It’s the attack of the Fire Ash Snake.
It blew off half of a Gryffindor wizard’s arm while he attempted to play with the snake.
He kept screaming in agony.
Madam Pomfrey rushed over to give him some temporary treatment while Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, and others were striving to fend off the Fire Ash Snake from all directions.
To them,
the Fire Ash Snake is not considered a terrifying threat.
However, the number of Fire Ash Snakes over here in the hall is simply too many. It’s as if these Fire Ash Snakes are under some sort of command, concentrating their efforts to attack the whole hall.
Like a swarm.
In singles, they might just be little toys, but in swarms, they are enough to keep Hogwarts on high alert. The eyes of Ian reflected thousands of Fire Ash Snakes.
From all directions.
Incessantly.
"Someone is controlling these Fire Ash Snakes!" Professor McGonagall’s tone was assured as she manipulated dozens of armors in the castle, swiftly slaying among the Fire Ash Snakes.
The swordsmanship of these armors was actually quite decent, clearly benefiting from Professor McGonagall’s control, as she, after all, hails from Gryffindor and is also the head of Gryffindor house.
"Kids! Hurry inside! We’ll seal the doors! High-grade students, help out together, let McGonagall find out where the damned Fire Ash Snakes are coming from!"
With a wave of Professor Flitwick’s wand, on the Ravenclaw students’ corridor, the Fire Ash Snakes that some higher-grade wizards were struggling to deal with instantly froze into ice sculptures.
"Quick!"
The two Prefects led everyone into the hall, settling the crying little wizards and promptly taking higher-grade students towards the direction of the door to assist the professors.
"Will we die here?"
Qiu Zhang was frightened by the number of Fire Ash Snakes at the door.
"Don’t worry, the professors aren’t giving their all yet," Ian knew well that the professors hadn’t yet used Dark Arts or magic that might cause severe damage to the castle.
"Professor McGonagall is going to find the source, I feel she might get into trouble because of it." Qiu Zhang found it hard to imagine just how terrifying the source’s group could be.
"You’re underestimating our Transformation Technique teacher, even as our head she’d not be more adventurous than Professor McGonagall. There’s a reason she’s sent to find the source." Ian’s eyes wandered inside the hall; people from the other three houses were all here, yet he couldn’t spot his good partner from Slytherin.
"Stop searching! Little Grindelwald isn’t here!"
Suddenly.
A voice carrying unusual displeasure rang in his ears, seemingly close yet far away, Ian quickly turned to look, squatting down to see that there was a stretcher at the rear of the teacher’s seat in the hall.
Snape lay on it, completely wrapped in bandages.
With his eyes tightly closed.
Looking as if he was already done for.
"Uncle Snape!" Ian finally understood why he didn’t see Snape at the door; Snape was actually down, arranged inside the hall.
That’s not right!
Good uncle’s power isn’t weak!
"Oh my! Merlin’s above! Uncle! What happened to you?" Ian was also suddenly alarmed, quickly running to Snape, but as soon as he approached, he realized something was amiss.
Snape seemed awfully spirited.
As he approached,
those cold, squinty eyes that opened could still stare at him full of resentment.
"Call me Professor Snape!" Snape’s voice, although faint, was filled with vigor, indignant, not at all like someone severely injured and bandaged all over.
With such injury,
one should at least be unconscious, right?
"Alright, Professor Snape Uncle, what happened to you?" Ian moved closer and smelled a herbal scent, not all of which were for treating injuries.
Rather, it seemed like a pile of expired goods mixed together.
"I thought you’d ask where Miss Grindelwald went first." Snape sneered coldly, sarcastically, his gaze sizing up Ian from top to bottom.
Not noticing any injury, he soon closed his eyes again.
"Taken away by her family?" Ian guessed.
Snape did not give a direct response, merely snorted, continuing to feign unconsciousness, pointing in the direction of the Slytherin students.
"I can’t move, you keep an eye on that guy for me, report anything he does."
Following Snape’s finger, a somewhat outstanding-looking boy around six feet tall in the midst of the Slytherin crowd was glancing around.
He appeared full of furtiveness.
"Who’s that guy? Where’s Marcus? And why haven’t I seen Dumbledore?" Ian was still concerned about the person who framed him and the friend’s brother who might become a new ally.
Adjusting his seniority slightly depends entirely on how Dumbledore feels about his sister!
"Dumbledore took Marcus Flint away; nobody knows where that guy was taken. I’m following Dumbledore’s instructions to stay unconscious."
Snape’s mouth didn’t move, yet he spoke softly.
Ian thought there was no need for him to disguise so realistically since both were now behind the high platform’s teacher seat, and absolutely nobody, including the Slytherin students, paid attention to the severely injured Snape.
Everyone’s attention was drawn to the fierce scene at the door.