"Harry Potter," hissed Voldemort to the Great Hall, "is dead."

McGonagall put a hand over her mouth, her eyes instantly filling with tears. Flitwick looked appalled. The great Harry Potter? How could he be dead? Slughorn stared steadily down, his eyes pooling with tears. Snape stared forward apathetically. The students had mixed reactions. Most of the Slytherins cheered for Voldemort, praising the Dark Lord for his deed. The other Houses either cried or stared at the floor, knowing that their last hope was gone – dead.

"This has gone far enough," McGonagall hissed. "We will liberate the Muggle-borns from that wretched Arena, and we will lead a rebellion. We will be Dumbledore's Army, just as Potter wanted it to be. He didn't say anything about Weasley or Granger, so hopefully they got away. If they did, then we must find them. Dumbledore had them searching for something, and we need to know."