The young professor gazed out at the rolling waves of grass, the setting sun casting a dazzling glow. He squinted slightly, his breathing slow and steady, before his lips parted to softly murmur, "Protego."
Last Christmas, he'd begun experimenting with combining the Shield Charm and the Bubble-Head Charm, seeking advice from Professor Flitwick and Headmaster Dumbledore. As his magical strength grew, the spell started to take shape. At first, it could barely shield his entire body—enough to fend off Quirrell's attacks or Norbert's dragonfire. Gradually, he'd refined it to extend the protective bubble to cover those around him.
With the spread of the Shadow Mirror across the British Isles, his magical power had surged. Now, the invisible, colorless shield bubble was his most formidable defensive spell. Initially, it could only block attacks passively, but as its range expanded, new possibilities emerged.
An unbreakable defense could, in some ways, double as an unstoppable offense.
Melvin spread his arms wide, and a torrent of raw magical energy poured out.
For a fleeting moment, the swaying grass seemed to freeze. The black dragon soaring overhead sensed something radiating from the wizard below, spreading outward to form a transparent, elliptical bubble that enveloped the area.
The howling wind paused, then roared back with even greater force, rippling through the meadow. The invisible barrier stretched across half the field horizontally and reached hundreds of feet into the sky vertically.
It sealed off the mountain's edge like an iron curtain.
"…"
The wind whipped Christine's long hair, her robes fluttering wildly. She faintly sensed a subtle pulse of magic, but the dragon's gusts and the urgency of the escaping dark wizards left no time to focus on it.
Like the other Aurors hastily called to the scene, Christine gripped her wand, ready to cast a Revealing Charm on a whim. Then, she witnessed a jaw-dropping sight.
Several figures on broomsticks materialized mid-flight, only to slam into the invisible wall. Their momentum halted abruptly, as if they'd been swatted down by the broad wings of a dragon. They crashed heavily onto the meadow below.
The impact echoed dully.
Back at Beauxbatons, Christine's Care of Magical Creatures professor had once described a phenomenon: Muggle technology advanced so quickly that animals couldn't adapt. In their concrete-and-steel urban jungles, birds often died crashing into transparent glass—some bloodied on impact, others plummeting to their deaths on the pavement below.
Watching from a distance, Christine found the scene eerily similar. The fleeing dark wizards were like those birds, their flesh and bone smashing against an unyielding magical barrier.
The stationed Aurors stood frozen, staring at the spectacle, their minds struggling to process it.
At the meadow's edge, a thick beam of red light shot upward, striking the soft scales of the Hebridean Black dragon's underbelly.
"Boom…"
The dragon's massive body stiffened, its wings half-spread, hovering for a few seconds before plummeting to the ground. The impact sent a gust rippling through the grass.
In the center of the dust cloud, the exhausted mother dragon's pupils dilated, fighting to stay conscious. Her nostrils twitched weakly, her gaze fixed on the sky, searching for the broom carrying her egg.
In the final moment before her eyes clouded over, she saw a young wizard step forward, gently prying the dragon egg from the broom's tail and placing it in her claws.
The dragon's mouth parted slightly, but no sound came. Driven by instinct, she curled her body protectively around the egg, her neck coiling around it, one wing draped over it like a shield. Her vibrant eyes finally lost focus, her nictitating membrane sliding shut as if a great weight had been lifted.
"…"
A faint smile crossed Melvin's face. Magical creatures were so straightforward. Even though she'd been hit by his Stunning Spell, the dragon still managed to convey genuine gratitude before slipping into unconsciousness.
Bit embarrassing, really.
The Aurors nearby snapped out of their daze, cautiously scanning the area. After a tense few minutes, they sensed no hostility from the two young wizards. The team leaders took a deep breath, lowered their wands, and approached.
"Who are you?" one asked.
"Christine Rosier, Romanian Ministry Auror," she replied crisply, gesturing to Melvin. "This is Professor Levent from Hogwarts."
Christine kept it brief, explaining they were just passing through on holiday when they noticed the commotion caused by the dragon and stepped in to help.
