Yo,
I'm back with the Next Chapter of Broken Shackles.The story was voted as the main story of focus this month and so you'll get 6 chapters this month.
Next 3 chapters of Broken Shackles (1 exclusive chapter) are available on my pa#tron page. If you like to stay ahead, you can find them there.
Link - patron / blackinfinity1289
Before we dive into our newest chap, there is one thing I like to share-
I've made a new discord server where I'll keep on updating sneak peeks of the chapters, character designs, polls and where you can freely talk and ask things regarding my fics directly from me. I'm most active there.
It's a relatively new server, so please show some love!
Link: discord . Gg / SPsSwAcq4b
Remove the spaces.
Name: Black Dawn
Without further ado, let's get started.
Enjoy.
Broken Shackles
Chapter 41
Defying Expectations
21st July 1994
Grand Chamber, Beijing
Madam Jing Wei gracefully gestured to Minister Cornelius Fudge, signalling the commencement of the British representative's address. Fudge cleared his throat and rose, the weight of the chamber's attention pressing upon him.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and esteemed representatives from magical communities across the globe," he began, his voice echoing throughout the chamber, "I stand before you today not just as the representative of the British Magical Community but as a testament to the evolving, yet occasionally flawed, nature of our justice systems worldwide."
There was a brief pause, the delegates shifting in their seats, unsure of where Fudge was headed.
"Recent events surrounding the trial of Sirius Black have thrown our Ministry into the spotlight, but I wish to assure everyone that the British Ministry of Magic has taken decisive steps to rectify our oversights."
Fudge looked directly at Dumbledore, his expression a mix of defiance and desperation. "While we have embarked on a rigorous internal review to better our systems, I'd like to underscore a larger concern plaguing our global magical community."
The room grew more silent if that was possible, the air charged with anticipation.
"We have observed," Fudge continued, voice steady, "a marked increase in Dark magic practices and the trafficking of cursed artefacts, not just within Britain, but throughout the magical world. This is not an isolated issue but a collective threat."
Murmurs arose among the delegates. It is a bold claim, one that implicated many nations and is sure to ruffle feathers.
"To counter this," Fudge declared, "I propose the establishment of a unified, international body, specifically dedicated to countering Dark magic and its practitioners."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in, and then added, "While many might be quick to point fingers at our Ministry for past mistakes, I challenge each and every one of you to introspect. Can you confidently say your nation is free from the clutches of Dark magic?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with a hint of intrigue and concern, the depth of their knowledge hidden behind a calm façade.
Before anyone could respond to Fudge's controversial statements, an unexpected magical flare erupted in the centre of the chamber, drawing everyone's attention.
And with that, the room plunged into darkness.
A palpable tension gripped the chamber, the abrupt darkness muffling the delegates' gasps and whispers. The usual luminous globe hovering in the centre of the ceiling had been snuffed out, shrouding the room in a thick, impenetrable veil.
Madam Jing Wei's voice, commanding and clear, rose above the confusion. "Remain calm, everyone. Security teams, respond immediately!"
Blue and silver sparks erupted from her wand, momentarily illuminating the room and revealing an array of shocked faces. Delegates clutched their wands, many of them muttering protective charms, creating a multi-hued display of defensive magic.
Suddenly, a spotlight focused on the dais where Fudge stood. It is bright, almost blinding, and Fudge, taken off-guard, shielded his eyes with his arm. Beside him, Dumbledore stood unaffected, his calm demeanour contrasting with the British Minister's evident alarm.
A disembodied voice, deep and resonating, addressed the chamber. "Esteemed representatives of the magical community, my apologies for this dramatic entrance. I thought it fitting, given the even more dramatic claims Minister Fudge here has chosen to present."
The source of the voice remained unknown, yet it held the chamber in rapt attention.
"We all agree Dark magic is a concern," the voice continued. "However, one might argue that the failure of a single nation's justice system, resulting in the wrongful incarceration of an innocent man for over a decade, poses an equally significant threat."
