At the edge of a dense forest, as the dizziness from Apparition faded, Snape immediately reached into the inner pocket of his robes and pulled out the medallion that could sense the position of the Founders' Ark.
However, when he injected his magic into the badge to locate the precise coordinates of the enchanted vessel, the feedback it returned told him that it was almost at the same altitude as himself.
"The Founders' Ark isn't in the sky." Snape's expression darkened. He turned and relayed the discovery to his companions.
"What?!" Moody's hand was already on his wand. The Longbottoms and the Tonks family instantly tensed, and Mrs. Kate Prendergast subconsciously edged closer to them.
"Let's go take a look," Snape said in a low, steady voice.
Without hesitation, they crouched low, following a narrow path that wound between the coastline and the treeline, moving swiftly toward the direction indicated by the medallion.
As they drew closer to the indicated location, the air became thick with the salty tang of seawater, and the ground beneath their feet gradually turned to soft sand.
The crash of waves striking the shore grew clearer, and mingled within that rhythm were faint traces of laughter.
Snape raised a hand at once, signaling the group to stop. He silently dropped to the ground, parting the leaves and branches of the shrubbery before him, creating a tiny gap through which he could carefully peer out.
The sight that greeted him made him pause, almost incredulous at the absurdity of it.
On the golden beach under the pale morning light, a group of blurry figures ran and splashed in the shallows, building sandcastles. A few taller students were tossing a makeshift volleyball back and forth.
At the edge of the beach, several adult figures were faintly visible. They appeared to be strolling casually, yet their subtle positioning formed a protective perimeter around the children, their eyes scanning the surroundings warily.
Snape immediately recognized one of them, a very short wizard with a distinctly familiar stature.
"Phew..." He exhaled deeply and stood upright, raising his voice toward the beach. "Professor Flitwick! It's us, we're back!"
His shout broke the morning calm. The students playing on the sand stopped what they were doing and looked over curiously, while the adults on watch turned around sharply. Once they saw it was Snape, their faces lit up with relief.
The group hidden behind the shrubs also relaxed and stepped out one by one.
Professor Flitwick and Professor Burbage jogged toward them at once.
"Severus, Alastor, Emmeline, thank Merlin you're all safe!" Flitwick's voice trembled with emotion. "Oh, Frank, Alice! Ted, Andromeda, and little Dora! Wonderful, you're all safe!"
Yet just as the warmth of reunion swelled, Snape made a sudden move that stunned everyone.
He raised his arm without warning, his wand pointed straight at the uneasy figure standing at the edge of the group: Mrs. Kate Prendergast.
"Don't move, Mrs. Prendergast," he said calmly. "Please, wait a moment."
Flitwick's smile froze. Quick as lightning, he drew his wand, his wariness overriding his joy, though he had no idea what was happening.
"Severus, what is this about?"
Almost simultaneously, Moody shifted, taking a position opposite Snape, boxing Kate subtly between them.
The recently rescued Longbottoms and the Tonks family all stared, dumbfounded by this abrupt confrontation.
"Sir," Kate said, her face instantly drained of color, her eyes full of shock and confusion, "what... what is the meaning of this?"
Snape didn't answer her question immediately.
He kept his wand trained on her, but his tone softened a little, his words addressed everyone, though they seemed directed to her as well. "Everyone, relax. Don't be alarmed. This is merely a small verification procedure."
"Professor Burbage," he said, turning slightly toward the equally baffled Burbage, "please, could you fetch Rissy Polk, first-year Hufflepuff? Bring her here at once."
"Right away!" Professor Burbage didn't hesitate; she nodded sharply and hurried toward the beach, searching for the familiar little girl among the students.
The half-minute wait felt painfully long. The children on the sand had noticed something strange and began peering in their direction, though Gideon and the others quietly kept them at a distance.
Soon enough, Professor Burbage returned, walking briskly, hand-in-hand with a tidy-haired girl with short brown hair and a puzzled, curious expression, Rissy Polk.
Before the girl even reached them, Snape subtly twisted his wrist, slipping his wand smoothly back into the deep sleeve of his black robes.
"Professor Snape, Professor Flitwick, good morning!" Rissy said cheerfully, giving them both a polite little bow.
As she lifted her head, her eyes drifted over the gathered group, and suddenly froze on Kate Prendergast's face.
"Aunt Kate?!" Rissy's eyes went round as saucers, her face lighting up with joyous disbelief.
She instinctively took a step forward, ready to rush into her aunt's arms.
But Snape quietly raised a hand, stopping her in place.
"Rissy," he said gently, leaning down slightly, his voice calm yet firm, "wait."
The girl looked up at him, confused. "Professor? That's my aunt."
"I know you miss her," said Snape. "But do you remember what I told your class in Potions? The lesson that earned you your first 'Outstanding' badge?"
Rissy blinked, then instinctively replied, "Caution, it's the first lesson when stepping into your classroom."
She pulled a tiny badge from her pocket. "I remember, sir."
But her eyes still darted anxiously toward her aunt.
"Good." Snape nodded. "Then I need you to use that same caution now. Treat this situation as you would a potion test, verify the identity of the person before you."
"Sir..." Rissy hesitated, frowning in confusion. She glanced between Snape's stern expression and her aunt's face, where fear, hurt, and hope all mingled. Then, as if realizing something, she asked hesitantly, "You're worried she's an impostor?"
"Very perceptive," Snape said approvingly.
