Ministry of Magic...
The fireplace in the war room roared, casting flickering shadows on the tall walls lined with old portraits of past Ministers.
Magical charts floated mid-air—
Maps of England and Europe.
Minister Jenkins stood beside a large magical table,
Leaning over a glowing map where several red dots had just vanished—
Marking the collapse of three major enemy sites.
Beside her stood Professor Minerva McGonagall, arms folded tightly across her chest, her expression one of weary relief.
"So it's true then,"
Minerva said softly.
"Leo's squad crushed the enemies in the Knocktrun alley. And Dumbledore subdued Voldemort, and he escaped, while Grindelwald too won with his side."
Minister Jenkins nodded, her eyes gleaming.
Nod~
"Confirmed. But the sites have fallen. The wards are down. It's a major victory."
For a moment, both women allowed themselves the rare luxury of a breath—
A pause in the chaos.
"Three strikes,"
Jenkins said.
"Three of the troublesome positions... and we've taken them all in one night."
"Let's hope this shakes Voldemort's faith in his inner circle."
Minerva added.
"He's running out of places to hide."
Just as a smile threatened to tug at the corner of Jenkins' lips—
CRASH.
The doors to the war room burst open as a senior aide rushed in, face pale, scroll in hand.
"Minister!"
He called out, breathless.
"Urgent report from the south!"
Jenkins took the parchment with a frown and scanned it.
Frown~
"_____"
Her expression darkened instantly.
"No…"
Minerva tilted her head.
"What is it?"
Jenkins didn't respond immediately.
Her lips tightened as she handed the parchment to Minerva, who read aloud.
"The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black... has fallen."
The room fell silent.
"____"
"____"
"____"
Even the enchanted portraits on the wall seemed to lean in with morbid curiosity.
"Who...?"
Minerva whispered, her voice suddenly dry.
"Moody,"
Jenkins replied quietly.
"Dead. Along with most of the family. The only survivors—Cygnus and his wife, Sirius, and Regulus, who were at Hogwarts. Both are currently unaccounted for. And black sisters who were currently not part of the family."
Minerva's breath caught.
She sat down, almost involuntarily.
"As much as I disagreed with their ideology,"
She murmured,
"The Blacks never supported Voldemort. They held the old laws sacred. And now... they're gone."
Jenkins's voice was steady, but the weight in it was undeniable.
"The loss of any ancient family—even one as flawed as the Blacks—is a loss to our society's foundation. They stood as a bulwark, neutral in this war. Their fall sends a message... one Voldemort wants the world to hear."
"He's pruning the old bloodlines who don't follow him."
Minerva said bitterly.
"The ones he doesn't control."
Jenkins slowly folded the parchment.
"This war's not just about blood or power anymore. It's a message: Stand aside, or be destroyed."
Minerva looked up, jaw tight.
"And what message shall we send back?"
Jenkins met her gaze, unflinching.
"That he's made a fatal mistake."
Meanwhile...
Dark clouds rolled across the moonlit sky as ships docked and departed in eerie silence from the shadowy coves of southern England.
It was no ordinary night.
Something unseen but palpable had wrapped its grip around the wizarding world—
Fear.
The kind that seeps into your bones and drives even the most hardened to flee.
The Ministry's surprise strike had shattered a long-held illusion:
That Voldemort and his allies were untouchable.
And now, the ones who had whispered their allegiance in private—
Pure-blood families, hidden donors, rogue officials—
We're running.
Aboard a creaking, warded ship known only as The Phantom Dagger, cloaked figures shuffled quietly, carrying a long, rune-covered crate.
Inside it lay Lord Voldemort, completely still.
His eyes closed, arms folded.
"____"
His body gave off no magical signature—
He had shut everything down.
Even his most loyal followers were confused.
"Is this really necessary?"
One muttered nervously, glancing over the crate.
"He looks... dead."
Another shook his head in fearful reverence.
"Not dead. He knocked himself out. Voluntarily."
"Why?!"
"He says if he's asleep, fate can't 'see' him. That bad luck is drawn to his decisions... so if he stops making any, the storm might pass over him."
"That's insane."
"No... It's Voldemort."
Back in London,
The Ministry's Purge Act had ignited something no one expected: panic among the inner circle.
Magical carriages and broom convoys left in the dead of night.
Disguises, forged passports, magical disguise charms—
All deployed to escape accountability.
Even the richest pure-bloods were pulling gold from Gringotts and vanishing.
Safehouses in Switzerland, Bulgaria, and parts of Africa were lighting up like fireflies.
Some called it cowardice.
Others called it wisdom.
Others called it a strategic withdrawal.
But one thing was clear—
No one expected the Ministry to hit this hard, this fast.
Back on the ship,
A dark figure approached the crate, brushing dust off the lid with quiet irritation.
It was Jimmy Mitchum.
"So this is what it's come to?"
He sneered.
"Our Dark Lord playing dead like a sleeping dog?"
