Sorcerer Supreme at Hogwarts (English Versión)-Chapter 172: "The Council of the Ancients"

"The Council of the Ancients"

When Stephen crossed the portal, using the last trace of mana he had left, he appeared in the middle of Hogwarts' courtyard. He could barely stay conscious.

His beloved siblings ran toward him, surrounding him instantly.

"Using that kind of spell!? Are you an idiot!?" Natasha shouted, glaring at him with a severe look.

"Setting aside the fact that it was epic... launching thousands of magical eyes all over the world doesn't exactly help with our little problem," Tony said with his characteristic sarcasm.

"Haha... idiot," Wanda didn't miss the chance to mock him.

"I love you guys too, siblings... but, could someone give me a potion before I die?" Stephen whispered, collapsing on the ground and looking up at the sky.

Without saying a word, Loki pulled out a potion and handed it to him. Stephen drank it in one gulp and closed his eyes, letting the magical energy begin to restore him.

His siblings remained standing around him, watching with eyes filled with both worry and judgment.

The silence didn't last long. Perenelle and Nicolas arrived in a rush, and their grandmother was the first to speak.

"What were you thinking, you brat?!" Perenelle roared as soon as she saw him.

Harry and Wanda quickly stepped in, noticing that their grandmother was about to bring out the dreaded ancestral slipper.

"Wait, Grandma! He's still recovering... You have to wait until he's whole before hitting him," Wanda said with a teasing smile.

Meanwhile, Nicolas touched his forehead, frowning in silence before speaking.

"From the beginning, this was a conflict between the magical world and governments. While some Muggles heard rumors, no one truly believed in wizards and witches. But now... with your spell, you confirmed our existence to the entire world," Nicolas said gravely, looking sternly at his grandson. "You just broke one of the oldest laws in the magical world."

The patriarch's words fell like a lightning bolt. All the siblings turned serious... just as a red letter zipped through the air toward them.

It stopped at the center of the group, revealing the seal of the International Confederation of Wizards before opening with a solemn voice:

"Hereby, the immediate presence of the following individuals is requested at the central headquarters of the International Confederation of Wizards, regarding controversy related to the spells cast today.

Stephen Flamel, Wanda Flamel, Natasha Flamel, Harry James Potter Flamel, Antony Grindelwald Flamel, and Loki Grindelwald Flamel."

A light burst from the letter, flying to their wrists. A red mark with the Confederation's symbol appeared on each of them.

Instinctively, they all tried to remove it with magic... but Nicolas' firm voice stopped them.

"Don't. That's your entry pass. Don't touch it."

"Great. Because of this idiot, now we're all going to Azkaban," Wanda muttered, giving Stephen a light kick while he still lay with his eyes closed. He frowned for a second but kept focusing on regaining his strength.

"I hate how stripe suits look on me," Tony added, huffing.

"No. If it were a formal accusation, the local Ministry would be handling it. But this is coming directly from the Confederation. They even gave a pass... that means it's not an automatic conviction. And in any case, we were already in deep trouble. The kind that won't be solved easily," Perenelle interjected, taking a deep breath as her fury began to fade.

"Though it was reckless... Stephen saved hundreds of lives. The magical school in Uganda was destroyed, and it was tolerated because there were no victims. But killing our wizards... that's another story," Nicolas added, unintentionally activating several of his alchemical artifacts. Perenelle gently touched his arm, calming him with her presence.

Finally, Stephen opened his eyes. He had recovered some of his strength.

Everyone looked at him immediately.

"What's the plan? I don't believe you did all this without one... did you?" Tony asked, arms crossed.

"Yeah. Well, sort of," Stephen replied with a confident smile. "If it doesn't work... we go to war, scare them again, and done. Let's see what those old men hiding while the world burns want."

"Urgh, I hate when he acts like Wanda," Harry said, clicking his tongue.

Everyone thought the same... except Tony and Loki, who stared at him.

"You wanted them to call you," Loki said seriously.

"You do know there are more... normal ways to make that happen, right?" Tony added.

"What? What are you talking about?" Wanda asked, confused.

Natasha figured it out seconds later. Harry and Wanda still didn't. Perenelle and Nicolas were too upset to follow the thread.

"One of those elders showed up to stop our grandparents. Then he vanished without saying a word, ignoring everything we did with the magic booths and Lumina Island," Stephen explained with a sly smile.

"Don't tell me you were expecting something like this..." Natasha said, frowning.

"Not exactly. It was a surprise. I didn't expect the Muggles to accelerate their plans so much. I just improvised. And, while I was at it... I left a message for the military," Stephen responded calmly.

"Obviously. I'm sure several governments already knew about us. They probably have wizards working for them. Now they have the perfect excuse to start large-scale experiments," Tony said, his tone somber.

"Either way... we need to find the wizards they captured," Wanda said urgently.

