"First, I must tell you that the Department of Mysteries exists as the last line of defence protecting our world from forces most wizards cannot even imagine," Aiden began solemnly.
Inside the warm headmaster's office, Aiden's voice continued to echo off the ancient stone walls as Dumbledore graciously handed steaming cups of tea to both young men.
"Like the Aurors do?" Harry asked after thinking for a moment, trying to understand the comparison.
"Similar in purpose, but their targets are far more dangerous. They face the legendary Deep Realm Kings."
The moment these four ominous words left Aiden's mouth, Harry immediately covered the lightning bolt scar on his forehead as sharp pain lanced through his skull.
"Hiss! What is that?" Harry asked through gritted teeth, his face contorting with sudden agony.
"In the distant past, wizards discovered they possessed incredibly powerful mental energy that went far beyond simple spellcasting," Aiden explained patiently, watching Harry's reaction with concern. "Wizards naturally desired to harness this raw power for themselves, and thus began their dangerous journey of exploring the deepest recesses of the mind."
Aiden paused, his expression growing darker. "Because their research went too deep and became too obsessive, it ultimately led to the catastrophic appearance of six Deep Realm Kings."
Aiden casually waved his hand through the air, and the terrifying shadows of Hell, Folly, Entropy, Resentment, Life, and Chaos appeared one by one before Harry like a gallery of nightmares given form.
"Ugh!" When the shadow of Chaos materialised with its writhing, incomprehensible shape, Harry clutched his forehead desperately and collapsed back into his chair, his entire body trembling.
"Enough! Don't be so hasty with your demonstrations!" Dumbledore stepped forward immediately, positioning himself protectively between Harry and the horrifying apparitions.
"But Professor, how much longer can you realistically protect him like this?" Aiden asked with gentle but firm insistence. "He'll have to face these truths eventually, whether we prepare him or not. And now Sister Tom can already be considered half an incarnation of Chaos itself."
Aiden's voice grew more urgent. "Her chaotic nature perfectly matches Chaos's essence, plus she possesses the magical power of an exceptionally skilled wizard. Once she successfully uses Chaos to advance even further along that dark path, the victor in the prophecy will be permanently locked in place."
Aiden stared directly at Dumbledore with unwavering intensity. After a long, tense silence filled only by the crackling of the fireplace, Dumbledore reluctantly stepped aside.
"Aiden, please continue. I can handle whatever you need to show me!" Harry struggled to sit upright in his chair, his jaw set with determined courage.
"A thousand years ago, I personally fought alongside Salazar, Godric, Helga, and Rowena when we once defeated the physical incarnations of the Deep Realm Kings in a war that nearly destroyed the wizarding world," Aiden began his tale with the weight of ancient history.
"Afterward, we carefully sealed the core fragments of Chaos inside the very foundations of Hogwarts itself, using the castle as both prison and guardian. Tom Riddle, possessing Salazar's direct bloodline, naturally had tremendous authority within the school's magical defences."
Aiden's expression darkened with old anger. "She managed to touch the protective seal we had left behind and successfully stole a fragment of Chaos's core essence. Later, she used her own powerful consciousness to steal a significant portion of Chaos's accumulated power, which is exactly why her very name brings such paralysing fear to people throughout magical Britain."
Aiden calmly narrated these devastating past events while Harry carefully memorised every crucial detail, understanding that his life might depend on this knowledge.
"So what exactly does Voldemort want to accomplish?" Harry asked with growing dread.
"She..." Dumbledore also frowned deeply, looking toward Aiden with obvious concern about the answer.
"She wants to systematically collect fear on a massive scale and transform herself into a completely new Deep Realm King!" Aiden delivered his chilling conclusion.
"That's absolutely impossible," Dumbledore immediately protested, shaking his head vigorously. "Fear is simply a biological instinct shared by all living creatures, while Deep Realm Kings are products of specific wizard agreements and ancient magical contracts."
"But fear can be artificially created in enormous quantities through systematic terror campaigns, along with new agreements forged in blood and desperation," Aiden replied, his eyes narrowing with dark knowledge.
Dumbledore suddenly stood up from his chair with such force that it scraped loudly against the stone floor.
"She wants to incite a massive massacre across the entire wizarding world?" Dumbledore asked with horror, immediately grasping the full implications of Aiden's meaning.
"Exactly." Aiden interlocked his fingers and rested them thoughtfully under his chin.
"Then we need to hurry and stop her before she can begin!" Harry said, looking between the two older wizards with obvious confusion about their apparent hesitation.
"The fundamental problem now is that we simply cannot locate her anywhere," Dumbledore explained to Harry with frustrated resignation.
"It's really far too easy for experienced wizards to completely hide themselves when they truly want to disappear," Aiden added with a casual shrug.
Harry also lowered his head, finally recognising that he was being too hasty in his desire for immediate action.
Then Aiden stood up gracefully, preparing to return to the familiar comforts of Ravenclaw Tower for the night.
Before leaving the office, he turned back toward Harry and delivered a final warning. "By the way, the matter of the Deep Realm Kings absolutely cannot be leaked to anyone outside this room, or the binding power of the Unspeakable contract will prove quite formidable in its punishment."
Hearing Aiden's ominous words, Harry couldn't help but think of the permanent scars still marking Marietta's face as a constant reminder of magical consequences.
