Before a new dawn

The world was wrong. It was as if someone had upset a precariously balanced scale, throwing the whole world into a heart-wrenching disarray. Tensions, like hidden serpents in grass, uncoiled between Muggles and wizards, spreading fear and suspicion. In the heart of this chaotic whirlwind stood Harry Potter, the orphaned child of Prophecy who had become the beacon of hope for the wizarding world.

It all began a month ago with the abrupt and inexplicable closure of Hogwarts. To an outsider, it might've seemed like an administrative decision. But the parents of the students knew something terrible had invigorated this drastic measure. 

It was one of the first signs of an irrevocable change that had disrupted the harmony between magic and non-magic entities. While the wizarding community reeled at the loss of their beloved school, a far more devastating blow shattered them.

 The Weasleys, the family that had stood shoulder to shoulder with Dumbledore during the darkest times, were almost entirely wiped out. An unknown wizard, power-mad and deranged, had waged war against the light.

But nothing could prepare them for the cataclysm that followed. The anti-Muggle wards fell. The protective spells that had safeguarded their world shattered on a global scale.

 They were now exposed and vulnerable - their magic, their secrets, their existence all bare before a world that had spent ages wallowing in unknowing ignorance. Harry, now in Unwilling isolation, was rocked by these swift tides of misfortune. Where moments of peace had lingered before, there was only turmoil now.

His eyes flicked towards his reflection as he rose from the toilet, unable to escape his own reality. An unnerving snake tattoo encircled his left eye, its stark details highlighted with unsettling clarity against the pallor of his face. 

Just like all magical beings, he too woke up with a birthmark when the wards fell, an indelible emblem of an irreparable cataclysm. Unbeknownst to them, the magical shields that surrounded their world had been draining their magic. 

With the fall of the wards, they tasted the full extent of their power for the first time, a bitter-sweet revelation that came with a tinge of agony - the gnawing revelation of how they had been shackled all along.

In the mirror, Harry gazed at his reflection grimly. His emerald eyes, once burning with the fire of retaliation, looked worn out. Yet, he could see resilience flickering on the edges of those familiar green orbs.

Brushing his teeth Harry left the bathroom and moved down the stairs silently. He pondered on how the muggles started treating the wizards. At first they seemed to be amazed at what they could do.

But old habits started to rear its ugly head. People calling for the "death to the aliens" The Dursleys were apart if this 'Club' if you could call it one. 

The days after that were hell. Aunt Petunia tried placing makeup to cover his scar. It just burned the makeup off leaving a horrible smell behind.

Fortunately he was going to visit Ron and Hermoine very soon. He wanted to comfort Ron but he was stuck here at this hell hole. After what's now being called the collision. His magic started growing a personality. It snapped out at the Dursleys in uncontrolled waves of anger. It felt like Harry would drown if he didn't get a hold of it 'pull back the reins' if you will.

*

Harry got off the bus that dropped him off a street away from Eden's Orphanage somewhere located in downtown London. Instead of placing him to the closest orphanage he was placed in one that sat close to where his friends live. The hope was that the parents would be more willing to let their kids go if it wasn't too out of the way.

The entrance to Eden's Orphanage was an imposing stone structure. It was located at the end of a narrow cobblestone road, flanked on either side by tall hedges. The windows were lined with iron bars, giving the building an ominous feel.

Inside, the halls were lined with polished oak floors, and the rooms were furnished with comfortable beds and cozy rugs. A library took up a large portion of the ground floor, housing an extensive collection of books, which were carefully catalogued and maintained by the staff.

While Eden's was an imposing and intimidating structure from the outside, the inside was warm and welcoming. There was an inviting lounge with a roaring fireplace, and a kitchen filled with delicious aromas from the hearty meals prepared daily.

Going up stairs Harry was lead by Madam Vixen the one who would take care of his papers. The dark green carpet did a good job at absorbing sound. With his destination up ahead, Harry was guided to Ron's room.

Upon reaching the door they were greeted by Ron sitting up on his bed. He looked at the two curiously before realizing who was with the lady. Harry and Ron meet eye to eye both starting off with their own greeting.

The conversation soon lulled into a comfortable silence with Harry not wanting to bring up the incident to soon. But it seemed that Ron was thinking the same thing with his eye contact refusing to stay fixed at harry for too long.

The air in the room was thick and charged. The boys seemed to be navigating their conversation with an almost palpable unease, avoiding eye contact and dancing around the truth of their situation.

Harry decided to brake the silence with the question that had been weighing on his mind, "Ron how are you?" Harry said softly, his eyes drifting away from his friends. "You were there when your parents died. It couldn't have been easy on you."

Ron snorted, a sharp and unexpected sound in the delicate balance that had formed in the room. "How do I feel? Well, if I were to give my honest assessment. It's shit! Not everything has been sunshine and rainbows. In fact things are shit now. Who is going to protect me now? You? Dumbledore?"

" I had to burn their bodies, Harry. Burn the bodies of my family. Who does that? You know what the worst part about it was? Their clothes are fine. Even my Fathers' Watch was alright. And with their dead bodies gone I have the only things I can hold dear in this shit world!"

Ron cried his face wet with tears. They were rolling in silent rivers down his freckled face, pooling at the edge of his chin, their shimmering translucency a testament to their vulnerability and their heartbreak. He could hear his voice faltering, a raw, guttural sob wrenched from the depth of his soul.

Harry approached Ron slowly, carefully, with the deference and reverence due one whose grief ran deep and heavy. The gap between them closed. He embraced Ron in a warm hug. He was as fragile and brittle as an autumn leaf.

"Ron, whatever happened was not your fault. You've suffered enough as is. The best thing we can do is get stronger and stay alive,"

Harry said softly, his arms tightening protectively around Ron's back. "perhaps you would want to get your mind of things? We could go out and hang out of course only if you want to"! Harry rushed the last part of his sentence.

Ron sniffs a little bit "Sure mate why not."