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.

Without further ado, let's get started.

Enjoy.

Broken Shackles

Chapter 40

Powerplay

20th July 1994

Ministry of Magic

The opulent room on Level One of the Ministry of Magic is abuzz with an undercurrent of tension and anticipation, evident even before the high-level officials took their seats around the vast oval table. In the office of the Minister of Magic as this space is used rarely. Gilded portraits of past Ministers looked down from the walls, their painted eyes darting between the officials, echoing the silent apprehension that permeated the air.

Seated at the head of the table, Minister Cornelius Fudge glanced at the thick parchment report set before him, the embossed title reading "Preliminary Investigation on the Unjust Imprisonment of Sirius Orion Black." A sheen of sweat formed on his brow.

Though Dumbledore should attend the meeting, Fudge masterfully avoided that by underscoring the importance of the meeting for the Chief Warlock irrespective of Dumbledore's protests and Amelia's pleas for his attendance. And so they met in the meeting chamber, to discuss the plan moving forward.

The room is full of important figures of the Ministry with most Department Heads and Ministers Secretaries. Amelia sat opposite Fudge her gaze sharp and analytical, an aura of unyielding righteousness surrounding her. Alongside her were representatives from other significant departments: Kingsley Shacklebolt representing the Aurors, Mafalda Hopkirk from Improper Use of Magic, and several others.

Barty Crouch Sr., from the Department of International Magical Cooperation, adjusted his glasses, taking in the gravity of the situation. This meeting would undoubtedly have implications beyond the boundaries of the Chamber, echoing in the chambers of magical families across Britain. He didn't doubt it.

As the last of the murmured side conversations died down, Fudge cleared his throat, attempting to muster a facade of confidence. "Ladies and gentlemen, we convene today to address a grave oversight that has shaken the very foundations of our judicial system. The unjust imprisonment of Sirius Black requires immediate redressal and measures to prevent such mishaps in the future."

Amelia took over, spreading out the pages of the report before her. "To get to the heart of the matter, we've conducted a thorough investigation into the events and decisions that led to Sirius Black's incarceration without a trial." She shot a pointed look at Fudge, "The lack of due process in this case is alarming."

Madam Bones shuffled through the stack of documents before her, each parchment meticulously marked and notated. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at the room's occupants, ensuring she had everyone's undivided attention.

"To understand the grave miscarriage of justice that occurred with Sirius Black," Amelia began, "we must also scrutinise the dubious influence of some influential families, historically affiliated with the Dark Lord."

The room went silent, the tension palpable.

She continued, "Our investigations have led us to several old Death Eater families. I won't name names—yet—but their influence on certain Ministry decisions, especially in the years after Voldemort's downfall, has been...questionable." Many flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord's name and Fudge furiously glared at Amelia.

Not one to back down, Amelia pulled out a particular parchment and read, "Multiple anonymous tips were sent to the DMLE in the days following the Potters' deaths, all pointing to Sirius Black as the guilty party, without any concrete evidence. Curiously, these letters had traces of magical signatures linked to several old family crests."

She let the implication hang in the air.

Umbridge's eyes gleamed with a calculated indignation, "Such mismanagement seeks to destabilise the very core of our administration. The previous regime allowed these families to run rampant, and in doing so, cast shadows on our impeccable record." She said, throwing a meaningful look at Barty Crouch.

As she returned her gaze, Fudge's eyes got her attention and a flicker of understanding seemed to pass between them. Umbridge, once more seizing the opportunity, quickly shifted the conversation away from the accusations.

"Well, Minister, we mustn't dwell on the past," she said with faux sympathy. "What's important now is to focus on the future and ensure that such mistakes never happen again. Perhaps we should consider a thorough review of the previous administration's policies."

Understanding the ploy, Madam Bones, determined to keep the discussion on track, cleared her throat loudly and interjected, "While that may be a valid point, we cannot lose sight of the fact that these allegations against certain influential families need to be addressed promptly and impartially. Let us not allow distractions to overshadow the pursuit of justice."

Fudge nodded reluctantly, and the meeting resumed its focus on the pressing matters at hand.

"As we were discussing, do you have any suggestions on how to move forward knowing that many traditional families are involved in this?" Madam Bones asked.