Murmurs of agreement rumbled through the room.
Dumbledore, in his composed manner, spoke up, "Might we know who graces us with this address?" He knew he can take on this opponent if need be with the Elder Wand by his side.
The lights suddenly blazed back to life, dispelling the shadows and revealing a figure standing in the very heart of the chamber opposite Dumbledore. Tall, clad in deep emerald robes adorned with silver patterns reminiscent of constellations, the figure removed its hood to reveal a strikingly youthful face with sharp features and silvery-grey eyes.
"I am Valerian Nyx," he announced, bowing slightly, "representative of the League of Independent Magi."
Whispers rippled through the chamber. The League, while not affiliated with any specific nation, is known for its objective stance on international magical issues, often acting as a mediator during disputes.
Fudge, recovering his composure, eyed Valerian with thinly veiled annoyance. "Your methods are unorthodox, Mr Nyx. What is your business here?"
Before replying, Valerian bowed to Dumbledore in respect and with a nod, Dumbledore went back to his seat. As he looked up, Valerian's smile held a hint of mischief. "Why, Minister, I am here to discuss the same issues you've raised. And perhaps," his gaze shifted to the rest of the delegates, "offer an alternative perspective."
The chamber seemed to collectively hold its breath, sensing the shift in dynamics.
Fudge, ever the seasoned politician, is quick to rally. "Mr Nyx, while I welcome your contribution to our discussions, I must say your sudden appearance, and your method of doing so, is nothing short of theatrical. It's the content of our discussions that should be at the forefront, not the style of our entrances." He gestured around the room, "This is the International Confederation of Wizards, after all."
Nyx merely nodded, his expression neutral. "Duly noted, Minister. Please, continue with your points." He said with a respectful nod with a mocking tone.
The British Minister, though irritated, straightened his robes and cleared his throat. "We, in Britain, despite our recent challenges, have taken firm actions to address the rise in dark activities. For instance," Fudge said, puffing out his chest with a touch of pride, "we've tightened restrictions on the trade of dark artefacts, with heavy penalties imposed on those found guilty."
Nyx listened attentively, his fingers stroking his chin thoughtfully, still standing opposite Fudge. When Fudge finished, the young representative replied, "While your actions on dark artefacts are commendable, Minister, they fail to address the root of the problem. Restrictions are merely reactive. Instead, why hasn't the British Ministry taken steps towards understanding why there's an increased demand for such artefacts in the first place and by whom?"
Fudge's face reddened slightly, clearly caught off guard by Nyx's counter. "We are... in the process of commissioning studies on those very subjects."
Nyx raised an eyebrow, "And yet, Minister, your Ministry is swift in trying to pass legislation against werewolves, trying to isolate them from the rest of the wizarding community. Instead of understanding their plight and working towards an integrative approach, you've chosen to ostracise them further."
The murmurs in the room grew louder, the representatives from various countries exchanging glances and nodding in agreement with Nyx's point.
Fudge's voice rose in defence, "Werewolf attacks have increased over the past year, Mr Nyx. It's our duty to protect our citizens!"
Nyx coolly retorted, "And yet, if they had been given the proper resources, accepted and not marginalised, perhaps those attacks could've been prevented. Isolation breeds resentment, Minister."
Dumbledore, watching the exchange with a calm demeanour, could sense the tide turning against Fudge. The British Minister, despite his many years in politics, seemed ill-prepared to handle the incisive arguments posed by the young representative of the League of Independent Magi.
Fudge's mind raced as he tried to regain control of the narrative. Each point he made, every bit of rhetoric he leaned into, is masterfully deflected or countered by Nyx. The weight of his Ministerial position, which once filled him with pride and power, now seemed a heavy mantle that threatened to smother him.
