In a café near one of Paris's big neighbourhoods, Amandine Zoe and her colleague came out of it after paying for their food and were surprised to see pedestrians on the street looking in unison in the direction of the south bank of the Seine.
"What are they looking at?" Her colleague asked in confusion.
Amandine tilted her head in silence, her eyes first fell on the Eiffel Tower a few kilometres away, everything was normal, nothing seemed to be happening, immediately after she caught sight of half a dozen black dots, were they some kind of birds? But she immediately dismissed the idea, two of the dots hovered motionless in mid-air, no bird could do such a thing, no?
In the blink of an eye, one of the motionless birds suddenly opened its wings - strange, Amandine thought, because it was only probing its left wing - and the next second a huge green symbol suspended high in the sky for a long time, like a frozen firework.
There were shouts of alarm heard from far away.
"It's a man!" Her colleague shouted, grabbing her arm with a death grip and saying excitedly, "Oh my God! Oh my God! Look - Amandine, is it some kind of big outdoor magic trick? Can we invite them? How did they do it? Steel wires, cables, tempered glass?"
"I don't think it's any of those." Amandine whispered.
In the few seconds they were talking, the half dozen dots suddenly scattered and swooped off in all directions very quickly. One of the black dots came right up close to them, the black dot becoming clearer and clearer, and now the two could make out the black robe he was wearing.
"What's he sitting on? Some kind of flying machine?" Someone next to them asked.
"It's a broomstick! That's the witch's sorcery!" A man with thinning hair and a scruffy look shouted.
The man who had swept over their heads seemed to have heard these words, and he turned back, hovering in mid-air, looking down on the muggles in the street below. The man's arm raised up and Amandine spotted a small wooden stick in his hand and a white light flashed.
The scruffy man with thinning hair floated uncontrollably as he shouted in panic and struggled desperately.
"It's magic!" The man sitting on the broom grumbled and laughed.
Amandine looked at it in a trance, and a vague memory came to her mind of a time when she was still at uni, and she heard a good-looking boy asking the professor in an earnest tone in open class, "What if magic did appear in reality one day?"
And now, magic has really appeared!
...
New York, United States.
François Crutoy is walking down the famous Broadway avenue, an important place for American theatre and musicals, and he has been invited to perform here, but the show is scheduled for tomorrow, so after his interview with the press, he declined the invitation of the staff and slipped out for some fresh air.
No doubt his magical experience was once again brought up for questioning, and as always he kept his mouth shut, keeping the events of that night at the 'House of Magic' in Surrey a secret to himself. But he had been gathering information on the occult for several years. His thought was that if the mysterious man who had brought him back to life was not a 'deity', there must be a group of human beings with special talents in this world.
François thought over and over again that the latter was more likely since the man who had cured his arm had later appeared at his recital - a real deity wouldn't be so idle, would he?
Unfortunately, he didn't get to have a word, and he wondered if the man had grasped the meaning of his compositional repertoire.
Angel of Sorrow ... Goddess of Magic ... François didn't know what the power that cured him was, it could have come from religion, or the magic of a wizard, he knew from quite a few fantasy novels that those wizards worshipped the Goddess of Magic ...
Unbeknownst to him, he arrived in the Manhattan district and stood in front of the Woolworth Building. The local staff had pointed him in the direction of some of the more famous buildings in the neighbourhood, and apart from the familiar theatres, this skyscraper was also at the top of the list.
François had heard its name. Built at the start of the century, the Woolworth Building was extremely legendary as the tallest building in the world at the time. Even leaving aside its height, its neo-Gothic style is still highly pleasing to the eye. As he thought about it, a group of men in black formal clothes emerged from the artificial sliding doors.
François glanced at them in surprise, his previous attention was too absorbed by the magnificent revolving doors, that he had not noticed the small door. The men walked with hasty steps and grave expressions, and the man in the lead gave serious orders.
François turned his back on them while keeping his ears open, and some words drifted into his ears:
"... Wizarding World Exposure Level Anomaly ... Must have something to do with Grindelwald ... Went to England for a funeral ... got authorization from the head of security to use force if necessary ..."
Francois turned his head curiously, he seemed to have heard the word magic? A thrill ran through Francois, and he quickly followed the group, but he didn't dare to get too close, he simply stalked after them from a distance, the men turned into the gap between the two buildings, and he quickened his pace to see the last man pull a small wooden stick from his suit pocket.
A magic wand? He thought excitedly, but it seemed a lot smaller than the ones he had seen in comic books ...
Francois took a few deep breaths as he stood at the edge of the building, thinking in his head about how he should introduce himself, how about starting with "I know a friend who knows magic"? When he felt ready, he rushed into the shadows.