Kingsley's face darkened in realisation. "It's not just about Black. How many others might have suffered or been protected due to such influences?"

Crouch Sr., a known hardliner against Death Eaters but also someone with a complicated family legacy, shifted uncomfortably. "If these allegations are true, those responsible—no matter their standing—must face the consequences." He reluctantly added as he had a major part in judging the criminals post-war.

Amelia looked pointedly at Fudge. "Moreover, Minister, it's alarming to note that despite these anonymous letters lacking any concrete evidence, immediate actions were taken against Sirius Black. The swiftness with which he was imprisoned, without a proper trial, is... telling."

She paused, letting her words sink in. "And given that some of these families are known benefactors to various Ministry initiatives and campaigns... one can't help but wonder…"

Fudge's face turned a shade of magenta, beads of sweat forming on his brow. "I... I had no idea. I acted on the information provided to me."

Madam Marchbanks interjected, her voice soft yet firm, "Information, Cornelius, or influence?"

Fudge spluttered, "I have always worked for the betterment of our community. These insinuations..."

Amelia raised a hand, silencing him. "This isn't about pointing fingers, Minister. It's about understanding the depth of the corruption, about recognizing the rot within, and ensuring it doesn't happen again."

Madam Marchbanks nodded in agreement, "We must act swiftly, ensuring transparency and rebuilding the public's trust. I've been the Head of Magical Education for almost a century. I never faced such allegations, Minister." She added with a questioning look at Cornelius.

After her active and unbiased role in Sirius Black's trial, Madam Marchbanks became a trusted ally by many realist thinkers in the ministry and was given an active role as Department Head to question Fudge's decisions.

As the minutes passed, the meeting room continued to build with tension, the weight of years of hidden truths and political manoeuvrings beginning to unravel. The air seemed thick, and many around the table shifted uncomfortably.

Fudge appeared particularly distressed, his usual bluster replaced by a silent contemplation that many in the room had never witnessed before. His thoughts, however, were racing. The implications of Amelia's words are not lost on him.

Lucius Malfoy's name echoed in his mind. The man has always been a generous supporter of his campaigns, making significant contributions to the Ministry under the guise of "community betterment." The Malfoy family is wealthy and influential, and Fudge enjoyed the prestige and power that their endorsement has granted him. But their relationship has its expectations—political favours, discreet overlooks, and subtle manipulations that steered decisions in favour of certain families.

Fudge's thoughts turned to the Quidditch World Cup. Another of Lucius's brainchild. The Malfoys, along with other old families, have been instrumental in ensuring its safety. With the entire wizarding world's eyes on Britain, an event of that magnitude could not afford any mishaps. Lucius had promised that he had connections that could ensure the event's success, and he has been delivering on that promise, bringing experts Fudge didn't know existed and overseeing the stage setup and security detail. But now, the true cost of that assurance is becoming evident.

The whispered conversations he'd had with the likes of Nott, Carrow, and other lords, who insinuated their expectations of "protection" in return for their support, now made a sickening sense. The labyrinth of power and influence, where lines between right and wrong blurred, has trapped him.

Amelia's voice broke through his reverie. "Minister, you must understand the gravity of the situation. We are on the brink of a massive public trust crisis. It's not just about Sirius Black's unjust imprisonment but the entire integrity of the Ministry."

Fudge cleared his throat, attempting to gather his thoughts coherently. "Amelia, I...I understand the situation's seriousness. I admit that, perhaps, I may have been... misled by certain individuals. But my primary concern has always been the safety and well-being of our community."

Madam Marchbanks, her gaze piercing, remarked, "Safety, Minister, should never come at the cost of our integrity and justice. A community built on falsehoods will crumble eventually."

As the murmurs grew louder and more frequent, distinct pockets of conversation could be discerned in the chamber. Deep-set fears, doubts, and predictions entwined with each word.

A junior official leaned close to his colleague, his eyes darting nervously. "If the public finds out about Fudge's connection with those families, there's no way he'll survive the backlash. It'll be the end of his career."

A woman, with greying hair neatly tied back, nodded gravely, "Not just his career, dear. The entire credibility of the Ministry will be at stake. We'll lose the public's trust, perhaps for generations."

