Hogwarts: Dyroth Grindelwald Rise From Nurmengard

(All chapters have been thoroughly edited, and moving forward, the quality will only improve. I'm committed to ensuring that past issues will not be repeated. Thank you for your patience and support as I can continue to enhance my work.)

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After buying the cauldron, textbooks, owls, and other necessary items, Dyroth sent Draco to the fireplace and took the Floo back to Malfoy Manor.

(The Floo Network was a mode of wizarding transportation in which a witch or wizard traveled from one place to another using Floo powder and a fireplace. Many fireplaces were connected in the Floo Network, and the traveler needed only to speak the location of the desired fireplace clearly while standing in the emerald green flames.)

Dyroth arrived at the entrance of Diagon Alley, where Vinda Rosier was already waiting.

"Have you bought everything?" Vinda asked.

Dyroth raised his hand, gesturing to the suitcase in his pocket, which had been enhanced with the Traceless Stretching Charm.

"Everything's bought. I sent Draco back already," Dyroth replied.

"Who sent those Aurors?" Vinda's voice turned more serious.

"Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office at the British Ministry of Magic."

Dyroth's gaze hardened as he recalled details about Scrimgeour. Rufus Scrimgeour—a staunch hardliner dedicated to hunting dark wizards. In the original timeline, he became Minister of Magic after Fudge's resignation, only to meet a tragic end when Voldemort captured and tortured him for refusing to disclose Harry Potter's whereabouts. Despite his heroic stance, Scrimgeour's fate was a testament to his courage and the dangers he faced.

"It seems the Auror office head already sees us as dark wizards," Dyroth said with a faint smile.

"Being targeted by him could hinder our next steps," he added, his tone more cautious.

"Shall we send someone to deal with him?" Vinda suggested, her voice sharp.

"No." Dyroth shook his head. "If we kill a top official of the Ministry of Magic so soon after arriving in Britain, it'll cause panic. And it won't just be Aurors watching us after that."

Vinda, understanding the long-term implications, nodded. "But if Scrimgeour keeps his eyes on us, it'll be a huge problem for our future plans."

Dyroth thought for a moment, then his eyes gleamed with an idea. "We may not need to act ourselves. The British Ministry of Magic only found out about our transfer today. There's no way they could decide this quickly."

"So Scrimgeour acted on his own?" Vinda, sharp as always, followed his reasoning easily.

"Exactly. Inform Fudge, and hint that Scrimgeour has been keeping an eye on us without his knowledge. Someone will take care of Scrimgeour soon enough," Dyroth said, a playful smile appearing on his face. "Who wouldn't enjoy watching their dogs fight?"

He shifted topics. "I asked you to investigate the shops in Diagon Alley. What did you find?"

"The situation isn't great. The shops are tightly held by pure-blood families. Most of the key stores—potions, brooms—are already in their control, and those willing to sell are in bad locations," Vinda replied.

Dyroth chuckled. "Who said I wanted to buy a shop?"

Vinda looked confused. "Then why investigate them?"

"The goal is to understand the marketplace. One or two shops won't be enough to support the Saints. No, my goal is much bigger... I want to replace Diagon Alley," Dyroth declared, his eyes gleaming.

"Replace Diagon Alley?" Vinda was momentarily stunned.

Even she hadn't expected such an ambitious plan. She had thought they might squeeze out a few pure-blood families from the market. But to replace Diagon Alley? That was an entirely different level of ambition, one that meant cutting off a major lifeline for the pure-bloods.

"Dyroth, I know you want the Saints to thrive, but we've just arrived in the UK. We don't even have a solid foothold yet. If we rush into conflict with the pure-blood families…" Vinda trailed off, her concern evident.

"I'm calm, Aunt Vinda." Dyroth patted her hand reassuringly. "Replacing Diagon Alley is a long-term goal. It's not something that can be done overnight. The pure-blood families' resources are vast and far beyond what we can muster right now. But in time, step by step, we'll get there."

He paused, then added with a grin, "In the future, our reach will extend far beyond Diagon Alley. We'll be operating across the entire wizarding world!"

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The Next Day, Ministry of Magic

Rufus Scrimgeour stood at the door of Cornelius Fudge's office, his face darkened by frustration.

Inside, Fudge's face was red with anger, his breathing heavy.

"This is outrageous! Moving a dozen Aurors without informing the Minister?!" Fudge shouted.

Scrimgeour, unfazed, countered, "They are Saints! A group of dark wizards! More than a dozen Aurors from the Austrian Ministry of Magic disappeared because of them!"

"An eleven-year-old killed that many Aurors? You believe that nonsense? I order you to call them off immediately!" Fudge roared. To him, Scrimgeour's actions were not just an attack on the Saints but a direct challenge to his authority.

"No! Even if the child didn't do it, the Saints are definitely involved!" Scrimgeour pressed on, undeterred.

"I'm the Minister of Magic!" Fudge shouted, slamming his hand on the desk.

With that single declaration, Scrimgeour knew he was defeated. Furious, he stormed out of the office, leaving a final warning behind.

"Fudge, you'll regret this!"

(So familiar???)

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Late August

As time flew by, Dyroth continued his relentless pursuit of knowledge, mastering material far beyond his age. Having finished studying the fourth-year Hogwarts curriculum, he now worked through the Standard Book of Spells for fifth-year students.

In Malfoy Manor, Dyroth sat calmly reading a book, while Draco fidgeted next to him, clearly struggling to concentrate.

Lucius Malfoy, entering the room, couldn't help but sigh. The difference between these two boys was stark. In just a couple of months, Dyroth had gone from a complete outsider to a respected figure among pure-blood families, thanks to his charm and intelligence.

Meanwhile, Draco seemed easily led by Dyroth, unaware of just how far beyond him the boy was.

"Draco, your father is here," Dyroth said softly, closing his book.

Draco jumped up in relief, tossing aside his own book, ready to leave.

"Ahem!" Dyroth cleared his throat. "Draco, remember to finish the homework I assigned. I'll be checking it when school starts."

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