The Slytherin common room glimmered beneath the shifting green light of the Black Lake as evening settled heavily over Hogwarts. Shadows of passing squid tentacles drifted lazily across the tall underwater windows while the fire crackled softly within the enormous stone hearth. The room carried its usual atmosphere of elegant quietness, though tonight the calm felt almost studious rather than cold. Several students worked on essays near the bookshelves while others played wizard chess beside the fire. The occasional hiss of parchment turning or low murmur of conversation blended naturally with the rhythmic sound of lake water pressing faintly against enchanted glass. A storm threatened somewhere far above the castle, visible only through the darker currents shifting beyond the windows. The air smelled faintly of cedarwood, old parchment, ink, and the lingering traces of peppermint tea. In one corner of the room, Mira sat cross-legged upon the large rug before the fireplace, completely surrounded by parchment scrolls, floating diagrams, enchanted maps, and half-written proposals hovering gently around her like orbiting moons.
Draco paused midway down the staircase upon seeing the scene.
He stared for several long seconds.
Then sighed.
“Should I even ask,” he drawled slowly, “or have you already decided to reorganize the entire international education system again?”
Theo snorted from nearby without looking up from his book.
Daphne hid a smile behind her teacup.
Mira looked up immediately, silver-white hair slipping across her shoulder as several floating parchments rotated around her. There was ink smudged faintly against one side of her hand and a tiny streak along her cheek where she had clearly forgotten she was touching her face while writing. Draco noticed both things instantly. For some reason, the sight amused him far more than it should have.
“I’m working,” Mira informed him with mock seriousness.
“That,” Draco replied while eyeing the sheer mountain of parchment surrounding her, “was unfortunately obvious.”
Mira huffed softly before gesturing for him to sit beside her. Draco settled onto the rug with practiced ease while carefully moving several floating diagrams out of his face. One parchment immediately attempted drifting back toward him until Mira absently redirected it with a flick of her fingers. The firelight reflected warmly across her bright teal eyes while she organized another stack of notes. Draco watched her quietly for a moment first. He had begun recognizing this particular expression over the past two years. It was the look Mira wore whenever an idea had fully rooted itself inside her mind and refused to let go until she transformed it into reality.
Which usually meant the rest of magical society was about to change somehow.
“What kind of proposal is it this time?” Draco finally asked.
Mira’s expression brightened instantly, “The International Magical School Festival.”
Draco blinked once.
Then twice, “…The what?”
Mira sat up straighter immediately, excitement softening her voice into something brighter and warmer. “An international event for magical schools,” she explained while pulling one parchment toward them. “Not just for diplomats or Ministry officials. For families. Children. Students from all years.” Her fingers traced across an enchanted map where glowing points marked magical schools across the world. “The idea is to let children explore different schools before deciding where they want to attend.” She glanced toward Draco thoughtfully. “A lot of children only know the school nearest to them. Some don’t even realize they have options.”
Draco leaned slightly closer despite himself.
The enchanted map shifted beautifully beneath the firelight as Mira pointed toward each glowing location one by one.
“Hogwarts for Britain,” she began softly. “Beauxbatons for France. Durmstrang representing Northern Europe. Ilvermorny for North America. Uagadou for Africa. Mahoutokoro for Japan. Castelobruxo for Brazil. Koldovstoretz for Eastern Europe.” 8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3ZFBck7xnJ
Each school symbol expanded briefly when touched, displaying miniature illusions of towers, classrooms, uniforms, magical creatures, and surrounding landscapes. Draco found himself unexpectedly captivated watching them.
Mira continued quietly, “Each school would have its own magical pavilion. Families and children could walk through them freely. Professors or prefects from the schools would answer questions directly instead of leaving everything to rumors or Ministry pamphlets.” Another parchment unfurled itself beside them showing sketches of elaborate festival grounds filled with banners and glowing walkways. “The Snitch Cameras could project classes, sporting events, festivals, dormitories, and lessons from each school in real time.” Her eyes brightened further as she spoke. “The schools could demonstrate unique magic styles too. Friendly competitions. Cultural performances. Traditional foods. Creature studies. Dueling demonstrations.”
Theo finally lowered his book completely, “…You planned all that already?”
“A little,” Mira admitted.
