soon, Professor Burbage returned quickly, leading a small girl with neat brown short hair, whose face showed a mixture of confusion and curiosity. It was indeed Rhys Polk.
Before Rhys approached the group, Snape gave his wrist an almost imperceptible flick, and the wand he had been holding quietly slipped deep into the folds of his voluminous black sleeve.
"Good morning, Mr. Snape, Professor Flitwick!" Rhys first curtsied politely to Snape and Professor Flitwick.
When she looked up, preparing to greet the others, her gaze naturally swept over the group, but then instantly fixed on Mrs. Prendergast's face.
"Aunt Kate?!" Little Rhys's eyes widened, and an unbelievable, immense joy burst onto her face.
She instinctively moved to rush forward with a joyful cry, as she usually would.
But Snape gently raised a hand, subtly blocking Rhys's path.
"Rhys," he leaned down slightly, his voice carrying a soothing power, "Not so fast."
Rhys stopped, puzzled, looking up at Snape, her small face filled with confusion: "Professor? That's my aunt."
"Rhys, I know you miss her. But do you remember what I told you in Potions class?" Snape said. "A hint: it earned you the first 'Outstanding' badge I ever gave out."
Rhys paused, then instinctively answered, " 'Caution is the first lesson you learn upon entering my classroom.' "
She pulled a small badge from her small robe pocket.
"I remember, sir," she said, though her eyes couldn't help but anxiously glance at her aunt.
"Very good," Snape nodded. "Then now, I need you to maintain that caution. Just like with potion making, confirm the identity of the lady before you."
"Sir—" Rhys was a bit bewildered by the question, her small face wrinkled. She looked at Snape's serious face, then at Aunt Kate's expression, a mix of fear, grievance, and anticipation. She seemed to understand something and asked hesitantly, "Are you worried that she's an imposter?"
"Clever," Snape said approvingly. Rhys fell into a brief thought, her small brows furrowed.
Kate looked at her niece worriedly, her lips moved as if to say something, but she held back.
Finally, Rhys seemed to have an idea, and her small face brightened.
"Aunt Kate!" she mustered her courage, looking up and shouting loudly at Kate, who was a few steps away. "What pattern was embroidered on the scarf you gave me last Christmas?"
"Scarf?" Kate tried to remember. "It was a Niffler with a tiny snowball on its head. And I embroidered its nose crooked, your mother even teased me about it—"
Hearing this answer, the last trace of doubt vanished from Rhys's face. She turned to Snape, nodding vigorously and giving him a very firm look: "That's right, sir, she's my aunt, absolutely real!"
Snape finally relaxed. He patted Rhys's small head and stepped aside: "Go on."
"Auntie!" Rhys, like a joyful little bird, immediately flew into Kate's embrace. "Auntie, it's really you! How did you get here? I missed you so much!"
Kate hugged her tightly, kissing her hair. The earlier fright and grievance were swept away by immense joy.
Snape walked over to Kate and nodded slightly: "Mrs. Prendergast, my apologies for the rudeness earlier. These are extraordinary times, please understand."
"No, no, sir," Kate said, holding Rhys and shaking her head repeatedly. "You did the right thing, no need to apologize! Thank you, thank you for protecting Rhys so carefully."
After comforting the reunited aunt and niece, Snape walked towards Professor Flitwick.
The group then resumed walking towards the beach.
"Professor," Snape asked in a low voice, his gaze sweeping over the students playing on the beach, "What's going on? Why are we here, and why are the students down here?"
"Severus," Professor Flitwick stroked his beard, a gentle smile on his face. "It's Halloween today! I know the situation is tense, but we still need to let the children relax and get some fresh air, don't we?
"Staying on the ship day after day, with nothing but blinding sun or monotonous white clouds in sight, I'm afraid the children would get sick if this continues. It's a rare holiday, so I brought them down to feel the sand and listen to the waves."
"Don't worry," he added, "we are very cautious. All students surrendered their wands before coming down, and we are keeping them. No magical fluctuations will leak out to alarm the Ministry of Magic."
