While we were busy studying, pacifying the elementals in the castle, every day was either spent playing with fun things or searching for more fun things... And then there's Harry, busy with the future of the wizarding world, making decisions that could affect countless ordinary wizards... Ha...
Hermione suddenly grew despondent, staring blankly at the ceiling above. Then, without a word, she packed her things into her bag and left alone, leaving only a forlorn silhouette behind.
"...Aren't you going to follow her?" George asked, turning to Ron and Neville. "I thought she could use some comfort right now."
"Oh, Hermione probably does need some comforting, but definitely not from us," Ron said with a casual shrug. "Don't worry about it. Neville and I are used to it. She's been like this for a while now."
"Hermione, she doesn't mean any harm, Fred, George," Neville stammered, trying to explain. "She just wants to help Harry so badly."
"Don't worry, you little rascals," George said, ruffling his younger brother's hair without a care. "Who do you think we are? We're the big-hearted Weasley brothers! Of course we wouldn't fuss over something so trivial—seriously, though, why don't you just write to Harry?"
"Write to him?" Ron scratched his head. "It's not like we can't... but isn't Harry busy?"
"What George means is that Harry could write to cheer Hermione up, you dimwit," Fred said with a grin. "In the state Hermione's in, I reckon only Harry could get through to her."
"Brilliant idea!" Ron's eyes lit up.
Meanwhile, unaware of the events unfolding at Hogwarts, Harry was still bustling across the world, constantly traveling to regions where elementals were more active, much like the areas around Hogwarts.
The situation was unraveling far faster than he and Dumbledore had anticipated. Muggles had become distinctly aware of the existence of elementals, to the point that even while grabbing a meal at a roadside diner, Harry would see news broadcasts on the telly endlessly reporting on these bizarre new phenomena.
Well, they weren't exactly new phenomena, but just as they troubled wizards, Muggles were equally disturbed by familiar objects around them suddenly coming to life, even attempting to communicate in some unknown tongue.
Even though wizards worldwide had temporarily banded together, working tirelessly to keep the existence of elementals hidden from Muggles, the numbers just didn't add up. Compared to the sheer volume of Muggles, wizards were far too few.
Against the overwhelming number of Muggle eyes, wizards couldn't possibly conceal the elementals. Some had even proposed extreme measures, like referencing the 1962 incident in the American wizarding world, where an entire city's Muggle population forgot about magic after rainfall laced with the venom of a Swooping Evil.
But such drastic measures were ultimately rejected. For one, even if Muggles temporarily forgot about elementals under the influence of Swooping Evil venom, the constant emergence of new elementals would eventually draw their attention again. Surely they couldn't keep dosing Muggles with memory-erasing rain every day?
The other reason was that times had changed. Muggles now had far more ways to spread information. A single rain couldn't erase everything like it might have decades ago.
For wizards, the only silver lining was that ordinary Muggles still hadn't discovered the existence of the wizarding world. To them, the world had simply undergone a strange change—objects in their storage rooms suddenly coming to life, or tiny creatures scampering and hopping about their homes.
This was indeed astonishing and caused widespread panic and concern among Muggles. Many feared their houses might suddenly animate and crush them, or that some other catastrophe might occur. In short, Muggle society was in utter chaos.
If things continued this way, Muggles were bound to discover the wizarding world eventually. After all, it had already been confirmed that some pure Muggles had become shaman priests. Harry's earlier predictions were coming true.
Even without other methods, through mere communication with elementals, these Muggle shamans would eventually learn of the wizarding world's existence. Ministries of Magic worldwide couldn't possibly allow these Muggles, now wielding tangible power, to run amok unchecked.
Ordinary people suddenly gaining immense power was a recipe for disaster. Muggle government officials had already sent numerous urgent signals to the Ministries of Magic, and Aurors had been dispatched, detaining many Muggle shamans who fancied themselves future rulers of the world.
As for the rest... superpowers, qi gong, magic—these Muggle shamans who had suddenly gained elemental powers came up with all sorts of claims.
Some even believed themselves to be the chosen ones, the second coming of Jesus, destined creators meant to guide the new world. In short, the entire world was in complete disarray!
Muggle government leaders had even issued notices to the Ministries of Magic, stating that to maintain stability, they could no longer help conceal the wizarding world's existence. They needed to categorize these mysterious elementals under magic—whether by letting scientists study them or having wizards deal with them—but an official explanation was necessary. Muggle shamans who had gained sudden power needed to know they weren't unique and that someone could still hold them accountable.
As for the Ministries of Magic... it was hard to say whether they or the Muggle governments were busier at this point.
Because, in this moment when chaos had quietly engulfed the entire world, a man stepped forward silently once more.
He had once gathered followers, wielded immense magical power and influence, and harbored grand ambitions. His methods were ruthless, earning him the title of Dark Lord, a master of dark magic. Shunned by ordinary wizards and ultimately defeated, yes, he was none other than Gellert—Grindelwald.
