Leo's Mansion...
Seeing that the test was a complete success,
Heldie and Beatie—
The eccentric yet brilliant witch sisters—
Immediately sprang into action, pulling out glowing quills, floating scrolls, enchanted stethoscopes, and even a tiny bubbling cauldron with diagnostic mist.
They surrounded Jonny like a pair of hawks analysing a rare magical artefact.
"Heartbeat—stable."
"Mana flow—surging nicely."
"No corruption in the magical core…"
"Lung-to-core resonance is balanced!"
"He's still an idiot."
"Scientifically verified."
"Hey!"
Jonny objected weakly, still holding his textbook upside down.
The sisters kept bickering playfully as they worked,
Each is trying to one-up the other in magical jargon and diagnostic flair.
Everyone else simply watched in quiet amusement—
Dracula even whispered to Leo,
"Are they always like this?"
To which Leo nodded, mildly exasperated.
Finally, Beatie stepped back, arms folded.
"Confirmed. No abnormalities. No mana collapse. He's stable."
Heldie added, flipping her notes:
"Also, no brain enhancements. Shame."
Jonny looked offended.
"...I can hear you, y'know."
With their duty done and the potion deemed a long-term success,
The sisters turned to Kejoro, who had been watching the entire scene with a smile tugging at her lips.
"You!"
Heldie pointed suddenly, eyes gleaming.
"Come with us."
"Yes,"
Beatie grinned.
Grin~
"You're clearly cursed with free time and great hair. Perfect for navigating Diagon Alley."
Kejoro blinked.
"Eh?"
Heldie looped her arm around one of Kejoro's.
"We've earned a break."
Beatie grabbed the other.
"No work. Just fun. And chaos. And sweets. And more sweets."
Kejoro laughed, unable to hide her amusement anymore.
"Alright, alright. But only if I get to pick the first shop."
"Deal,"
They said in unison.
With a swirling teleportation charm and a puff of sparkles (because Heldie insisted everything needed flair),
The trio vanished—
Off to Diagon Alley, this time not as alchemists on a mission…
…but as three mischievous women about to wreak cheerful havoc on every boutique, wand shop, and bakery in their path.
As the door gently closed behind the trio heading off to Diagon Alley,
The room settled into a quiet buzz of wonder and contemplation.
Jonny—
"____"
Now flipping through his beginner spellbook with furrowed brows and upside-down enthusiasm—
Sat like a child on Christmas morning.
Across the room,
Dumbledore and Grindelwald stood in mild conversation.
Their eyes occasionally flicked toward Jonny,
Who was currently poking at his own wand with the cautious excitement of someone holding a firework.
After a moment, Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles and stepped toward Leo.
"Leo,"
He began thoughtfully,
"If I may… I would like to oversee Jonny's early magical development. This potion is… monumental. It's one thing to know it works, and another to understand how it integrates with magical growth."
Grindelwald nodded in agreement, folding his arms behind his back.
Nod~
"Indeed. This transformation breaks the boundaries of bloodline and inheritance. If this works as expected, it could change the very nature of our society."
"I would also like to observe and test the limits of what Jonny is capable of—his magical affinity, reaction to spell theory, and most importantly… whether his magic grows naturally or artificially plateaus."
Leo looked at the two legendary wizards before him—
One is the current guiding light of Hogwarts, the other a reformed revolutionary.
A slight smirk tugged at his lips.
Smirk~
"You want to train him together?"
Leo asked, raising an eyebrow.
Dumbledore and Grindelwald glanced at one another.
Grindelwald offered a grin.
Grin~
"It wouldn't be the first time we've shared a student."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
"And he'll need all the help he can get…"
At that moment, Jonny tripped over the tree branch while trying to mimic a wand movement from the book and face-planted into a cushion.
His muffled voice called out.
"I think I just cast Stupefy on myself!"
Leo sighed and chuckled,
Sigh~
"He's all yours."
