"He would have been caught sooner or later by Professor Borns anyway, wouldn't he? Besides, I am the one who was wronged and retaliated," Anduin said with a casual shrug, dismissing Rosier. "Now go back to the others. Get in touch if anything suspicious happens."
Rosier, still baffled by the sudden, humiliating capitulation of his elders, simply nodded and quickly slipped out of Anduin's private room.
"My assessment was correct," Anduin mused to himself, reviewing the day's events. "Those arrogant fools lack the courage to launch a full-scale, direct attack within the school walls. Professor Borns has definitely extended his surveillance to the entire university grounds, though he seems focused primarily on the upperclassmen, which is why he didn't detect the chaos in the abandoned restroom this afternoon."
The realization solidified his timeline. "I must accelerate my schedule. They will not abandon their plan for retribution; they've only delayed it until the next school break. I must complete my preparation within the next few weeks."
A few days later, the Christmas holidays officially began at Hogwarts. The Great Hall emptied quickly as students rushed home, but Anduin had already decided: he would stay at the school. He needed the uninterrupted time and the vast, mostly empty castle to dedicate himself entirely to arming his mind and body, preparing for the lethal mission ahead.
He returned to the Forbidden Forest Lodge, where Hagrid was delighted to have the company.
Through his regular, carefully worded correspondence with Augusta Longbottom, Anduin received the grim updates on Frank and Alice. The Death Eaters' prolonged use of the Cruciatus Curse had inflicted nearly irreversible injuries and profound, almost complete, memory loss. They were now permanent residents of the secured, long-term care wards at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Wounds.
Augusta's final letter was heartbreaking, the ink smudged in places where her tears had fallen, yet she maintained a fierce, unwavering strength for her grandson, Neville. Anduin folded the letter slowly, his expression hardening.
"If you strike first, you can't blame me for the final, finishing blow," Anduin whispered, his eyes flashing with a cold, dangerous resolve.
Hagrid was happy to have him, but Anduin spent almost every waking hour outside of meals locked away in his small room next to the giant's parlor. Loud, rhythmic crashing noises frequently echoed from the small room—the sounds of training spells impacting a charmed, invisible target.
As it was Christmas, Anduin even asked Hagrid for a truly unusual gift: a piece of the Chimera pelt that Hagrid used as a rug near his fireplace.
The Chimera, a monstrous, bloodthirsty creature native to Greece with the head of a lion, the body of a goat, and the tail of a dragon, possessed an exceptionally tough hide that Hagrid had somehow acquired and was using as a pillow cover. Its tough, magically resistant nature was exactly what Anduin needed for a piece of defensive gear.
That evening, during dinner, Hagrid watched Anduin intently reading a dense, factual book on the history and politics of pureblood families.
"What's the matter, Anduin? Are you reading that kind of dry old book now?" Hagrid asked curiously, piling mashed potatoes onto his plate.
"Knowing oneself and one's enemy, Hagrid, is the key to victory in any engagement," Anduin replied, not looking up from the text.
"An 'engagement'? What does that mean? Why do I suddenly get a terrible sense of impending trouble from you, young man?" Hagrid frowned, sensing the shift in Anduin's focus from academic curiosity to something far more serious.
"It's nothing to worry about," Anduin dismissed the concern with a shake of his head. He changed the subject. "Did you know that ever since the International Statute of Secrecy came into effect, most of the old, established pureblood wizards have been deeply opposed to it?"
Hagrid scratched his bushy beard. "Really? That's awful. They ought to respect the laws."
"They have, eventually, but not entirely out of respect for law," Anduin continued. "Over the years, many of the old families began to quietly observe the Statute of Secrecy. And because of this observance, many of them never supported the Death Eaters openly."
"Oh? Why is that?" Hagrid asked, intrigued.
"It boils down to profit and control. Many pureblood families secretly maintained their connections to the Muggle world—not through marriage, but through business and political dealings. They acquired vast amounts of wealth, land, and influence through their maneuvers within Muggle society. Many of these families already occupy the upper echelons of Muggle power and government. They simply wouldn't tolerate Muggles-hating fanatics like the Death Eaters disrupting their lucrative enterprise." Anduin spoke with a cynical detachment.
"And what about the ones who do hate Muggles, like those poor folk in Azkaban?"
"On the other hand," Anduin said, leaning forward and meeting Hagrid's eyes, "consider this: if the wizarding world and the Muggle world ever went to war, who do you think would actually win?"
Hagrid pondered this for a moment, then answered honestly. "Well, wizards all know magic. They can create things out of thin air, or turn a mouse into a teacup. Wizards should have the upper hand in any battle, shouldn't they?"
Anduin slowly shook his head, a grim expression on his face. "No, Hagrid. If the two sides truly went to war, I guarantee the wizarding world would be utterly unable to withstand a serious Muggle attack. You aren't a Muggle, so you don't fully comprehend, but the sheer power of Muggle weapons is far beyond wizarding imagination. We would be lucky to simply escape their mass searches and attacks alive."
"Many of the cunning pureblood families understand this perfectly well, having been in contact with Muggles for centuries. They would never choose to lose their lives, their wealth, and their status over a foolish, suicidal cause like total Muggle subjugation."
"What? Are Muggles that scary? I've met plenty, and they don't even have magic. They can't create things out of nothing!" Hagrid exclaimed, visibly unsettled by Anduin's certainty.
"You're right, wizards possess an overwhelming advantage in the supernatural domain—personal power, utility, and immediate spellcasting," Anduin conceded. "But when it comes to raw, overwhelming, industrial-scale destructive power, the two worlds aren't even comparable. Have you ever seen a single spell that could vaporize an island with a simple hand gesture?"
"Tch, you must be joking. How could such magic even be possible?" Hagrid stared in wide-eyed disbelief.
"But Muggles possess that capability, Hagrid. They have forces that dwarf any single wizard's power. That is why upholding and protecting the International Statute of Secrecy is, ironically, the most responsible way to protect the existence of the wizarding world." Anduin paused, his expression turning dark. "Though there is one major flaw in that policy…"
"But what?"
"But if wizards remain completely and willingly ignorant of the Muggle world—if their understanding of non-magical people is stuck hundreds of years in the past—they will inevitably develop an arrogant, ignorant sense of superiority, exactly like the Death Eaters do. That, Hagrid, is the most dangerous thing of all." Anduin gave a cynical shrug.
"Are you saying that this kind of systematic ignorance could lead to the emergence of organizations like the Death Eaters again and again?" Hagrid asked, his eyes widening in horror. "Good heavens, doesn't that mean that even if the Death Eaters were completely destroyed today, a new group just like them would reappear within a few decades?"
Anduin nodded slowly. "I think you finally grasp the underlying structure of the problem. This cycle has repeated itself. Grindelwald, who nearly overran the wizarding world, exploited that exact isolation and ignorance. Even now, there are active organizations like the 'Purifiers' in the American magical world and the 'Pure Land Society' in Northern Europe."
"Because so many wizards deliberately cut off all contact with the Muggle world, they easily cultivate a strange, misplaced sense of genetic superiority over non-magical people. They become susceptible to manipulation, bewitched, or coerced by those with ulterior motives, and they gradually slide into depravity and outright terrorism."
"Oh my God!" Anduin's concise explanation was shattering Hagrid's comfortable, isolated view of the world. It was as if someone had told him that the seemingly peaceful, stable magical world was actually teeming with unexploded ideological bombs.