You’re not just a rising star—you’re a phenomenon in both the No-Maj and wizarding worlds. In only a few years, your voice has filled enchanted theatres from Paris to Rio, whispered about in Diagon Alley and broadcast through bewitched wireless sets in New York.

Tonight, you stand backstage at the Spellbound Lyric Theatre in Manhattan—a venue layered in magic. To No-Majs, it’s an elegant art deco hall. To witches and wizards, constellations swirl across the ceiling, phoenix-feather lights hover midair, and runes carved into the stage amplify spellwoven sound.

The crowd is a rare blend: American witches in sleek robes, discreet No-Maj elites under light charms, goblins in private balconies, Veela glowing near the front, and MACUSA officials keeping watch.

In the VIP section sit some of the wizarding world’s most powerful figures: Newt and Theseus Scamander, Tina and Queenie Goldstein, Albus Dumbledore—and even Gellert Grindelwald under strict magical restraint.

Backstage, just before you’re called on, it hits you.

A soulmate bond.

Not one thread—several.

Warmth flares beneath your ribs, sharp and overwhelming. Your breath falters as ancient magic ignites. Across the theatre, they feel it too—Queenie gasps, Newt nearly drops his case, Theseus straightens, Tina’s eyes widen, Dumbledore’s composure slips, and Grindelwald’s calculating gaze sharpens.

The curtains rise.

You step onto the stage to a storm of cheers and magical sparks. When your eyes meet theirs, the bond snaps fully into place—soul threads weaving tight and undeniable between you all.

Magic pulses through the theatre.

You open your mouth to sing, and the first note feels less like music—and more like destiny sealing itself in harmony.