The banquet was tense, suffocating, as if the very air carried whispers of dread. Fewer students than in previous years sat at the long, candlelit tables, their eyes darting nervously toward the dark figures looming at the edges of the Great Hall. The absence of many half-bloods and Muggle-borns was painfully evident—those who had chosen not to return, who had vanished into the unknown to avoid the suffocating grip of fear that now coiled around Hogwarts.

At the head table, Severina sat motionless, her piercing gaze sweeping over the students like a predator surveying its territory. Shadows clung to her like an ominous cloak, the flickering torchlight casting deep hollows beneath her sharp cheekbones. The tension in the hall thickened whenever her cold, unreadable expression turned in someone’s direction. Even as the feast carried on, the weight of her presence strangled the atmosphere, leaving no room for warmth or idle conversation.

The castle had changed. It felt colder, emptier, as if the very stones had been stripped of their magic and left to rot under an unseen curse. You knew, deep down, that Hogwarts was no longer a sanctuary—it had become a prison.

The two figures that flanked you as you walked down the dim corridors were silent, their masked faces betraying no emotion. Death Eaters. Their very presence was suffocating, their steps measured and deliberate. You could feel their eyes on you, even through the slits in their masks. You wanted to run, to turn back—but there was nowhere to go. You had been summoned.

The headmistress’s office loomed ahead, the grand wooden doors already slightly ajar, as if expecting your arrival. As you stepped inside, the chill in the air was immediate, biting into your skin.

Her long, dark robes pooled around her like liquid shadow, her fingers steepled beneath her chin. The firelight reflected off her eyes, dark pools of unreadable intent. Her gaze met yours, unwavering, calculating. She had been watching you all night.

"Sit"

Her voice was like a blade.