A pair from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement huddled in a corner. "Think of the uproar! The Daily Prophet would have a field day. Fudge would be branded as a traitor, or worse," one whispered, his brow furrowed.

His companion added, "And the opposition will use this as the perfect opportunity to dismantle his power base. This could shift the balance of power in the Wizengamot."

At the far end of the room, an older official remarked to a group, "Remember the last scandal? This would be tenfold. Our international reputation will be tarnished. Our allies would question every move, every treaty."

A younger witch, with a tremor in her voice, said, "This could lead to widespread protests. The magical community is already on edge because of the recent events. This revelation could ignite a firestorm."

Throughout the chamber, the consensus is clear. The potential revelation threatened not just Cornelius Fudge, but the very foundation of the Ministry itself. The weight of the situation pressed heavily upon every shoulder, as the Ministry officials grappled with the ramifications of a truth potentially laid bare.

Fudge, visibly tense and somewhat frazzled, held up a hand to halt the growing momentum of the discussion. His eyes darted across the room before settling on Madam Bones.

"Madam Bones," he began, striving for an authoritative tone, "Your dedication to this investigation is commendable. Truly. However, I believe we have uncovered enough to reveal who is behind all this and to institute internal reforms."

Amelia's brow furrowed. "Minister, with all due respect, I don't believe we've even scratched the surface. The corruption runs deep. It's not just about who is behind this but the very foundation of our justice system. We owe it to our people to bring the entire truth to light."

Fudge's gaze hardened. "The Ministry will handle this matter moving forward. Our top priority now should be the security of the Quidditch World Cup. We cannot afford any disruptions during such a pivotal international event especially as said families are looking over the key security detail. I can't trust them with the safety of Thousands on this momentous occasion." Fudge said with a serious look.

"But, Minister!" Amelia interjected, her voice firm with conviction, "This isn't just another matter to be swept under the rug. It's about the integrity and the very soul of our institution!"

Fudge, rising from his seat, declared, "The decision is final, Madam Bones. The Ministry will take over the investigation. Your department should direct its resources towards ensuring the safety and security of the Quidditch World Cup to make sure it goes well without a hitch."

The room is thick with tension. Many officials exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the gravity of the moment. The lines were clearly drawn: Fudge's administrative order versus the moral imperative to unearth the truth.

Amelia, her gaze unwavering, responded, "I hope, Minister, that you understand the implications of this decision. History will judge us not by the events we host but by the justice we uphold." She said furiously. This is the reason she hates politicians! They always only care for their skin.

Fudge merely nodded, attempting to mask his unease. "Meeting adjourned," he announced, leaving the room in a whirlwind of hushed conversations and palpable tension, the future uncertain.

Madam Bones' heels clicked sharply against the marble floor, echoing the intensity of her frustration as she swiftly exited the chamber. Each step she took seemed to amplify her indignation, leaving behind a palpable aura of dissent. She didn't bother with niceties or even farewells; she had much to think about and even more to plan.

Fudge took a moment to regain his composure, the weight of the confrontation still pressing heavily on his chest. He could feel the sweat on his brow and took a handkerchief from his pocket, dabbing at his forehead. He allowed himself a sigh of relief, one of the few moments of vulnerability he'd permit himself.

"That was close, Cornelius," he whispered to himself, reflecting on the potentially disastrous course the meeting might have taken moving to his private office. As the Minister of Magic, Fudge is often caught in the crossfire of politics and morality. But in the complex labyrinth of bureaucracy, he has become adept at finding escape routes, however questionable they might be.

All the Department Heads left the chamber, disbelief evident on their faces. They didn't expect the Minister to sweep this off under the rug as well. Many were disappointed, some thinking of the implications of this while few made moves in shadows to change what was to come.

Just as Fudge was gathering his thoughts, the door of the office opened softly, revealing a tall, slender man with sharp features and impeccably styled ash-blonde hair. It's Chris Carlisle, one of the wizarding world's top public relations consultants and Fudge's current adviser.

"Minister," Chris greeted, offering a courteous nod.

"Ah, Chris," Fudge said, forcing a smile, "Perfect timing, as always."

Chris smirked, "I've always had a knack for it. I understand you had quite the meeting. Shall we discuss damage control?"

