Hogwarts: Lacus doesn't want to be a witch who destroys nations.

LeBlanc is busy every day.

At the end of May 1939, the wind in Memel harbor still carried the salty and cold air of the Baltic Sea.

Not long ago, Germany's ultimatum was ruthlessly trampled on this long-controversial land.

Today, the swastika has replaced the tricolor flag, fluttering lifelessly atop the spires of Gothic buildings. The city is shrouded in an eerie silence, as most of the Jewish people have long since fled, leaving behind an empty city shrouded in fear and uncertainty.

One of LeBlanc's alter egos, an ordinary Muggle woman named Anna, was walking down the street, wearing a worn-out gray coat.

Her face was ordinary, her eyes slightly numb; she was the kind of person you would forget after just one glance in a crowd. In this city where everyone was on edge, this inconspicuousness was the best disguise.

At the checkpoint, several soldiers in crisp German uniforms were patrolling back and forth. Inside the cuff of the leading officer's sleeve, a badge composed of a twisted wand and a skull was faintly visible. He was more arrogant than the other Germans.

The soldiers roughly opened the refugees' packages and boxes, scattering tattered clothes, dry bread, and even some personal belongings on the ground, eliciting suppressed sobs and silent anger.

"Open! Open them all!" a young soldier shouted, shoving the crowd with his rifle butt. "Who knows if you rats have anything hidden!"

LeBlanc, playing Anna, lowered her head, her cloudy eyes seemingly unfocused. Just as a soldier's rifle butt was about to pierce her face, she just barely managed to slip her hand, and the old wicker trunk fell to the muddy ground with a "thud."

A cheap, dented tea canister rolled out, covered in mud.

"Idiot! Watch where you're going!" the soldier cursed in disgust, kicking the unsightly can away, the mud splattering onto his boots and making him even more irritated. "Can't you guys even walk properly?!"

LeBlanc, playing Anna, merely flinched and whispered in a hoarse voice, "I'm sorry... sir... I'm sorry..."

He didn't notice at all that the moment his boot sole touched the mud, a faint, almost invisible, purplish light, like a living thing, silently slipped into the gaps of his leather boot along with the mud and water.

LeBlanc's magic has taken root.

Her keen senses acted like an invisible net, capturing every subtle change in the air and transmitting all the information back to her home in France in real time.

Her target was a small pub near the docks, which had become a gathering place for newly arrived German officers and certain special advisors; she needed clearer information about the UMNO.

Anna walked into the tavern with her head down, and a strong smell of rye beer, cheap tobacco, and wet wool hit her.

Several men dressed in crisp German Wehrmacht officer uniforms sat around a table, talking and laughing loudly. Their uniforms were standard field gray, with meticulous double braids on their collars indicating their ranks, and silver imperial eagle badges on their right breasts.

"...We must thoroughly clean up this area," said a scarred officer, tapping his fingers on the table. "The remnants of the old era, the outdated magic, must make way for purer power."

Another officer sneered and added, "That's right, this place will soon become a model of the new order, and anyone who doesn't cooperate... will end up like those Muggles."

LeBlanc saw through their disguise.

These officers exuded a power distinct from that of Muggles; they were wizards of the Mughal Party, followers of Grindelwald.

Instead of wearing traditional wizard robes, they chose to blend seamlessly into the nationalist fervor sweeping across Europe. This military uniform allowed them to move freely in the Muggle world and operate in Europe under Grindelwald's instructions.

In LeBlanc's view, this approach was both clever and foolish. It was clever because it used this currently unstoppable political force in Europe as a cover, but foolish because it tied her fate so deeply to a short-sighted regime.

Such regimes were countless in LeBlanc's memory of Noxus.

LeBlanc calmly analyzed the situation through Anna's eyes.

These wizards weren't top-tier, but they were disciplined and their actions carried a chilling aura. They discussed how to purify the magical ecosystem of the Memel region and eliminate those who were hostile or whose magical traditions were outdated.

Wizardry is supreme, breaking the protection laws, and wizards must control all activities of Muggles.

This rhetoric is almost identical to Nazi racial theory, LeBlanc assessed. While the power of the UMNO was dangerous, its ideology was too simplistic and crude, lacking any real foresight.

They are a sharp knife in Grindelwald's hands, but ultimately just a tool. If Grindelwald falls, these UMNO parties will probably collapse instantly.

Meanwhile, in a luxurious apartment in Paris, another version of LeBlanc, a graceful lady, is standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, holding a glass of Bordeaux red wine.

Behind the noblewoman, a young sorcerer sat uneasily on a velvet sofa. He came from an ancient French pure-blood family and had a good talent for potions, but was somewhat timid.

