Where has the time gone? I find myself asking that as I look at the date on the enchanted clock.1970.
The dawn of a new era. The era where everything changes.Lily Evans and the Marauders have just entered Hogwarts, blissfully unaware of what is about to unfold.
And so I decide.It's time.The Second Wizarding War begins.
But this war will not be one of reckless bloodshed. Not yet.This war will be strategic. Subtle. Manipulative.If I am to reshape the Wizarding World, it must not see me as its villain—it must see me as its savior.
I already own the Daily Prophet and several other major papers. Their words are mine to command, their quills my soldiers. Through them, I can twist perception, mold fear, and shape reality itself.
And so the first strike of my war… is propaganda.
The morning editions begin to flood every home across wizarding Britain and beyond—articles warning of Muggle advancement, technological threats, and inevitable exposure. Fear is the easiest seed to plant.Fear grows quickly.
Next, I let the headlines shift—subtly at first—turning suspicion toward Dumbledore.The papers whisper of his "hidden past," of his secret brotherhoods and "unholy experiments."They speak of a shadowy group called the Dark Forces, supposedly under his command.
I make sure the Prophet prints that Nicholas Flamel and Dumbledore together unleashed the Black Plague in an attempt to create the Philosopher's Stone.I ensure that whispers spread that Dumbledore and Grindelwald were lovers—his mercy at Nurmengard nothing more than a lover's favor.
It's all lies, of course. But history is written by the victors, and I fully intend to win.
As the flames of propaganda rise, the people begin to question everything they thought they knew.The noble Dumbledore begins to look like the serpent in the garden.And me? I become the voice of reason. The savior warning them of the truth.
The war has already begun.And not a single spell has been cast.