As the tenth stroke dies, a series of precise pops fills the quiet field. The Minister of Magic, the Headmistress of Hogwarts, and six war-hardened teenagers are the source. They are resplendent in their sharpest robes with wands in their outstretched hands. A deliberate flick from the brunette girl, no, young lady, intertwining her free hand in the red-haired man's brings eight golden chairs into existence in front of the wall. Another young man, this one visibly scarred, waves a block of wood into being. The wise, aged Headmistress has resumed her practice of carrying a walking stick, this one inlaid with rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and topazes in the ebony wood, pulled her wand out from the center of the stick and mutter at the block of wood to Transfigure it into a podium of walnut. Grandly, as if they were royalty, they took their seats as thousands upon thousands of eyes watched them.
The Patroni guarding the golden seats dissipate barring the lynx, tabby, stag, Jack Russell terrier, otter, horse, hare, and vulture. They each make their way to their casters who stroke them and speak in hushed tones. The eight go out into the golden seats and spoke to the occupants. All of the Galleon-bearing bunch nod and recast their Patroni. Others, some from the ragtag team and some from the red-haired family, cast theirs as well. A reduced army stalk the audience's border of seats. The eight who remained stay with their honored castees.
Confidently, it seems as if fear would be a foreigner to their faces, the octet stride purposefully to their seats. The Headmistress is visibly out of breath to the concerns of all the attendees. If they haven't been taught by the woman, they attended school with her, were going to be under her care, or at least knew of her feats. Closest to her are a blonde young lady in dusty blue robes and Minister Shacklebolt whom she heavily relies on to get back to her seat. The entire audience lets out a collective breath when she is settled. Her six young companions take their seats as well. On stage left, in order of closeness to the podium, are the Headmistress, the flame haired, the brunette, and blonde witches. Stage right sees a bespectacled young man with a distinctive scar, a young man similar in appearance to the flame-haired witch, and the scarred sandy-haired young man. The seat directly next to the podium on stage right is empty, for Minister Shacklebolt stands before the audience, having taken front and center at the podium.
The chocolate-skinned Minister is dazzling in black formal robes with a faint violet sheen. Piping on the edges is a shimmering silver color. The bell tower tolls again, just once. Surreptiously, the audience glances at their watches. 10:15.