The newcomer was, of course, Dumbledore. A fiery phoenix circled beside him, its cries echoing through the air.
His snow-white hair, beard, and robes drifted gently, his presence godlike.
Harry, Pheobe, and Krum were all a little dazed. They felt as though Dumbledore had descended like a god. Tris, however, saw things somewhat differently.
He simply felt that Dumbledore had taken making a grand entrance to a whole new level.
Having someone even better at showing off than he was competing for his crown was rather hard to accept. Still, Old Dumbledore arriving at this moment really had saved their lives.
Across from them, Voldemort visibly froze when Dumbledore suddenly appeared, seemingly astonished that he had turned up at this moment.
That pitch-black dome was an advanced anti-Apparition barrier he had developed from everything he had learned over the years, combined with his recent discoveries. It could prevent any form of magical teleportation.
Half the reason Tris had not simply escaped earlier using Shadow Magic's teleportation was that Harry and the others were still inside. The other half was that teleportation could not get him out.
Any other method would still mean getting past Voldemort, who was strutting around inside.
Outside, quite a few older wizards recognized Voldemort. The instant he appeared, a large wave of spectators took to their heels, while another group foolishly waved their wands, trying to Disapparate. Once they discovered they could not, they took to their heels as well.
In the blink of an eye, more than half the stands had emptied-a competition held in Britain naturally drew mostly local British spectators.
Those whose children attended the school were particularly quick to grab the students and scramble away. Only a handful of people from the Ministry of Magic or connected to the Order of the