François looked around in bewilderment, the people had all disappeared and there were only a dozen bicycles lying around. He walked back and forth twice in disbelief, but nothing happened, and he once again made his way back to Broadway.
The street was swarming with people, but not even one from that group he was looking for can be found. He certainly did not know about the Apparition, let alone about the battle between wizards that would soon take place in Times Square, which is not far from here, at the corner of West 42nd Street and Broadway in Manhattan.
At the same time, at the head of the Statue of Liberty erected on Hudson's Liberty Island, an acolyte lightly twirled his wand and a sudden flame blazed from the torch held aloft in Lady Liberty's hand.
...
London, United Kingdom.
Mr. Granger was working in his dental clinic as usual, and Mrs. Granger had come over to help. They had just sent off a customer and Mrs. Granger was talking to her husband as she turned on the TV in the clinic.
"Hermione is coming back today, so we better close early." Mrs. Granger said.
"I remember that very well, I made reservations at one of your favourite restaurants." Mr. Granger said as he cleaned his hands. Suddenly Mrs. Granger let out a scream, and he rushed out in a panic, with drops of water dripping down from both hands.
"What's wrong? What's happened?"
Mrs. Granger's eyes stared fixedly at the television, unable to speak. Mr. Granger looked over at the television screen, the camera kept shaking to show only half of the head of the female reporter who was broadcasting the coverage. She had exaggerated blonde curls of hair, but all of Mr. Granger's attention was drawn to the tornado behind the reporter.
If the Houses of Parliament had not been so conspicuous in the background, he would not have realised that the disaster is wreaking havoc in London. He glanced uncertainly out of the window; the weather was surprisingly fine, and he didn't feel the slightest breeze. An urgent voice came over from the television set -
"Rita! Look, there's someone in the tornado - did you see them? Those two guys who flew past us on their broomsticks earlier?"
"I don't need you to remind me!" The female reporter shouted angrily, then she took a deep breath to calm herself before turning to the camera: "Ladies and gentlemen - although it's a bit unbelievable - there was a sudden tornado in central London, err - the cause of which is not yet clear. I'm not sure why, but perhaps the temperature difference over the last two days has been too great? I'm sure the meteorologists will give a reasonable explanation, so please don't believe the rumours - oh, Merlin's beard!"
The reporter exclaimed in a panic. But Mr. Granger couldn't blame her for speaking out of turn, anyone would have been horrified at the sight - a young man suddenly squeezed out of the air and the camera went black for a moment, all the Grangers could hear were sounds.
"Hey, be careful, do you need help?"
A few seconds later, the screen returned to normal and the young man who had suddenly appeared reached out to help them hold the camera straight, and with a big smile on his face: "Are you journalists? I think you are? I'm available for interviews - allow me to introduce myself, I'm a wizard, a graduate of the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and wizardry, I created the tornado behind me - my companion also made some contributions, and we learned about combination magic at school --"
Rita Skeeter was dumbfounded, as were the Granger's in front of the television, and those audiences who happened to be in front of the television were also equally dumbfounded.
Rita Skeeter gulped and racked her brains as she said.
"Obviously, this is an occult enthusiast, or he's not right in the head, this is the end of the interview, the tornado is approaching us, and we must evacuate as soon as possible-" She abruptly couldn't speak, her body stiffened, and she remained motionless like a stone.
Just as everyone was taken aback, the camera was forcibly turned to the other side and the young man's face took up most of the frame.
"I'm in my right mind," said the wizard who claimed to be a graduate of 'Ilvermorny', "and again, I'm a wizard in my own right. We can talk - don't worry about the tornado behind me, it won't get any bigger, and don't worry about this female reporter, it is a simple Full Body-Bind Curse. Huh? She looks pissed off. ..."
The next ten minutes were completely reduced to his personal showtime. Thanks to him, a lot of the British public knew for the first time what a wizard is, what a statute of secrecy is, and a whole list of magical terms such as Grindelwald, Dumbledore, Full Body-Bind Curse, combination magic, school of witchcraft and wizardry so on.
"Personally, I think Ilvermorny is the best school of magic in the world, but the bunch of British guys I have met just today doesn't think so, oh, sorry, I forgot I'm in England now-" there was a violent coughing fit. "Objectively speaking, Hogwarts isn't that bad either ..."
In the end, he even took it upon himself to release the spell on Rita Skeeter, allowing her to ask a few questions with a stiff expression; he seemed to have a strong desire to be expressive and could probably have babbled on for hours if it hadn't been for the arrival of the police car and his companion greeting him as they left.
...
"Is it April Fool's Day, dear?" Rebecca, the redhead, asked as she stared blankly at the television.