'How did I get here?' Fudge thought bitterly. 'I thought this would be a simple, straightforward session to reclaim some semblance of respect and authority. Instead, I'm being publicly dismantled by a man half my age.' Memories of his earlier days in politics flashed before him — the fiery debates, the moral victories, and the public adoration. He longed for those days when challenges felt manageable, and allies were by his side.
'Lucius promised the support of his acquaintances. But where are they now?' He cast a discreet glance around the room, hoping for a sign of solidarity from any of the representatives, but is met mostly with impassive faces or barely concealed smirks.
On the other side of the room, Dumbledore sat, the twinkle in his blue eyes seemingly brighter than ever. As the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW and a figure who had navigated global magical politics for decades, Dumbledore has seen ministers rise and fall, policies change, and debates turn heated. Yet, through it all, he maintained his composed demeanour and commitment to what he believed is right.
Watching the interplay between Fudge and Nyx, Dumbledore's thoughts are a tapestry of wisdom and foresight. 'Cornelius,' he mused, 'you've always been so concerned about image and perception. But true leadership requires more than just presentation. It requires vision, understanding, and most importantly, humility.'
Dumbledore's gaze shifted to Nyx. The young representative, though unorthodox in his methods, displayed a keen insight into the underlying issues plaguing the magical world. 'He reminds me of some of my brightest students,' Dumbledore thought with a faint smile, 'those who questioned not just to rebel, but to understand.'
Yet, there is something more — a nagging feeling at the back of Dumbledore's mind. The League of Independent Magi had always been enigmatic, and while they often professed neutrality, their motivations aren't always clear.
As Fudge stammered through another response, Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in thought. The events of the day would surely ripple through the international wizarding community, but to what end? And where did the League truly stand in the shifting landscape of global magical politics?
These musings occupied his thoughts, even as the session continued. The game of politics is in motion, and as always, Dumbledore is several moves ahead, contemplating not just the current play but the endgame.
Madam Jing Wei, sensing the escalating tension between Fudge and Nyx, stood up, her commanding presence filling the room. She raised a hand, and the ornate chamber instantly grew silent. The light played off her elegant robes, casting a glow that seemed to accentuate her authority.
"Esteemed members," she began, her voice steady and resonant, "it is essential that we remember the purpose of this summit. We are here to discuss, deliberate, and make decisions for the betterment of the international magical community. Personal disagreements, however heated, should not overshadow our shared goals."
She directed her gaze at Minister Fudge and Valerian Nyx in turn. "Minister Fudge, Mr Nyx, I understand that both of you hold strong views and have significant concerns. However, I urge you to set aside personal grievances and think of the larger picture."
Nyx inclined his head, a graceful acknowledgement of Madam Wei's words. "Of course, Madam Premier. My intention has never been to disrupt but to bring clarity and perspective. I am willing to move forward."
However, as Nyx settled back into his seat, he couldn't resist a parting shot. With a faint smirk, he added, "I only hope that others can also prioritise the global magical community over personal or national interests." It is a subtle dig, but one that is not lost on anyone in the chamber.
Fudge's face reddened, and he shot a glare at Nyx. He isn't one to back down, especially with his reputation on the line. "I assure you, Mr Nyx," Fudge retorted, struggling to maintain a dignified tone, "that the British Ministry always has the well-being of the entire magical world at heart. And I will continue to present our initiatives and concerns as planned."
That said, Fudge didn't have anything solid to improve his standing and so he stood there, thinking of a way to salvage his image and stature.
Meanwhile
Tonks Residence
As Fudge grappled in desperation, the atmosphere inside the Tonks residence is relaxed and cheerful. The quirky and colourful decor reflected the vibrant personalities of the family, and laughter echoed in the cosy living room. Harry lounged on a couch, surrounded by the lively Tonks family, with Sirius by his side, each enjoying a delightful story shared by Ted.
As they reminisced, Harry thought of the hive of activity over the past week. His disturbing dream, one that foreshadowed Voldemort's potential return, had filled the mood with a magical charge. Though the elders didn't know, Harry and Dora did their best to secretly prepare.
