Chapter 15
“...The modern Magical Congress of the United States of America (MACUSA) operates under a bicameral system that incorporates representatives from all fifty states, ensuring that the vast diversity of magical cultures, traditions, and practices within the nation is represented. Each state elects two representatives, one male and one female, resulting in a total of 100 representatives who work alongside the MACUSA President and their cabinet. This governing body collaborates with the non-magical government’s President and cabinet to maintain order and cooperation between the two societies. The structure of MACUSA reflects the complex nature of American magical governance, as it must balance state autonomy with federal oversight while addressing both domestic and international concerns within the magical world.”
“Given the immense variation in magical customs across the United States, MACUSA functions as a melting pot of ideologies, practices, and governance styles. Some states adhere to strict magical regulations, while others are more lenient in their magical applications, leading to frequent negotiations and compromises within the Congress. This diversity often leads to heated debates over issues such as magical education standards, international trade of magical goods, and the ethical use of magical creatures in various industries. However, one of the consistent and overriding concerns is the containment and management of supernatural threats—most notably the Sanguisuge menace. The Rentier Institute serves as an external watchdog over MACUSA, ensuring that the organization does not fall under the influence of these predatory entities. Due to the Institute’s military expertise and deep knowledge of supernatural entities, it frequently cooperates with MACUSA’s law enforcement divisions, particularly the Department of Magical Security, to eliminate emerging threats.”
“Historically, the first Blood War ended with Jesse Rentier’s decisive action in eliminating Felicity D’Abano at the Chesterfield Opera House, saving then non-magical President Grover Cleaveland.. This event brought the Rentier Institute into the awareness of MACUSA, prompting them to closely monitor the Institute’s activities. However, it wasn’t until fifteen years later that tensions escalated dramatically when Ilvermorny was overtaken by a wizard-turned-Sanguisuge, leading to the conversion of nearly 80% of the student body into familiars. The resulting crisis was catastrophic for the American magical world, as it not only destroyed one of the most prestigious wizarding schools in North America but also exposed significant weaknesses in MACUSA’s security apparatus. Jesse Rentier and his wife, Olivia Rentier (née Florence of Utah), led a brutal assault on the corrupted school in 1910, ultimately destroying Ilvermorny and eradicating the Sanguisuge infestation. This event led MACUSA to launch the infamous "Obliviator Hunts" that lasted until 1912, during which suspected supernatural sympathizers were aggressively pursued and, in many cases, forcibly removed from positions of influence within magical society.”
As Professor Adams concluded this segment of his lecture, he allowed his students time to record notes within the grand halls of his class building at Nāga-Kṣetra Vidyalaya. The classroom, adorned with intricate carvings depicting legendary magical battles and cultural symbols from various traditions, served as an inspiring setting for the lesson. Among the students was Harry Potter, now fourteen years old and in his fifth year at the institution. This year’s curriculum focused on the history of MACUSA and its unique relationship with the United States, particularly in how the Rentier Institute’s war against the supernatural effectively exposed the magical world to the non-magical American government. This exposure, while controversial, led to increased cooperation between the two worlds, though not without significant resistance from more traditionalist factions within MACUSA who opposed any form of collaboration with non-magical authorities.
"Now, does anyone want to explain how these hunts were started then were finally brought to an end?" Professor Adams posed the question to the class, scanning the room before selecting Pavarti Patil, who had raised her hand.
"The Obliviator Hunts started when the Oblivation department of the former MACUSA government tried to mass obliviate all of America. The Rentier Institute caught wind of this when an Obliviator agent was caught in the bedroom of the Rentier Family, trying to Obliviate Olivia. Jesse Rentier stopped this before the Institute started hunting magicals that wore the robes of that department. It was ended when the Rentier Institute stormed the MACUSA headquarters. Specifically, Alexander Gravener Rentier, son of Jesse Rentier, led an incursion into the MACUSA government building to dismantle its leadership. This, however, forced the Institute and the non-magical government of the time to try and rebuild the MACUSA during the First World War. Thankfully, modern day MACUSA was reconstructed from the ground up with the combined efforts of the Rentier Institute and then-President Woodrow Wilson. The new structure emphasizes cooperation between magical and non-magical institutions, ensuring that future conflicts with supernatural entities could be handled in a more coordinated manner." Pavarti answered confidently.