The little girl frowned deeper, lost in thought. Kate bit her lip, looking at her niece with aching concern, but she didn't speak.
Finally, Rissy's eyes lit up with an idea.
"Aunt Kate!" she called out loudly. "Last Christmas, the scarf you gave me, what pattern did you embroider on it?"
"The scarf?" Kate thought hard. "It was a Niffler with a snowball on its head! And its nose was crooked, I remember your mother teasing me about my stitching..."
At that, all of Rissy's doubt melted away. She turned to Snape and gave him an emphatic nod. "She's really my aunt, sir. I'm sure of it!"
Snape finally lowered his guard. He reached out, gently patted Rissy's head, and stepped aside. "Go on, then."
"Auntie!" Rissy cried, darting forward like a bird. "Auntie, it really is you! I missed you so much!"
Kate gathered her into her arms, holding her tightly, kissing her hair, the fear and confusion of moments ago washed away by sheer joy.
Snape approached them and inclined his head slightly. "Mrs. Prendergast, forgive the precaution. Desperate times require it."
"No, no, sir," Kate said quickly, clutching her niece. "You did the right thing. Thank you, for being this careful, for keeping Rissy safe."
With the reunion soothed, Snape turned and walked alongside Professor Flitwick as the group headed back toward the beach.
"Professor," Snape said quietly, his eyes sweeping over the students laughing and playing by the waves, "what's going on here? Why are the students ashore?"
"Severus," Flitwick said, stroking his mustache with a gentle smile, "it's Halloween! The world's grim enough as it is, they need a little light now and then, don't they?"
"They've been cooped up on the ship for weeks, staring at nothing but sunlight and clouds. If we kept them there any longer, they'd start to go mad. It's a rare day for celebration, so I brought them down to feel the sand, to hear the sea."
"Don't worry," he added. "We're being careful. Every student turned in their wand before disembarking, they're all locked away. No magical traces that could alert the Ministry."
Snape looked out at the beach, at the children laughing and running freely, momentarily freed from fear and exile. He nodded slightly. "That's good. They need it."
After a pause, he lowered his voice again. "Professor, Mr. Grindelwald. Has he returned?"
"No word yet," said Flitwick, shaking his head, worry flickering across his face. But he quickly shrugged with deliberate lightness.
"Still, this is him we're talking about. I suspect he's got his own plan. Or perhaps a small complication he needs to tidy up."
Snape didn't press further. He simply gave a quiet "Hmm."
Though uneasy, he shared Flitwick's confidence, if even Gellert Grindelwald couldn't escape unharmed, then truly, no one could. He chose to believe the man would succeed in his "task."
Snape took up position atop a rocky outcrop overlooking the beach, keeping silent watch. Moody leaned on his staff beneath a tree some distance away, guarding the other flank.
The Longbottoms, the Tonks family, and Mrs. Prendergast followed Emmeline and Professor Burbage back toward the Founders' Ark.
...
A few hours earlier, in London. The city streets lay empty beneath the night.
Gellert Grindelwald appeared soundlessly in a narrow alleyway.
Before him stood a shabby red telephone booth, several panes of glass missing, red paint flaking away to reveal rust beneath.
The booth was pressed against a filthy brick wall scrawled over with graffiti. The old telephone receiver hung crookedly from its hook, its cord slack and twisted.
Grindelwald walked straight up and lifted the receiver.
Instead of dialing 62442 like an ordinary visitor, he casually tapped the mouthpiece with his wand.
A low hum filled the air.
The booth shuddered violently, and the ground beneath it began to tremble.
Then, like an elevator in reverse, the pavement outside seemed to rise as the telephone booth sank smoothly into the earth, taking Grindelwald down with it.
After about a minute of descent, a thin golden beam shot through a crack in the booth, intending to scan the visitor from head to toe.
But the light passed through Grindelwald as if through empty air, through his legs, his torso, his face, meeting no resistance.
The golden ray hesitated, swirling uncertainly in the "empty" booth for several seconds before vanishing, defeated.
Then a cold, mechanical female voice echoed within the narrow space:
"Visitor to the Ministry of Magic, please proceed to the security desk for inspection and wand registration. The security desk is located at the far end of the Atrium. The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant evening."
As soon as the message ended, there was a loud clank, and the booth door sprang open.
Grindelwald stepped out into the Ministry's grand Atrium.
It was deep night. The hall was dimly lit, only a few wall lamps shedding weak, flickering light.
He stood at the far end of the vast space, dark polished wood flooring stretching before him, gleaming faintly and vanishing into shadow.
Above, the high peacock-blue ceiling shimmered with golden symbols that shifted and danced, like a massive celestial noticeboard, glimmering softly in the dark.
The walls were paneled in black wood, glossy as glass, with gilt fireplaces set into them at intervals, none yet lit.
In the center of the hall was an empty pool. No water. No statues.
The Fountain of Magical Brethren that once stood there had been removed, leaving only an unfilled basin.
A grimy sign lay face-down beside it, smeared with dirt and footprints, the words barely legible:
"All proceeds from the Fountain of Magical Brethren are donated to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries."
Grindelwald's eyes flicked over the remnants, the dry basin, the scattered Sickles and Knuts glinting faintly at the bottom.
He snorted. "Hmph."
Without lingering, he strode onward, his steps calm and measured, toward the far end of the Atrium, where a single lamp still glowed faintly above the security desk.
There, under that dim light, a balding red-haired man was slumped over the counter, snoring softly.
Grindelwald's footsteps stirred him awake.