Fudge nodded, gesturing towards a plush seating area in the corner of the room. "Indeed. It seems that now, more than ever, I need to enhance my public image. And with the Quidditch World Cup around the corner, the timing couldn't be better."

Chris took a seat, eyeing Fudge with keen interest. "I have a few ideas in mind, Minister. We'll have the wizarding world singing your praises in no time. After all, everyone loves a good redemption story."

Fudge's eyes glinted with anticipation, hopeful that Chris's expertise could indeed weave the magic he so desperately needed.

Chris, ever the planner, began laying out a series of parchment scrolls filled with detailed plans, while Fudge watched with rapt attention.

"Minister," Chris began, choosing his words carefully, "Your reputation, as it stands, has taken a hit. But fear not, every storm brings a rainbow. And with the Quidditch World Cup on the horizon, this is a golden opportunity."

Fudge leaned in, absorbing every word. "Go on."

"First, visibility is key. You need to be seen actively involved in ensuring the Quidditch World Cup is not just a sporting spectacle, but a testament to unity, peace, and camaraderie. Host a grand ball for international dignitaries, Quidditch teams, and influential figures of our society. Your leadership, under such a global spotlight, will speak volumes."

Fudge nodded in agreement, "I like that. An international touch, yes..."

Chris continued, "Moreover, announce scholarships or initiatives supporting Quidditch in Hogwarts. This will show your commitment to the sport and its players."

"And," Chris added with a sly grin, "don't forget the power of charity. Perhaps a large donation to St. Mungo's Hospital in the name of peace and cooperation?"

"That's a masterstroke, Chris!" Fudge exclaimed. "But what about the ICW session tomorrow?"

Chris's gaze sharpened. "Ah, the ICW. A pivotal platform. You must address the recent events candidly, but also stress the need for unity, collaboration, and forward momentum. Talk about a new dawn for the wizarding world, with Britain at its forefront. Use the Quidditch World Cup as a symbol of this unity. Float the idea of making it even more international, perhaps adding teams or hosting collaborative events. The bigger the spectacle, the better it reflects on you."

Fudge looked thoughtful, "But how do I ensure the ICW is on board?"

"Relationships, Cornelius," Chris responded, "You've cultivated them for years. Now's the time to lean on them. Make personal appeals, remind them of shared successes and express a vision of a prosperous, interconnected future."

Fudge considered the plan. While it might seem excellent on paper, the real challenge lies in its execution. Despite his acting skills, he's uncertain about convincingly pulling it off in front of such influential people.

Chris leaned back, observing Fudge carefully. "The Sirius Black debacle is still fresh in everyone's minds, Cornelius. The ICW will expect you to address it."

Fudge grimaced, "I don't particularly enjoy admitting my mistakes and I've already got an earful from the 3-member panel."

"That's understandable," Chris began, "but in the realm of politics, vulnerability can be an asset. Apologizing openly can show strength and integrity. You admit the oversight, pledge never to repeat such a grievous error, and then segue into the proactive measures you're already implementing."

He paused to ensure Fudge is following, then continued, "Talk about your recent initiatives – the stringent regulations on illegal Animagi, for instance. This shows your commitment to uphold the law and ensure that such mishaps don't occur in the future."

"And the ban on werewolves?" Fudge inquired, remembering a recent, controversial decision Umbridge is nagging about.

"Frame it as a public safety measure," Chris suggested, "Focus on how the Ministry is taking steps to protect its citizens from potential harm. However, ensure there are provisions for werewolves who have shown to be responsible and non-aggressive. This avoids complete alienation."

"Lastly," Chris continued, "you have a golden ticket. Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. He's not just Britain's pride but an inspiration for the magical community worldwide. Perhaps you could initiate an award or commendation for him in the ICW session? This will not only elevate Magical Britain's pride but also your image as someone who recognizes and uplifts heroes."

Fudge's eyes lit up. "A commendation for Potter! That's brilliant, Chris. It's a wonderful way to divert attention from the negatives and focus on the positives."

Chris smiled. "Always end on a high note, Cornelius. Now, all you need is the conviction to see these plans through. Remember, the ICW respects leaders who are proactive, candid, and visionary. Show them that Cornelius Fudge is all of that and more."