And so, it was decided—
Jonny would be trained under the joint mentorship of Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald, not just as a trial for the potion…
Ministry of Magic...
Minister's Office...
The sunlight filtering through the arched stained-glass windows reflected off the polished marble floor of Minister Jenkins' office.
For once, the room was calm.
The clatter of parchment and quills had quieted.
Minister Jenkins—
Rarely seen without a stack of urgent reports—
She was reclining slightly in her chair, a delicate cup of spiced tea in one hand,
A half-eaten cinnamon scone in the other.
She was savouring the moment.
A brief pause in chaos.
"____"
Her thoughts wandered to Leo and the revolutionary potion he had spoken of.
She had received the intel that the first human trial was taking place today.
She had wanted badly to be there.
But after the Voldemort-led Azkaban break-in and the Potter estate attack, her schedule had exploded into pure madness.
A single misstep now could destabilise everything Leo had helped rebuild.
Just as she took another bite, the double oak doors creaked open, and a young, red-faced Auror sprinted in with his hair sticking to his forehead.
Creak~
"Minister! A letter. Bearing… the Morningstar seal!"
Her chair straightened with a snap.
Snap.
The scone? Forgotten.
"Hand it here,"
She said, her voice brisk but controlled.
Her eyes instantly fell upon the thick black wax seal—
The seal of Morningstar.
She took the letter and dismissed the Auror with a wave, already unsealing it with a flick of her wand.
A magical shimmer glided over the parchment as it recognised her as the rightful recipient.
As the words appeared in Leo's clean, elegant script, her heart thudded faster.
Dear Jenkins,
The transformation potion is a success.
The test subject, Jonathan Loughran—originally a non-magical human—has successfully awakened magic within his system and survived the transformation process without instability or rejection.
He is now, by all measurements, a wizard.
Dumbledore and Grindelwald are currently overseeing his training and development.
Both were witnesses to the transformation and confirmed its legitimacy.
I have enclosed no sample for security reasons.
But the recipe is in trusted hands, and the potion is under tight watch within Morningstar Mansion.
We will speak soon.
—Leo Morningstar
Minister Jenkins stared at the letter for a long while.
"____"
A grin—rare and powerful—spread across her face.
"It's real."
She rose from her seat, pacing toward the window as Fatass the owl perched lazily on her bookshelf, already helping himself to one of her pastries.
It has sneaked following the young auror earlier to smuggle her pastries.
"Leo… you've done it."
Her eyes burned with fierce determination.
She turned, tapping the fireplace with her wand and calling to her assistant.
"Get me a secure channel to the Wizengamot. And alert the Department of Magical Integration. We're moving to Phase Two."
Fatass burped.
Burp!
"____"
Hoot. Hoot.
Loudly.
She ignored it.
Voldemort's Hideout...
Somewhere Deep in the Highlands...
A rotten, damp silence hovered over the shattered remains of what was once a hunter's lodge,
Now converted into the base of operations for the Dark Lord and his remaining Death Eaters.
Voldemort, robe torn, face drawn tight with rage, sat cross-legged on the cracked stone floor, his serpentine red eyes glowing in the dim torchlight.
Around him knelt the few Death Eaters who had escaped the massacre at the Potter estate—
Faces masked, nervous, some bruised, all silent.
Before him lay a parchment, still smouldering at the edges from where his anger had nearly set it aflame.
It was a letter from Orion Black, the current head of the Black family.
And it was an insult.
"To the so-called Dark Lord Voldemort—"
"The noble and most ancient House of Black does not and will never follow a half-blood pretender who claims to be a descendant of Salazar Slytherin.
Only fools or desperate cowards would follow you, and neither describes the House of Black.
If you seek to threaten our name, know this—our fire burns darker than yours ever will."
"With eternal disdain,
—Orion Black"
The letter crumpled in Voldemort's hand as his face contorted, not in pain—
But humiliation.