“A little?” Daphne echoed incredulously.
The floating parchments surrounding Mira suddenly reorganized themselves automatically into neat categories. One section detailed transportation logistics. Another listed magical security measures. Another outlined translation charms for international visitors. Draco stared at the amount of preparation in disbelief.
“You’ve been thinking about this for weeks, haven’t you?” he asked slowly.
Mira hesitated, “…Maybe.”
“That means yes,” Blaise remarked dryly from the sofa.
The fire crackled softly while the underwater light shifted emerald across the room. Outside the windows, silver fish darted through dark currents like living stars. Mira carefully lifted another parchment and handed it toward Draco. This one displayed a large circular festival layout enchanted with moving illustrations. Each school pavilion reflected architectural styles unique to their cultures. Beauxbatons shimmered with crystalline blue arches and enchanted gardens. Durmstrang’s pavilion resembled carved blackwood halls lined with rune-fire braziers. Mahoutokoro floated partially above the ground beneath swirling sakura petals while Uagadou’s enormous pavilion merged seamlessly with illusionary mountains and constellations.
Draco studied the designs silently.
“They’re beautiful,” he admitted quietly.
Mira smiled faintly at that.
“The festival wouldn’t just be about recruitment,” she explained after a moment. “It would help magical communities interact with each other more openly. Students could learn how other cultures approach magic.” Her expression softened thoughtfully. “Some schools specialize in things Hogwarts barely teaches. Uagadou focuses heavily on astronomy and wandless magic. Mahoutokoro teaches atmospheric magic and spirit harmony. Castelobruxo emphasizes magical ecology and creature conservation.” She glanced toward Draco again. “Children deserve the chance to discover where they belong best.”
Draco looked at her for a very long time after that.
Because that was always the heart of Mira’s ideas.
Not prestige.
Not recognition.
Belonging.
He leaned back slightly against the sofa beside the fire while studying her scattered notes again. “You realize this would become enormous,” he murmured. “International Ministries would get involved. School governors. Diplomats.” His silver eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “And there are families who won’t like children being encouraged to leave traditional schooling paths.”
“I know,” Mira answered calmly.
“But you’re going to do it anyway.”
“Yes.”
Draco’s lips twitched faintly upward.
Of course she was.
Daphne carefully picked up another parchment nearby. “You even included first-year adjustment programs for exchange students,” she observed softly.
Mira nodded immediately. “Some children struggle with cultural transitions. Especially muggleborns or sanctuary children.” She paused briefly before adding more quietly, “If they’re already nervous about magic, unfamiliar customs can make everything harder.”
For a few moments, silence settled comfortably around the group.
Not empty silence.
Thinking silence.
The fire popped softly while reflections from the Black Lake drifted across the ceiling overhead. Somewhere deeper within the common room, younger students laughed over a chess match. Yet near the hearth, the atmosphere had shifted into something quieter and strangely emotional.
Theo finally spoke first.
“You know,” he said slowly, “most people our age are worried about homework or Quidditch rankings.”
Mira blinked innocently. “I worry about Quidditch too.”
“That is not the point.”
Blaise chuckled softly under his breath.
Draco watched Mira reorganize another stack of parchment while absentmindedly brushing ink from her fingers. She looked entirely serious about this. Entirely committed already. And somehow, despite how absurdly ambitious the idea sounded, Draco could already imagine it happening. He could picture magical families from around the world wandering through enchanted pavilions beneath floating banners. Children discovering schools they never knew existed. Different magical cultures learning from one another instead of remaining isolated behind politics and tradition.
Because when Mira imagined something, she rarely imagined halfway.
“You’re going to present this to Dumbledore,” Draco realized aloud.
“And Lucius and Theodric,” Mira added.
Draco groaned dramatically, “My father is going to start carrying stress-relief potions specifically because of you.”
Mira laughed then.
Softly at first.
Then fully.
The sound warmed the common room far more effectively than the fire ever could.