The crew froze.
No one dared speak.
"____"
"____"
"____"
Jimmy leaned close to the crate and whispered.
"Let's hope your gamble pays off, Tom. Because if it doesn't... you'll be the first body overboard."
He turned, cloak sweeping behind him, and vanished below deck.
From within the crate, Voldemort didn't move.
But his lips curved into the faintest, most unsettling smile.
He wasn't gone.
He was waiting.
Three Days into the Purge...
The storm hadn't passed.
If anything, it had grown worse.
Over the past three days, the wizarding world watched as the Ministry's Purge Act unfolded like a silent but ruthless tempest.
Families who once boasted ancient bloodlines and whispered their ties to shadowy causes were now fleeing Britain, abandoning mansions, vaults, and… their children.
Even Hogwarts—
Once a sanctuary—
Was not spared.
Hogwarts...
The Great Hall, once filled with laughter and the rustle of robes, now stood eerily quiet.
Half-filled tables.
Half-hearted meals.
Too many empty seats.
Stacks of parchment marked with official stamps sat in front of Professors Flitwick and Slughorn.
The two sat hunched at the Ravenclaw table, exhaustion etched into their eyes.
"Thirty-two more transfer requests just today,"
Flitwick said, barely louder than a whisper, adjusting his spectacles with a trembling hand.
"Families escaping to Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Ilvermorny… even Mahoutokoro,"
Slughorn muttered, setting down a quill.
"Some didn't even wait. Portkeyed their children out overnight. Using the forbidden forest."
A first-year from Slytherin burst into quiet tears at the far end of the hall, her letter from home crumpled in her hands.
No one approached her.
Everyone was dealing with their own heartbreak.
The corridors of Hogwarts had changed.
Portraits whispered in worried tones.
Suits of armour stood tense, as if expecting battle.
Even Peeves had gone quiet, floating like a spectre rather than a menace.
Students from pure-blood families who had remained behind were nervous.
Some clung to excuses of neutrality.
Others kept their heads down.
And a few—
Especially those from House Dragon—
Had begun to stand taller, sensing a shift in the tide.
In the shadows of the Astronomy Tower, Professor McGonagall stood wrapped in her tartan cloak, arms crossed tightly against the wind.
Next to her stood Minister Jenkins, gazing down at the forest below where Centaurs still patrolled, alert after Valac's chilling appearance and saving their asses.
She has visited personally to reassure students that they are safe here.
The younger generation here won't be accountable for their families' actions, they could continue their legacies, but if they tried to follow in the same footsteps ministry would put an end to them with their iron hands.
"And Hogwarts?"
Jenkins asked, her voice low.
"We're doing what we can."
McGonagall replied grimly.
"But fear spreads fast. Even with the best efforts of Flitwick and Slughorn... the damage is done. They've lost family. This will leave a mark."
"And Leo?"
"He hasn't spoken much."
McGonagall said.
"But his presence alone keeps many from panicking. The House Dragon students look to him as if he were Merlin himself."
Minister Jenkins nodded solemnly.
Nod~
"Then let's hope their faith is well placed. The true war hasn't even started."
Day 5 –
The Purge Ends...
By the fifth day, the storm had passed.
Smoke no longer curled into the skies.
The thundering boots of Aurors ceased echoing through cobbled alleys.
The shrieks of curses and flashes of magic gave way to an eerie calm.
Britain had done what no one expected—
Cleansed itself with frightening efficiency.
The Purge was over.
But the shockwaves it sent through the global wizarding community had just begun.
Daily Prophet Headlines...
Stacks of newspapers hit doorsteps across the globe.
In Britain, Europe, America, and even as far as Japan and other countries that had a wizarding council or ministry,
The magical world held its breath, reading headline after headline.
-->Daily Prophet (UK):
"Purge Complete: Ministry Strikes with Iron Wand!"
Dumbledore, Morningstar, Grindelwald — An Unlikely Alliance That Changed History.
-->Le Sorcier Nouvelle (France):
"A Storm in the Isles – Britain's Bloody Cleansing Raises Alarms"
-->Durmstrang Dispatch (Northern Europe)
"Grindelwald Sides with Ministry? Former Revolutionary Now a Government Ally"
-->New York Spell Times (USA)
"Britain Purges Dark Houses – But At What Cost?"
ICW Councilroom...
In the International Confederation of Wizards' council chambers, voices rang in every language—
Outrage, admiration, disbelief.
"They acted without permission from the global community!"
"They rooted out darkness at its root—perhaps we should learn from them."
"Grindelwald and Dumbledore on the same side again? This could be catastrophic… or a turning point."
Some feared it was the beginning of tyranny.
Others whispered it was necessary justice.
But the name that appeared, again and again, crossing lips in suspicion and reverence alike—
Leo Morningstar.
Hogwarts...
Leo's Office...
The candlelight flickered as Leo Morningstar sat in quiet thought, a copy of the Daily Prophet opens in front of him.
