Lucien picked up the Hogwarts acceptance letter and slowly turned the envelope over in his hands.
The moment he saw the familiar school crest—lion, badger, eagle, and serpent surrounding the great Hogwarts "H"—a faint excitement still rose inside him despite all his preparations.
For years, Hogwarts had existed only as a distant memory from another life.
Now it was real.
The parchment smelled faintly of ink and old paper as Lucien unfolded the letter and skimmed through the contents. Textbooks, uniforms, cauldrons, potion ingredients, wand maintenance kits, school regulations…
He only glanced at most of it before casually handing the letter to Vinda Rosier.
"I'll have someone prepare everything immediately," she said calmly.
"There's no need, Aunt Vinda."
Lucien shook his head.
"Some things are better purchased personally." A faint smile appeared on his face. "And meeting my future classmates in Diagon Alley ahead of time certainly won't hurt."
Vinda gave a slight nod.
After today's events at Nurmengard, time had become extremely limited.
Lucien's expression gradually turned serious.
"Once news spreads, the German and Austrian Ministries of Magic will move quickly against us," he said calmly. "Before they fully react, every Saint must begin relocating immediately."
He looked directly toward Vinda and Abernethy.
"Sell everything that can be sold."
"Abandon whatever cannot."
"By tonight, everyone moves to Britain."
"Understood?"
Vinda and Abernethy exchanged glances before nodding firmly.
"Understood."
"Then leave immediately."
Lucien slowly turned toward Grindelwald.
For the first time that night, genuine reluctance appeared in his eyes.
"Old man…" he said softly. "Once I leave this time… I don't know when we'll meet again."
Grindelwald burst into laughter.
The old Dark Lord stood from his chair as powerful magic rolled off his body like invisible waves. For a brief moment, the terrifying figure who once shook Europe seemed to return once more.
"When have I ever needed you to worry about me?" Grindelwald scoffed proudly.
"Don't forget who I am."
"I am Grindelwald."
Lucien knew perfectly well that the old man was only pretending to appear carefree.
Over the years, they had become true family.
Even if Grindelwald would never openly admit it.
Lucien lowered his gaze briefly.
Then he bowed deeply.
"Take care of yourself…"
A slight pause followed.
Then quietly—
"Father."
Grindelwald's expression froze for just an instant.
But before he could say anything, Lucien had already turned and left with Vinda Rosier.
The massive chamber soon fell silent.
Only Grindelwald remained alone within the towering darkness of Nurmengard.
After a long time, the old wizard finally let out a quiet laugh.
"Dumbledore…"
One blue eye and one silver eye gazed toward the distant night sky.
"I'm no longer alone."
"Lucien…" His voice became softer. "My heir will carry our will forward."
"The future we once dreamed of…"
"He will finish it."
…
That same night, Vinda Rosier brought Lucien to Britain.
The moment they stepped out of the fireplace through Floo Powder travel, Lucien immediately felt the difference in the air. Compared to Austria's cold mountains, Britain carried the damp chill of rain and old stone.
Vinda adjusted her robes calmly.
"How much of our assets have been dealt with?" Lucien asked while walking forward.
"Roughly seventy percent," Vinda answered. "Most preparations were made in advance, and the majority of our people escaped successfully."
Lucien quietly exhaled in relief.
As long as nobody was captured, things remained manageable.
The Saint Group no longer possessed the massive manpower it once had during Grindelwald's peak. Every surviving member had endured decades of suppression and pursuit. Those people would become the foundation of Lucien's future plans.
He could not build everything alone.
He needed capable followers.
"However," Vinda continued calmly, "there is still one major problem."
Lucien glanced toward her.
"Money."
"Although our current reserves appear substantial, rebuilding operations in Britain will require enormous expenses." Her tone remained practical as always. "If we fail to establish stable income quickly, our funds will disappear faster than expected."
Lucien smiled.
"I already have a solution."
Years of hiding had not been wasted.
He had studied the wizarding world carefully.
Compared to modern society, magical Britain's economy remained painfully outdated. Most wealth and magical knowledge were monopolized by pure-blood families, while ordinary wizards struggled beneath them much like medieval peasants.