"How… DARE he,"
Voldemort hissed, voice barely above a whisper—
But every syllable cut like a knife.
He struck the wall beside him with a bone-thin fist.
The weakened terrace above cracked, dislodging a chunk of stone which crashed down right onto his bare foot.
"AAAAARGH!"
The Death Eaters winced in silence, none daring to even move.
"____"
"____"
"____"
Bellatrix would've laughed, but she wasn't here anymore.
She had long since thrown her loyalty behind Morningstar after Leo had messed with the timeline and prevented her from becoming a dead eater.
Blood trickled from his foot.
His face twisted.
But not from pain—from fury.
He slowly stood up, limping to his seat, bloodied foot staining the ground.
Then with a cold stare, he declared.
"The Potters are protected by Morningstar. By the Ministry. They are too visible."
"But the Blacks…"
He spat the name,
"They think their walls and name make them safe."
He turned to his men.
"We will break that illusion."
Then he hissed, dangerously calm.
"Find her. Find my daughter. Bring her to me. I shall turn her into a Horcrux. With James Potter's blood."
One Death Eater stirred.
"My Lord… your daughter—Delphini—is said to be protected. She is rumored to be under Morningstar's watch."
Voldemort paused.
"____"
"Then we move with subtlety and patience. I will have her. One way or another. Morningstar or not."
He then looked back down at Orion's letter.
"And as for the Blacks…"
His grin widened, unnerving.
Grin~
"We will make an example of them. We will show every noble house what happens when you mock the heir of Slytherin."
A silence fell over the room.
The Death Eaters knew what was coming.
It wasn't just war anymore.
It was personal.
And vengeance had just been set ablaze.
Ministry of Magic...
Department of International Magical Cooperation...
Top-Secret Chamber, Level 10...
A tall, circular room enchanted with protective runes hummed faintly with ancient power.
One by one, members of the International Confederation of Wizards, the Wizengamot's senior council, and other magical dignitaries from across the world appeared via specialised Portkeys or stepped through shimmering apparition wards.
Among them were towering names—
Ministers, High Councillors, Magical Scholars, Wizards and Witches of renown.
And today, even Nicolas Flamel had arrived.
The 655-year-old alchemist looked more youthful than the others had expected—
His eyes twinkled behind rimmed spectacles.
The legend himself had not attended a single political assembly in decades.
But this time was different.
"Muggle Integration Plan – Phase Two,"
That was the only line on the summons.
Flamel remembered scoffing at the previous gathering.
But he was wrong.
Since that meeting, things had changed.
Whispers of unified magical reforms had grown louder, slower, but clearer.
Rogue activity was being countered more swiftly.
Magical and non-magical relations were being whispered about in places where secrecy once ruled.
And in the middle of it all: Leo Morningstar.
The name that was now synonymous with miracles… and chaos.
As everyone took their seats, a low murmur filled the hall.
Floating above the round table was a magical display—
A translucent globe with shimmering golden and red trails, representing wizarding and Muggle societies respectively, intertwining gradually.
Then the doors opened once more—
And Albus Dumbledore entered, his expression unreadable.
Several murmurs broke out.
"Dumbledore is late as always."
"Is this connected to Morningstar?"
He nodded briefly to several known allies—
Including Nicolas Flamel—
Before taking his place.
Finally, Minister Jenkins stood, her voice strong, reverberating with authority.
"We begin now. The Phase Two of the Muggle Integration Plan has been activated…"
"…because a potion capable of transforming a Muggle into a wizard has been successfully created."
"The first human trial was successful."
Silence.
"____"
"____"
"____"
The words hit like a meteorite.
A few stood up in disbelief.
Others gasped audibly.
Gasp!
"Impossible!"
"This is madness!"
"It's heresy!"
Arguments erupted.
One wizard from Germany slammed his hand down.
"This breaks the foundation of our bloodline! It will incite rebellion from old bloodlines!"
A dignitary from Brazil whispered in awe.