Professor Adams nodded in approval. "Correct. These changes led directly into the Second Blood War, instigated by a coalition of Dark Wizards and the Sanguisuge. As a result, the American magical community once again found itself in a protracted battle against supernatural forces, ultimately culminating in their involvement in the First World War. This era saw the rise of several key figures in magical history, including strategists, warriors, and diplomats who helped reshape the landscape of magical governance in America. Now, let’s examine the structure of the newly reformed MACUSA government and its impact on contemporary magical politics."
There was a bell that sounded, which ended the class, much to the sounds of the groaning students as Professor Adams smiled, “None of that now, we’ll continue the lesson later as you all know. I want you to come back ready to learn the deeper workings of the MACUSA government and various different states that fill its ranks.”
Harry walked with Padma and Parvati Patil toward the mangrove section of the city, where powerful magical wards seamlessly connected to his and Nagini’s home. Their conversation, still centered on the lesson about MACUSA’s history, deepened as they considered how magical governance differed across the world. The more they learned, the clearer it became that every magical society had its own struggles and compromises.
"MACUSA is nothing like the Ministry of Magic," Harry said, his brow furrowed in thought. "The British Ministry and the ICW always tried to keep everything hidden, acting like nothing supernatural existed beyond wizards and magical creatures. But MACUSA—and especially the Rentier Institute—actively fought against those things. It’s strange to think about how different their priorities are."
Parvati adjusted her book bag and nodded. "It makes sense, though. Magic in America has always been more chaotic because every state has its own rules and traditions. MACUSA has to find a way to keep them all working together, which isn’t easy when their magical communities are so different from one another."
Padma, always the analytical one, added, "That’s why the Rentier Institute has so much power. They make sure MACUSA doesn’t get taken over by supernatural forces. They were even willing to overthrow the government once. That shows just how serious they are about maintaining order. But it also means MACUSA has to be careful not to let them get too powerful."
Harry sighed, kicking a loose stone on the path. "I get that they needed to act, but it’s still a scary thought. An entire magical school was destroyed because of that war. Sure, Hogwarts has been through battles, but nothing on that scale. Ilvermorny was wiped out, and it took them decades to rebuild a proper magical education system. Can you imagine if something like that happened to us?"
Parvati gave him a pointed look. "Like we don’t have our own problems? The magical world is never peaceful, no matter where you go. You of all people should know that. Conflicts between magical factions are always bubbling under the surface."
As they reached the mangrove section, the scenery transformed. Towering trees with twisted, sprawling roots created a natural barrier, their thick branches weaving together like protective arms. The bark of the largest trees shimmered faintly with glowing runes, pulsing in time with the warding magic that protected this part of the city. The scent of salt, damp earth, and rich greenery filled the air, and the distant sound of water gently lapping against the mangrove roots created a soothing, rhythmic backdrop.
A massive hollowed-out mangrove tree stood before them, its interior converted into a beautifully crafted home for the Patil twins. Soft lantern light glowed through curved wooden windows, casting warm, golden light onto the surrounding vegetation. Vines draped over the entrance like natural curtains, and flowers in vibrant shades of orange and blue bloomed from the carefully maintained garden surrounding the base of the tree. It looked cozy, welcoming—almost like something out of a storybook.
Parvati turned to him with a teasing smirk. "Are you sure you don’t want a real roof over your head, Harry? We’ve got space. You don’t have to play ‘wild jungle boy’ all the time."
Harry chuckled and shook his head. "No thanks. I like sleeping outside. It feels more natural, and I can keep an eye on things better that way. I’ve never been one for walls and roofs."
