(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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A deep thrum reverberated through the air, followed by a blinding flash across the aurora sky.
Then it came—
THRUUUM~
A pulse, vast and unseen, blasted outward from the heavens.
It passed through the stadium like a tidal wave of raw magic, rattling the stands, shaking banners, and making the very air shimmer.
"____"
"____"
"____"
Everyone flinched, shielding themselves.
But then… nothing.
The witches and wizards blinked, untouched.
The muggles seated among them—
Families of half-blood and muggle-born students—
Looked around in confusion.
They felt nothing more than a faint static prickling their skin, as if the air itself had briefly brushed their souls.
A relieved murmur spread.
For those inside the stadium, it seemed harmless.
But outside…
The pulse rippled across Britain like a storm front, and in its wake, chaos bloomed.
And the pulse continued to storm front intending to cover all over the world.
Street lamps in London exploded in showers of sparks.
Car engines died mid-road, leaving traffic snarled.
Phones, radios, and televisions shorted out, emitting a shrill static before going dark.
Planes crossing the skies bucked violently,
Their controls freezing as pilots screamed through dead radios.
In homes across the country, muggles clutched their heads as waves of dizziness overcame them—some collapsing outright.
Electronic devices sparked, burned, and died in their hands.
Hospitals lost power, alarms shrieked, and emergency generators flickered uselessly.
And then came the strange signs.
Children who had never shown a spark of magic suddenly lit candles with a sneeze.
A terrified teenager accidentally levitated his entire couch into the ceiling.
In a village pub, mugs of ale floated into the air before shattering, soaking horrified patrons.
All these changes were temporary since their body experience sudden magic rush.
And soon lost their power they just got.
But still they need a catalyst to properly become a wizard or witch.
But in the stadium...
None of this could be seen—
Only felt.
Wizards stiffened.
Many grabbed their wands instinctively, whispering to one another in dread tones.
Dumbledore's gaze hardened as he looked up at the aurora clouds.
"It has begun."
Grindelwald smirked faintly, a glint of hunger in his eyes.
"The first wave always shakes the foundations."
Minister Jenkins clenched her fists, forcing her voice to remain steady as she whispered toward Leo.
"Tell me—how much worse will it get?"
And Leo, calm and grim, simply said.
"This… is only the beginning."
Far beyond Dartmoor, the world shuddered.
Everywhere the first magic wave rolled, it left chaos in its wake.
Cities fell into darkness.
The global web of satellites and communication links flickered into silence, cut away as if severed by an invisible hand.
And in the halls of power—
Panic.
In Washington, London, Beijing, Moscow—
Across every war room and high-security bunker—
Red phones lay dead, computers fried, and generals screamed at powerless technicians.
What terrified them most, however, was not the loss of communication…
But what they had just done.
Moments before the wave hit, in their fear and arrogance, several governments had given the same desperate order:
Launch.
A rain of nuclear warheads had cut across the skies, targeted at wizarding strongholds.
Dartmoor.
The Ministry of Magic in London.
The French Ministry in Paris.
The International Confederation headquarters in Switzerland.
And many more.
Dozens of fireballs meant to erase the magical world in one ruthless strike.
But now—
High above the clouds, missiles lost their fury.
Their boosters sputtered, flames snuffed out mid-flight.
Radar screens, before going black, showed the dots slowing… then halting… then falling.
Before finally the radar screen gone blank.
In stunned silence, officers watched the feeds until they died.
"____"
"____"
"____"
And then came the reports—
Impact zones, not in wizarding strongholds, but in their own lands.
Warheads plummeted into military test ranges, farmlands, and even cities.
KAAAAA - BOOOOOOM!
Explosions ripped through muggle soil and concrete, their own weapons turning against them.
Mushroom clouds bloomed not in the skies of wizards,
But over the very people who had pressed the buttons.
Screams filled bunkers as commanders realized the truth.
They had just declared war… on itself.
And in Dartmoor,
Where the crowd still reeled from the wave,
Leo's eyes narrowed.
"____"
He felt it—
The distant ripples of destruction, the hum of magic bending even mankind's most terrible weapons.
He murmured softly, though his words cut like steel.
"Foolish. You tried to burn us… but only succeeded in burning yourselves."
Dumbledore's expression grew grim.
"____"
Grindelwald chuckled darkly. Minister Jenkins' knuckles went white as she whispered.
"They'll blame us for this."
Leo turned his gaze skyward, unflinching.
"They should. For once, they will finally understand: the age of hiding is over."
