A certain Hogwarts professor of runes.

"What is it?" Snape asked sternly.

"If the negotiations go smoothly, there will inevitably be trade between the two sides, and potions are an important part of that. But you should know that some potions are only effective on wizards—"

“Lupin told me that,” Snape interrupted.

"Yes, in the future, someone will need to work on potion recipes, laws, and standards for ordinary people."

"So you thought of me?"

"Yes."

“Slughorn is more suitable than me.”

"He's better suited to dealing with government departments; he's adept at networking and he's happy with that. I need someone who can focus on research."

Felix said, "And it's obvious I trust you more."

The next day, at the Ministry of Magic.

“Grindelwald did indeed make his move,” Mrs. Burns said gravely, spreading a newspaper on the table. Felix, senior Ministry of Magic officials, and several members of the Order of the Phoenix stared intently at the magical photograph of Grindelwald being attacked by flames and cannon fire, while the woman beside him was ignored by everyone.

"What's going on?" Arthur Weasley gasped in shock. "The war has begun?" He wasn't exactly a high-ranking official yet, but as the former head of the Office of Misuse of Muggle Articles, he was exceptionally allowed to attend the meeting.

“Not yet, he’s still bound by his oath,” Ms. Burns said thankfully. “He did it to save lives.”

"Saving people?" Ludo Bagman's round eyes widened as he pointed to the ruins in the photo. "He was saving people? Then who did this?"

“Of course it’s the other person in the photo,” Burns said, his face grim. “Unfortunately, I’m telling the truth; he didn’t attack anyone. The Muggle television station got some footage, more complete than the photo—Percy went to get the equipment.”

The office door was pushed open from the outside, and Percy walked in, followed by a projection system.

Percy slipped a tape into the projector, then expertly pressed the button. Moments later, moving images were projected onto the wall. Everyone stared, mesmerized. The footage shakiened, but still captured the surrounding scenery.

The place looked like a chemical plant; the surrounding area was somewhat desolate, with high walls covered in barbed wire and the gate tightly shut. The helicopter's rotors roared loudly. A hand appeared in the frame, then disappeared, accompanied by a hurried, excited voice: "Over there!"

The camera then pans to a corner of the factory.

Black flames soared into the air, pouring out from a row of windows and gaps in a huge, flat building resembling a workshop. These black flames seemed to come from hell, with huge tongues of fire twisting like the hands of giants, which now closed together, engulfing anything flammable within sight into a sea of ​​fire.

"Is this—Firefire?" Mr. Weasley said weakly. Suddenly, the window burst open, and a figure tumbled out. It was a woman, completely blackened, with scraped hands and face, her hair a tangled mess, looking utterly disheveled. But she was laughing maniacally. Those present recognized her as the woman standing with Grindelwald in the newspaper.

Everyone watched in shock as the woman frantically waved her wand, the flames leaping high at her command and threatening to spread outwards. From above, it looked like an ink bottle shattering on the ground. A gasp could be heard from the reporter on screen.

“Edith Pandora’s,” Ms. Burns began, “reported by the Magical Congress of America that her daughter mysteriously disappeared not long ago. She sought help from the Congress, but the Congress had already made the decision to completely hide her and naturally wouldn’t change it for her. She disappeared for several days, and no one knew what happened during that time, only that she suddenly appeared here at five o’clock this morning, unleashing terrifying Fiendfire.”

"Her daughter is dead?" Sirius asked, his eyes wide.

"Not clear at the moment."

Don't try to fool me!

“I really don’t know,” Ms. Burns sighed, “but that place—” she gestured to the massive factory building, “was a secret laboratory, probably built for wizards, so her daughter most likely didn’t survive, otherwise she wouldn’t have…”

The office was silent and still; the atmosphere seemed frozen. Everyone stared at the screen in quiet contemplation.

Edith Pandora waved her wand with wide, sweeping motions, conveying her emotions despite her small size in the frame. Fiendfyre, as if alive, began to deform, hurling bursts of flame that scorched the ground, some nearly hitting her, but she made no attempt to dodge, instead manipulating the flames to make them grow larger.

“She wants to destroy this place,” a high-ranking official from the Ministry of Magic noticed.

“She can’t do it! Her magic isn’t skilled enough,” someone said.

“Unless she’s got a death wish,” another person shouted.

"Where did she learn this magic?"

"The investigation shows—" Ms. Borns said with a stern face and an unpleasant expression, "Edith Pandora has never learned the Fiendfire spell before."

An investigation by the Magical Congress of the United States revealed that she was just an ordinary wizard, specializing in domestic magic.

"Could it be that Grindelwald helped her?" someone asked, thinking of the two people in the photo together.

"There's no answer to that question either, but um, Grindelwald didn't appear immediately; he seems to have seen it through the live television broadcast. You guys keep watching."

A swarm the size of ants surged out from the edge of the frame, and a barrage of gunfire erupted. Edith Pandora turned to fight back, but she was quickly wounded.

