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"God, this is impossible," Snape murmured weakly.
"Dumbledore, this is impossible, right?" Snape demanded, his voice hurried and edged with tension.
The soft glow above Dumbledore's head illuminated his face, making it look particularly grim. The light highlighted the lines on his face, making him appear older and wearier.
"Ethan, can you be certain?" Dumbledore asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"No, I can't," Ethan replied steadily.
"It's only a guess."
At Ethan's words, Snape seemed to regain a semblance of composure, straightening slightly as his eyes darted back to Dumbledore.
"I must admit… it's highly possible," Dumbledore sighed, his shoulders sinking as he lowered his gaze.
"This matter requires further investigation," he continued, his voice resolute despite the weight of his words.
"We must proceed carefully. I believe we will find the best solution in time."
Pausing, Dumbledore fixed Ethan and Snape with a serious look.
"Until then, I ask you to keep this matter confidential. No one else must know."
"I swear it," Ethan and Snape replied in unison.
The air in the office grew heavier, suffused with an unspoken dread.
Each of them was acutely aware of the horrifying possibility they now faced: if Harry was indeed a Horcrux, the only way to eradicate Voldemort might be to kill Harry.
It was a solution none of them wanted to accept.
Breaking the oppressive silence, Dumbledore shifted to another topic.
"Ethan, has any progress regarding the Quidditch World Cup?"
Ethan welcomed the change in subject.
"Yes. We've arrested numerous Death Eaters who caused disturbances at the event. They'll be tried soon. Lucius Malfoy has agreed to cooperate with the Ministry and provided us with a list of high-ranking Death Eaters.
"With this information, we'll apprehend them quickly. Justice will be served," Ethan said firmly.
Dumbledore nodded approvingly. "Good. If we can cut down Voldemort's supporters before he regains his strength, it will cripple his plans for resurrection."
As they spoke, Snape shifted uncomfortably, his hand brushing his right forearm. A flash of pain crossed his face.
Dumbledore's sharp eyes caught the movement immediately.
"Severus, is your arm troubling you again?"
"Yes," Snape admitted through gritted teeth.
"I can feel it… his power is growing, little by little."
"I can help ease the pain," Dumbledore said calmly.
"Please, Severus, show me your arm."
Snape rolled up his sleeve without hesitation, exposing the Dark Mark etched into his forearm.
The mark had worsened. The sinister skull's mouth hung open, a venomous snake writhing as if alive. Black tendrils spread outward from the mark, weaving an intricate and ominous pattern across Snape's forearm.
The threads of dark magic had begun their slow, insidious crawl toward his heart.
Ethan examined it closely, his expression darkening.
"It's moving… toward your heart," he said gravely.
"I can't claim to understand how it works, but if it reaches there…"
The room fell silent again, the unspoken implications clear.
The Dark Mark's progression was more than a warning; it was a deadly promise.
Dumbledore's steady voice, filled with quiet urgency, broke the stillness.
"We will find a way, Severus. You will not face this alone."
Dumbledore raised the Elder Wand, its tip glowing faintly as he pressed it gently against Snape's arm.
He murmured an obscure incantation, his voice low and steady.
Slowly, the tip of the wand began to emit a soft white light.
As the magic took effect, the black filaments snaking across Snape's upper arm recoiled, retreating into the sinister mark on his forearm.
The Dark Mark itself began to fade, its ominous presence diminishing until it became faint and subdued.
"That should do it, Severus," Dumbledore said softly, his voice tinged with exhaustion.
"You won't be troubled by this mark for some time."
He sighed, visibly drained. The spell had demanded more of him than he let on, though he maintained his usual calm demeanor.
Dumbledore then gestured for Ethan to leave. It was clear he had something to discuss privately with Snape.
Ethan nodded and exited the office, going to the Floo network at Hogwarts.
Moments later, he stepped into the bustling and chaotic Ministry of Magic.
The tension was palpable. The Quidditch World Cup riot left a dark cloud over the Ministry. Wizards and witches hurried through the atrium, their faces drawn and nervous.
The air was thick with unease.
The Ministry was stretched thin. The recent abolition of most Dementors had left Azkaban understaffed, forcing the Ministry to rely on makeshift holding cells for captured Death Eaters.
Many those arrested during the Quidditch World Cup chaos were now held in these temporary facilities.
As Ethan entered, heads turned. Whispers followed him.
He was a hero in their eyes, having played a critical role in quelling the riot. But their admiration carried a hint of fear as if his bravery set him apart in a way they couldn't quite grasp.
Ignoring the stares, Ethan walked briskly to the elevator and descended to the Auror office floor. He bypassed the main office, heading straight for the conference room.
Inside, the room was packed. Aurors and Hit Wizards filled the space, their faces sharp with focus.
Among them were prominent figures: Rufus Scrimgeour, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and the ever-formidable Alastor Moody.
The chatter died instantly as Ethan entered. All eyes turned to him.
The atmosphere shifted; the room seemed to stiffen with anticipation. Many of the gathered Aurors straightened in their seats, sensing the gravity of what was to come.
Fudge, who had been reduced to a nervous figurehead in the wake of Voldemort's growing threat, had delegated much of the Ministry's defense strategy to Ethan.
The Minister of Magic, terrified and indecisive, had confined himself to his office, claiming to be "studying strategies" while leaving Ethan in charge of rallying resistance against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
Ethan's first act as de facto leader was to gather every Auror and Hit Wizard under one roof. He had even restricted their movements, forbidding anyone from leaving until further orders.
Lucius Malfoy's intelligence had revealed a critical opportunity: a major operation targeting Death Eater leaders.
But Ethan couldn't afford to take chances. Among the Aurors, spies might still be undercover agents loyal to Voldemort. Any leak could sabotage the mission before it began.
Ethan scanned the room, his gaze steady and commanding.
The energy in the room shifted again, this time toward readiness.
The hunt was about to begin.