The circular meeting room adjoining Dumbledore’s office glowed warmly beneath enchanted lanterns suspended from dark wooden beams overhead. Tall arched windows stood partially open to the spring evening, allowing cool air scented with rain-soaked stone and blooming ivy to drift softly through the chamber. Candlelight flickered across shelves lined with ancient magical texts while silver instruments hummed quietly atop nearby cabinets. The room itself felt unusually crowded tonight. Dumbledore sat at the head of the long oak table with his fingers loosely folded together, his half-moon spectacles glinting beneath the warm light. Beside him sat McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Snape, and Remus Lupin, each surrounded by parchment and teacups. Across from them were Lucius Malfoy and Theodric Rowlehart, both dressed impeccably as always though visibly bracing themselves for whatever Mira intended to unveil tonight. Draco sat near the middle of the table beside Mira with the faint expression of someone who already knew the scale of the incoming chaos.
Which he did.
That was precisely why he looked mildly resigned already.
Mira entered carrying an enormous tray first.
Not parchment.
Not diagrams.
Tea.
Everyone blinked in confusion as she carefully began placing steaming cups before each person seated at the table. The fragrance immediately filled the room—lavender, mint, jasmine, honeyroot, and moonleaf blending into something deeply calming. Even Snape’s perpetually guarded expression shifted almost imperceptibly at the quality of the brew. The tea itself shimmered faintly silver beneath the candlelight while soft curls of enchanted steam drifted upward in delicate spirals.
Lucius eyed the cup cautiously.
“…Should I be concerned?” he asked dryly.
“Yes,” Draco answered before Mira could speak.
Mira shot him an offended look.
“It’s stress-relief tea,” she informed the room with complete seriousness. “Because once I explain the proposal, some of you may require emotional support.”
A stunned silence followed.
Then Flitwick burst into laughter so abruptly he nearly spilled his tea. Even McGonagall’s lips twitched visibly while Theodric covered his mouth with one hand to hide an amused smile. Lucius slowly pinched the bridge of his nose as though mentally preparing himself for impact already.
Dumbledore looked delighted, “How thoughtful of you, my dear.”
Snape took a long sip immediately.
Possibly out of self-preservation.
Mira waited patiently until everyone had tea before finally setting a thick stack of parchment upon the center of the table. The moment her fingers touched the top page, the documents unfolded automatically into floating enchanted projections. Miniature glowing pavilions rose gently above the table surface while illusionary banners unfurled overhead displaying magical schools from across the world. Tiny moving figures wandered through projected festival grounds while enchanted pathways lit up beneath them like stars.
The room quieted almost instantly.
Dumbledore’s eyes sharpened with immediate interest.
Mira inhaled slowly before beginning, “I would like to propose the International Magical School Festival.”
The floating projections expanded beautifully across the chamber as she spoke. Hogwarts rose first in miniature form with glowing towers and floating staircases. Beside it appeared Beauxbatons surrounded by crystalline gardens and silver fountains. Durmstrang emerged cloaked in rune-fire and dark northern architecture while Ilvermorny shimmered atop mountainous cliffs beneath enchanted stars. One by one, the remaining schools manifested above the table—Uagadou woven into vast celestial landscapes, Mahoutokoro surrounded by drifting sakura petals and stormlight, Castelobruxo blooming within luminous jungle canopies, and Koldovstoretz standing beneath dancing auroras and snow-covered spires.
Several professors visibly leaned forward.
Even Snape looked genuinely intrigued despite himself.
“The festival would allow magical families and students from all years to explore schools internationally before deciding where they wish to study,” Mira explained steadily. “Each school would send representatives—professors, prefects, or ambassadors—to answer questions directly rather than relying on Ministry pamphlets or rumor.” She gestured gently and the projections shifted again. “Every school would host magical pavilions showcasing their classes, culture, traditions, magical specialties, dormitories, and student life.”
The Snitch Camera projections activated next.
Tiny floating screens appeared overhead displaying illusionary recordings of classrooms, magical dueling exercises, creature studies, enchanted libraries, and school festivals from different academies. Uagadou students practiced wandless levitation magic beneath the night sky. Mahoutokoro students controlled weather currents high above sea cliffs. Castelobruxo students worked alongside magical creatures within enchanted rainforests while Durmstrang duelists practiced advanced rune combat techniques across frozen lakes.
Remus watched silently, deeply impressed.
This was not merely a festival.
It was educational reform on an international scale.
