The celebration on the Quidditch pitch was ecstatic and overwhelming. Ariana was immediately swept up in a sea of hugs from her friends—a tearful, proud Hermione; a beaming, triumphant Daphne; a joyous, relieved Harry; and a whooping, back-slapping Ron. Sirius and Remus lifted her onto their shoulders, parading her before the cheering crowd like a conquering hero, a scene of such pure, unrestrained joy that it would be immortalized in a dozen magical paintings.
The next day, the Ministry of Magic hosted a grand press conference in the main Atrium, which had been magically decorated and polished to a brilliant shine. The room was packed with reporters from every corner of the globe, their Quick-Quotes Quills poised and ready. Ariana stood at a podium, flanked by a beaming Minister Bones and a proud, twinkling Dumbledore. Hermione and Daphne, as her co-researchers, sat in the front row. Harry, Sirius and Remus were also there.
The world expected to hear a story of adventure, of personal courage, of the profound, lonely beauty of space. They expected a hero's tale.
Ariana, as always, gave them something else entirely.
She began by calmly and factually recounting the technical details of the flight, crediting
Hermione's arithmantic models and Daphne's alchemical contributions with a sincerity that made her two friends blush with pride. She described the performance of the Chimera, the stability of its systems, the perfection of its design.
Then, a reporter from France's Le Cri de la Gargouille asked the question that was on everyone's mind. "Mademoiselle Dumbledore, it was an act of unparalleled bravery, a journey for the ages! What was it like, to be the first witch to stand upon the moon?"
Ariana looked at the assembled press, her gaze calm and direct. "My journey was not the objective," she said, her voice clear and carrying across the silent, captivated Atrium. "It was a proof of concept. The true purpose of the mission was not just to set foot on the moon, but to deliver a package."
A confused murmur went through the crowd.
"The Artemis Beacon I deployed on the lunar surface," she explained, as if delivering a lecture, "is more than just a navigational marker. It is a powerful, self-sustaining magical transponder. It is now broadcasting a continuous, stable signal, a permanent magical address in the Sea of Tranquility." She paused, letting the technical details sink in before she delivered the strategic masterstroke.
"This beacon will serve as the destination lock for the next phase of the project: the Chimera II. It will be a much larger, unmanned spacecraft, built on the same principles as the first. Its sole purpose will be to transport and assemble a permanent, magically-shielded, and self-sustaining habitat on the lunar surface, directly at the beacon's location."
She looked out at the sea of stunned faces. "This habitat, once established, will contain a large, dedicated Portkey reception platform, directly linked to a corresponding platform here at the Ministry. The Artemis Beacon provides the stable magical coordinates that were previously missing. It makes long-range Apparition and Portkey travel, which are normally impossible through the void of space, viable."
Her next words changed the world forever.
"In short," she concluded, her voice ringing with the simple, profound finality of a law of nature being unveiled, "my flight was not about one person visiting the moon. It was about building a bridge. Once the habitat is established, any witch or wizard will be able to travel from the Ministry of Magic to the moon, and back again, in the space of a single breath."
The silence in the Atrium was absolute, a collective, global intake of breath as the true, staggering scale of her ambition was revealed. She hadn't just visited the moon. She had annexed it. She had turned it from an unobtainable celestial body into a magical suburb.
Amelia Bones, who had been briefed on this beforehand but was still awestruck by the public declaration, stepped forward. "What Miss Dumbledore has achieved," she announced, her voice filled with a powerful, patriotic pride, "is a new era for all wizardkind. An era of exploration, of expansion."
A reporter finally found his voice. "But… who owns the moon?" he stammered out.
Ariana looked at him, a small, logical smile on her lips. "An interesting question of international and interplanetary law. However, as the Muggles have their maritime laws of 'finders, keepers,' so too does magic have its own precedents. The first magical entity to establish a permanent, habitable, and accessible settlement on a previously uninhabited celestial body has the primary claim of sovereignty."
She let her words hang in the air, a quiet, undeniable declaration of conquest.
"Wizardkind," she stated simply, "has just conquered the moon."
The aftermath was a global paradigm shift. The work on the lunar habitat became an international project, funded by ministries from around the world, all eager to be a part of this new frontier. The apathetic, navel-gazing wizarding world, so long content with its own secrets, was suddenly galvanized by a shared, boundless sense of possibility. New fields of magical science were born overnight: astro-alchemy, celestial mechanics, runic teleportation theory.
Ariana Dumbledore was hailed as the architect of the future.
Weeks later, she stood with Hermione and Daphne in the Room of Requirement, looking at the new, larger blueprints for the Chimera II habitat. Their work was far from over. There were new challenges, new equations to solve. Beyond the moon, there was Mars. Beyond that, the endless, fascinating void of the cosmos.
"A whole new universe of variables," Hermione whispered, her eyes shining with an intellectual fire that would never again be dimmed by doubt.
"A new frontier to claim," Daphne added, her voice full of a cool, ambitious pride.
Ariana looked at her two partners, her two best friends, her family. The war was won. The past was healed. And the future… the future was a limitless expanse of discovery, waiting to be explored.
She smiled, a true, genuine smile of pure, unadulterated contentment. The logic was perfect. The path was clear. And her journey, she knew, was just beginning.