"Madam, I don't understand..." The wizard's voice hesitated. "Can we really trust the new order that Grindelwald brings? This feeling... is too intense."

The noblewoman turned around, her smile gentle and charming, her voice like the softest lullaby: "My dear child, change is always accompanied by growing pains, but what we seek is a more glorious future for magic itself, a true awakening of the power of blood. Don't you want to see your potion-making skills shine on a greater, more respected stage? This is far from narrow politics, but a... revival."

She slowly recounted a vision of the inheritance and great revival of ancient magic.

The wizard's eyes gradually shifted from initial wariness to confusion, and finally to a fervent longing.

"A revival..." he murmured to himself.

LeBlanc gently raised her wand, its tip shimmering with a faint light. She combined Oblivion and Confusion in an extremely subtle way, like the finest scalpel, precisely slicing into the depths of the wizard's consciousness.

Instead of brutally erasing or distorting his memories, she constructed a hidden compartment in his mind, where he remained the pure-blooded nobleman obsessed with potion research, living his normal life.

However, one day in the future, in a specific setting, his consciousness will be temporarily taken over by LeBlanc, who calls this nascent organization the Black Rose.

Its members are few, each one carefully selected and personally shaped by her, and they themselves are unaware that they are a member of the Black Rose.

In a remote village in Germany, LeBlanc herself sat alone in a wooden cabin.

LeBlanc's true form opened her eyes from meditation, and the tensions in Europe and the strategic arrangements in Paris were clearly presented in her mind.

"Poor child..." LeBlanc murmured, her voice carrying a complex emotion she herself was unaware of.

She firmly believed that Lux was an alter ego she had carefully implanted in Hogwarts, a hidden pawn she had planted in the British wizarding world before she was sealed away.

At this moment, the only thing that stirred a ripple in her heart was her own self far away at Hogwarts. She still stubbornly believed that Lux was the most special and the most vulnerable of all her incarnations.

Whenever she thought of Lux's laughter, she saw it as nothing more than a mask she had to wear to survive in a dangerous place surrounded by powerful enemies. She could even imagine Lux trembling alone in a dark corner of the library.

A black owl silently flew out carrying a encrypted letter, heading towards Hogwarts. The letter contained LeBlanc's instructions: "Be vigilant. Shadows are spreading. Durmstrang's dark tentacles are stirring. Hold your position, my shadow."

She imagined Lux ​​in some secluded corner, her fingers trembling as she opened the letter, reading its contents, her face showing fear and a sense of duty, along with the happiness of being cared for by her own being.

LeBlanc had no idea that Lux's life at Hogwarts might be much easier and more enjoyable than she imagined.

In the Hogwarts library, Lacus is fighting for another matter of life and death.

Lux's history of magic assignment was not a subject she was good at, because the history of wizards was long and complicated, and the information was hard to find. The professors who taught the class always tried to tell them some unofficial history, so Lux was always confused when she received the assignment.

Faced with the dry essay titled "On the Roots of the Fairy Rebellion" on the unfolded parchment, Lux felt her eyelids were heavier than if she had been put under a sleeping spell.

"Merlin's beard... this is worse than dealing with a whole horde of giants!" she groaned softly as she slumped onto the table.

A brilliant idea struck her. She pulled a quill pen from her pocket and began chanting incantations, trying to create a magical spell that would "automatically think and write homework." "Come on, honey, use your ingenuity! Write something the professor will like!"

After being subjected to seven or eight variations of the Levitation Charm, Copy Charm, and Confusion Charm, the quill finally stood up shakily and began to write automatically on the parchment.

Lux was overjoyed and leaned closer to take a look. She saw that the quill pen was writing in a flamboyant, messy handwriting: "According to unofficial history, the root of the goblin rebellion was that Merlin hung his unwashed underwear on the head of the goblin king, and that the Hogwarts kings, led by Dumbledore, subjected the goblins to the ultimate insult..."

Lux snatched the quill pen in fright, looking around in terror. "Stop! You stupid pen! Do you want me to be locked up by Old Deng until graduation?!"

No, what history is this quill pen used to write?

Forget it, I might as well skip this homework and go see what delicious food the Hogwarts kitchen is making today.

Lux shrugged, abandoning her history of magic assignment, then kicked Lumi, who was fast asleep under the table. "Wake up! It's an emergency! We need the house-elf's lemon tart to save the world."

Lumi groggily looked up: "...Huh? What's wrong with the world now?"

"My thesis just tried to kill me, this is the end of the world," Lux said with a serious expression, then walked straight to the Hogwarts kitchen.