Viviane's Rebirth

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Time seems to flow more slowly on Avalon Island than elsewhere.

Before the morning mist had completely dissipated, there was already activity in the Magic Garden. Untamed ancient plants stretched their branches and leaves to the low pulsation of magic, and the air was filled with a fresh yet profound sense of life.

After finishing her meditation, Viviane carefully inspected every corner of the garden to make sure everything was running smoothly before returning to her temporary cottage.

The cabin wasn't luxuriously furnished, but it had everything she needed. New potion supplies were neatly arranged beside the fireplace, and several Ancient Magic texts that she had been reading frequently were on the bookshelf. There was even a small basket of freshly picked fruit on the table—clearly, someone had been quietly taking care of these small but necessary details.

After a slight spatial fluctuation, Kreacher appeared silently by the door, head bowed, placed a package on the table, and quickly retreated to a corner, as if unwilling to disturb his master's moment of meditation.

Viviane nodded at it, her expression already used to it.

She transformed one side of the cottage into a simple yet quiet space.

There stood a heavy and ancient alchemical device. The thick cabinet, made of dark brown ancient oak and edged with brass, occupied half of the corner of the wall. The huge trumpet-shaped megaphone on the cabinet door was engraved with silver runes, which faintly flowed with a ghostly blue light.

This is one of the remote terminal devices at Malfoy Watchtower. It can transmit sound to the broadcast headquarters at Ella Cottage, where it is then encrypted with magic by Latifa and pushed to the entire wizarding world through a dedicated channel.

In her spare time, Viviane would sit in front of this unassuming device and record her singing for Malfoy Watchtower.

She closed her eyes and began to sing softly. The melody was gentle and restrained, yet it possessed a natural and comforting power, like a gentle breeze brushing against a taut heartstring. The song flowed far away along an invisible network of magic, seeping into the windows of city attics, passing over the chimneys of remote villages, and even quietly comforting families who were unable to sleep due to fear.

In this time of looming war, such ethereal and pure singing voices are especially precious, like a lamp that refuses to go out in the darkness.

As the last note faded, Viviane slowly opened her eyes, her expression calm and content.

Just then, light footsteps came from outside the door.

She turned around and saw Skylar standing in the doorway, as if he had been there for a while.

"You've arrived," she said naturally.

"Looks like I've come at the right time." Skylar walked in, his gaze sweeping over the equipment in the room, and said with a smile, "Latifa would be very grateful if she knew you were sharing the program content for her again."

Viviane smiled slightly but did not reply.

Skylar's gaze lingered briefly in the room before settling on the carefully arranged objects. He casually asked, "Are you settling in well?"

Viviane paused slightly, then nodded. "Yes, I'm quite used to it."

Skylar walked in, his tone more casual, yet tinged with barely perceptible concern. "Is Kreacher doing a decent job? If there's anything missing or inconvenient, just have him fetch it. An elf's Apparition is much more convenient than most wizards'."

Viviane smiled slightly when Kreacher was mentioned.

"It's very serious," she thought for a moment and gave a fair assessment, "Sometimes even too serious."

Skylar chuckled, clearly not surprised.

The two walked out of the cabin side by side, and the scent of the garden immediately enveloped them. Skylar looked around, his gaze falling on the magical plants that were carefully maintained yet still retained their wildness.

"And you? How are you doing?" he suddenly asked.

Viviane paused slightly, then subconsciously replied, "Very good."

She stopped speaking as soon as she finished.

As soon as she spoke, she felt her answer had been too casual, almost perfunctory. She paused, then added, "Which aspect are you referring to?"

Skylar stopped and turned to face her, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable stubbornness. "Life here is stable and orderly—cultivation, gardening, broadcasting— Kreacher manages all the trivial matters perfectly. But what I want to know is, do you truly feel that this kind of life is enough?"

Viviane remained silent.

After a moment, she said softly, "I've always thought this was my purpose. Isn't protecting Avalon just the right thing to do?"

"That's the meaning others have given you." Skylar shook his head, his voice low but clear, "It wasn't your own choice."

Viviane's breath hitched slightly.

Skylar's voice wasn't sharp, but it was like a precise knife, easily slicing through her habitual perceptions.

"Viviane," he continued, his tone calm and resolute, "Your singing isn't just for the island. It can soothe the restlessness of magic, calm the soul; some find peace in turmoil because of it, others rediscover the courage to live."

He stared directly into Viviane's pale blue eyes, those usually calm gray pupils radiating a strange power that made Viviane involuntarily hold her breath and listen intently.

"To let more people hear your songs, to let more people find happiness in your music—that, in my opinion, is your mission."

"It's not because of responsibility, but because you inherently possess that power."

I hope you can also find your own happiness in this.

A gentle breeze swept through the garden, lifting Viviane's long hair, which swayed gently in the sunlight.

She stood there, silent for a long time, just watching him quietly, a faint light gradually appearing in her eyes.

"You know what?" she finally spoke, her voice very soft, "The way you were talking just now reminded me of someone."

Skylar did not urge him.

"Arthur," Viviane whispered, "When he was alive, he looked at me like that, not as the Lake Nymph, not as a symbol, not as a tool."

She raised her head, looked directly at Skylar, her gaze clear and frank.

"After him, you are the second man to make my heart flutter."

Skylar was slightly taken aback, then revealed a faint smile.

"Then I need to make something clear," he said.

Viviane.

"I am not like King Arthur," Skylar said calmly. "I have never believed that women are subordinate to men, nor do I believe that you need to depend on any king, any era, or any legend."