On the cover, a grainy image showed him walking beside Grindelwald and Dumbledore, cloaked in shadows,
Aurors flanking them, as unconscious dark wizards lay at their feet.
He didn't react to the image.
"____"
His fingers only drummed softly against the desk.
Thud.
A knock came at the door.
Knock~ Knock~
"Enter,"
Leo said calmly.
It was Minerva.
"The world's eyes are on you now."
She said, stepping in.
"Some are afraid. Others... ready to follow."
Leo looked up, eyes steady.
"Let them watch,"
He replied.
"What comes next will decide if it was all worth it."
Few Days After...
Just as the wizarding world began to breathe again after the purge, another announcement arrived—
One that sent ripples of disbelief and awe across magical nations.
Breaking News...
--> Daily Prophet Special Edition
📰 "BRITAIN TO FORM A NEW GOVERNMENT – ZERO UNEMPLOYMENT, UNPRECEDENTED OPPORTUNITIES PROMISED!"
The headlines screamed hope, but the tone underneath was tinged with uncertainty.
The article was brief and bold:
"The British Ministry of Magic will undergo full integration into a new government system, promising not just reform but revolution.
Job creation, magical innovation, equality across bloodlines, and a bold vision for a future without unemployment—this is the dawn of a new age for magical Britain."
"The proposal, made behind closed doors, was met with unanimous agreement by Ministry officials… under one condition. A condition kept strictly confidential."
The world stared, stunned.
The International Community and the various Councils of Magic Nations were in disbelief.
In floating towers, grand castles, and enchanted conference halls, the magical elite argued furiously.
"Zero unemployment? In a magical economy? Preposterous!"
"Is this some sort of trap? Who's behind this new system?"
"First the purge… now this? Is Britain under the new rule of a dark lord? Could it be Grindelwald?"
No one knew the truth—
Only whispers circulated.
That something was promised… something offered so tempting, so overwhelming,
The that no official who could deny it.
But what could compel an entire Ministry to bow in agreement without protest?
Flashback...
Two Days Ago...
Ministry of Magic...
High Council Chamber...
The atmosphere inside the Ministry's secured meeting room was electric.
Protective enchantments shimmered faintly over the walls—
Layered with everything from anti-eavesdropping charms to Unbreakable Vows binding all present to secrecy.
Seated around the long obsidian table were every top official who had retained their position after the purge…
And the new faces now filling the emptied chairs left behind by those who had fled or fallen.
Among them sat a young man with a hardened expression—
Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody.
The brutal purge had cost him his eye, but not his resolve.
A faint magical glow pulsated from the enchanted replacement now nestled in its place.
"____"
He remained silent, alert, watching everyone.
At the head of the table stood Minister Jenkins, flanked by Leo Morningstar, his cloak swaying gently as if the air itself moved differently around him.
The two shared a brief glance—
Silent, knowing.
"____"
"____"
Then Minister Jenkins spoke, her voice calm but firm.
"Today marks a turning point. What we built over centuries has grown old, brittle, and flawed. The world has changed. It's time we change as well."
The room shifted—
Several leaned forward warily.
"We will dismantle the existing Ministry system… and create a new magical government. A structure with real efficiency, transparency, and opportunity."
"Our goal… is zero unemployment. No witch or wizard left behind. Everyone will have a place, a purpose—and a path forward."
For a moment, silence.
"____"
"____"
"____"
Then—
An uproar.
Chairs scraped back.
Voices shouted over each other.
"This is madness!"
"We're not Muggles to chase after political slogans!"
"You're undermining centuries of wizarding tradition!"
"Zero unemployment? What kind of utopia fantasy is this?"
One particularly loud wizard from Magical Law Enforcement slammed his fist on the table.
"You're suggesting we burn down the very institution that guards magical law and order!"
Minister Jenkins raised a hand,
But it was Leo who took a step forward—
His voice cut through the clamour like a blade.
"Then let it burn."
He said coldly.
"If it is no longer worthy of the people it was built to serve."
The entire room fell silent.
His gaze swept across them—
Intense, unflinching.
"This is not a fantasy. It's the future. The only question is… will you fight it, or lead it?"
All eyes turned to Minister Jenkins again.
She calmly placed a sealed black scroll at the centre of the table—
Marked with a symbol none of them recognised.
"This transformation comes with a price. One condition,"
She said.
"We all agreed to it. And you will too."
The tension in the room shifted.
No one asked what was in the scroll.
The magic it radiated was warning enough: some truths weren't meant to be spoken out loud.
Moody tapped his wand on the table.
"I don't like it,"
He muttered.
"But the world's already bleeding. May as well give it a new skeleton to grow around."
Moody and others took the black envelope before them, which had been multiplied by the minister.
They wanted to know what the conditions and benefits in agreeing to the minister.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N)I hope you guys are enjoying the story.
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give a review
And power stone!!!
It will Motivate Me.