As the evening shadows grew longer, Fudge found himself rejuvenated with a newfound vigour to face the challenges ahead. With Chris's advice in mind, he felt equipped to handle the ICW session and the many political intricacies it would present.

21st July 1994

Grand Chamber, Beijing

In the heart of Beijing, where sprawling ancient hutongs gracefully coexisted with rising skyscrapers, a hidden realm lay concealed from the mundane world: the Grand Chamber for the International Confederation of Wizards' (ICW) Summit. As China played host to this monumental event, the setting fused the country's deep-rooted opulence with the boundless wonders of magical artistry.

The entrance to this secluded world was marked by colossal wooden doors, carved meticulously with patterns of dragons and phoenixes—emblems of might and rebirth. Standing guard by these doors were terracotta warrior statues, not mere sculptures but guardians enchanted to protect the sanctity of the summit, ensuring the world's magical diplomacy remained undisturbed.

Beyond the doors, the Grand Chamber revealed its splendour. Lofty ceilings made of enchanted jade tiles stretched high, shimmering softly and illuminating the vast space with an ethereal, verdant glow. This luminance showcased burnished walls that mirrored golden reliefs, tales of China's illustrious magical lineage, from legendary potion maestros to wand-making virtuosos.

The chamber's heart was marked by a massive circular table, hewn from enchanted mahogany and rosewood. Its surface, besides being inscribed with runes from every magical culture, depicted the Yin and Yang, embodying equilibrium and unity. Above the table, delicate lanterns floated like soft celestial bodies, casting warm, golden beams. Their paper exteriors were graced with spells penned in elegant calligraphy, a tribute to China's literary heritage.

The seating layout epitomised both distinction and unity. Each chair, though crafted in a uniform style, was embellished with the unique crest of the wizarding nation it symbolised. While China's delegation had a prominent position, the circular arrangement signified the shared respect and equality among all magical nations.

A serenading backdrop to this assembly was provided by a cascading waterfall, its waters drawn from the mystical Kunlun Mountains. As it flowed, it not only added a tranquil ambience with its gentle ripples but also carried with it age-old legends. Intermingling with the sound of water was the subtle fragrance of sandalwood and chrysanthemum, inducing an aura of calm and concentration. Spread across the chamber were magical bonsai trees, each bearing arcane fruits and blossoms, narrating tales of magical botany and dedication.

On the rear wall, a vast scroll painting unveiled China in all its majesty. From the sinuous trail of the Great Wall through lofty peaks to enchanted groves where mythical beings dwelled, the painting was more than art—it breathed, with its elements subtly moving, bestowing life upon the canvas.

As delegates from magical societies globally began to gather, the chamber buzzed with fervent discussions in diverse tongues. A confluence of cultures and traditions, it was a symphony of unity amidst diversity. And as the Grand Chamber readied itself for deliberations that would shape the magical realm's future, it stood as an epitome of China's resolve to be at the forefront of the global magical community.

From the ornate entrance walked the French delegates, their royal blue robes flowing elegantly. Monsieur Henri Duval, twirling his peacock feather hat, whispered animatedly in French to his compatriots, discussing perhaps the latest potion breakthrough or a recent Quidditch match. Their discussions were punctuated with the fluidity and romance of their language, adding a touch of European grace to the gathering.

Trailing them are the representatives from Germany, in deep forest green, entered next. The subtle shimmer of ancient runes on their robes caught the ambient light. Herr Friedrich Stein conversed with his group in confident German, their discourse reflecting the country's meticulous nature and penchant for precision.

A cold, commanding presence then filled the room as Russia's delegates made their entrance. Their burgundy robes seemed almost imposing in the verdant glow of the jade ceiling. Madame Natalia Ivanova, leading the group, spoke in deep, resonant Russian, emphasising her country's might and resilience.

A splash of vibrant colour signalled the arrival of the Indian delegation. Their saffron, white, and green robes stood out prominently led by Indrajaal Mantri, Ambarish Rajan was deep in conversation in Sanskrit, discussing ancient spells and rituals, his voice filled with pride and reverence for his magical heritage.

The chamber then resonated with the melodious tones of Portuguese as the Brazilian delegates entered. Their multi-coloured robes mirrored the diversity of their homeland. Magia Ministro João Silva, leading the pack, seemed to be sharing a light-hearted anecdote, his group laughing heartily, adding warmth to the room.

