Then he turned to Lucius. "Set the Shadow Society in motion. Make sure the Daily Prophet coverage is full of 'outrage at injustice' and calls for 'procedural justice.' Have our friends within the Wizengamot add fuel to the fire, questioning the legality of Dumbledore's actions and emphasizing the necessity of a public trial. Before the trial even begins, we must turn the winds of the Wizarding World completely in our favor. The purpose of this trial is not to prove Lockhart innocent—he has always stood with us—but to utterly destroy Dumbledore's prestige, tear apart the Wizengamot, and let chaos become our cover."
Lucius bowed deeply, his posture elegant yet resolute. "Your will, Lord Madara. I will see to it at once. Professor Lockhart's letter will become the Wizarding World's only topic by tomorrow morning."
"Wait." Madara sat back down in the shadows, his Sharingan seeming to contain endless stars and destruction. "Gilderoy, don't go back tonight. Lucius, have someone prepare a guest room for him. Let me see just how brilliantly you will shine at the public trial."
"I will not disappoint you, Lord Madara!" Lockhart's voice brimmed with the exhilaration of newfound power and absolute loyalty. He bowed as he stepped backward, then turned and strode away.
As Lockhart departed, the Chamber of Secrets had dimmed to its lowest point. The flames changed from orange-red to dark red, then from dark red to ash white. Madara sat in his chair with his right leg crossed over his left, his fingers lightly tapping against his knee, once after another.
Madara's eyes were closed, yet his gaze had long since extended outward through magic, lighting up the nodes controlled by the Shadow Society throughout London's Wizarding World. He could observe many places at once—the editorial office of the Daily Prophet, the