Melvin stood by the dragon's massive head, gazing at its sleeping face. He could see a hint of tender maternal instinct in its features. Recalling the traits of fire dragons, he tried to analyze how their magic worked within their bodies.
No breakthroughs yet, though.
Christine glanced at the young professor, a few thoughts flickering through her mind. She didn't let her colleagues disturb him, instead joining them to inspect the fallen dark wizards.
The Aurors approached cautiously, wands at the ready, suspecting someone might feign injury for an ambush. But crashing into the magical barrier at that speed had shattered their brooms—and their bones weren't nearly as sturdy. Sprawled in the dirt, they twitched faintly, shoulders limp, chests rising and falling with shallow, ragged breaths.
They were in no shape to fight.
Christine circled the scene and found a suitcase modified with an Undetectable Extension Charm.
The dragon eggs were inside. She counted them—twenty-three, including the one in the dragon's claws, all intact. As she prepared to leave, she noticed a badge on one dark wizard's collar.
Three golden loops, intricately interwoven.
"Is this…" Christine frowned. "Ilvermorny's Gordian Knot?"
…
At the Norwegian Ridgeback stronghold near the southwestern mountains, a grand bonfire celebration was underway.
The day the mother dragons rioted, dragonfire had scorched the area, melting the topsoil and rocks into lava. Once cooled, it formed a flat terrain perfect for laying out food and setting up tables and chairs.
The dragon egg theft case, which had caused such a stir, was now resolved. The Romanian wizards breathed a collective sigh of relief, clinking glasses and laughing heartily.
The bonfires roared to life, and the night camp buzzed with energy.
The guests split into several circles around different fires:
Some were dragon keepers, huddled together discussing how to soothe the mother dragons and prepare for egg hatching. Charlie volunteered to look after a Swedish Short-Snout.
Others were the Aurors brought in to help, now relaxed and enjoying grilled meat while poking fun at their temporarily suspended colleagues.
"The director had us stake out the valley, but those dark wizards broke through from the meadow!" one Auror said, still shaken. His colleagues chimed in eagerly.
"And they used dragon eggs to lure a Hebridean Black!"
"If it had reached a Muggle city, that'd be a major breach of the Statute of Secrecy!"
"Good thing Professor Levent was there…" a Romanian Auror said proudly, puffing out his chest. He was a Hogwarts graduate, after all.
"And Rosier!" another added, grinning mischievously. "Those guys thought they'd get a break after being suspended, but now they're swamped!"
"Up all night taking statements and writing reports. They can't even join the bonfire party."
"Haha…"
Around the central bonfires, high-ranking Romanian Ministry officials mingled with guests, wine glasses in hand, exchanging toasts and smiles.
The star of the evening was Professor Levent from Hogwarts. He'd stepped in twice—first to subdue a dozen rampaging dragons, then to apprehend a group of fleeing thieves.
Most importantly, he'd saved Romania millions of Galleons in losses.
Melvin stood at the heart of the celebration, staring absently into the vibrant, multicolored flames of the bonfire, his brandy glass gently swaying in his hand.
Adult parties were such a chore—endless small talk and superficial networking. He'd only nibbled a few pieces of meat at the start, and his stomach was still grumbling.
He missed Hogwarts feasts.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted several elegantly dressed figures approaching. He straightened up, lips curving into the practiced smile of a Hogwarts professor.
"Professor Levent! Let me introduce you!"
Vogel was even warmer than their last meeting, his smile beaming with sincerity. He gestured to a group of middle-aged wizards in old-fashioned suits. "This is Minister Iliescu, head of the Romanian Ministry. This is Constantine, Director of Magical Law Enforcement, and Ceaușescu from the Department of Magical Transportation…"
"Pleasure to meet you all," Melvin said, his smile perfectly polite.
The young professor, with his dark hair, dark eyes, and striking looks, wielded magic of astonishing power and carried himself with a warm, approachable demeanor. Backed by the greatest wizard of the century and having saved Romania a fortune, it was hard not to like him.
