Astaria: A New Dawn

CH 70: The End of Magic

The leaders gathered again in the grand Wizengamot Hall, their expressions a mixture of shock, disbelief, and concern. At the center of the room stood Hermione Granger, her face pale and weary, yet filled with resolve. Ron stood beside her, equally shaken, while the other witches and wizards who had come through the portal stood behind them, silent and grim.

Hermione took a deep breath. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air as she began to explain the devastating truth of what had happened in their old world.

Hermione's Flashback:

It all began slowly, she explained, a creeping dread that spread like a disease. Magic was dying. Wizards and witches around the world began noticing it first—spells were failing, wands grew unresponsive, magical creatures began to grow weaker, and eventually, entire enchantments and wards began to crumble. Hogwarts itself had become vulnerable, the once impenetrable wards fading until they flickered out entirely.

But what followed was worse. The muggle world, realizing the vulnerability of the magical community, turned on them with ruthless efficiency. With guns, bombs, and eventually nuclear weapons, they began a systematic destruction of everything tied to magic. No one was safe—Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and every wizarding village was wiped out. Those who had relied on magic found themselves defenseless against the overwhelming force of muggle technology.

Hermione's voice trembled as she described how the wizarding world went into hiding, burrowing deep underground to escape the chaos above. She, Ron, and countless others found refuge in the ruins of Gringotts, in the mines beneath what was once Diagon Alley. It was a grim existence—cold, dark, and terrifyingly quiet. They had no idea how much time had passed, only that they were the last of their kind, hiding from a world that had utterly destroyed theirs.

It was Ron who discovered a way out. Deep within the forgotten depths of the Goblin mines, he found an old scrap of parchment, tattered and worn but still legible. The paper contained an ancient spell, one that no one had seen before, a ritual tied to the old Goblin magic that once protected Gringotts. With no other options, they took a desperate chance.

The group gathered in an ancient Goblin ritual chamber, a place long forgotten, and performed the spell. They didn't know where it would take them or even if it would work, but they had no choice. As the ritual completed, there was a blinding flash of light, and the next thing they knew, they were standing in the center of the Wizengamot Hall of Arcane Crossroads.

End of Flashback.

The room was utterly silent when Hermione finished. Every leader, from Harry to Lady Seraphina Drakos, to King Triton, sat in stunned disbelief. The tale of magic's death and the destruction of their old world was almost too terrible to comprehend. The idea that they had been driven underground, that their entire society had been obliterated by muggle weapons—it was a nightmare none of them had ever imagined.

Harry, seated at the head of the table, finally broke the silence. "You mean to tell me that magic is dead in the old world? That there's nothing left?"

Hermione nodded, her eyes haunted. "It's gone, Harry. The last of the magic... it faded. We couldn't cast even the simplest of spells toward the end. We're lucky to have made it here."

Everyone was still reeling from the news when Harry gave a quick glance to one of the guards. The guard understood instantly and gave a slight nod. As Hermione, Ron, and the others were escorted to a nearby meeting room, Harry had already made a silent, secret order: lock the door behind them.

As the heavy doors closed behind the newcomers with a resounding click, Harry turned back to the rest of the leaders. His face was grim, but his voice steady.

"We need to decide what to do with them."

The room erupted in murmurs as the leaders exchanged looks of concern. This wasn't just about a few refugees; it was about the survival of their world, a world they had worked so hard to build. Magic in Astaria was flourishing, but could these newcomers disrupt that balance? Would bringing them fully into this world endanger the peace and prosperity they had achieved?

"Do we trust them?" asked Firenze, his voice steady but filled with doubt. The centaur had always been cautious about outsiders, and now even more so.

"They're our people, our friends," Harry said firmly. "But I understand the concerns. We need to think this through carefully."

Sorina Nightbloom, the Veela leader, leaned forward. "What if they bring with them the same destruction that ruined their world? We can't risk the balance we've created here. Magic is thriving in Astaria—we can't let anything jeopardize that."

Isabell Star spoke up next, her voice thoughtful. "We owe it to them to understand what happened. But until we're sure of their intentions, we need to be cautious."

"Agreed," added King Triton, his deep voice resonating through the hall. "They must be tested. We need to ensure they aren't harboring any lingering dangers from the old world."

Harry nodded, listening to each of their concerns. Deep down, his loyalty to Ron, Hermione, and the others warred with his duty to protect this new world. He knew he couldn't let his emotions cloud his judgment, not when the stakes were this high.

"We'll keep them here, under watch, until we know more," Harry decided. "I'll personally oversee their integration. But we need to learn exactly how they got here—and if there's any risk to Astaria."

The leaders exchanged nods of agreement. The decision had been made, but the weight of it hung heavy in the air. The fate of Astaria and the future of magic itself now rested on what they would discover in the days to come.

As the meeting came to a close, Harry couldn't help but glance once more at the locked door. Ron, Hermione, and the others were on the other side, waiting, unaware that their fate was being decided in this very room.

Whatever came next, it would change everything.