The entire system practically begged for exploitation.
Lucien intended to introduce the wizarding world to something far more terrifying than dark magic.
Capitalism.
Vinda noticed the confidence in his expression and chose not to question him further.
She trusted his judgment.
"That's good enough for me," she said simply.
As they continued walking, a luxurious manor gradually appeared ahead of them beneath the moonlight.
The estate was magnificent.
Elegant gardens surrounded the property while silver fountains reflected pale light across the grounds. Everything about the place screamed old money and aristocratic pride.
Two figures stood waiting near the entrance gates.
One adult.
One child.
Before Lucien and Vinda even approached fully, the younger voice could already be heard complaining loudly.
"Father, couldn't the house-elves have handled this themselves?"
The blond boy looked utterly dissatisfied.
"I'm going to Diagon Alley tomorrow…"
Diagon Alley tomorrow?
Lucien immediately caught the important detail.
Combined with the aristocratic tone, platinum blond hair, and overwhelming arrogance practically radiating off the child…
Lucien instantly recognized them.
Draco Malfoy.
And his father, Lucius Malfoy.
A faint smile slowly formed on Lucien's face.
"I was just wondering how to enter Britain's pure-blood social circles," he thought calmly. "And now someone delivers themselves directly to my doorstep."
Meanwhile, Lucius Malfoy was quietly studying the approaching figures.
As one of the oldest surviving pure-blood families in Britain, the Malfoys excelled at one thing above all else—
Choosing the winning side.
The moment Lucius learned that someone intended to purchase one of the Malfoy family's finest estates, he immediately decided to appear personally. Very few families could afford such a property.
That meant the buyer's identity was undoubtedly extraordinary.
At minimum, they were likely comparable to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Connections like that could become incredibly valuable in the future.
Unfortunately, his son understood absolutely none of this.
Draco's mind remained occupied entirely by Quidditch.
"Greetings, madam," Lucius began smoothly while stepping forward. "It is a pleasure to meet—"
Then he saw her face clearly.
And froze completely.
Vinda Rosier.
The Black Rose of France.
Lucius felt cold sweat instantly form down his back.
Why was she here?
How had she arrived in Britain?
For the first time in years, genuine alarm appeared beneath Lucius Malfoy's calm mask.
He had already expected an important buyer.
But he had still underestimated them horribly.
Vinda barely acknowledged him.
Her emerald eyes swept briefly across Lucius's blond hair and the Malfoy crest embroidered onto his robes.
"A Malfoy boy?" she said indifferently.
"Yes… yes, Ms. Rosier."
Lucius answered with extreme caution.
He did not dare show even the slightest dissatisfaction toward her tone. Vinda Rosier was old enough to be his grandmother, and her reputation within Europe was terrifying even now.
More importantly—
She had once stood beside Grindelwald himself.
Draco looked utterly stunned.
This was the first time in his life he had ever seen his father behave so humbly toward another wizard.
Even Cornelius Fudge never received such treatment.
Who exactly was this woman?
Realizing Draco was staring openly, Lucius immediately recovered his manners and bowed slightly toward both Vinda and Lucien.
"Lucius Malfoy," he introduced smoothly. "And this is my son, Draco. He will begin attending Hogwarts this year."
"Oh?" Vinda finally showed a trace of interest. "A first-year?"
Then she glanced sideways toward Lucien.
"Your future classmate."
Only then did Lucius and Draco properly notice the blond boy standing beside Vinda Rosier.
Before Lucius could even speak, Draco rushed forward excitedly.
"You're starting Hogwarts too?"
"Do you play Quidditch?"
"What broom do you use?"
"My father says he's buying me the newest Nimbus 2000 tomorrow in Diagon Alley—"
"Draco."
Lucius interrupted sharply before the boy could continue embarrassing himself.
Then he turned apologetically toward Lucien.
"My apologies, sir. Please forgive my son's lack of manners."
His grey eyes studied Lucien carefully.
"May I ask your name?"
Lucien smiled faintly.
His posture remained perfectly elegant.
"Lucien."
A slight pause followed.
Then calmly—
"Lucien Grindelwald."