" I would rather it is - I better flip through the calendar!" Jim said uncertainly as he rushed out.
...
Winnie Valentine hurried out of the solicitor's office and waved down for a taxi.
"Go to that very famous gold and silver jewellery and craft shop on the corner." She rushed to say without waiting for the driver to ask.
"The one with the name 'Future World'?" The driver asked.
"That's right - oh, wait," Winnie grabbed her hair and forced herself to calm down. She changed her mind, "Let's just go to King's Cross."
"As you wish."
The driver started the car.
"We might have to take a bit of a detour - there's a traffic jam up ahead, supposedly due to that rare tornado wreaking havoc and low visibility."
"Tornado, tornadoes?" Winnie stammered.
"I guess the road announcer was drunk early in the morning, how can there be a tornado in downtown." The driver said casually, "But the traffic jam should be real."
...
Grunnings, Surrey.
Vernon Dursley works as a director of sales for this company and is responsible for selling more drilling rigs. He seemed extra grumpy this morning, snapping at nine subordinates in his office in quick succession, his yelling even carried from the ninth floor to the two upper and lower floors of the building. This caused him to ignore certain out-of-place clamours in the company. After scolding the crap out of the last subordinate, making the already not-so-harmonious relations between his colleagues even worse, he closed the office door with a satisfied smile.
"Don't let anyone interrupt me, I have a few important calls to make." He yelled at his assistant.
As the noon hour approached, he got into a better mood, and after stretching his fat body in the office, he decided to go across the road to buy two doughnuts. As he walked out the front door of the office, Vernon ran into his assistant who cautiously told him that his wife had called him a while ago.
There was something vaguely unsettling about this, Petunia usually would never call him at work, but he soon figured out that it was to remind him to pick up his geeky nephew from downtown after work, and the thought of it put him in a foul mood, especially since the first thing Dudley did when he returned from holiday was not to give him his old father a hug, but to rush into his bedroom to make sure his comic books were still there. He couldn't help but be furious.
Vernon was stubbornly convinced that this was a plot by his geeky nephew to get back at them. He dropped a bag of doughnuts and a bottle of water on the counter.
"Two pounds and fifty pence." The sales clerk said.
"Two pounds and fifty pence? Why don't you go and rob it?" Vernon growled.
The shop clerk shrugged his shoulders.
Vernon paid the money as he cursed and took out a doughnut and stuffed it into his mouth, muttering under his breath as he watched the television that hung in the ceiling, "Prices are going up ... what are all the bladder worms sitting in Whitehall doing ... today five pence up, ten pence up tomorrow, what the hell is wrong with the world?" Gradually he stopped talking, seemingly fascinated by the news on the television.
He rubbed his eyes incredulously and his mouth opened exaggeratedly wide, which made his double jaw bulge even more prominently and his little eyes go straight up. Then with a yell, he rushed out of the shop, huffing and puffing, made his way back to his office, picked up his car keys, and headed back to his home.
As he drove, he kept a careful eye on the sides of the road for fear that some guy in a strange costume and cape would pop up. There seemed to be a traffic jam up ahead, and he slammed the steering wheel and honked the horn desperately. "Damn it!"
He was absolutely over the top, and only fifteen minutes had passed before he pulled into Fourth Privet Drive.
"Petunia, Petunia!" Vernon shouted as he entered the house, "I saw something on the television - who are you!?" He looked at the uninvited guest in the house with a wary look on his face.
In the living room, Petunia and Dudley sat on the sofa, Petunia seemed to be trying to take Dudley into her arms, but Dudley desperately fought it off, both had their eyes dead set on the tall, thin man standing opposite them - unfortunately, the man was wearing the robe and cloak that Vernon hated so much.
"I believe you are the man of the house. Hello, I am a staff member of the Ministry of Magic, working in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, you can call me Dudley." The man said.
Vernon's eyes widened as he looked at the man and then at his son.
"Oh, I found that as an interesting coincidence too," the man said with delight, "Your boy's name is the same, isn't it? There is a difference though, 'Dudley' is my family name ..." the man muttered to himself, taking a piece of parchment out of his pocket, "Alas, as you may already know, the magical world is completely exposed to the eyes of the whole world and the whole country is in chaos. In order to guard against possible danger, I have been sent by the Ministry of Magic to seek your opinion-"
"Possible Danger? What dangers? It's not as if our family will ever, ever be able to do that damned m-" Vernon's face reddened, he looked furious, and he gritted his teeth as he uttered the word that he hated so much:
"--magic!"
"Don't be silly," the male wizard looked at him compassionately, "in the eyes of the other Muggles, you are all in the same boat as us."
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