Padma rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Just don’t start complaining when the rainy season hits and you wake up soaked to the bone. You might love the jungle, but even you can’t escape a monsoon."
Harry grinned, unconcerned. "I’ll figure something out. Maybe Nagini will let me curl up with her if it gets too bad."
Parvati laughed. "I doubt it. She likes her space more than you do."
They walked a little further, enjoying the tranquil atmosphere. Small, luminescent insects hovered in the air, flitting between the flowering vines and hovering near the softly glowing runes. The mangrove section of the city was unlike any other—alive with both natural and magical energy, an ecosystem in perfect harmony with its inhabitants.
"It’s strange, isn’t it?" Padma mused. "How different this place is from everything we’ve ever known. We’re being trained for a world that doesn’t follow the same rules as Britain’s magical society."
Harry nodded. "Yeah. But maybe that’s a good thing. If I had stayed in Britain, I wouldn’t have gotten to decide what kind of wizard I want to be."
Parvati smiled. "Well, whatever you decide, you’re stuck with us now."
Albus Dumbledore sat in the stately meeting chamber of the British Ministry of Magic, his twinkling blue eyes scanning the assembled dignitaries with quiet interest. The air in the room carried the weight of diplomacy, an intricate dance of politics and international collaboration. The polished mahogany table, adorned with Ministry seals and enchanted quills, served as the focal point for the discussion, a place where words could shape the future of magical relations.
At the head of the table, Cornelius Fudge, the British Minister for Magic, adjusted his ever-present bowler hat and straightened his deep green robes. His fingers drummed anxiously on the table, betraying his nerves. To his right, Samuel Prescott, the President of MACUSA, sat with the air of a man accustomed to authority. He was sharp-eyed, his movements precise, his demeanor exuding the structured efficiency for which American magical governance was known. Seated next to him was Headmaster Jonathan Whitmore of Rentier-Cleveland University, one of the most formidable magical institutions in the United States, its curriculum renowned for its emphasis on practical magic, supernatural combat training, and historical studies of magical warfare.
Across the table, the South Korean delegation sat in composed silence. Minister Choi Sang-woo, a man of careful deliberation and diplomatic finesse, had his hands clasped before him, his crisp robes immaculately pressed. He was a statesman of keen intellect, known for his methodical leadership within South Korea’s magical government. Beside him sat Headmaster Park Hyun-seok of Gwaneum Academy of Sorcery, a school famous for its rigorous training in martial magic, spiritual discipline, and its seamless fusion of Eastern magical traditions. He sat with an unreadable expression, his eyes keenly observing the proceedings without offering much in the way of visible reaction.
Dumbledore, ever the mediator, folded his hands before him, his expression warm and diplomatic. The matter at hand was the Triwizard Tournament, an event of great historical significance. Designed as a means of fostering international magical cooperation, the tournament had seen centuries of competition among Europe’s most prestigious magical schools. However, the landscape had changed. Durmstrang Institute and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, two of the tournament’s traditional competitors, had formally declined to participate. A great shame, Dumbledore mused, but not an insurmountable obstacle. In their place, Gwaneum Academy and Rentier-Cleveland University had agreed to enter the competition.
While some at the Ministry had viewed this as a setback, Dumbledore saw potential. The inclusion of these two powerful institutions presented a unique opportunity—an exchange of magical philosophies that would challenge Hogwarts’ students in ways they had never experienced. Rentier-Cleveland, with its pragmatic approach to magic and battle-hardened curriculum, would introduce a level of calculated aggression and practical defense that Hogwarts students rarely encountered. On the other hand, Gwaneum Academy’s focus on martial magic and spiritual harmony would provide a stark contrast, emphasizing balance, precision, and control.