He paused, his tone low but firm.

"You don't exist for me, nor for the past—" Skylar looked at her, his eyes more serious than ever before, "Viviane, you should be brave—live for yourself."

The Bones Manor, shrouded in night, was almost solemnly quiet.

This ancient and unassuming mansion has always been known for its sturdiness and formidable defenses. The thick stone walls and ancient protective runes scattered throughout the ground enabled it to escape the Death Eaters' retaliation several times during the First Wizarding War.

However, tonight, the manor's main gate was unusually open to outsiders.

Fudge stood at the door, draped in a heavy cloak, his face ashen in the torchlight. Umbridge, Rufus Fudge, and John Dawlish.

Fudge had written a letter beforehand, informing Amelia of his purpose—he hoped to sit down and have an open and honest talk with the new Minister for Magic. In the letter, he mentioned that he believed his experience accumulated over the years as minister would be of great help to the new minister's governance.

Everyone in the Ministry of Magic knew that Fudge was in a panic, like a cat on a hot tin roof. The slightest mistake could ruin his reputation and even land him in Azkaban.

The purpose of his late-night visit to Amelia was self-evident: to establish an understanding with the new minister, negotiate terms, and secure a dignified exit for him.

Amelia, unsuspecting, readily agreed to the meeting.

It was already late at night. By this time, all the Auror responsible for protecting her safety had already left the manor.

However, besides her and her niece Susan Bones, who was her only family, there was also a House Elf and four bodyguards that Skylar had assigned to her at the manor.

Moreover, Amelia was quite confident in her own strength, and she didn't believe Fudge could still threaten her.

As the defensive magic was slowly withdrawn, the invisible oppressive feeling in the air did not dissipate. Instead, it tightened suddenly in the next instant, like an invisible giant net strangling everyone's throats.

She immediately realized she had made a serious mistake.

In that very instant.

Space seemed to be forcibly torn apart.

Dark magic surged into the manor's forecourt like a burst dam, carrying with it a suffocating stench and murderous intent.

Accompanied by an extremely piercing explosion, more than a dozen figures appeared almost simultaneously through Apparition —silver masks gleamed with a chilling light in the firelight, and serpentine emblems writhed like living creatures on black robes.

Voldemort stood at the forefront, his crimson pupils like two solidified flames of blood, looking down over the entire manor with a cruel and cold smile on his lips.

Behind him, eleven Death Eaters formed a deadly crescent formation; further away, eight Werewolf lurked in the shadows, suppressing growls rumbling from their throats, their fangs dripping foul-smelling saliva that gleamed eerily green in the moonlight.

This was a pre-planned decapitation operation.

Almost at the same instant Voldemort appeared, Amelia drew her staff and roared, "Enemy attack!!"

As Amelia shouted, everyone rushed into the hall. The last defensive barrier on the manor gate lit up with golden light, but it only lasted for less than a second.

Boom!

A blinding red light shot out from the tip of Voldemort's wand, instantly blasting the door and the entire wall into a shower of rubble. The shockwave knocked the nearest House Elf to the ground, their blood splattering onto the ruins.

"Damn Fudge!" Amelia roared between incantations, her voice hoarse with rage, "You dare to collude with Voldemort! You deserve to die!"

Hide in the corner, Fudge was deathly pale, his voice trembling. "Don't... don't blame me, I just want to live."

As they spoke, the Death Eaters and Werewolf stormed into the hall. The two sides then engaged in an even fiercer battle, utilizing various obstacles within the hall.

At the critical moment...

Susan took a deep breath, gripped her wand tightly, and her eyes suddenly blazed with purple magic, as if her bloodline, dormant for a thousand years, had been ignited in that instant.

The next moment, purple skeletal phantoms rose up around her.

It was the "Holy Spirit's Remains" forged from the magic within the bloodline of the Bones family. Its ribs intertwined to form a closed domain, and its arm bones stretched out like a giant shield. All the Dark Arts aimed at Susan and Amelia disintegrated and vanished the moment it touched that purple phantom, turning into countless fragments of light.

The Werewolf's charge was forcefully halted, and the Death Eaters' focused fire spell was deflected and torn apart, resulting in a brief stalemate in the manor's forecourt.

"Keep the onslaught!" Voldemort's lips slowly curled into a cold, confident smile, seemingly excited about the impending carnage, especially since he recognized the girl as one of Skylar's key figures. "Her innate ability won't last long. As long as we keep attacking, we'll eventually exhaust her magic."

The Killing Curse and Cruciatus Curse poured out like a storm, causing violent ripples to spread across the surface of the purple field, with each impact producing a piercing explosion.

Susan was pale, beads of sweat forming on her forehead, her legs trembling slightly, yet she gritted her teeth and held on. Amelia and the remaining bodyguards seized the opportunity to counterattack, but the sheer quantity and intensity of the Dark Arts had overwhelmed them, leaving them barely able to breathe.

Voldemort took a step forward, slowly raising his wand, the tip of which condensed into a thick, almost tangible green light.

At this critical moment...

Boom!!!

The outer wall of the manor suddenly shattered, and a huge silver-white light shield suddenly unfolded, enveloping the entire front courtyard. Dozens of crimson, azure, and gold Stupefy and Expelliarmus poured down from the night sky like a meteor shower, accurately striking every Werewolf and Death Eaters.

"All personnel, launch an assault! Protect the Minister!"

More than twenty fully armed Auror appeared at the same time, instantly surrounding Voldemort and his group.

The balance of power was completely reversed in that instant.