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

Since that prophecy about the Muggle world, Grindelwald has not stepped into the fog of fate for a long time.

However, sleep brought no peace tonight. He was plunged into a bizarre and fragmented dream, where countless unfamiliar symbols burned, spun, and collided in the darkness. They did not belong to any magical system he knew, yet the power they contained was breathtakingly vast, distorting space and time, reshaping the laws, and even... surpassing the Muggle steel creations he had glimpsed in the prophecy that were capable of destroying cities.

It was a power called runes, unfamiliar, primal, yet incredibly powerful.

Grindelwald sat up abruptly in bed, his silver-gray hair plastered messily to his sweaty forehead. His right hand instinctively gripped the wand hidden in his sleeve, the wand still seeming to retain the burning heat of the runes from his dream.

"Runes..." Grindelwald murmured the word, his fingertips tracing the intricate carvings on the armchair.

He had seen countless black magic and ancient secret arts, but he had never felt such a strong sense of unease. This prophecy was too bizarre. If he told the saints, it would only cause unnecessary panic and might even make them question their own judgment.

He stood up, walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, and looked down at the silent forest outside Nurmengard.

The mist swirled through the forest, much like the energy fluctuations surrounding the runes in my dream. "Looks like I'll have to go there myself."

Grindelwald's lips curled into a cold smile. He was used to being in control of everything, rather than being led by the unknown. Only by touching that power with his own hands could he feel at ease.

A soft knock came from outside the door. It was his personal attendant: "My lord, Armand Rozier of the Rozier family is waiting outside the drawing room."

The reception room was sparsely decorated, featuring only huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the magnificent valley. Grindelwald stood with his back to Armand by the window, like a statue that blended into the entire mountain range.

"Rosier." Grindelwald didn't turn around, his voice calm yet carrying an invisible pressure. "Your family is like grass on a wall, bending whichever way the wind blows. You apply for special protection from the Ministry of Magic, while your father declares allegiance to me. Do you think such loyalty is worth a few Galleons?"

"Tell me, what you've brought this time—Paris's sincerity, or just another...wait and see?"

Armand broke out in a cold sweat instantly, and he quickly bowed: "Lord Grindelwald, the Rosier family has always revered the noble cause you pursue, but... the French Ministry of Magic is riddled with factions, and we..."

"Sit." Grindelwald gestured to the chair opposite him, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable sense of pressure. Armand forced himself to sit down.

"You French people's political art is always so...flexible,"

Armand's lips moved, but he couldn't utter a single syllable to defend himself against the accusation of being "two-faced." Grindelwald enjoyed his predicament and slowly walked around him.

"Relax, child." He finally stopped in front of Armand, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"I appreciate flexibility, as long as it can eventually taut to deliver the fatal blow. You Rosiers want a place in the new order? Fine, prove your worth. When my flag is planted at the gates of Paris, I need not resistance from the French Ministry of Magic, but a surrender document signed by your father, representing the French magical community. Tell me, can you do that?"

Armand's cheek twitched slightly, but he quickly regained his composure: "Your Excellency, the situation is clear, and those with insight will naturally know to follow the trend. Our family has always firmly believed that the 'greater interests' you have described are the future of the magical world."

"Oh?" Grindelwald turned around, his voice low and seductive.

"I don't need a bloody conquest; that's too vulgar and too troublesome. What I need is a legitimate and dignified transfer of power. France needs to prove to the wizards of the world that they willingly embrace change, rather than succumb to violence."

Armand instantly understood Grindelwald's meaning: this was not an order, but a deal.

"My lord, you mean...?"

"My saints will launch a swift and targeted raid." Grindelwald's lips curled into a cold smile.

"There is only one goal: to eliminate those fools in the French Ministry of Magic who are clamoring for war against me. They will die, but their deaths will be worthwhile. Their deaths will give the rest of us a perfect excuse."

He stared into Armand's eyes and said, slowly and deliberately:

"When the pro-war faction is purged and the Ministry of Magic is plunged into chaos and fear, it will be your Rosier family's turn to step in. You will step forward, unite with those wavering centrists, and in the name of 'avoiding further bloodshed' and 'for the peace of the French wizarding world,' represent the French Ministry of Magic to surrender to my sorcerer party... a dignified, forced surrender."

Armand's heart pounded. The plan was bold, insidious, yet flawless.

This is not only a military victory, but also a complete political triumph. The Rozier family will play a key role in this transformation, and their position in France will be unshakeable in Grindelwald's new order.

Armand took a deep breath, realizing it was time to make his stance clear: "As long as your power sweeps away those stubborn hawks in the Ministry of Magic, our Rosier family is confident that we can unite with other pure-blood families and neutral factions to quickly stabilize the situation and, on behalf of France, welcome the arrival of the Sorcerers."

He paused slightly, then added, "in a...decent way."

"Very good." Grindelwald picked up his glass, gently swirling the red wine inside. "Remember, I only give one chance for loyalty to the Rozier family..."

"For the greater good, Your Excellency." Armand bowed respectfully, expressing his stance.

Grindelwald's lips curled into a barely perceptible smile. Taking control of the French magical world with minimal bloodshed was in his best interest.

"Very well, remember your promise, Armand, you may leave."

After Armand respectfully withdrew, the wall on one side of the reception room rippled like water, and a figure in a magnificent purple-black dress silently emerged—it was LeBlanc. A playful smile graced her face, as if everything that had just happened was nothing more than an amusing drama.

"You gave Rozier this flag at just the right time; you've proven your worth."

"Your scripts are always so captivating, my leader." LeBlanc's voice carried a unique magnetism. "You've used the Rozier family as a pawn perfectly, achieving the greatest political gain at the lowest cost."

"The process doesn't matter, LeBlanc." Grindelwald looked out the window again. "France is just the beginning. You've earned my trust, so I need you to do something else."

He paused for a moment, then said, "Go to the Soviet Union."

LeBlanc raised her eyebrows slightly, but showed no surprise.

"The magical world of Tsarist Russia... the Soviet Union, has completely closed itself off ever since that revolution broke out among their Muggles." Grindelwald's voice carried a hint of inquiry.

"They were afraid of the Muggles, afraid of their thoughts. They deliberately severed all ties with the Muggles, burying their heads in the Siberian permafrost like a flock of ostriches. This isolation may have made them weak and vulnerable, or it may have... allowed them to cultivate some unknown strength in their solitude."

His fingers tapped unconsciously on the window frame, and the strange runes flashed through his mind again.

"I need to know their current attitude." Grindelwald's eyes deepened. "Go and make contact with them, find out their true strength and weaknesses, see if they are potential allies or the next target to be 'liberated,' and while you're at it, see if there are any legends circulating about them."

"As you wish." LeBlanc gave an elegant bow, turned and walked toward the heavy wooden door leading to her secret passage, her face still bearing that confident smile of complete control.

She reached out, grasped the cold brass doorknob, and turned it gently.

Lux opened the door to find the room already bustling with activity. Professor Flitwick was standing on a raised chair, demonstrating the Silent Charm technique to Miranda and Elena. Jones was fiddling with a scarecrow that moved automatically, with several slips of paper attached to it that read "Disarm Charm" and "Petrify Charm," clearly intended to simulate an opponent's attack.

"Lux! You've come at the perfect time!" Professor Flitwick's eyes lit up when he saw her, and he jumped off his chair. "Today we're practicing silent spell duels. Miranda can already do multiple silent spells in a row. Why don't you give it a try?"