She was hiding behind a gray metal can. Someone in the special operations team called out, but they were met with a series of red lights. So the team spread out in an orderly fashion and surrounded her from all sides.

A sandstorm swept through the air.

Edith Pandora's Box appeared to unleash an immature hurricane spell; a whirlwind thirty to forty feet high radiated outwards from the gray metal canister. The onslaught slowed, and the woman was temporarily out of sight. Suddenly, a hurried voice came from near the camera: "It's a military helicopter! Great!"

Two helicopters flew past them, broadcasting a warning to the reporters to evacuate immediately, but the reporters ignored it. "They don't even have serial numbers," one reporter remarked. The two armed helicopters swooped down on their target, their fuselages laden with missiles. Immediately afterward, two machine guns emerged from the cockpits, spitting out dense streams of fire. For a moment, everyone thought Edith Pandora was finished. When the smoke cleared, she was unharmed, except for one person beside her—Grindelwald. Grindelwald raised a massive shield, deflecting all the attacks, but he didn't continue fighting. Instead, he lowered his head and spoke to the woman.

The scene in the magic photo perfectly matches what's happening now.

"Pull in! Zoom in!" the reporter shouted. The camera shook for a moment, then showed Edith Pandora's desperate face, but the despair was immediately replaced by joy, then turned ferocious. Unless you were in the thick of it, you couldn't understand these changes. She pointed at the factory and spoke vehemently.

Grindelwald slowly shook his head, held up his palm for her to see, then looked at the black Fiendfire, his lips moving. They seemed to have reached an agreement. The woman ignored the threat from behind, and her wand once again commanded the Fiendfire. Everyone could see that she had no ability to control this magic; she was merely piling up flames with resentment. The consequences of doing so were bound to spiral out of control, but since Grindelwald was present, they were unsure of the outcome.

The machine gun fire briefly ceased due to Grindelwald's sudden appearance, then resumed. Two flashes of light suddenly erupted below the helicopter. Grindelwald glanced back warily, waved his wand, and the missiles exploded in mid-air.

Then, tiny blue lights, like liquid flames or burning water, emanated from the tip of his wand. The blue light flew a foot from the tip and vanished into thin air, seemingly transported elsewhere. No one knew what magic Grindelwald had used.

But the people in the conference room witnessed its effect in the next second.

Missiles were launched one after another, and they suddenly exploded automatically when they were hundreds of feet away from the two of them, as if they had hit an invisible wall. "There must be an invisible magical barrier in the air!" Sirius exclaimed excitedly.

In the next half minute, missiles exploded around the two men, but none of them could break through the barrier.

Grindelwald seemed to act impulsively, turning his attention to Edith Pandora after confirming that the helicopters and ground troops couldn't interfere with them. Fueled by extreme emotions, Fiendfire reached a peak, transforming into a monster composed of black flames.

These monsters also inherited their master's mindset; they appeared frenzied and brutal, desperately trampling the earth and charging in all directions. Edith Pandora fell to the ground, watching all of this with glee.

People at the Ministry of Magic realized that the spell had gone out of control.

As expected, the fiery monster lunged at the only two living beings in the field, relentlessly charging at them, but was blocked by an invisible force.

Grindelwald pulled the woman to her feet, raised his wand level, and instantly gained control of Fiendfyre. The black flames became incredibly docile in his hands, the fire creatures were reassembled into a ball, and like a ferocious monster, they occupied the place where the factory had once stood.

Then he suddenly waved his wand, and a hurricane a hundred times more powerful than the one Edith Pandora had used before appeared out of thin air. This whirlwind seemed to connect with the clouds in the sky, and the black Fiendfire was also torn and deformed by the gale, condensing into a stream that surged toward them.

The flames merged with the hurricane, then rapidly expanded. Helicopters in the sky scrambled to avoid them, but the flames weren't targeting them. The entire factory was engulfed and burned to the ground. Grindelwald stared at the camera amidst the raging inferno. Then, the vortex of flames suddenly contracted, and the factory was wiped off the ground, along with Grindelwald and Edith Pandora.

As the helicopter slowly approached, a huge crater appeared on the spot.

The video ended there. A long silence fell over the conference room.

“Both the International Confederation of Wizards and the Magical Congress of America have assigned personnel to search for the two men, but to no avail. They are worried that this matter will lead to greater confrontation and conflict,” Ms. Burns said dryly.

“Then let them go find Grindelwald,” Felix said uninterestedly.

The burning of the laboratory sparked considerable global reactions. The footage they witnessed at the Ministry of Magic was analyzed frame by frame by relevant departments in various countries, clearly showing that Grindelwald hadn't used his full strength. However, the conclusions reached were still chilling.

"If this magic were to appear in a city, it could destroy dozens of city blocks."

Grindelwald's past was no longer a secret, and was repeatedly reported by journalists and the media. Correspondingly, the unbreakable oath and the Ten Laws of Wizardry also appeared openly in Muggle newspapers, attracting wave after wave of heated discussions and condemnations.