"Yeah, but first... let's attend that meeting. Took me a lot to get us invited," Stephen said, looking toward the horizon.

Dumbledore was approaching with a crafty old-man smile.

"You made quite the noise out there. While it's not a measure I would've taken... no one got hurt. Well done," he said with a slight nod. "Shall we?"

The Flamel siblings quickly followed him to his office. They used the Floo Network to reach the British Ministry of Magic, where they would take a Port Key to the Confederation's headquarters.

Perenelle and Nicolas, worried but not invited, stayed behind... though ready to intervene and destroy everything if their grandchildren needed support.

Upon arriving at the Ministry, all the workers turned their heads to look at them. The gazes focused especially on Stephen"a mix of respect... and fear.

"Looks like news travels fast," Dumbledore commented, eyeing the magicphones in several employees' hands.

"They communicate in seconds. A Muggle wonder they've been using for years. No need to wait for an owl to feel like delivering a message," Tony said with a mocking smile at the magical world's archaic system.

"It's true. We used to be somewhat...

"Old-fashioned, outdated, foolish..." said Wanda instantly.

"I was going to say 'rooted in our traditions', but thank you," replied Dumbledore, smiling patiently.

They finally reached the Port Key area and all used it at the same time.

Upon arriving on the other side, they found themselves in a large white hall. Dumbledore walked forward with firm steps, and everyone followed him, passing through door after door in quick succession.

"I expected more," said Loki with disdain, observing the white, empty hallways.

"Sometimes, simplicity hides the greatest secrets," replied Dumbledore, opening one final door.

Inside the room stood a gigantic circular table made of white stone, engraved with runes from multiple magical languages, slowly rotating with arcane energy. Around it, six figures dressed in robes that subtly changed color with the magical light raised their faces as the group entered.

Dumbledore remained at the door, as he would not be participating in the meeting. freewebnøvel.com

Stephen was the first to step forward, his cloak fluttering with a soft magical glow around him as he looked at each of those present without fear.

"Sorry about the spectacle," he said with a calm smile, though a spark of defiance gleamed in his eyes. "I guess it was about time we stopped pretending everything was under control."

At the center of the room, an imposing figure rose. His beard, golden and blazing like liquid fire, seemed to move of its own accord. He slammed the great round table with force, making the air vibrate with his voice, which roared like a volcano.

"HAHAHA! That was glorious! Fabulous! At last, we stop hiding what we're truly made of! Damn wizards!" he exclaimed, eyes burning with excitement. "It was time to show our essence!"

From high above her seat, a woman watched him with disdain. Her eyes were as piercing as the clear sky atop a sacred mountain. Her hair, white as virgin snow, cascaded in waves that brushed against a robe woven from clouds and celestial feathers. Her voice shattered the mood like thunder.

"Shut your mouth, Ignifortis. You sound like an idiot," she said angrily. "Your age is supposed to bring wisdom... try showing it for once."

Igni shot her a cold glare, almost with contempt.

"And why should I?"

"Because you're the damn patriarch of"" she replied firmly, but before she could continue, a voice fell like a nighttime breeze.

"Enough, both of you," said a pale-faced man with eyes as silver as the full moon. His tone was as serene as it was unsettling, and he gently stroked an ancient ring engraved with forgotten symbols. He looked more like a specter than a being of flesh and bone, and his very presence commanded respect.

"Lunavestra! Don't give me orders!" the woman roared, rising with the intent to unleash her power. "Who do you think you are to speak to me like that?"

Before chaos could erupt, a figure stepped forward with the elegance of wind crossing a desert. She was a dark-skinned woman, wrapped in linen robes that danced to the rhythm of an invisible breeze. Her eyes, calm and eternal like the dunes, observed with serenity.

"It's fine, Aquilalys. We have company. You can face Lunavestra whenever you wish... but not now."

"Hmph... you've saved him again, Sirokoftis," said Aquilalys with irritation, though her tone hinted at respect.

Then an old man spoke, his skin adorned with tribal tattoos glowing in a faint blue, like moonlight reflecting on the ocean. His eyes were deep, as if ancient storms resided within. His voice, slow, flowed with the rhythm of waves.

"Don't worry... Your brother is not in trouble. Being discovered was only a matter of time: months... weeks... maybe days. The inevitable always comes closer."

Finally, a woman who seemed sculpted from silk and gold spoke. Her garments were embroidered with crimson thread, and though her voice was as soft as a whisper, every word carried the weight of a divine sentence. Inside her, the fire of a dragon slept... for now.

"Aurëasai is right. However, you were not brought here for that alone. There is another reason, a deeper one.

My name is Drakorya. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Seven seats surrounded the great circular table. But one of them, the last, was split in half, as if a force beyond comprehension had shattered it long ago.

And so the Flamel family met the Six of the Seven Patriarchs and Matriarchs of the Seven Ancient Families... those who, according to legend, have existed since the very beginning of time.