Grindelwald was out of prison.
Or rather, Grindelwald had merely been imprisoning himself. Disillusioned, he had abandoned his former ideals, locking himself away in Nurmengard, Austria—the former stronghold of his pure-blood supremacist movement, his old lair.
But now, he was no longer confined.
He was free.
Not only was he free, but Grindelwald had also delivered a public speech, effortlessly defeating the German Ministry's Aurors who came for him before Disapparating.
"...My poor brethren, trapped in the shadows, look here... If your loved ones were ever punished for revealing magic in front of Muggles, if they were forced to suppress themselves under Muggle oppression, turning into Obscurials, if you were forced to part with those you love, even having to wipe their memories yourself, then look here..."
"The world has changed."
"Since the International Statute of Secrecy took effect in 1689, we've vanished from the world, like vermin, unable to appear openly anywhere, forced to hide our every action, with violators facing deadly consequences."
"Yes, some Ministries of Magic have even enacted laughable laws—like the Muggle Protection Act, ha!"
"So I ask you, this so-called Muggle Protection Act, this International Statute of Secrecy—who do they truly protect? Muggles or wizards?"
"There has never been a rule in this world where the strong must hide while the weak roam freely in the sunlight. The answer is simpler than you think, and deep down, you've always known it—you just haven't wanted to accept it."
"You see yourselves as strong, above Muggles, believing they need protection—but look at the world now. Do Muggles really need protection?"
An elderly man with white hair stood atop the most prominent statue in a plaza, surrounded by wizards and even a few bewildered Muggles who had somehow stumbled in, too frightened to speak or reveal their oddity.
"So, this is Grindelwald?" Harry turned to Dumbledore beside him. "Your old flame?"
"Ahem, Harry, you may have some misconceptions about us," Dumbledore coughed a few times. "Let's keep listening. I don't agree with his rhetoric, but I must admit, Gellert has always had a certain... persuasive charm."
"Persuaded your heart, did he?" Harry said with an exasperated look. "And he's not exactly wrong, is he? He's just stating the truth. Is that what you call persuasive?"
"I'm not surprised you feel that way, Harry. You two are quite alike in many ways," Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Let's keep watching. This memory isn't over yet."
Harry and Dumbledore weren't in the real world at this moment—they were inside a memory viewed through a Pensieve, belonging to a wizard who had witnessed Grindelwald's return.
"...Shaman priests, I must admit, are indeed a legacy distinct from wizards, a new form of magic. Many may not yet realize its true significance—it opens a new path, one that allows even ordinary Muggles to wield magic."
"...What does this mean? It means wizards are no longer special. I am no longer special. You are no longer special—and it means an unprecedented war is coming."
"This is not fearmongering but a foretelling, a future that will come to pass."
"Muggles have their technology, wizards have our magic. But now, Muggles possess both their world-destroying bombs and powerful magic. So tell me, how are wizards to bridge that gap?"
"Those brutal, savage Muggles, capable of slaughtering thousands of their own kind—what kind of attitude will they have toward wizards?"
"..."
"So rise up, while we still hold the advantage, while the Statute of Secrecy no longer holds, while Muggles are still unaccustomed to this new world..."
"The truly noble shall rule all. If wizards refuse to become slaves to Muggles again, if we refuse to be hunted as heretics like in the Middle Ages, burned by flames, or destroyed by guns and bombs, then rise up—you still have your wands, don't you?"
"Let everything return to its rightful place. Let magic no longer be a secret. Let wizards no longer hide. Let our children walk openly in the sunlight, no longer seen as monsters or freaks!"
"I have seen a prophecy—"
Grindelwald, his white hair flowing, spoke calmly. He took a deep breath, pressed his wand to his throat, and exhaled slowly. Wisps of pale blue smoke poured out, vibrant and rolling like clouds, soon covering the entire plaza's sky before transforming into vivid images.
The first scene was an explosion that seemed to obliterate an entire city. Screaming fire and air elementals surged through the flames, their joy or panic evident even to wizards unfamiliar with elemental forms.
But there were countless more elementals. From the sea, a giant rose, striding forward, a walking tsunami that eclipsed a glittering city.
The scene shifted. Volleys of spell orbs flew through the air, followed by fireballs and molten lava. Undoubtedly, this was war, its oppressive force causing many timid wizards in the plaza to scream in panic.
Grindelwald continued revealing his visions.
The images leapt to another level. Armored warhorses, their exposed flesh replaced by stark white bones, carried knights wielding blue-glowing swords, charging in formation.
Then came hulking stone creatures wreathed in vibrant green flames, spiked and clawed, embodying the very image of "demons" from both wizarding and Muggle mythologies.
They appeared in hordes, battling in war after war.
Grindelwald was unveiling the future—a future so grim it drained the color from Harry's face.
No one knew better than he what these things were.
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