Chapter 64 – Echoes of Valor
The Hogsmeade streets were quiet as the evening settled, lit by enchanted lamps that shimmered softly over cobblestones. Wizards moved among the magical shops, robes brushing lightly against the stones, while Ministry officials kept watch from discreet vantage points. Hogsmeade was entirely a wizarding town, untouched by Muggles. The magical premiere of Hogwarts Legends: Chapter 1 – Of Valor and Magic (Part One) had drawn professors, Ministry officials, and an eager wizarding audience, all eager to witness the work of a ten-year-old prodigy.
Ronald Weasley stood near the theatre entrance, suit slightly oversized, freckles prominent under the warm lights. Mr. Stark perched quietly on his shoulder, golden eyes reflecting the glow. Ron's chest thumped with a mix of pride and nerves, the culmination of months of planning and creative labor finally reaching an audience.
Inside, the magical audience gasped in awe at the careful depiction of the Obscurus, the pre-climax scene where raw, unstable magic surged violently before dissipating. Professors and officials leaned in, discussing the sequences with quiet analytical murmurs. Dumbledore observed with calm delight, Fawkes preening beside him, while McGonagall's eyes sparkled with excitement tempered by caution. Snape's frown, though carefully measured, betrayed a grudging admiration.
Meanwhile,the following day, in London, Bishop had arranged for the Weasley family to attend the Muggle theatre premiere, safely shielded with enchantments so that Muggle reporters could cover the event without exposure to magical effects. The theatre buzzed with ordinary excitement, flashes of cameras and scribbling notebooks capturing every moment.
One Muggle reporter leaned forward eagerly. "How did you create the Obscurus, Mr. Weasley?"
Ron swallowed, steadying his voice. "The Obscurus," he began, "is a manifestation of suppressed magic. In the story, it grows unstable and can self-detonate — that's a pre-climax moment. We wanted to show both the danger of power and the responsibility that comes with it."
Another reporter asked, "And the actor who plays Godric?"
Ron smiled faintly. "He's currently in training, preparing for the next part of the story." His tone was light, offering a partial truth that kept the magical reality safely hidden.
The Muggle audience nodded in amazement, unaware that the entire production had been orchestrated by a ten-year-old wizard with a team of magical effects experts. Reviews would later marvel at both the technical and emotional depth of the film.
After the muggle premiere, the Weasley family prepared to return to the Burrow. In a secluded corner of streets of London, far from any potential prying eyes, they activated a portkey. Ron gripped it firmly, Mr. Stark clinging to his shoulder. The familiar sensation of space folding around them swept over the family, depositing them safely at the Burrow in a brief, dizzying instant.
Ron leaned against a familiar wooden beam, letting the tension of the evening drain away. "It actually worked," he whispered to Mr. Stark, who cooed softly in acknowledgment.
He recalled the Obscurus sequence in his mind — the surge of magic, the violent but controlled detonation. That moment had already sparked discussion in both magical and Muggle circles, showing the consequences of unchecked power and the moral lessons woven into the story.
At Hogwarts, Snape returned to his chambers, wand flickering as he made careful notes. He analyzed the Obscurus sequence with critical precision, noting both the technical accuracy of magical depiction and the educational value behind it. "Overly dramatized, but instructive," he muttered. His gaze lingered on Ron's textbooks, Principles of Potion-Brewing and Principles of Herbology, annotated with meticulous care. "This child learns faster than any pupil I've ever taught… and he hasn't even started school."
Dumbledore, in his office, reviewed the magical and Muggle newspapers, smiling faintly as Fawkes cooed beside him. Headlines celebrated wonder and ingenuity:
"A Ten-Year-Old British Prodigy Redefines Fantasy Cinema!"
"Obscurus Unleashed: A Magical Spectacle for Modern Audiences."
"A New Tolkien for a New Age: Hogwarts Legends Captivates the movie World."
"The line between imagination and magic narrows," Dumbledore murmured, "but it must be walked with care."
McGonagall appeared, adjusting her glasses. "Albus, the Ministry fears what Muggles will think, even with careful mediation."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Perhaps. Yet the boy has crafted a bridge, whether he knows it or not."
At the Burrow, the family gathered around their radio, listening to coverage of the Muggle premiere. Molly held Ginny close, pride and worry mingling.
"Arthur, he's only ten," she whispered. "How will he manage all this attention?"
Arthur leaned forward, eyes bright. "Molly, he's extraordinary. The world is seeing that — even if they think it's just a movie."
Charlie, Percy, and the twins were at Diagon Alley gathering supplies for the new school year, leaving only Ginny and her parents at home. Fred and George whispered their own mischievous ideas, inspired by the spectacle of the film.
Later, Ron sat by the open window, Mr. Stark perched attentively. The quiet of the Burrow offered a rare moment to reflect. He opened his notebook and began to sketch ideas for the sequel:
"Hogwarts Legends: Chapter 1 – Of Valor and Magic (Part Two)."
He thought of the Obscurus, the lore, the magical theatres, and the Muggle coordination. Everything had worked. For the first time, his imagination had stepped beyond parchment.
He smiled faintly, feeling both the thrill of creation and the weight of responsibility. "It's not just a story anymore," he murmured. "It's… history retold."
From the Astronomy Tower, Dumbledore gazed northward, Fawkes beside him. Reviews from both magical and Muggle audiences had arrived, expressing astonishment, critique, and awe.
"The boy is weaving futures," Dumbledore said softly. "Let us hope he weaves them carefully."
Snape's voice, dry and cutting, echoed from the staircase. "Or igniting a fuse, Headmaster. You've always favored visionaries. I prefer ordinary students."
"Ordinary, Severus?" Dumbledore chuckled. "No Weasley has ever been ordinary."
Snape's cloak swirled as he turned. "Then may Merlin help us all when Part Two arrives."
The night deepened. Across two worlds, stories stirred, hearts awakened. Whispers arose of courage, friendship, and valor reborn.
Hogwarts Legends had done what no spell could: it united belief itself.
The boy who once dreamed of potions and parchment had, without knowing, opened the first true door between worlds.