They were followed by the assertive, crisp American English of the MACUSA representatives cutting through the hum left in the wake led by President Emily Rappaport discussing recent events, emphasising the country's role in global magical politics.

As they took their seats, the soft rhythmic tones of various African languages filled the chamber next as the African delegates entered. Their pan-African robes reflected their pride in their diverse magical heritage. Madam Amina Okoye, representative of Tanzania seemed to be emphasising unity, her voice strong and unwavering.

The procession of representatives continued, followed by the soft hums of Japanese.

From the Japanese Ministry came delegates draped in exquisite robes, the beautiful patterns of cranes and sakura blossoms weaving across their attire. They moved with a practised grace and precision. Leading them was Maho Minister Hiroshi Nakamura, with a famed family lineage of powerful wizards and mastery in ancient magical arts. The intricate fan he held, adorned with shimmering charms, fluttered softly, catching the light and the attention of many.

Following them is the British delegation, awaited by many with bated breath given recent events, they entered with gravitas. Their robes of deep navy with silver embroidery spoke of the legacy of Hogwarts and centuries of magical tradition. Minister Cornelius Fudge, with his signature lime-green bowler hat, led the delegation. Whispers filled the room, the news of Sirius Black's trial still fresh in everyone's minds.

Following them are one of the far south's magical union, Oceania, delegates dressed in earthy tones of the outback, with robes that depicted the rich tapestry of their magical wildlife: kangaroos with pouches storing wands, thylacines with glowing tails, and lyrebirds casting spells with their beautiful tunes. At their head is Minister Isla Macquarie, a formidable Witch known for her work in magical creature conservation.

Finally, the host nation made its majestic entrance. The Chinese delegates, draped in magnificent robes of red and gold, conversed in their native Mandarin, led by the Premier of Magic, Madam Zhao Jing Wei. Ending the long line of procession of the member nations.

As all the representatives took their seats, the wide doors of the grand entrance creaked open gently, revealing the distinguished silhouette of Albus Dumbledore. His silvery beard and hair gleamed under the chandelier's light, and the twinkling eyes behind his half-moon spectacles scanned the room with gentle authority. The robe he wore, its myriad colours shimmering, flowed behind him like a river of unity as he walked with the ceremonial staff of the Supreme Mugwump.

Behind Dumbledore, the representatives of the Magical Regions followed, each exuding their own distinct aura.

Don Alejandro Serrano, from the Americas, is every bit the picture of grace. His jet-black hair with silver streaks caught the light as he walked, and the subtle clink of his spurs punctuated every step. His posture, erect and confident, radiated his diplomatic intent.

Lysandra N'Gola of the Southern Nations entered with a poise that commanded respect. Her vibrant robes flowed around her like a liquid tapestry, and the metallic accessories in her hair caught the luminescence of the Chamber. With every graceful step, her amber eyes were alive with passion and purpose.

The stern visage of Madame Zéphyrine Moreau from Europe followed closely. Her eyes, sharp and scrutinizing, darted around, taking in every detail. The soft rustle of her robes seemed to whisper tales of ancient European magic and tradition.

Ambassador Jengo Chisulo, representing Africa, exuded a serene wisdom. His ebony robes, rich with patterns and beadwork, moved in rhythm with his measured steps. Every glance he cast was laden with history and the weight of his responsibility.

Lastly, Councillor Li Xiu Ying from Asia approached her designated seat with calm deliberation. Her robes, deep blue with white trims, rustled softly, and her inscrutable expression hinted at depths of knowledge and strategy.

As they each approached their respective seats, the room's ambient magic responded. The Asian seat's dragon motif seemed to dance, the African chair's Anansi spider appeared to weave an invisible web, the American seat's thunderbird gave a silent cry, the Southern seat's opals shimmered even brighter, and the European seat's phoenix seemed to flare briefly with life.

Dumbledore, ascending the steps to his grand seat, paused for a moment, allowing the other representatives to take their positions. The room held its collective breath, the very air thick with expectation.

With a final nod, the Supreme Mugwump took his seat, signalling the commencement of the summit. The magic in the room, already palpable, now surged with a renewed vigour, ready to witness discussions that would shape the future of the wizarding world.

