Are wizards not meant to be high and mighty?
This forced concealment breeds resentment and humiliation.
Many wizards would also swell with pride, then ask themselves inwardly, why should wizards wielding real power hide like mice beneath Muggle society? Why should we, who possess the ability to change the world, submit to a group of “Squibs” who know nothing about magic? Resentment thus breeds amidst unnoticed fear.
Grindelwald precisely captured and magnified this prevalent fear and resentment. He did not create hatred out of thin air but refined the long-repressed traumas and injustices deep within the wizard community into a highly provocative political agenda.
He declared.
“For the Greater Good,” wizards should no longer hide but step out to rule over Muggles, to protect the entire magic world from potential future persecution. In Grindelwald’s view, Muggle technological advancements—planes, cars, radio—symbolize an uncontrollable, destructive force.
Muggles are wielding technology.
To control power that should only be possessed by wizards.
He prophesied that Muggles will use these weapons to slaughter each other, eventually threatening the safety of wizards. Therefore, eliminating or ruling over Muggles is not out of malice but a preemptive self-defense, a necessary means to ensure the everlasting survival of the magical race. Grindelwald’s speeches resonated because he provided countless ordinary wizards an outlet to vent their fear.
He transformed vague, individual anxiety into a clear, collective action goal. He told those wizards living in the crevices of Muggle society, your fears are legitimate, your humiliation is real, and the solution is to unite and seize the initiative.
On this foundation of claims.
The picture Grindelwald painted was highly alluring.
A world led by wise, powerful wizards, orderly, far from ignorance and chaos. In such a world, the tragedy of witch hunts will never replay.
Magic shall openly blossom.
Ask yourself.
What anxious wizard could resist such temptation?
“The times have shaped Grindelwald’s ideology.” Ian could feel the unease in today’s wizards observing Muggle novelties, even if they appear fascinated outwardly.
If someone steps up to guide this sentiment, Africa may well produce another Grindelwald—of course, Ian would never become that person.
He inherently doesn’t belong to this era.
He fully understands how the times will unfold, and since they have little impact on Muggles and wizards alike, he won’t go meddling with history.
After watching for a while, Ian lost interest.
Things that seem novel to ordinary wizards were many he has witnessed throughout his long life journey.
Especially in his previous life.
Muggle technology even advanced to reach the sky above, and penetrate the depths of the universe; plans like the South Celestial Gate evolved at speeds wizards wouldn’t dare imagine.
In the Fantastic Beasts series set against the backdrop of the 1920-1940s, Grindelwald’s fear of Muggle technology primarily focused on then-visible “destructive” forces: poison gas, tanks, and machine guns from the First World War and the larger-scale slaughter he foresaw from the Second World War.
The Muggle development he saw was linear, centered around physical violence and war machinery progress. However, if we extend our perspective to the 21st century.
The era Ian lived in before he traversed time, one would find that Muggle development has long surpassed Grindelwald’s wildest nightmares, entering a dimension he could never anticipate—a new age blending myth, science fiction, and cutting-edge technology.
Grindelwald’s cognitive limitation was viewing Muggles as “magically lacking” primitive beings, posing threats only through chemical explosives, steel torrents, and incendiary bombs. He couldn’t understand that while Muggles didn’t wield spells or magic wands, they wielded a more terrifying force—collective wisdom and infinitely iterative scientific rationality.
This power doesn’t rely on individual talent but achieves exponential knowledge growth through education, collaboration, and systematic research. The “South Celestial Gate Plan” embodies this pinnacle of power. The plan wasn’t a single weapon but a grand, systemic space defense and combat system concept.
It envisioned a three-dimensional network comprising large spacecraft carriers, variable space fighters, and orbital defense platforms, beyond any bombers or zeppelins Grindelwald feared.
Imagine, to Grindelwald, flying brooms and Apparition were exquisite magic, yet Muggles could design giant warships to traverse both atmospheric layers freely, conduct hypersonic flights, possibly even equipped with directed-energy weapons. These “metal dragons” require no magical power; by human intellect unraveling physical laws, they establish mobile fortresses in the clouds, versus which any wizard castle pales.
Ian has seen these things firsthand, more real than any prophetic ability.
Precisely because of this.
In comparison.
Just an early-stage phone, merely akin to a big, old cell phone thing, for Ian, it indeed doesn’t stir any excitement to join the crowd.
He turned away from the bustling exhibit area, heading towards those dimly lit, sparsely populated corners at the market’s edge. At the end of a dead-end alley strewn with discarded wooden crates and sundries, Ian paused. It was silent and unattended here, with only the faint noise from the distant market.
“Seems the time is about right.” He confirmed once more with the beast-skin map in his embrace, then took out the black wooden box. Opening the lid revealed a smoothly surfaced stone that appeared as ordinary as a pebble, cold to the touch—this was the Door Key to the African Ministry of Magic.
“Let’s see how Newt’s interrogation is going.”
Ian took a deep breath, pressing his hand steadily onto the pebble while injecting a trace of pure magic power as Baboua had instructed.
A familiar sensation, like being yanked hard at the navel by a hook, came across him, and the surroundings began distorting, spinning, stretching into blurred ribbons.
The wooden crates, walls, and ground vanished; he seemed swept into a swirling, multicolored vortex. This sensation didn’t last long, perhaps only a few seconds.
When his feet touched solid ground again and the surroundings restabilized, an irritating smell of disinfectant and some cheap air freshener mixture permeated his nostrils.
“Seems like people here in Africa have quite the issue with body odor.” Ian understood well that perfumes were invented to cover body odors—why else would Easterners use no perfume while Westerners did?
It’s simply due to Westerners having a stronger scent, hence the invention of perfume. Easterners only admire floral fragrance, so they use many flowers to make natural perfumes.
“Let me see, is this Door Key a trap of entrapment enforcement?” Ian steadied himself, scrutinizing the surroundings, and it proved he was clearly overthinking things.
He was standing in a small space tiled white.
In front stood a ceramic toilet, paper roll hanging on the nearby wall. Above there was an energy-saving lamp emitting a bleak white light, with no enforcement officers lying in wait here.
Yet it was indeed a… restroom stall.
Empty.
However, he soon regained composure. At least, the Door Key accurately brought him in, without triggering alarms or encountering entrapment enforcement.
“This is even more speechless than running into entrapment enforcement, indicating severe corruption in the African Ministry of Magic.” Ian gently pushed open the stall door and exited. Outside was a public restroom lined with a row of sinks, appearing clean and tidy but vacant.
The wall clock displayed just after two in the morning.
The African Ministry of Magic’s night shift had officially welcomed an uninvited legendary visitor. Ian adjusted his robes, his gaze becoming sharp and focused, like a cheetah blending into shadows, silently pushing open the restroom door, stepping into the silent and vacant corridor outside.
No alarms were triggered.