London
Year: 2045
7:08 am
Maxwell Smith pushed through the busy muggle street, bumping into shoulders as he hurried to get to the Ministry of Magic.
"Excuse me." He muttered, "I'm late for work."
The little wizard nodded up at the muggles who completely ignored him. As he moved through the crowd, he noticed they had stopped moving. Max looked curiously around as every muggle in the city stood looking up at the sky in awe, confusion, and fear. Max followed their gaze, squinting up at the sky as a dragon-shaped fire hovered in the air, its wings spread out so far, it nearly covered the entire city. Maxwell's eyes widened at sight of the fiendfyre above him, dropping his briefcase. It was much larger than it should be.
He looked around, farther in the distance as there appeared to be one dragon-shaped fiendfyre over each city. Time appeared to have stopped, suspended on the next few moments as the city held it's breath.
Then he spotted him, an older wizard with glasses. He recognized him instantly, the wizard that was head of the Auror department.
Harry Potter stood with his wand pointed at the sky, immobile.
Max rushed over to him, eager to know what was going on. Then he slowed his pace as he got closer. There was a wild look in Harry's eyes, a pleading gaze that almost made him look mad. Harry Potter's entire body shook as if he were fighting against an unseen force that took all his strength.
"Are you all right?" Max asked.
Harry whispered something and Max had to lean forward to hear better. "Sorry, what?"
"R... run," Harry warned.
Every fiendfyre took a nose dive at the city street, moving together in unison and exploding on impact.
Each explosion had the power of a nuclear bomb.
That's how the war started.