pjbooks Chapter 576 - 576 - The Threat of a Dark Lord
Chapter 576 - 576 - The Threat of a Dark Lord
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Faced with my somewhat condescending remark, many of the Ravenclaws I had been arguing with felt offended — some even a little insulted.
Even so, they didn't dare to retort, nor did they show any negative reaction at all.
They knew there were battles it was better to retreat from... and others they shouldn't even start.
The only ones who even considered saying something back were Clark and the shaved-head boy, the main instigators of all this mess.
However, after casting a brief glance at my cold, expressionless face, both of them — showing a surprising amount of sense — chose to remain silent.
The not-so-subtle danger in my gaze was enough to make them understand that if they opened their mouths again, they would find out why even a dragon acted like a docile puppy in front of me.
Seeing that the silence held in the Common Room, I gave a slight nod.
Then, in a calmer — but even more serious — tone, I spoke up again:
"Look, I understand why some of you still doubt my words. They sound absurd, I know."
"But even so, there's something you need to understand..."
I paused briefly, meeting their eyes seriously.
"Regardless of who that damn dark wizard is — You-Know-Who or some lunatic trying to imitate him — that doesn't change the fact that he's still a major threat."
"He's a powerful, cruel, and dangerous as hell wizard. And he has the power to command the Death Eaters," I declared solemnly.
"That alone is more than enough to justify just how dangerous he is."
"So I hope you take that into consideration when you ask yourselves whether all this panic is even necessary..."
My gaze hardened.
"Because, whether you like it or not... it is."
After saying that, I fell silent for a moment, letting my words hang heavy in the air as my eyes swept across the room.
As I did, I could tell that my words had reached at least some of the more doubtful students.
Their faces now carried thoughtful, serious expressions, as if they were reflecting on everything I had said.
Gradually, these Ravenclaws began to realise that arguing whether Voldemort had returned or not was almost irrelevant.
A Dark Lord, new or old, known or unknown... it didn't matter.
What truly mattered was that there was a Dark Lord out there right now — and the threat that represented to the entire British wizarding community was undeniable.
Satisfied with the effect of my words, I gave a slight nod to myself.
Then, deciding to strike while the iron was still hot, I continued:
"After hearing all this, some of you are probably thinking you're too young to worry about this kind of stuff. That it's the Ministry's problem. The Aurors'... The adults'."
I let out a quiet sigh, shaking my head.
"Unfortunately... it's not that simple."
My gaze swept over the group of Ravens once more before I suddenly asked:
"Most of you have family in the wizarding world, right?"
The question, seemingly random, caught several of them off guard.
Even so, after a brief moment of hesitation, they answered — and I saw a large portion of the Ravenclaws, especially the purebloods and half-bloods, nod.
"Well," I nodded back, "then you've definitely heard stories or read about the last wizarding war."
"Some of you might even know someone who lived through it. Someone who lost something..."
My voice lowered, carrying more weight.
"...or someone."
A simple phrase, but enough to deepen the silence.
"Your parents, grandparents — and even some of your great-grandparents — probably had to face... or at least survive the dangers of a Dark Lord before."
'And some may even have been fanatical followers or silent supporters of them,' I added mentally.
Unable to help myself, I let my gaze pass over a few Ravenclaws from traditional pure-blood families — many of them known for their neutrality... or convenience.
Pushing those suspicions aside for now, I continued:
"These Dark Lords are, most of the time, self-centered and cruel psychopaths — people consumed by power. Hungry, even obsessed, with control and recognition."
"They kill, manipulate, and threaten like it means nothing. Like it's just another normal day in their lives."
"They use the darkest and most despicable magic there is, whether for sadistic pleasure or to achieve their twisted goals."
A look of disdain crossed my face.
"Goals that, more often than not, involve dominating both the wizarding and Muggle worlds."
"And the clearest examples of wizards like that are You-Know-Who himself... and Grindelwald."
As soon as I said that, several students visibly paled, while others stiffened where they stood.