The soft, ambient glow emanating from the magical chandeliers overhead suddenly dimmed slightly, casting the room in a more sombre, intimate light. All chatter ceased, and all eyes turned toward the centre podium where the Chinese Premier of Magic stood. Madam Jing Wei is an elegant woman in her late fifties, dressed in a robe of jade green silk, intricately embroidered with gold dragons that seemed to dance with her every movement. Her raven-black hair is pinned up in a high bun, from which a delicate, golden phoenix pin dangled, glinting as it caught the light.

With a graceful gesture of her hand, she summoned a delicate, crystalline goblet filled with a shimmering blue liquid. She took a sip, cleared her throat, and began to address the chamber.

"Honoured representatives from the magical communities across the world, welcome to Beijing," she began, her voice deep, resonant, and carrying the weight of years of leadership as the liquid translated her words to the native languages of everyone present. "It is a privilege to host the International Confederation of Wizards' summit in our ancient and magical city."

Her gaze swept the room, meeting the eyes of many delegates. "The matters at hand are of grave importance, and our decisions here will resonate throughout the magical world. However, before we delve into our agenda, I would like to take a moment to extend a warm welcome to each and every one of you. Your presence here speaks volumes of our shared commitment to unity, understanding, and the betterment of our global magical society."

She paused, allowing her words to sink in. The room remained silent, the weight of responsibility palpable. "Let this summit serve as a beacon, reminding us that even in our differences, our shared magic binds us in solidarity. As we address the issues, may we remember our shared history, our shared challenges, and our shared aspirations."

With a nod, she concluded, "Without further ado, let us embark on our shared journey, ensuring a brighter, more harmonious future for all in the magical realm. The floor is now open for the first order of business."

As she resumed her seat, the sense of purpose in the room was undeniable, with each delegate prepared to partake in discussions that would shape the future of magic across the globe.

A young assistant, clad in a simple, flowing robe of cream, stepped forward, holding a scroll that shimmered with a faint magical aura. She unrolled it and began to read the topics scheduled for discussion in a clear, steady voice.

"Agenda of Beijing ICW Summit, 1994:

1. Review of the Global Dragon Conservation Efforts and the establishment of new international reserves.

2. Discussions on the revised regulations for the trade of magical creatures and artefacts.

3. Assessment of the rise of dark magical activities across the European regions and its containment.

4. Proposal to introduce standardised education parameters in magical schools across the continents.

5. Review and deliberation on the Werewolf and other permitted creatures Code of Conduct.

6. Addressing the misuse of Time-Turners and suggestions for stricter regulations.

7. Report on Sirius Black's trial and the actions taken by the British Ministry of Magic.

8. The growing concerns on the vanishing magical flora and the need for preservation.

9. Establishment of international committees for the study of lesser-known magical diseases and ailments.

10. Debate and decisions on the inclusion of newer magical sports in the next Magical Games.

11. Proposal to conduct International Trade among member nations.

12. Discussion on relaxing the regulations for magical travel.

13. Impact and Assessment of non-mages Technological development.

14. Miscellaneous matters from member nations."

The room hummed with murmurs and whispers as the topics were read out, each delegate making mental notes on the issues closest to their heart or country.

The mention of Sirius Black's trial and the subsequent actions of the British Ministry garnered particular interest. Many representatives shifted in their seats, their eyes glancing over to the British delegation, their expressions ranging from curiosity to judgment.

There is a palpable tension in the air, as the case had attracted international attention and scrutiny, especially considering Black's relationship to Harry Potter, a name that resonated in every corner of the magical world.

Madam Jing Wei nodded appreciatively at the assistant after the reading and spoke, "Thank you for outlining today's agenda. Given the significance and global interest, I propose we address the report on Sirius Black's trial and the subsequent actions taken by the British Ministry of Magic as our starting point. I invite the British delegation to shed light on the matter."

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 was a bold claim, one that implicated many nations and was 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.

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.

I'll eagerly wait for your arrival in the Dawn!

Link: discord . Gg / SPsSwAcq4b

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Name: Black Dawn

See y'all in the next chapter.

Black Infinity 1289,

Ja Ne.