The Ministry officials' smiles grew even brighter, showering him with praise as if it cost nothing, their words hinting they'd love to keep him in Romania.
"Professor Levent, you're the brightest flame at this bonfire—no, the brightest star in the sky!"
"I only lent a small hand," Melvin replied smoothly. "I just hope the mountains reopen soon so I can explore the world's most famous dragon sanctuary."
"Professor Levent, from today, you're the Romanian Ministry's most honored guest! We're already preparing to nominate you for this year's Order of Merlin—Second Class, no, First Class!"
"Thank you, but more than a guest, I'd love to be a close friend of the Romanian Ministry."
"…"
The atmosphere was warm and convivial. After a few rounds of pleasantries, Melvin took a sip of brandy, his smile softening. "Gentlemen, I have a business proposition that could use your help…"
The middle-aged wizards, their eyes reflecting the flickering bonfire, were no strangers to opportunity. As Ministry higher-ups, they were better informed than most. Several had ties to tavern businesses and had heard of the Shadow Mirror's reputation last year through Budapest's attempts to connect with the Mirror Club.
After Melvin's detailed pitch, their understanding of the venture deepened. It required only minor adjustments to the Floo Network from the Transportation Department—no real effort or resources, and no harm to the Ministry or the dragon reserve's interests.
A purchase price of a few thousand Galleons, recouped in six months, with pure profit after that.
Minister Iliescu's smile was radiant. "As you said, Professor Levent, we're close friends. For a legitimate business like the Shadow Mirror, why would we stand in the way?"
"To our friendship!"
"Ceaușescu, make the Floo Network adjustments for the professor as soon as possible."
"Consider it done."
…
Past 11 p.m., Melvin returned to his hotel in Budapest.
Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn's snoring duet was already in full swing. Hagrid took lead vocals, with the old professor providing harmony. The snores were heavier than the past few nights—probably from the exhausting teaching duties earlier.
Melvin chuckled to himself, tidying his things before heading to the bathroom to wash up, his mind replaying the evening's conversations.
The Romanian Ministry was nothing like the British one. Everyone here was driven by clear, practical interests—no meddling toads like Umbridge, no obsession with the fine print of the Statute of Secrecy. Things moved fast. A few sentences, and deals were sealed.
He'd secured several Shadow Mirror orders on the spot.
The wizard from the Transportation Department had promised to adjust Romania's entire Floo Network whenever Professor Levent needed, with the Ministry covering the cost of materials.
Everything had gone smoother than expected.
Now this is how a Ministry should work!
Melvin exhaled, slipping into the hotel's provided pajamas.
The snoring outside rose and fell like a tide. Not quite ready for sleep, he settled by the window, pulling out a quill, ink, and parchment. Dipping the quill, he began writing to Wright.
The quill scratched softly against the parchment, the scent of ink filling the air.
He briefly recounted the dragon egg case, praising the Romanian Ministry's efficiency and flexibility. He urged Wright to prepare Shadow Mirror materials and come quickly—small-scale mirrors and Floo Network plans could start now.
After ten minutes, Melvin reviewed the letter, slipped it into a sturdy envelope, and wrote on the front: "To Mr. Wright Monkstanley, Charing Cross Road, London – Electrical Repair Shop."
The wizard hotel offered owl post services. The letter would go out in the morning, and with owl delivery speeds, plus time for Wright to gather supplies, he'd likely arrive by next week.
Melvin planned to give him a communication journal bookmark with a portrait imprint for easier contact.
Electronic mail would be ideal, but there was no way to popularize it among wizards yet.
"Pop…"
A faint tremor of air came from the hallway, accompanied by a ripple of magical energy—Apparition.
Melvin's expression turned curious. Vinda and Abernathy meeting in the dead of night again? Hard not to let your mind wander…
Announcement : Starting today
please vote power stone!
please vote power stone!!
please vote power stone!!!
Important things must be said three times.
dont forget to become mypa**eon member
ilham20 / 3$