Each day, the sparring room is transformed into a makeshift training ground. The carpet, once in pristine condition, is now a tapestry of battle scars. Burn marks, potion stains, and remnants of errant spells decorated it like badges of honour.
Harry and Dora often pored over thick, ancient magical textbooks, their fingers tracing over complex spells and counterspells. Harry even started making advanced Potions to hold in reserve in case of need. They have a sizable chunk stored in the house.
Dora guided Harry through challenging shape-shifting exercises. At times, these sessions became sources of comic relief. One particular attempt saw Harry morphing into what could only be described as a teapot sporting stag antlers. Both broke into fits of laughter, a much-needed release from their intense regimen.
Beyond the physical and magical training, their bond deepened. They would often sit, draped in blankets against the evening calm, talking into the wee hours of the night. They shared their deepest fears, dreams, and hopes. It wasn't just about preparing for a threat; it was about understanding and leaning on each other.
Harry opened up on many things, his turn of Fate in 2nd year, his relationship in 3rd year and the Lordship he claimed. He even introduced Mira to Dora. That's a moment to remember. So yeah, he is trusting her with his secrets though he did leave a few things, like him being the Slytherin Lord, about Eidolon and injuring Lupin with the whole Dementor incident.
It's not like he didn't trust her. He knew they were too much for anyone to handle at once and decided to share them with Dora soon. As she opened up on everything about herself. Her childhood, growing up as a Metamorph in a muggle school, being bullied, Hogwarts life, being shunned and her career.
Harry noticed how everyone didn't ever try to understand Dora, instead of being her friend because of her abilities. He can understand why she wanted to be by his side so badly. Though they knew each other for a short time, they faced and were victorious against many odds.
Like the incidents in the Christmas holidays and even now, instead of sulking or being fearful of Voldemort's return, they are planning, Dora increasing her effort into helping him. That touched Harry. He felt differently about Dora, it's not the same as how he felt about Cho.
As Ted and Andy continued, Harry thought of taking them to the Castle. It had been a while since he had been there, and even the thought of its tall, protective walls and ancient magic made him feel safer. The castle is not just a symbol of his lineage but a sanctuary he knew Voldemort and his followers couldn't find or breach.
Moreover, though he initially thought of taking them there on his birthday, Vali's recent letter made him change plans and Harry is going to visit the Childcare Center. She wants him to spend time with the children there and meet the new kids. Harry felt deeply touched by the idea and agreed.
He turned to Dora with a mischievous grin. His mischievous grin is met with a raised eyebrow from Dora, her hair momentarily shifting to a vibrant shade of pink, reflecting her intrigue. But the twinkle in her eyes mirrored his own. She knew that Harry's spontaneity usually led to memorable moments, even if she didn't know the specifics of his plan.
"Dora," Harry began, his voice a mere whisper, careful not to break the peaceful ambience, "how about we add a bit of... excitement to this serene evening?"
Dora leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Count me in. What's brewing in that head of yours?"
As Ted and Andy joyfully relived their happy moments, Sirius not far behind, Harry leaned in, sharing his mischievous plan with Dora, her eyes widening in surprise before a grin spread across her face. "Think they'll suspect anything?" she whispered.
With a conspiratorial wink, Harry replied, "Only one way to find out."
Dora then artfully steered the conversation towards old family stories, invoking a sense of nostalgia that permeated the room. As the memories flowed, with Sirius sharing tales of pranks and adventures with James, Harry discreetly readied his magic.
And then, in the midst of a hearty laugh from Ted about a story from Dora's childhood, Harry subtly tapped his Lord Ring, spreading his match around the room. The familiar surroundings of the lounge started to shimmer and distort. The next moment, in place of the cosy room, the grand entrance of Potter Castle greeted their astonished eyes with a cool sea breeze tingling their senses.