Snape looked at the students on the beach, who had temporarily forgotten their fears and wandering lives, laughing and running freely. He nodded slightly: "That's good, everyone does need to relax."
He paused, remembering something else, and asked in a lowered voice: "Professor, Mr. Gellert, has he returned?"
"No news yet," Professor Flitwick shook his head, a hint of worry appearing on his face. But then he shrugged, feigning nonchalance, "However, that's him, isn't it? I suppose he might have his own plans, or encountered a little trouble to deal with."
Snape didn't ask further, simply grunting in affirmation.
Although somewhat worried, he shared Professor Flitwick's sentiment. If even Grindelwald couldn't escape unscathed, then probably no one in the world could. He chose to trust that Grindelwald could handle his "mission."
So, Snape walked to a higher rock at the edge of the beach, silently taking on the duty of lookout. Moody also leaned on a nearby tree with his cane, keeping watch in another direction. The rescued Longbottoms, Tonks family, and Mrs. Prendergast were led back to the Founders' Ark by Emmeline and Professor Burbage.
A few hours earlier, in London, England. The dark streets were deserted.
Gellert Grindelwald's figure appeared silently in a secluded alley.
In front of him was a dilapidated red telephone booth, several of its glass panes shattered and missing, and rusted metal peeking through the faded red paint.
The telephone booth was pressed against a dirty brick wall, completely disfigured by various graffiti. The receiver of the old-fashioned phone hung crookedly on its hook, and the cord was loose.
Grindelwald walked straight to it and reached for the receiver.
He didn't press the numbers "62442" like an ordinary visitor, but casually tapped the inside of the receiver with his wand.
Hum— The interior of the phone booth suddenly vibrated violently, and the ground beneath his feet began to tremble.
Immediately after, the sidewalk outside the glass windows began to slowly rise like an elevator car, while the entire phone booth, with Grindelwald inside, sank underground.
After sinking for about a minute, a thin golden beam of light suddenly shot out from a crevice in the phone booth, routinely attempting to scan the visitor's entire body.
However, the golden light passed through Grindelwald's feet, body, and finally his face, as if scanning empty air, without any obstruction.
The golden light seemed to pause in confusion, turning aimlessly inside the "empty" phone booth for several seconds before reluctantly disappearing.
Then, a cold, mechanical female voice echoed in the confined space:
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. You are required to submit to a security check at the inspection point and register your wand. The inspection point is at the end of the Atrium. The Ministry wishes you a pleasant evening."
As soon as the voice fell, the phone booth door sprang open with a "Clang!"
Grindelwald stepped out, entering the Ministry's iconic Atrium.
At midnight, the Atrium was extremely dimly lit, with only a few wall sconces emitting faint glows.
Grindelwald stood at the furthest end of the Atrium. The brightly polished dark wooden floor stretched out beneath his feet, its end disappearing into the distant gloom.
Looking up, the high peacock-blue ceiling was inlaid with countless constantly moving and changing golden symbols, like a giant aerial bulletin board, shimmering faintly in the darkness.
The surrounding walls were paneled with sleek, dark wood, and gilded fireplaces, yet to be lit, were embedded at regular intervals.
In the center of the Atrium was an empty pool, with no statues and no sound of water.
The "Fountain of Magical Brethren" statue group that had once stood there seemed to have been removed, but had not yet been replaced.
A stained small sign lay overturned by the pool, bearing several clear footprints over the words "All proceeds from the Fountain of Magical Brethren are donated to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries."
Grindelwald's gaze swept over the remnants of the fountain, passing over the few gleaming silver Sickles and bronze Knuts at the bottom of the dry pool.
"Hmph." A disdainful snort escaped his nostrils.
He no longer lingered, stepping with an unhurried pace directly towards the only faintly lit area at the end of the Atrium.
At the security desk, beside a dim, solitary lamp, a somewhat balding red-haired man was slumped over the desk, emitting steady snores.
Grindelwald's footsteps roused him.
---