Ilvermorny, United States.
Nestled atop the highest peak of Mount Greylock, Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood as the heart of magical learning in North America. With its grand, castle-like structures, towering spires, and vast magical landscapes, Ilvermorny mirrored the prestige of Hogwarts while carrying its own unique legacy.
For centuries, it had been the cradle of American wizardry, nurturing generations of spellcasters and producing some of the finest magical minds in the world.
But now—
Now, it had become something more.
Under Grindelwald's dominion, Ilvermorny had transformed into the headquarters of the Saints.
Gone were the days when it simply served as a school; it was now a fortress, a training ground where the next generation of magical revolutionaries was forged.
Within its grand halls, powerful Saints walked as professors, imparting knowledge to students who had been hand-picked for their potential, their ambition, and their willingness to embrace the vision of a new world.
Yet, among all the courses offered at Ilvermorny, there was one that stood above the rest.
A course so vital, so critical to the foundation of this new order, that Grindelwald himself took on the role of instructor.
A course known simply as—
Meditation.
Ilvermorny Grounds – Meditation Class
On the vast emerald-green field that stretched beyond the school, hundreds of students sat cross-legged in disciplined silence, their gazes locked onto the figure before them.
Behind them stood several elite Saints, powerful wizards who had long sworn their allegiance to Grindelwald. Though their ranks were filled with veterans, they too listened intently, knowing that every word spoken today was a glimpse into the future of wizardkind.
Standing at the forefront, Grindelwald raised his wand.
With a mere flick, a sapphire-blue flame erupted into the air, twisting and morphing into shifting shapes—images of ancient symbols, celestial diagrams, and mystical runes.
His voice, smooth as silk and rich with authority, resonated through the air.
"Meditation is not simply a method of strengthening one's magic. It is a means of reshaping the very nature of a wizard's spiritual power."
The flames wove themselves into intricate letters and pictures, illuminating his words.
"When enough wizards practice a particular meditation method, their spiritual power begins to converge—aligning in nature, harmonizing in structure."
"And with convergence… comes transformation."
A ripple of energy spread through the crowd, as if his very words carried weight beyond the physical.
The students' eyes widened in realization, and even the seasoned Saints standing behind them listened with rapt attention.
Meditation had already begun to spread like wildfire among wizards, whispered about in the highest circles of power. It was said to hold the key to strength, longevity, and enlightenment—a path that even the likes of Dumbledore and Grindelwald had only begun to explore.
But for the students gathered here, this was not just theory.
This was opportunity.
Grindelwald, seeing their burning curiosity, continued, his voice unwavering.
"We stand at the dawn of a new age—a time when magic is no longer dictated by bloodline or raw talent alone. Through meditation, even the weakest wizard can forge power beyond their natural limits."
"New methods will emerge—methods tailored for alchemy, magical creatures, potioneering, dueling, even Divination. Specialized meditations will become the stepping stones for wizards seeking mastery in any field."
"Where once talent was an insurmountable barrier, meditation will become the great equalizer."
His silver-white eyes gleamed with an almost prophetic intensity.
"Imagine a world where wizards do not merely dabble in magic, but become one with it. Where those who were once destined to mediocrity can rise as giants. Where knowledge is no longer hoarded by the few, but forged anew by those willing to seize it."
"That, my students… is the future."
Silence followed his words—
A deep, weighty silence, the kind that only followed a revelation too vast to fully comprehend.
Then—
A spark ignited.
A fire of ambition swept through the students like a storm, their bodies trembling with the sheer magnitude of the vision laid before them.
Their leader, their beacon of change, was handing them the keys to a new world.
For young wizards on the cusp of their future, there was no greater gift than the chance to be the ones who shaped history.
Their eyes, once filled with youthful uncertainty, now blazed with purpose.
Grindelwald watched, satisfied.
And the vortex in the sky responded.
A transparent spiral of energy had begun to form above the students, unseen by all but Grindelwald himself.
It was not his doing.
It was the will of fate itself, gathering the dispersed fragments of ambition from his followers and funneling it into a single point in destiny.
His Eye of Fate, a power beyond conventional sight, allowed him to witness its mechanics firsthand.
Yet, even with his extraordinary gifts, Grindelwald knew—
Fate was not something that could be shaped by one man alone.
That was why he had gathered the Saints.
That was why he had cultivated the next generation.
That was why he had built Ilvermorny into the heart of the new order.
"A single wizard's will is finite," he mused silently, "but a generation's will is unstoppable."
Returning his focus to the lesson, Grindelwald shifted the topic.
"As I mentioned before, meditation will shape all aspects of the wizarding world."
"And combat… is no exception."
A shudder rippled through the students.
"Future Aurors, future enforcers of magical law, future warriors—they will all wield meditation as their primary weapon."
"The way wizards engage in battle will change."
"And nothing will shape this change more than joint spellcasting."
The memory of a past battle flickered in Grindelwald's mind.
The students of Kamar Taj…
A coordinated spell—an ocean of flames consuming an entire battlefield.
Even as a master of magic, he had been momentarily impressed.
They had been mere students, yet together, they had wielded the destructive force of an army.
That, he realized, was the future.
Not singular titans ruling from their ivory towers.
But organizations, unified magical forces, entire battalions of wizards who moved as one.
It was both thrilling…
And dangerous.
"The importance of wizard factions will grow. Lone wizards will become relics of the past. The age of isolated spellcasters is ending."
"It is the era of unity, of power in numbers, of magic forged through collective will."
A slow, satisfied smile played on Grindelwald's lips.
The world was about to change.
And he was going to lead the charge.
However—
Suddenly, a sharp sensation pricked at the edges of his consciousness.
Something had shifted.
An important piece of his gameboard had been wiped away.
His gaze sharpened.
His right pupil shimmered silver-white as destiny unveiled itself before him.
A vision materialized—
A platform.
A fire dragon.
A vault.
A wizard.
And then, like a whisper carried by the wind, a familiar voice reached his ears.
"Grindelwald, instead of coming to me, you went and target my student Wanda."
"What exactly do you intend to do?"
==============================================
Support me at [email protected]/goldengaruda and check out more chapter of this or more early access chapter of my other fanfic translation.
=============================================