The flames shimmered before me, spiraling in a radiant dance of crimson and gold. From within, a figure emerged—a majestic phoenix unlike any I'd ever seen. Her feathers glowed like molten sunlight, and her eyes burned with intelligence and ancient pride.
I raised my hand and spoke the words of the Familiar Binding Ritual, weaving the connection through my soul and hers.The moment our bond sealed, I felt her warmth ignite within my chest—a flame that refused to die.
"My name… is Solara."
Her voice echoed softly in my mind, a blend of grace and fire.
I smiled. "A fitting name for the Queen of Flame."
With her, I gained more than companionship.A phoenix's apparate ability was unlike anything else—it could teleport through anti-apparition wards, across countries, and even through time-space disruptions. It was, simply put, overpowered.
Solara perched gracefully on my arm, her fire shimmering harmlessly against my skin. Together, we radiated an aura of both divinity and danger.
But sentiment had to give way to strategy.
With my influence spreading through Europe, it was time to cement control in Britain.Using my newfound fame, I positioned my allies within the Ministry of Magic itself.
Abraxas Malfoy became Senior Undersecretary, whispering orders into the Minister's ear.
Edward Lestrange entered the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
Charles Prince infiltrated the Unspeakables.
Orion Black secured a position on the Wizengamot.
Tam Riddle Weaselly became my shadow, overseeing secret magical research divisions under assumed names.
And in France, Itachi continued reshaping their Auror Corps into my future army.
Piece by piece, the chessboard shifted.
Dumbledore, of course, noticed.He always noticed.
The man's eyes followed me more closely now—measured, suspicious, and grim.He knew I was preparing something. He simply didn't know what.And until he did, I had the advantage.
Through newspapers and staged interviews, I positioned myself as the protector of wizardkind, warning of the dangers of Muggle discovery and the need for magical unity.The public adored me. The Ministry respected me. And even those who feared me whispered my name with awe.
Still, I could feel it—the quiet tension in the air.The calm before the storm.
At the very most, I had five years.Five years before the war began.Five years before everything—England, Dumbledore, and the wizarding world—would burn and rise anew from the ashes.
I placed my hand on Solara's fiery feathers and smiled faintly.
"Five years," I whispered. "Let's make them count."
The phoenix's golden eyes gleamed in agreement.The flame had been born—and soon, the world would feel its heat.