Andromeda's mouth fell open in astonishment, while Ted looked around, trying to make sense of the sudden change in surroundings. Sirius, though taken aback by the sudden shift, grinned widely, recognizing the prank. Aka Harry's handiwork.
Meanwhile, Harry and Dora stood to the side laughing uncontrollably as they found themselves on a lone island in the vast sea out of the blue. Their laughter caught others' attention.
"Dora! Did you know about this?" Ted exclaimed a mix of surprise and delight evident in his voice.
Dora, trying to suppress her giggles, nodded. "I might have had an inkling."
Sirius clapped Harry on the back. "Well played, pup! Nothing like a little surprise trip to lift the spirits."
The facade of the grand castle, bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun, cast a warm and inviting glow. The entire family stood there, taking in the breathtaking view, the surprise only adding to the charm of the moment.
Harry's eyes met Dora's, and they shared a quiet moment of triumph. Their spontaneous plan had worked, and the promise of a beautiful evening at the Potter Castle awaited them.
As the group stood absorbing the sight of the grand Potter Castle, Ted turned to Harry, a contemplative look on his face. "You know, Harry, it's amazing to see how far Sirius has come over the past weeks, all things considered."
Indeed, the transformation in Sirius is evident. Since his trial and release, there has been a pronounced change in him. The gauntness that had once marred his features has gradually faded, replaced by a more robust and healthy appearance. But more than the physical transformation, it is his spirit that has truly rejuvenated.
The shadows that had once lurked in his eyes seemed to dissipate with each passing day, replaced by the mischievous spark that Harry had read so much about from his mother's diary.
Sirius has thrown himself into a routine, often sparring with Harry and Dora, teaching them advanced duelling techniques, and reminiscing about the Marauders' escapades. He is doing his best to recover and make up for lost time.
However, there were nights when Sirius would mysteriously disappear. Harry had noticed it on more than one occasion. The Marauder would cast furtive glances, ensuring no one was watching, before slipping into the shadows. While Harry had his suspicions about where his godfather might be headed, he chose to keep his thoughts to himself for the time being, trusting Sirius's judgement.
Andromeda, picking up on Ted's observation, added, "It's heartening to see Sirius regain his spirit. The laughter, the tales, the duelling sessions; it feels like he's truly back with us."
Sirius, overhearing the conversation, chuckled. "Well, I had to get back in shape, shouldn't I? Can't let you have all the fun."
Dora playfully punched his arm. "Especially when you sneak out at night. Care to share where you wander off to, Mr Mysterious?"
Sirius winked, a sly grin forming on his face. "Ah, some tales are better left untold, lil Dora."
Harry watched the exchange, the suspicion about Sirius's nightly escapades lingering at the back of his mind. However, the immediate joy of being with family in such a setting pushed those thoughts temporarily aside.
The sun setting behind the castle bathed the surroundings in a warm, golden light, making the moment even more magical.
"So Harry, care to explain where we are and what's this?" Sirius asked with a proud smile, his eyes almost tearing at the efficiency and effectiveness of the prank.
With a sweeping gesture encompassing the grandeur of their surroundings, Harry announced, "Welcome to Potter Castle, the ancestral home of the Potter family. It's nestled on the southern coast of England and has stood as a bastion for our lineage for centuries. Consider this our ultimate sanctuary."
The awe is palpable among the Tonks couple and Sirius, their eyes darting around, trying to take in every exquisite detail of the castle's architecture. Dora happily smiling standing beside Harry.
"The castle," Harry continued, "is surrounded by layers of protective enchantments, some of the most potent in the wizarding world. They ensure utmost safety. Only those I trust, which means all of you here, can access this place. Should danger ever loom, know that this refuge is here for you."
As Harry concluded his introduction, a soft popping sound echoed through the vast entrance hall. Twinkly, the castle's dedicated house elf, appeared bearing trays of mouth-watering dishes that emitted tantalising aromas.
"Master Harry," Twinkly squeaked happily, "I've prepared a feast in honour of our esteemed guests!"