Mira continued while another set of projections unfolded overhead. “The schools would also host food exhibitions, cultural performances, magical demonstrations, and friendly competitions.” Tiny, enchanted scenes shifted rapidly through the air above them. Beauxbatons students performed elegant illusion magic while Hogwarts students competed in strategic spellcraft exercises. Uagadou students manipulated constellations through astronomy magic while Mahoutokoro demonstrated spirit harmony rituals beside glowing paper lanterns.
Sprout looked openly enchanted by the concept already.
Flitwick nearly vibrated with excitement.
Lucius, meanwhile, had gone unusually still.
Draco recognized the expression immediately.
His father was calculating.
Not rejecting.
Calculating.
“The festival would encourage cultural exchange,” Mira explained more softly now. “Children deserve to understand that magic exists differently across the world. Some schools specialize in magic Hogwarts barely teaches.” Her gaze drifted thoughtfully across the room. “And some children might thrive better in environments more suited to their needs, traditions, or magical strengths.”
McGonagall folded her hands carefully atop the table.
“You are proposing,” she said slowly, “that magical education become globally accessible rather than regionally restrictive.”
“Yes.”
The room fell briefly silent again.
Rain tapped softly against the windows now while the lantern light flickered gently overhead. The floating projections reflected across everyone’s faces in shifting colors and moving patterns. Dumbledore watched Mira quietly with unmistakable admiration lingering behind his thoughtful expression. She was twelve years old and discussing international educational infrastructure as though proposing ordinary homework adjustments.
And somehow, impossibly, the proposal made sense.
Theodric Rowlehart finally spoke first.
“The logistics alone would be staggering,” he murmured thoughtfully.
“I already drafted transportation systems,” Mira replied immediately.
Lucius closed his eyes briefly.
Of course she had.
Mira waved one hand and several additional parchments unfolded automatically. International Floo connections, portkey regulations, translation charms, security protocols, emergency healer stations, magical creature accommodations, exchange housing systems, and multilingual information booths filled the air around them in organized glowing diagrams.
Snape slowly lowered his teacup, “…How long have you been planning this?”
Mira hesitated.
Draco answered for her, “Long enough that I started worrying she’d accidentally establish a second Ministry.”
That earned several muffled laughs around the room.
Even Lucius smirked faintly despite himself.
Dumbledore rose slowly from his seat then, robes shifting softly around him as he walked nearer the floating projections. The miniature schools rotated gently in the air before him while illusionary students from around the world moved through the magical festival grounds Mira had imagined. For several moments, he simply observed in silence.
Then he smiled, “It is extraordinary.”
Mira blinked once.
Not because of praise.
Because she heard sincerity in it.
Dumbledore turned back toward the others thoughtfully. “For centuries, magical schools have remained largely isolated from one another except during rare diplomatic events.” His eyes moved toward the glowing pavilions. “But this… this would allow children to see possibility rather than limitation.”
Flitwick nodded eagerly. “The educational benefits alone would be remarkable.”
“And politically influential,” Lucius added quietly.
Everyone glanced toward him.
Lucius folded his hands calmly atop the table while studying the projections carefully. “If implemented correctly, this could strengthen international cooperation for generations.” His blue grey gaze shifted briefly toward Mira. “Children raised understanding one another are far less likely to inherit needless prejudice.”
The words settled heavily within the room.
Especially coming from Lucius Malfoy.
Mira noticed Draco glance sideways toward his father with visible surprise.
Theodric nodded slowly afterward. “Families would appreciate being allowed informed choices regarding magical education.” He paused thoughtfully. “Especially sanctuary children, hybrids, and international magical families.”
Remus looked quietly moved hearing that spoken aloud so naturally.
Mira finally relaxed slightly in her chair after nearly an hour of explanation and discussion. The floating projections gradually dimmed around the room while teacups emptied steadily beside stacks of notes. Outside the windows, rain continued falling softly against the dark spring night.
Then McGonagall spoke gently, “Miss Silverthorne.”
Mira looked up immediately.
McGonagall’s stern expression softened almost imperceptibly. “Do you ever intend to stop rebuilding magical society?”
The room went quiet.
Mira blinked once in surprise.
Then, very softly, she answered honestly, “…Not really.”
For several seconds, silence lingered.
Then Dumbledore laughed warmly.
And one by one, everyone else did too.
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and then Add to home screen.