The thunder of distant destruction echoed across the world,
Though here in Dartmoor, it came as no more than a whisper of dread.
Still, its effect was unmistakable—
The cries of innocents had pierced the fabric of magic itself.
Faces in the stands turned pale, parents clutched their children, and whispers of doom spread like wildfire.
Sensing the panic, Leo stepped forward.
He raised a hand, his calm presence cutting through the hysteria like a blade.
A single cough, deliberate, pulled all eyes back to him.
Cough~
"Ladies and gentlemen,"
He said, his voice amplified by charm yet steady as steel,
"The Wizarding New Year Celebration will now begin. Enjoy it, cherish it. This day will be remembered not for fear, but for the start of a new age."
The words, though simple, carried weight.
The crowd, desperate for reassurance, seized on them.
Applause rose hesitantly at first, then grew louder.
And as Leo stepped back, the stage lit up with shimmering magic—
Veela dancers sweeping into the arena,
Their movements like living flames, weaving beauty into the fear-choked air.
The roar of the crowd followed, drowning the whispers for now.
But behind the curtains, there was no illusion of calm.
Leo walked briskly beside Minister Jenkins, Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Nicolas Flamel,
Leaving the festival's glow behind.
His eyes, sharp as a hawk's, never strayed from the horizon.
"Close the borders,"
He ordered, his tone brooking no argument.
"Send word to every Ministry. Arrest or summon every witch and wizard living among muggles. No exceptions. If the Ministries hesitate, offer them passage here—to Britain. We cannot risk our own people being slaughtered in the name of muggle wars."
Jenkins, still pale from the knowledge of what the muggles had attempted, nodded quickly.
Nod~
"Some will resist. Not all Ministries will obey."
"Then,"
Leo said flatly,
"Let them send their families here. If their governments cannot protect them, we will."
Grindelwald smirked, eyes gleaming with the thrill of what was unfolding.
Smirk~
"Borders closed, families pulled back… isolation will come whether they like it or not. Exactly as I foresaw."
Dumbledore's gaze was softer, though just as troubled.
"But at what cost? Innocents are burning in the muggle world tonight."
Leo's jaw tightened, but he did not answer.
"____"
He knew.
He had felt it—
The echo of millions crying out in terror as fire rained down upon them.
But his focus was ironbound.
His duty was here.
To shield his world.
Behind them, the music of Veela dancing rang out, blissfully unaware of the shadows gathering just beyond the lights of Dartmoor.
The emergency messages flew across the globe—
Enchanted scrolls sealed with the Ministry of Britain's crest, carrying the weight of five signatures:
Minister Jenkins, Leo Morningstar, Gellert Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore, and Nicolas Flamel.
Together, those names radiated authority no government could ignore.
Within hours, the ripple of responses began.
In France, the council hesitated.
Families pressed at the borders, clutching their children, begging to be allowed through.
Some Aurors obeyed the British directive and began herding them in.
Others slammed gates shut, declaring,
"France will not bow to foreign influence."
Soon, families were divided—
Some escaping into Britain, others trapped, eyes wide with despair.
But due to Nicolas Flamel influence in France many strongly questioning the ministry's decision.
In America, the MACUSA sent back a curt refusal.
"Our borders are sealed. Our citizens will be protected here."
But already, whispers were spreading among American witches and wizards that their government could not be trusted,
And small groups began vanishing, slipping away in the night toward Britain's call.
Eastern Europe fractured entirely.
Some Ministries were loyal to the old secrecy pacts, unwilling to bring in muggle families.
Others quietly sent their people toward Britain, knowing that staying meant slaughter.
The roads to Britain swelled with hidden caravans of desperate wizards, witches,
And bewildered muggles who had no idea what storm was descending upon them.
And in Asia, the response was mixed.
Japan's Ministry followed Britain's advice to the letter, citing their history of yokai alliances.
China hesitated, demanding proof of Britain's claims.
India allowed crossings—
But only for magical citizens, not their muggle relatives, sparking fury and heartbreak.
After some hesitation they allowed the muggle relatives to enter.
Back in Britain, the reports reached Minister Jenkins in rapid succession.
In Minister's Tent...
She stood at the long oak table in the war room, parchment after parchment arriving in a flurry of enchanted sparks.
"Some obey,"
She said grimly, passing the scrolls to Leo.
"Others shut their doors."
Grindelwald chuckled darkly from the corner.
Chuckle~
"Good. The weak reveal themselves quickly. Britain will stand as the beacon, while the rest collapse under their own hypocrisy."
Dumbledore's eyes dimmed with sorrow.