The grand dining table, previously unseen, now stood resplendent, set with elegant silverware and fine china. The family moved towards it, their earlier astonishment now mingling with appreciation and the comforting allure of a shared meal.
As they settled into their seats, plates were magically filled with delectable dishes. The evening that began with surprise transformed into one of warmth and camaraderie. Between bites of the delicious food, they laughed, toasted on their unexpected journey, and shared stories that only deepened their bonds. The grandeur of Potter Castle played backdrop to the simple joys of a family dinner, with Harry's surprise turning the evening into a cherished memory for all.
Scene Break
Grand Chamber, Beijing
Back in the Grand Chamber, Fudge's mind raced as he grappled with the unfolding situation. In the space of mere moments, he has been backed into a corner, the weight of international eyes upon him. His reputation and that of the British Ministry are on the line. The sharp taunts from Nyx did nothing but add fuel to the fire of his desperation.
His mind drifted back to his early days as Minister, the promises he made, the dreams he held, and the allies he'd won. Those days seemed so distant now, almost another lifetime. In the depth of his thoughts, Fudge felt a gripping sensation. Is this the end of his political career? Would he be known as the Minister who faltered at the International Confederation?
Suddenly, a thought struck him. Magical Oaths. They are powerful, and binding, and showcase commitment in their rawest form. A public demonstration of such a pledge could potentially shift the narrative in his favour. It would show him as a Minister who is not only confident in his words but is also willing to stake magical consequences on them. It is a bold move, a gamble, but the potential benefits outweighed the risks in his mind.
His mind went to Chris's words yesterday. He is sure the Oaths will give him the High Note, pushing everything aside. Though if he is in a better thinking state, he would have remembered about Harry Potter and the Golden Ticket he is. But Fudge felt so cornered, he couldn't think things through and Nyx's next words didn't give him much choice.
While Fudge is engrossed in this internal turmoil, Nyx, though seated, continued with his pointed remarks. "It's one thing to claim dedication," Nyx's voice is smooth, almost velvety, "but quite another to follow through with it."
Madam Jing Wei's patience seemed to be wearing thin. She shot Nyx a glare, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. It is a subtle gesture, but one that is filled with a silent command for decorum. Nyx, sensing the mood of the chamber and perhaps pushing his luck a bit too far, decided to quiet down. However, the knowing smirk on his face made it clear he felt he had the upper hand.
Fudge took a deep breath, deciding. "Mr Nyx," he began, his voice surprisingly steady, "I appreciate your concerns, and I am willing to put my commitment to the test. I propose to make Magical Oaths here, in front of all the esteemed representatives, that the British Ministry will not only address the issues at hand but will also ensure complete transparency and dedication to the international magical community."
The chamber erupted in whispers. This is unexpected, even radical. Magical Oaths are not taken lightly, given the severe consequences of breaking them. Fudge's audacious proposition has shifted the dynamics yet again.
The atmosphere in the chamber grew even more charged, the weight of anticipation heavy in the air. Without waiting for responses or further provocations, Fudge took a bold step forward, placing himself prominently at the forefront of the dais. The embers of desperation and determination glinted in his eyes.
Raising his wand to his temple, Fudge declared, "In front of the International Confederation of Wizards and the entire magical community, I, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic of Great Britain, make these oaths."
He took a steadying breath, his voice unwavering. "I swear on my magic that I will do my utmost to safeguard and ensure the security of the Quidditch World Cup and that all magical and protective measures will be upheld to their highest standards."
Whispers broke out. The significance of such an oath, especially on one's magic, is monumental. But then, Fudge continued, this time with even more intensity.
"I further swear on my life that the lives of all employees of the British Ministry of Magic will be protected against dark forces. None shall fall to the darkness while I stand as Minister."
Magical wisps, one silver and the other blue, manifested from Fudge's wand. One enveloped his head, and the other encased his heart, disappearing as soon as they appeared, sealing the solemn Oaths.
