Ministry of Magic's Confrontation at Hogwarts
The heavy oak doors of the Great Hall slammed open with a thunderous echo. A delegation from the Ministry of Magic, led by the stern-faced Minister himself, strode into the castle. Their presence sucked the warmth from the room.
Daniel stood calmly, cloak swirling, eyes cold as ice. The Minister's voice cut through the murmur like a knife.
"Daniel, you are hereby ordered to cease all teaching of forbidden magic immediately and come with us for questioning."
Daniel's gaze flicked to the Minister, then to the five Dementors lurking like shadows at his side. He didn't flinch.
"Do you really want to try that, Minister?" Daniel's voice was low, dangerously calm.
He turned slowly to face the Dementors. "Take this filth out of my castle."
The Dementors hesitated a moment, then glided forward, vanishing through the walls as Daniel's command rippled through the air like a cold storm.
The Minister paled but tried to keep his composure. "You are challenging the authority of the Ministry."
Daniel stepped forward, his presence swallowing the space between them.
"I am the reckoning the Ministry fears. Not the law, not your orders. And not your Dementors."
His eyes locked on the Minister. "Tell me, how many have you failed to protect? How many lives were lost because you feared to act?"
Before the Minister could respond, a new figure appeared at the edge of the hall—Lucius Malfoy, his silver hair gleaming like a blade in the dim light.
Daniel's eyes narrowed. "Lucius."
Lucius gave a tight smile, his voice dripping with false charm. "Daniel, always a pleasure, though I must say, your methods concern me."
Daniel's voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "I'll give you one warning, Lucius. If your son or you ever turn into another 'Death's contractor' again, I will personally collect your souls. No excuses."
Lucius' smile faltered. "Don't come to me with tales of magic use. We both know how that goes."
Daniel's expression hardened, the weight of eternity pressing down on the moment.
"Excuses don't save you from the reaper's scythe."
He turned sharply, the cloak flaring like a shadow swallowed by night.
"Consider this your final warning."
The Ministry's Shadowed Fear
The Minister retreated to the cold, stone-walled chamber deep within the Ministry of Magic. His hands trembled imperceptibly as he closed the heavy oak door behind him. The echoes of Daniel's chilling command haunted the room like a sinister whisper.
Around him, his council sat stiff and pale, the air thick with unease.
"We underestimated him," one advisor muttered, voice low and tight.
The Minister paced, eyes burning with a mix of fear and fury. "He defies us openly. Threatens our Dementors like they're mere dogs. And Malfoy? Daniel just told him — me — that he'll personally collect their souls if they step out of line."
A ripple of nervous murmurs spread.
"We've been dancing on the edge of a blade with Daniel for too long," another council member said. "His control over forbidden magics, his power — it's beyond anything we've seen. The balance is tipping."
The Minister's gaze darkened. "He's no longer a teacher at Hogwarts. He's become the reckoning — the shadow looming over us all."
Outside the chamber, whispers raced through the corridors of the Ministry like wildfire.
"Death walks with Daniel."
"Not even the Dementors can touch him."
"The Ministry's strongest are powerless before him."
Dread settled like a cold fog over every department, from Aurors to bureaucrats.
Meanwhile, the Order of the Phoenix convened in secrecy, their faces drawn and tense.
"Daniel is a threat we can't ignore," said one member grimly.
"But he's protecting Harry," another countered. "And if anyone can prepare him for what's coming, it's Daniel."
A heated silence followed.
The Minister's voice cracked over a crackling communication mirror.
"We must contain him... before his justice becomes chaos."
The Weasleys Defend Daniel
The Great Hall was thick with tension, voices rising, but amidst the storm, a firm voice cut through — that of the Weasleys.
"It should be like this," Arthur Weasley said, standing tall, eyes fierce. "The school must teach our children how to defend themselves — not just wave wands and hope for the best."
He scanned the room, daring to challenge the doubters. "Tell me — how many of you, after your children graduated, truly know how to cast a protective shield? How many can defend themselves from real danger?"
A smirk crossed his face, a quiet pride shining through. "Believe it or not, Ron already masters the shield charm. He wrote me a letter, you know. And my other kids? They're learning fast too."
Dumbledore listened silently, his eyes shadowed.
Alastor Moody grunted from his seat, gravelly voice cutting like a blade. "That's exactly what we need — warriors, not weaklings. The Ministry won't lift a finger, and neither will Dumbledore."
He shook his head, almost amused. "Imagine the Ministry trying to contain someone with Daniel's mind and power — they'd be dust in less than a second."
Moody leaned forward, voice dropping. "He's crafting combatants, forging a united front — tearing down the rivalries between the Houses."
He paused, eyes narrowing. "Notice how Slytherins don't speak of joining him anymore? They know what's waiting. Death isn't kind, and Daniel won't be either."
A hush fell. The words hung like a cold wind — brutal truth wrapped in respect.