London answered my call.
They always would.
The crack of Apparition echoed softly across the rooftops as I arrived, my cloak settling behind me like a living shadow. The city stretched endlessly beneath the night sky—alive, unaware, fragile.
Perfect.
I raised my snakewood wand without hesitation and pressed it to my forearm.
The Dark Mark burned.
Not painfully—
But commandingly.
A pulse of magic surged outward, invisible to the mundane world but unmistakable to those bound to me. Alongside it, I wove a telepathic summons, laced with authority and inevitability.
Come.
Then, with a sharp motion, I cast it.
The Dark Mark erupted into the sky above the building—vast, twisting, serpentine. A symbol of fear. Of unity. Of power.
A declaration.
By the time I entered the building, they were already arriving.
One by one.
Then dozens.
Then hundreds.
The central hall was vast, encircled by ascending stands filled with witches and wizards of every kind—pureblood elites, half-blood opportunists, curious minds, ambitious youth.
And hidden among them…
Enemies.
Aurors.
I felt them instantly. Their discipline gave them away—the rigid control, the readiness beneath their calm.
And more interestingly…
Members of the Order of the Phoenix.
Subtle. Careful. Watching.
My lips curled slightly.
Good.
Let them watch.
I stepped into the center.
Edward moved with me, silent and composed at my left—his presence refined, controlled, yet undeniably powerful to any who could sense it.
Ariana stood at my right.
Cloaked in black.
Masked in white.
Hidden.
But her magic…
Her magic could not be hidden. Not entirely. It coiled beneath the surface like a restrained catastrophe.
A hush fell over the hall.
Complete. Absolute.
All eyes turned to me.
I began to speak.
"Brothers… sisters… witches… wizards…"
My voice carried effortlessly, amplified not just by magic—but by presence.
"My friends."
I let the silence linger, letting anticipation build, letting them feel the weight of what was to come.
"Many of you know my views."
A faint smile.
"You believe I despise Muggles… that I look down upon them."
I shook my head slowly.
"And you are wrong."
A ripple moved through the crowd. Confusion. Curiosity.
Perfect.
"Magic," I continued, "is a gift. A spark granted to only a select few. Those chosen by it… are undeniably greater."
My gaze swept across them.
"But greatness does not come from arrogance."
Then—
I exhaled slowly.
Smoke curled from my lips, twisting unnaturally as I infused it with magic.
The vision began.
Above us, the air distorted.
Images formed.
Future.
Satellites orbiting the Earth.
Cities illuminated by unnatural light.
Cameras—countless, watching, recording, identifying.
Technology evolving at an impossible rate.
Gasps spread through the hall.
Then the vision darkened.
War.
Explosions tearing through hidden magical enclaves.
Wizards hunted.
Captured.
Destroyed.
Muggle weapons raining fire upon ancient bloodlines.
Silence fell.
Heavy. Suffocating.
I lowered my hand slowly.
"As you see…"
My voice dropped, quieter now—but sharper.
"They will find us."
I stepped forward.
"They will attack us."
Another step.
"They will destroy us."
Then—
My tone shifted.
Rising.
Commanding.
"Will we wait?"
My voice echoed like thunder.
"Will we sit in hiding, clinging to outdated laws and false hope?"
A pause.
Then—
"No."
The word struck like a spell.
"We will not wait."
"We will not hide."
"We will not fall."
The energy in the room shifted.
Fear…
Becoming something else.
Resolve.
"We will rise."
I extended my hand outward, as if offering them the future itself.
"This is not conquest."
"This is survival."
"This is the greater good."
My gaze sharpened, locking onto individuals within the crowd—key figures, allies, doubters.
"To the greatest among you…"
A subtle nod.
"I will need your strength."
"To the youngest…"
My eyes softened slightly.
"Your future depends on this."
Then—
I turned my attention deliberately toward a group near the center.
Muggle-borns.
"Even you."
A murmur spread.
"You may still feel ties to the non-magical world."
"And that is understandable."
I stepped closer.
"But magic chose you."
The words settled heavily.
"You are not outsiders."
"You are not lesser."
A deliberate pause.
"You are ours."
The shift was immediate.
Not complete—but significant.
Doubt… cracking.
"Yes," I continued smoothly, "there are those among the old families who look down upon you."
A faint, almost dismissive wave of my hand.
"That… is a failure of leadership."
I let that sink in.
"In the world we will build…"
My voice lowered, almost intimate now.
"A new golden age of magic…"
I looked across all of them.
Every faction.
Every bloodline.
Every ambition.
"We rise together."
Then—
My voice hardened.
"Because the true enemy…"
A single glance upward—toward the fading vision.
"Is coming."
Silence.
Absolute.
"How long," I asked softly, "before they turn their weapons on us?"
"How long before they see us?"
No one answered.
They didn't need to.
I spread my arms slightly.
"Together… we can build a world where magic stands above fear."
"Where we are not hunted."
"Where we are not forced into shadows."
A final pause.
"Join me."
The words were simple.
But the magic behind them…
Was not.
The air itself seemed to hold its breath.
The crowd stood at the edge of something vast.
Something irreversible.
And hidden among them—
Aurors.
Order members.
Perhaps even…
Dumbledore himself.
Watching.
Waiting.
Calculating.
I smiled faintly.
Let them.
Because this…
Was only the beginning.