The room grew silent, the weight of Fudge's words pressing down upon every delegate in the chamber. The audacity of the oaths, especially the second one, left many in shock.
As the hushed murmurs resumed and the enormity of Fudge's actions began to be processed by the international community, Fudge looked over at Nyx with a defiant expression, challenging him to refute the commitment he'd just shown.
The entire chamber is taken aback. It is a bold move, and many representatives exchanged uneasy glances, wondering about the implications of such oaths.
As Fudge's voice echoed away, the chamber fell into a heavy, almost stifling silence. Every eye is fixated on him, some wide with shock, others narrow with scepticism.
Madam Jing Wei, her poised demeanour slightly shaken, blinked in astonishment. She had seen many political gambits in her tenure, but this act of Fudge is unparalleled. She wondered whether it is a stroke of genius or the reckless move of a desperate man.
While Nyx's silver eyes glittered with a mix of surprise and amusement. While his external demeanour remained calm, internally he weighed the implications of such oaths. Nyx knew well that words, especially in the form of magical oaths, bore power. He pondered how the loopholes Fudge may have left might come into play in the future. Would they be his salvation or his downfall?
The Japanese Minister Hiroshi Nakamura, a seasoned diplomat, leaned in and whispered to his aide, "Either he's incredibly brave or incredibly foolish. Perhaps both." The aide nodded, scribbling down notes, already formulating the official stance they would take.
A few seats away, the Australian Minister, Isla Macquarie, raised a delicate eyebrow. She is familiar with bluffs and bravado, given the wild magical creatures she often negotiated with back home. "He's staked it all," she mused, "It's a bold strategy. Let's see if it pays off for him."
Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, sat back, his blue eyes twinkling more intensely than ever. Of all people, he knew the intricacies of magical promises. While he may have appeared contemplative, a storm of thoughts raged within him. He wondered about Fudge's motivations and the possible repercussions of such oaths. 'Cornelius,' he thought, 'what have you truly committed to?'
Meanwhile, representatives from smaller nations looked at each other, trying to gauge their collective opinion. Such an oath had implications not just for Britain but could set a precedent for ministers worldwide. Would they be expected to make similar commitments?
While on the other side, the chamber's electric silence, punctuated by Fudge's resolute declarations, stunned many more.
Madame Moreau's sharp features remained stoic, but the very edges of her lips twitched downward in disdain. Her eyes, usually filled with sharp intelligence, now shimmered with a mix of disappointment and disbelief. 'Encore des théâtralités,' (more theatrics) she thought privately, unimpressed with Fudge's display.
Next to her, Envoy Alejandro Serrano leaned back slightly, his tall frame casting a shadow across his section of the seating. His hazel eyes, usually warm, flickered with a blend of concern and contemplation. Though patient by nature, he recognized the gravity of Fudge's words and couldn't help but think of the diverse communities he represented. 'Such grand gestures,' he mused, 'but will he uphold them when the time comes?'
From India, the colourful entourage, radiant in their magical attire, watched intently. Indrajaal Mantri Ambarish Rajan, always a beacon of peace, pressed his lips together, his gaze not leaving Fudge. He respected the bravery behind the oaths but was all too aware of their implications. 'May you find the strength to honour these words,' he silently wished for Fudge, hoping that peace would prevail.
Herr Friedrich Stein of Germany adjusted his deep forest-green attire, the ancient runes sewn into the fabric gleaming faintly. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. Fudge's declarations resonated with him, reminding him of Germany's deep-rooted history in magic and the weight of promises. 'Words etched in the heart,' he contemplated, 'can be as binding as the runes of old.'
Russia's delegates, draped in their luxurious fur-lined cloaks, exchanged glances. Madame Natalia Ivanova, ever the symbol of Russian strength, allowed herself a brief sigh. Her thoughts travelled back to her homeland's vast expanses, the bear emblem on her cloak a testament to the nation's fierce resilience. 'Promises in the face of adversity,' she pondered, 'are as challenging as the harshest Siberian winter.'
