Harry Potter: The art of divination

*Morpheus pov*

I stood atop of the castle overlooking the Hogwarts grounds, the moon was out tonight but not in full I could see the edges of hogsmead out in the distance. Nights like this were always sobering knowing the lives that would be lost. 

No matter how many wars, skirmishes, and conflicts I have witnessed and been a part of the feelings that overcame me before and after always made me debate whether what I'm doing is worth it. 

At first, I was almost zealous in my pursuit of victory, I must admit during those times I did my fair share of abhorrent acts. As time passed and I suffered after every death I began to doubt if it was all worth it. 

Afterall I've lost everything, everyone what was the point? 

Even my brother is far away though I hope to see him very soon. 

But these nights, the lives lost. 

Made me tired. 

So tired. 

"Watching the stars?" a voice sounded behind me gently 

A smile cracked across my lips, "Helena, how are you tonight?" 

She floated next to me, "The castle led me here you know? Opened a path straight here." she giggled, "Why would it do that?" 

I didn't doubt her, since I awakened the castle partly it has probably been coming out of its stupor slowly. 

"I wouldn't know the exact reason but, I'd hazard a guess the castle was feeling particularly vindictive." so what if I didn't wake you up fully 

She giggled, "You know my mom always said you had a way with words, what has you feeling down my lord?" 

"Just thinking of the lives soon to be lost," I replied catching the stars twinkle in the sky 

She hummed, "I understand, I think my mom regretted many of the things she did in the past before she died. Do you regret all of the lives you have taken?" she asked 

"You misunderstand Helena, I do not regret I feel saddened by what they are forcing me to do. I regret not killing all of them faster, and I am thinking about all of the lives I will be taking soon." I turned to look at her in the eye, "Helena, I hope you stay around for many years to appreciate the fruits of my labor, I will kill them Helena I will kill them all." 

I looked over at Hogsmeade once more, "And soon Helena it will all begin."

***

"I don't understand why you didn't tell me sooner, the reason you gave us in the infirmary doesn't make complete sense to me Morpheus," Albus asked with a frown 

I shook my head in annoyance, "Because you would ask questions. Questions I cannot answer or else everything would fall apart." 

He squinted his eyes ever so slightly, "Tell me more." 

I scoffed, "are you deaf, I cannot tell you more. Many lives will be lost, Xenophilius's warning does in fact give you enough time to mitigate the toll as you already are up to. You Albus have the most important role in all of this, and for that role to be fulfilled I cannot tell you anything more." 

His role was uniquely singular and it had everything to do with his bleeding heart. 

He sighed the man looked beyond tired, "I have a feeling after the attack on Hogsmeade so many things will change. Tell me I am wrong." 

"You are right." I thought of what I should say, "I will not lie, you will do something many are going to condemn you for but you like always will have a clear path out of trouble my friend. Trust in me just once more and I promise everything will start to become clear." 

*Narrator pov*

A week since Morpheus's conversation with Dumbledore, night began to descend on Hogsmeade. The air carried an unnatural stillness, as though the village itself was holding its breath. It was quieter than usual, but oddly enough, the streets were far from empty.

Figures moved through the lamplit streets, their steps light, their movements deliberate. They didn't linger, nor did they travel together. Instead, they passed each other with brief nods, disappearing into alleyways or slipping into shadows with practiced ease.

From the upper floor of Gladrags Wizardwear, Rufus Scrimgeour watched it all unfold. The head of the Auror Office leaned against the window, his wand resting in his hand. His sharp eyes tracked every figure below, though he knew who they were. These weren't wandering strangers or Death Eaters in disguise—they were his Aurors, hidden in plain sight.

"Report," he muttered without turning, his voice low.

A younger Auror stepped forward from the shadows of the room, her face tense. "All positions are set, sir. The south street is covered, and the northern approach has a rotation every ten minutes. No sign of the enemy yet."

Scrimgeour nodded but didn't look away from the street. "They'll come," he said. "The Dark Lord is too deliberate to waste his time with feints. Hogsmeade is his key to Hogwarts, and he knows it."

The young Auror hesitated before speaking again. "Do you think Everglade was right, sir? About tonight being the night?"

Scrimgeour's lips thinned. Morpheus Everglade's reputation preceded him, even within the Auror ranks. The man had appeared at the last war meeting since the warning with Dumbledore, his calm certainty unsettling even the most seasoned among them. He'd spoken of patterns, movements, whispers in the dark that only someone with his unique profession could know. 

"Everglade doesn't guess," Scrimgeour said finally. "He calculates. And tonight, we'll see if his calculations are correct."

A faint sound broke the quiet—a dull thud, far off, followed by a low, rumbling hum. Scrimgeour stiffened, his wand lifting instinctively. "Did you hear that?"

The young Auror nodded, her eyes widening. "West side. Near the Shrieking Shack."

Scrimgeour turned sharply to the room. "Signal the others. We're about to find out what the Dark Lord has in store for us."

Moments later, a green light streaked into the sky from the western outskirts of the village. It hovered there, pulsing faintly, a beacon to those who knew its meaning. The Aurors on the street reacted instantly, their casual movements replaced by sharp, decisive action. Cloaked figures vanished into doorways and alleyways, wands drawn, awaiting orders.

The attack began as a low rumble—a surge of energy that swept through the village like a stormfront. Spells lit the darkness, green and red clashing in the narrow streets. Screams echoed as Death Eaters emerged from the shadows, their black robes billowing like specters in the night.

From his vantage point, Scrimgeour could see the village's defense spring into motion. His Aurors met the attackers head-on, their coordination a testament to weeks of preparation. Still, the Death Eaters were relentless, their numbers greater than anticipated.

The battle for Hogsmeade had begun, and somewhere in the chaos, a single thought lingered in Scrimgeour's mind, "How many will be lost?" 

A/N: Holy shit I'm finally here, this is officially the start of the end. I am so excited for what is to come and I'm sorry it took so long. Things are going to start hitting rapidly.