Several more newspapers received letters from the students. Two newspapers remained neutral, while the rest heavily criticized the letters, perhaps hoping to provoke protests from disgruntled wizards. Naturally, they received no follow-up letters.

But these are all minor matters.

After selecting the students to participate in the special afternoon tea, Felix immediately began special training for them. The Ministry of Magic also sent specialists to train them in etiquette and eloquence, on what questions they could ask, what questions they couldn't ask, and how to deal with provocations, etc.

The students noticed that Professor Hyp seemed to have developed a new habit: he would often look up at the moon, appearing lost in thought. Hermione, of course, saw this as a dangerous sign.

"Professor, you're not thinking of going to the moon again, are you?"

"Miss Granger, do you think there are any traces of ancient wizards on the moon?"

"Hmm, that's unlikely, isn't it? If ancient wizards really did live on the moon, they would definitely have left behind some architectural remains that would have been discovered by modern telescopes..."

"What if they use magic to conceal their existence?"

"Professor, words alone are not enough!"

"Okay, actually I saw it in an ancient document..."

"Professor, your tone is strange. What's the name of the paper? May I take a look?"

"...I won't show you. You'll believe me when I bring back a few antiques from the moon."

Felix is ​​preparing to tell a colossal lie, or perhaps more than one.

Chapter 692 A Grand Fireworks Display

The appointed time arrived amidst great anticipation.

The area in front of Parliament was packed with people. Anti-wizarding protesters chose this day to demonstrate, drawing crowds from all over London and surrounding counties. Many stragglers even traveled from the north, barely having eaten a few bites of food before pulling banners and leaflets from their suitcases to join the march. But there were simply too many people. The printed leaflets were far from enough; many people, smiling, squeezed past to ask for leaflets, even giving away the organizers' pamphlets. The crowd moved slowly forward, occasionally raising their heads to shout slogans.

"Who are these people?" The organizers couldn't figure it out.

His assistant went out for a walk and came back to report.

“There are quite a few foreigners, as well as people from several nearby counties. They are here to witness this momentous historical event.” Seeing the organizer glaring at him, the assistant quickly added, “Of course, we also have many companions. I saw six or seven familiar organization names, all of which were recently established.”

He was telling the truth. At this point in time, while the internet has emerged, its influence still cannot match that of print media. This has resulted in the absence of a nationwide anti-wizard organization—most are based at the county or county level, with few spanning multiple regions. To promote their ideas, many organizations publish their messages in newspapers, including their addresses and contact numbers.

Unbeknownst to them, a small number of wizards had also infiltrated the crowd.

The procession was never short of people in strange costumes, which provided a safe environment for the wizards to hide their identities. Some wizards walked with the procession for a while, but then couldn't stand it and withdrew.

“So many people are against wizards,” Ernie Macmillan said, pale-faced, his legs trembling uncontrollably, cold sweat beading on his forehead, terrified by the massive procession.

“There were more people than at the New Year’s Day parade,” Justin Finley said, still shaken.

The sky was dark and gloomy, covered with thick, dark clouds. A light rain had fallen in the morning, but the clouds hadn't dispersed by the afternoon; instead, they had grown even thicker. The patch of sky above them looked like an overturned ink bottle, pitch black, as if a downpour could strike at any moment. The distant, chilling, greyish-white light cast an ominous glow.

More wizards chose to stand on rooftops, having received news from magical radio and newspapers, rushing to await the outcome. From above, the winding, colorful procession filled the streets, shouting resounding slogans every now and then, like raging waves of the sea. The closer they got to the Thames, the more...

The more clearly you can see the focal point where these groups are converging—the Parliament House.

A corner in front of the Parliament building was already piled high with all sorts of press vans. Well-known news media from across the country and even the world had arrived.

They were eager to obtain firsthand information, and both the wizarding community and the general public could easily draw the following conclusion:

What is about to happen today is of paramount importance, representing the first formal contact between wizards and ordinary people, and its far-reaching impact is immeasurable.

"Police were on site maintaining order, and we could see that The Sun had sent quite a few well-known reporters, including Skeeter, who rose to fame in her anti-gun news series—she had previously won a national journalism award—during the riots two weeks ago, she had a brief conversation with a wizard. We wonder if she'll have the same luck today…"

A reporter shouted into the camera, and his voice was heard in every household in the next second.

In central London—Mrs. Granger sat on the sofa, their hands clasped tightly together; Mr. Finley's cup hung in the air, the coffee inside cold; on Privet Road in Surrey, Uncle Vernon turned on the television, grumbling and uttering a few familiar swear words.

Cornwall, Ébriate, Devon, the Isle of Wight, Kent—the Parliament House holds a place that captures everyone's attention…

Two figures suddenly appeared on a tall building across the Thames. The sky was dark and the wind was blowing, so no one noticed them.