"Or it may restore balance between the magical and non-magical..."
A French sorceress raised her voice, neutral but analytical.
"And who created this potion?"
Dumbledore calmly stood up.
"Leo Morningstar and his subordinates named witch sisters, and I was present during the first test."
The room erupted again.
"____"
Flamel, for his part, was stunned—
His jaw was slightly agape before his fingers stroked his beard thoughtfully. He leaned toward Dumbledore:
"He succeeded… and it didn't collapse the host?"
"It not only succeeded,"
Dumbledore replied quietly,
"But the host shows no magical rejection, no mutations… and immense potential."
Flamel's lips curled slightly.
"Then I must meet this man."
Voting stances began to take shape:
The conservative bloc (led by old bloodlines from Eastern Europe and China) openly opposed the plan.
The neutral faction (primarily scholars and low-involvement nations) asked for more testing and documentation.
The progressive wing, led by Dumbledore, Flamel, and Minister Jenkins, voiced support—
With calls for strict regulation and supervision.
But no matter the side, all agreed on one thing.
"The wizarding world will never be the same again."
Meanwhile...
Morningstar's Mansion...
Dracula's eyes sparkled with unrestrained excitement.
"You're serious?"
He asked, nearly vibrating where he stood, cape fluttering despite the lack of wind.
"You're putting me in charge of the Hotel Transylvania branch of the Continental?"
Leo gave a half-smile, arms crossed, eyes steady.
"I wouldn't trust it to anyone else. You've run the hotel for centuries, and no one negotiates with monsters better than you."
"AH-HA!"
Dracula twirled midair, his feet lifting an inch from the floor in pure joy.
"Finally! My moment!"
He grabbed a small black notebook from his coat like a general preparing for war and furiously began scribbling down ideas.
"Uniform codes... security enchantments... blood-type specific room service options… OH! And perhaps a no-howling-after-midnight policy!"
Leo raised an eyebrow.
"You're still writing that policy? I thought that was implemented years ago."
Dracula looked sheepish.
"They unionised."
Leo let out a small laugh and turned toward the hallway.
"Come. Time to show you the system in action."
He raised a hand and focused, and opened a door.
A golden shimmer flickered in the air—
Growing, swirling—
Until it stretched into a tall, ornate archway.
The golden portal hummed with power, illuminating the floor with waves of warm light.
Dracula, clutching his notepad like sacred scripture, followed behind eagerly.
With a single step, they crossed over.
Nurarihyon World...
Outside the Continental Hotel...
The golden light faded behind them.
A vast cityscape unfolded, shrouded in ethereal mists and lanternlight.
Yokai of all shapes and sizes moved like shadows—
Some whispering, others vanishing into smoke.
Above it all stood the grand structure of the Continental—
Its dark marble spires glowing with sigils, its doors guarded by twin Tengu warriors.
Dracula gasped, cape fluttering behind him.
Gasp!
"Monstrous... majestic… professional. I love it."
Leo gestured ahead.
"Each region has its own rules, but the foundation remains the same. Neutral ground. No violence. Every monster has a place. Every job is registered. It's a safe haven... and a power centre."
Dracula feverishly jotted more notes.
"Safe haven. Got it. Power centre. Yessss. Must install vampire-compliant box—no one ever uses it, but it looks good."
As they walked, Leo began explaining the logistics—
How jobs were assigned, the coin system, and the enforcement squad.
Dracula soaked it up like ancient bloodwine.
When they reached the grand foyer, Leo turned.
"You'll be reporting directly to me. Think you can handle it?"
Dracula's fangs gleamed in a wild grin.
"Please. I've managed a hotel filled with mummies, werewolves, invisible men, and Jonathan."
Leo nodded.
Nod~
"Welcome to the Continental, Director Dracula."
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************
(Author's POV)
(A/N)I hope you guys are enjoying the story.
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give a review and power stone!!! It will Motivate Me.