The sky above was dotted with twinkling stars as Felix Harp walked along the streets of Cairo, Egypt, his form gradually changing. As he entered a wizarding pub, the bustling crowd fell silent with his appearance, and a sense of unease spread through the people like wheat bowing under a strong wind, moving from near to far.
The people were intimidated by his infamous reputation from half a century ago, yet curiosity mingled with their fear.
"My brothers, my sisters, my fellow wizards," a voice, hoarse with age, echoed through the pub as Grindelwald spread his arms, "I will put an end to the chaos plaguing this land—"
"In the name of Grindelwald's Code!"
...
The next day, Harry Potter groggily woke up in his bed at The Burrow. His head heavy, it took him a while to find his glasses in the pocket of his clothes. Putting them on, he saw through the window that it was already bright outside, the sunlight somewhat dazzling.
He pushed Ron Weasley's arm away, jumped out of bed, and glanced at the old watch on his wrist—a birthday gift from Mrs. Weasley, originally belonging to her brother who had bravely died in the war.
"Noon," Harry muttered, his throat dry and feeling slightly nauseous, probably from drinking too much champagne the night before. He slowly made his way downstairs, memories of the wedding night gradually coming back, bringing a smile to his face. It had been a wonderful evening.
From the moment Professor Harp informed him about the biography of Dumbledore they were going to write together, to the professor and Hermione Granger leaving one after the other, and then reappearing on the dance floor; by then, Harry had been talking to Elphias Doge for a while. Remembering the content of the obituary Doge had written, Harry's fondness for him grew.
They had an enjoyable conversation, but when Ginny Weasley passed by them for the third time, Doge raised his glass, advising Harry to enjoy the pleasant moments while he could. Taking the advice to heart, Harry quickly arranged to meet Doge again before whisking an impatient Ginny off to dance—what happened afterward?Harry tapped his head gently as he passed Ginny's room on the second floor. Resisting the urge to knock, he headed to the kitchen and immediately felt grateful for that decision. Ginny was sitting at the dining table, listlessly eating her breakfast (or was it lunch?).
"Harry, you're awake?" Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully, breaking into the sweet nothings Bill and Fleur were whispering to each other. To Harry, the couple seemed inseparable post-marriage, as if they'd have to share a set of utensils unless the Weasley's financial situation took a dire turn.
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley, I just got up," Harry mumbled.
"Allo!" Fleur greeted him with her usual French warmth, "We're discussing holiday destinations, come and have a look with us."
Harry sat next to Bill, looking down at the brochure handed to him, printed with pictures of beautiful landscapes. He flipped through a few pages and pointed at a cliff by the sea, saying, "This looks nice."
"Does it?" Fleur mused, reading the small print under the photo with a thoughtful expression, "In Cornwall... I haven't been there. It says wild roses bloom all over in summer, what do you think?" she turned to Bill.
"My dear, we have all the time in the world to go anywhere," Bill responded softly.
Mrs. Weasley served Harry a plate of food, the plate making a loud noise as it scraped against the table. Harry sensed her mood was not as cheerful as it appeared, glancing at Ginny, who made a face at him.
"Where's Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked.
"He's gone to work," Mrs. Weasley said distractedly, "Percy and Penelope couldn't stay last night, we don't have enough space... I'm thinking of adding a few more houses around here?"
"Mom," Bill interjected, "Even if we move out, Fleur and I will come to visit you and dad every week."
Seemingly caught in her thoughts, Mrs. Weasley flustered with her cleaning cloth, "Oh, yes, well, I just thought—it's nice to have everyone together for occasions—like yesterday's, for sure."
The meal was tense for Harry, but by the time Ron came downstairs, the atmosphere had already calmed. He was wolfing down fried eggs and pie.
"Is there any of yesterday's champagne left?" Ron asked hopefully.
"No," Mrs. Weasley said sternly.
After eating, Harry, Ron, and Ginny moved to the living room, while Bill and Fleur went for a walk. The three listened to the clinking and clanking from the kitchen until
Ron, belatedly realizing something, asked:
"What's up with mom?"
Ginny sighed, "Bill and Fleur want to move out and live on their own. It was all settled, but mom still wants to fight it."
Ron made a prayer gesture.
"Merlin help her."
"By the way," Harry asked Ginny, "where's Hermione? She's not still sleeping, is she?"
Ginny rolled her eyes.
"What are you thinking? She went to Diagon Alley early this morning. The radio said some Muggles were invited to experience the wizarding world up close—as a sort of exchange. Hermione was on TV a while ago; I think she might be helping out." She sounded unsure.
Near evening, Hermione returned, bubbling with energy. She happily announced that the day's event had been a success.
"I watched all day long. Except for a woman with a face full of freckles who refused to leave the beauty potion shop, insisting on trying the potions, everything went smoothly—no runaway creatures in the pet shop, no biting books in Flourish and Blotts, no goblins in Gringotts calling wizards thieves, no Bludgers exploding someone's head in the Quidditch shop..."
Hermione listed several potential hazards, finally taking a long breath, making Harry wonder if the Muggles had visited the same place he knew.
"Yeah, they were really lucky," Ron said sarcastically.
Ignoring his sarcasm, Hermione continued, "When they were free to explore, I chatted with one of them—you'll never guess, she was from France! Even more surprisingly, she knew Professor Harp, but they didn't get to meet today."
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Don't you know?" Hermione looked at Harry in surprise, "Professor Harp has already left for the headquarters of the International Confederation of Wizards."
...
The headquarters of the International Confederation of Wizards was located in an unmarked area on the northeastern border of France, amidst rugged mountains and valleys, virtually coated in every known protective spell since its foundation, ensuring its security and secrecy. The only issue was its accessibility and somewhat dated methods. Felix had visited once, dazzled by the myriad of bright, layered magical glows, before being escorted to the nearby city of Strasbourg.
Strasbourg, the largest border city in France, lies on the western bank of the Rhine River. To its west are the Vosges Mountains; on the east, it faces the German state of Baden-Württemberg across the river, with the Black Forest in Germany just 25 kilometers away; the north is bordered by the Haguenau Forest, and the south by the Rhine River Plain.
Felix and Babajide Akingbade walked through a small area of medieval half-timbered houses and Baroque sandstone buildings, along the picturesque riverbank, before vanishing on a stone bridge.
They were greeted by a spacious downward golden staircase. Their footsteps echoed off the walls, amplifying and reverberating back to their ears. Felix carefully examined the various bas-reliefs carved on the walls.
"That depicts the scene of the first International Confederation of Wizards conference," Akingbade pointed to one of the reliefs, "The chairman at that time—also the first chairman, Pierre Bonaccord, was a Frenchman. He chose this place as the venue for the conference."
Felix was slightly surprised.
"I thought the conference was held at the headquarters of the Confederation."
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