As the chamber continued to process Fudge's oaths, it became evident that the Minister's words would ripple across continents, touching every corner of the magical world. The future, uncertain and shadowed, awaited them all.
As the weight of the moment began to settle, the chamber burst into whispers, with everyone eager to discuss, dissect, and deliberate on the ramifications of Fudge's daring move. While the British Minister looked satisfied.
With the cacophony of voices rising in the chamber, Madam Jing Wei took a deep breath and raised her hand, signalling for quiet. The power and authority emanating from her is palpable, reminding everyone of her esteemed position.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she began, her voice clear and resonant, "While Minister Fudge's actions are undoubtedly momentous, we must remember the primary objective of this summit." She paused, letting her words sink in. "We have a packed agenda, addressing concerns that affect each and every one of us. It is imperative we maintain focus and decorum."
She glanced at Valerian Nyx and Cornelius Fudge, again, her gaze sharp yet composed. "The matters of individual nations, while significant, cannot overshadow the collective interests of the magical community. We will continue with our scheduled topics. Minister Fudge's oaths will be discussed and analysed in due course."
There is a muted shuffling as the representatives, some still exchanging incredulous glances and whispered comments, slowly turned serious, ready to start the discussions.
Madam Jing Wei gestured to an assistant near the podium. "Please proceed with the next item on the agenda."
The assistant nodded and began reading, "Review and deliberation on the Werewolf Code of Conduct..."
As the session transitioned into the next topic, the tension in the room slowly ebbed, replaced by the familiar rhythm of the summit proceedings. However, the echoes of Fudge's bold move lingered in the back of everyone's minds, ensuring it would be the talk of many side conversations and private meetings in the days to come.
Meanwhile
Austrian Alps
In a serene corner of the Austrian Alps, the sun's rays played hide and seek through the dense foliage, casting whimsical patterns on the forest floor. Mid-July had turned the woodland into a symphony of nature's sounds. But beneath this tranquil facade, events were unfolding that would send shockwaves across the international magical community.
Bertha Jorkins, her characteristic frizzy hair shielded under a hat and spectacles glinting in the sunlight, treaded a path less taken. She is far from her official duties at the Ministry of Magic, driven by her insatiable curiosity. But as she ventured deeper, the soft rustling of leaves from a distance hinted she isn't alone. Mysterious shadows, like silent spectres, kept pace, never revealing themselves but watching intently.
Drawn to an ancient obelisk covered in arcane runes, Bertha paused, squinting and muttering translations. So engrossed was she in the enigma before her that she failed to sense the unnatural cold creeping in or the thickening mist enveloping the clearing.
A voice, cold and disembodied, cut through the silence. "Let's find a better use for you." Panic gripped her as she drew her wand, desperately seeking the source. The mist, now glowing an eerie purple, closed in on her, and then, as suddenly as it had appeared, vanished, taking Bertha with it. The clearing, once alive with the chirping of birds and the warmth of the sun, now lay silent and shrouded in an ominous shadow.
Bertha isn't just any employee; she held secrets, knowledge that in the wrong hands could be catastrophic. And for Fudge, the timing couldn't be worse. As he just made his oath in Beijing.
The Austrian woods had witnessed a mystery, one that marked the beginning of tumultuous events. Forces, both seen and unseen, were gathering momentum, their sights set on a world unsuspecting of the storm brewing on the horizon. And for Fudge, a thread of fate, already stretched thin, threatened to snap, sealing an unknown destiny.
And Cut.
That's it for this Chapter, folks. Hope you all liked it. Tell me, what you think of the chapter and story in general.
Any suggestions are welcomed.
Next chapter will be updated on 12th December.
I'll eagerly wait for your arrival in the Dawn!
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Name: Black Dawn
See y'all in the next chapter.
Black Infinity 1289,
Ja Ne.