"____"
"And those trapped across borders? Families torn apart? Children denied safety? We are breeding resentment that will fester for generations."
Leo remained silent, staring at the map glowing before them.
"____"
Red markers spread like infection across the globe where Ministries refused, green where they complied.
His fingers tapped once on the table.
"Then we make it simple,"
He said at last.
"Those who close their borders will answer to me later. For now, every resource goes to securing Britain. Summon every allied house, every free Auror, every creature who has pledged to us. If the muggles want war…"
His eyes hardened, voice dropping to iron,
"then we will remind them why they feared the dark."
As the war council's murmurs carried through the tent,
Leo's gaze lingered on the glowing world map.
Red and green markers blinked like dying embers—
But his focus was suddenly shattered by a sharp ding echoing in his mind.
[DING...]
[System Notification]
[Thunderbird Egg has been baptized by the Magic Surge Wave.]
[Condition: Ready to hatch.]
[Take the egg out of inventory to begin the hatching process.]
Leo's brows furrowed.
Frown~
"____"
A Thunderbird…
The legendary storm-bringer, said to sense danger before it struck, a creature whose very wings could shape weather itself.
The timing was no coincidence.
He leaned back slightly, muttering under his breath so only he could hear.
"So, You finally decided to hatch, huh..."
Grindelwald, noticing the flicker of distraction in Leo's expression, raised a brow.
"Something amusing, Morningstar?"
Leo only offered a thin smile.
"Just an… omen, perhaps."
His hand brushed across his coat pocket as if reaching for something that wasn't there—
The egg safe in his inventory, thrumming with growing energy like a storm waiting to break free.
He stood abruptly, drawing the eyes of Jenkins, Dumbledore, and Flamel.
"Follow me... just a moment,"
He said calmly.
"There's something that requires my immediate attention."
Without waiting for their reply,
Leo strode out of the war tent while others followed him.
The night air was cool, but above him, the aurora clouds from the Magic Surge still rippled faintly, streaked with arcs of silent lightning.
Finding a quiet clearing beyond the wards, he finally extended his hand.
"Inventory. Thunderbird Egg."
Light shimmered—
And a massive, opalescent egg materialized before him.
Veins of blue lightning pulsed across its shell, alive with raw, untamed energy.
The ground itself vibrated as faint cracks began spreading along its surface.
Crack~ Crack~
Leo knelt, placing a steadying hand on the shell.
"Come then,"
He whispered, almost reverently.
"The world is about to burn. Let's see the storm you'll bring."
The egg shuddered, lightning arcing from its cracks into the air—
Like the first warning rumbles of a tempest ready to unleash itself.
The shell trembled violently, golden cracks spiderwebbing across its surface.
Sparks of static danced in the air, making the hair of those nearby stand on end.
Crack… crack…
A piece of the shimmering shell slid off and fell into Leo's palm.
He held it carefully, his eyes glinting as he addressed the others who had gathered—
Minister Jenkins, Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Nicolas Flamel.
"This…"
Leo's voice carried quiet awe,
"Is the first life born after the Magic Wave. A sign that the world has changed—perhaps not for the worse, but for the beginning of something new."
The egg gave a sharp pop, and from the opening emerged a tiny head.
"____"
Feathers of soft azure shimmered with faint arcs of electricity, and two enormous eyes—
Clear, curious, innocent—
Blinked up at the assembly of legendary wizards.
For a moment, the clearing fell silent.
"____"
"____"
"____"
Even Grindelwald, who had promised violence in his speech, leaned closer with rare intrigue.
Dumbledore's usual calm smile softened, his eyes twinkling as if he were watching a miracle.
Jenkins pressed a hand to her lips, unable to hide the quiet gasp that escaped her.
Nicolas Flamel simply murmured,
"Magnificent…"
His ancient gaze reflecting wonder.
The chick chirped—
High, clear, almost musical.
A spark of harmless static jumped from its tiny beak and fizzled in the air.
Despite its size, despite its fragility, the creature radiated the same untamed energy of a storm held in the palm of one's hand.
Leo crouched closer, his tone firm yet gentle.
"Welcome, little one. You are the first storm of a new age."
The Thunderbird chick tilted its head, meeting Leo's gaze as if it recognized his words.
Then, with a surprising boldness, it wriggled free from the shell and stumbled forward—
Straight into his waiting hands.
The legends of old had spoken of Thunderbirds choosing their riders.
And in that moment, before the watching eyes of some of the greatest figures in wizarding history, it had chosen.
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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.