Voldemort's name alone was enough to cause panic and fear, but bringing up Grindelwald only intensified it.
Two Dark Lords. Two different eras. Two different ways of operating.
But at their core, they were the same.
Chaos. Fear. Destruction.
They might represent different threats in form and method, but they still had more in common than it seemed.
And that similarity was exactly what mattered most to me: the absurd level of power both had achieved... and the trail of terror they had left across the wizarding world during their reigns.
Of course, I still believed Grindelwald had been a far more imposing and dangerous Dark Lord. But Voldemort's mastery of the Dark Arts... that was on a completely different level. Something very few in all of history had ever come close to achieving.
And thinking about it, Voldemort wasn't just another name among great dark wizards.
In a way, he was the convergence of the worst aspects of all of them.
He had the influence and manipulation of Gellert Grindelwald, who could win followers not just through fear, but through carefully crafted ideals — a distorted vision of the "greater good" that made even atrocities seem justifiable.
Voldemort, however, cared less about convincing… but he still knew how to manipulate, exploit weaknesses, and secure loyalty through a mix of fear, power, and promise.
He also had the coldness and elitist mindset of Salazar Slytherin, with his obsession with blood purity and his vision of magical superiority.
The Noseless Lord inherited — and twisted even further — that same disdain, turning it into something more extreme and violent, using that ideology to justify persecution and domination.
And finally, there was the dangerous and experimental mind of Herpo the Foul, one of the first and most infamous dark wizards in history, known for pushing boundaries no one else dared touch — creating Horcruxes and Basilisks, dealing in forbidden magic, and exploring places where morality simply didn't exist.
Voldemort followed that exact path, but went even further, refining and expanding that kind of magic with an almost obsessive pursuit of immortality.
In the end, Voldemort wasn't just powerful.
He was the sum of those influences — manipulation, ideology, and experimentation taken to the extreme — brought together in a single wizard willing to go further than anyone before him.
And maybe that's why he's known by many as the greatest and most dangerous Dark Lord to ever exist.
But anyway, back to the present moment, I saw the tense and restless faces of my housemates.
Still, I didn't care much about their reaction.
Right now, I was more focused on making sure they actually understood my point.
With that, I continued my speech.
"Back when Grindelwald and You-Know-Who were spreading terror across the wizarding world, most of your families were there... seeing it or living through it."
"And some of you," I added, looking at the older students, "were old enough to remember what it was like."
"However, the situation now is different from back then."
My expression hardened.
"Because now... it's our turn to face this problem"
"And we can't just stand here, helpless... waiting for some mad dark wizard to decide when and where he's going to attack us."
"Because when that happens... it'll already be too late to do anything." I said firmly, without hesitation.
After that, I fell silent, watching everyone closely.
My warning speech had finally come to an end — and, judging by the expressions and emotions I sensed around me, I knew I had been partially successful in making them understand the seriousness of the situation.
The Common Room, once filled with murmurs and discussion, had once again fallen into a heavy silence.
The students who had doubted me before now avoided my gaze, clearly uncomfortable under the weight of my words.
But beyond discomfort, there was also distress... and guilt.
They realised they could no longer simply ignore my warnings.
They realised that there really was a possibility — however small — of another wizarding war breaking out... one they would inevitably be involved in.
The remaining Ravenclaws, on the other hand, remained still, their expressions tense and serious, as if they were processing or reflecting on everything they had just heard.
"Ethan..." Padma called, breaking the silence and drawing my attention to her.
When I looked at her, I noticed her rigid, nervous posture. Her usually calm face carried a faint tension — enough to show how distressed she was.
"What are we supposed to do now?" she asked, looking at me anxiously. "How do we deal with this?"
For a moment, all eyes turned to her... and then to me.
There was expectation and anxiety on the faces of those Ravens.
They wanted answers. They wanted direction.
They wanted someone who knew what to do — someone who could guide them through this disaster.
And at that moment... everyone was looking at me as if I were that person.
End.
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