Walking out of the headmaster's office with measured steps, Aiden returned to the welcoming atmosphere of Ravenclaw Tower. Just as he arrived, the new issue of the Wizard Daily had been delivered to Hogwarts by a fleet of messenger owls, and the public reputations of all three key figures were finally restored to their former glory.
"Aiden!" Ethan rushed over with obvious relief and gave him an enthusiastic, heartfelt hug.
"Oh, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," Aiden replied with his usual warm smile.
"You... as long as you're safe and back with us!" Ethan said emotionally, not knowing exactly what words could express his relief properly.
"Shouldn't our distinguished Master Prewett properly thank his loyal media ally?" Edmund approached from behind with characteristic smugness, hooking his arm around Aiden's shoulder in a brotherly gesture.
"I'll send you the latest model Firebolt racing broom next time I'm shopping," Aiden replied with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression.
"Mmm, that sounds really quite generous," Edmund nodded with obvious satisfaction at this promised reward.
"So, Fudge has finally fallen from power, and the entire Ministry has fallen directly into your hands," Edmund said with renewed seriousness after their brief moment of joking.
"Mm-hmm," Aiden replied with a satisfied smile.
"My God, no wonder my father always said that when a Lestrange senses the changing winds of history, you must absolutely trust his intuition without question," Edmund muttered with something approaching awe.
"Do your family's intuitions have any particular limitations? Is it simply pure intuitive sharpness?" Aiden asked with genuine curiosity about this hereditary ability.
"No, it's much more specific than that. I had the strangest feeling before all this began, like I was seeing my ideal dream lover when I looked at you," Edmund explained with obvious embarrassment. "At the time I genuinely thought there was something fundamentally wrong with my romantic orientation, so I wrote to ask my father about it and finally learnt the truth."
Edmund's cheeks reddened slightly. "This is our family's unique method for identifying crucial historical crossroads and moments of destiny."
"Uh, pardon my boldness, but when your Lestrange family's intuition activates like that, is it similar to going into heat?" Aiden asked with barely suppressed laughter, having discovered what he considered a fascinating blind spot.
"Absolute nonsense! This is because we're affected by higher-level magical disturbances in the fabric of reality itself," Edmund began arguing stubbornly, his face growing redder. "And what do you mean by heat? This is called intuition activation, nothing more! Just tell me whether this intuition has proven accurate or not!"
Edmund's indignant protests filled the dormitory with a cheerful, familiar atmosphere as his friends laughed at his expense.
Outside the warm confines of Hogwarts, the storm of public opinion continued to ferment and spread throughout magical Britain like wildfire.
Because many prominent Death Eaters had been subdued and captured within the Ministry itself, the conservative faction's political power was dramatically diminished almost overnight.
Large numbers of Ministry employees found themselves transferred to new positions, and Amelia Bones thoughtfully established a brand new department where all the displaced personnel were efficiently dumped together.
This new department was officially called the Dragon Dung Management Office, much to Professor Sprout's vocal dismay and endless grumbling about the appropriation of her speciality.
At the same time, the newly reorganised Ministry issued urgent orders for large-scale coordinated raids against known Death Eater sympathisers and hideouts.
On Rufus Scrimgeour's strongly worded recommendation, they lifted all previous restrictions preventing Aurors from using Unforgivable Curses in the line of duty.
The metaphorical bullets were loaded, and the approaching storm was rapidly intensifying.
Inside the peaceful school, Professor Flitwick had carefully restored the swamp corridor that the twins had magically transformed back to its original pristine state.
But he thoughtfully left a small patch of the boggy terrain as a permanent memorial to those two remarkable children who had brought so much laughter and joy to everyone during their time at Hogwarts.
Dumbledore ventured alone into the dangerous depths of the Forbidden Forest and successfully brought back Umbridge, who had been unceremoniously thrown to the centaurs by the transformed Filch. He sent her directly to the hospital wing for immediate medical treatment.
She appeared to suffer from extremely severe traumatic stress disorder, convulsing wildly whenever she caught sight of someone wearing a monocle or heard even the distant sound of hoofbeats echoing through the corridors.
Draco Malfoy was extremely agitated due to his father's arrest and imprisonment once again. He brought his two usual followers to corner Harry aggressively in a deserted corridor. Seeing the hostile approach of the angry Draco, Harry also drew his wand in preparation for confrontation.
"Preparing to use magic in the corridor without authorisation. Minus ten points from Gryffindor," came a dull, familiar voice from directly behind Harry.
The distinctive sound of a walking cane striking the stone floor rang out with authority. Tap tap tap, as if someone was rapidly approaching with purposeful intent.
"Professor McGonagall!" Harry exclaimed with relief upon seeing the newcomer.
It was Professor McGonagall herself, who had finally returned from her extended treatment at St Mungo's Hospital, looking stern but healthy.
"Mr Potter, plus fifty points to Gryffindor for your demonstrated courage in opposing injustice and standing up to bullies," the Deputy Headmistress declared firmly.
Her protective attitude and immediate intervention made it extremely difficult for Snape to voice any objections to her decision.
"Hmph," Snape responded with a cold snort of displeasure, then swept away dramatically with Draco and his group trailing behind him like defeated shadows.