Fudge had taken the floor, his voice carrying the usual pomposity as he outlined the logistics of integrating the new competitors into Hogwarts. He spoke at length about security concerns, lodging arrangements, and the scheduling of the events. Prescott listened carefully, his fingers tapping out a rhythmic beat on the table, an absent-minded habit that revealed his mind was already working ahead. Minister Choi, ever composed, posed several measured questions regarding safety measures and the magical contracts that would bind the tournament’s participants. Headmaster Park, though silent for much of the discussion, nodded occasionally, his presence alone commanding respect.
Dumbledore allowed himself a small smile, leaning back slightly in his chair as he steepled his fingers. This meeting, he mused, was merely the first in a long series of international negotiations. The Triwizard Tournament, though a competition in name, would serve as much more than a showcase of magical prowess. It would be a proving ground for alliances, a stage upon which the next generation of witches and wizards would forge relationships that could shape the future of magical cooperation. And, of course, it was an opportunity for each school to demonstrate its unique strengths.
His gaze flickered briefly to Prescott, who had finally spoken, his deep voice carrying the unmistakable authority of a man accustomed to command. "MACUSA sees this as an important step toward strengthening transatlantic relations. Rentier-Cleveland has a reputation to uphold, and we don’t take our commitments lightly. Rest assured, our students will enter this tournament with the same level of discipline and readiness that has made our institution a pillar of magical education."
Minister Choi responded in kind, his tone calm but firm. "Gwaneum Academy has trained sorcerers for centuries, and we believe this tournament will serve as a valuable learning experience for all involved. However, our focus is not solely on competition—we seek mutual understanding between our students and yours. The world of magic is vast, and collaboration is the key to growth."
Dumbledore nodded approvingly. "Indeed. If history has taught us anything, it is that cooperation between magical institutions strengthens us all. The lessons learned in this tournament will extend far beyond the competition itself."
Fudge, sensing the mood of the room, quickly jumped in. "Yes, yes, quite right! This is an excellent opportunity for our students to exchange ideas and magical practices. Now, about the specifics of the tournament’s security measures..."
As the conversation shifted back to logistics, Dumbledore allowed his mind to wander momentarily, considering the broader implications of the changes unfolding before him. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang’s refusal to participate was telling—perhaps they harbored doubts about the tournament’s safety, or perhaps their priorities had simply shifted. Either way, it marked a change in the political landscape of magical education. And now, with South Korea and the United States stepping forward, a new era of international collaboration was beginning to take shape.
Though the finer details still needed to be settled, Dumbledore could already see the paths forming ahead. The Triwizard Tournament would not merely be a contest of magical skill—it would be a convergence of philosophies, ideologies, and traditions. In that, at least, he saw promise.
For now, however, agreements needed to be finalized, details arranged, and preparations set in motion. With a composed expression, he turned his full attention back to the discussion, offering his insight where needed, even the watchful orchestrator of events yet to unfold.
Sirius Black sat in the dimly lit study of Black Manor, his fingers idly tapping against the arm of his chair. Across from him, Arcturus Black, his grandfather and former Head of House Black, studied him with the sharp gaze of a man who had spent decades navigating the treacherous world of pureblood politics. A glass of aged firewhisky rested untouched between them, its amber liquid reflecting the flickering candlelight.
"Harry's grades are exceptional," Sirius began, breaking the silence. "His professors at Nāga-Kṣetra Vidyalaya have nothing but praise for his magical aptitude and discipline. His health is just as good—better than I expected, given the way he was raised before Nagini took him in. The jungle life has made him strong."
Arcturus gave a slow nod of approval. "That is reassuring to hear. The boy was dealt a difficult hand, but it seems he has thrived. Nāga-Kṣetra is an excellent institution—far superior to Hogwarts in many respects. He is receiving an education befitting a member of the Black family."
Sirius exhaled, allowing himself a brief moment of relief. Arcturus’s approval was no small thing. Though they had their differences, his grandfather's wisdom was undeniable. But before Sirius could bask in the rare moment of agreement, Arcturus continued.
"There is another matter, one that may soon demand our attention. The Triwizard Tournament is being revived."
Sirius groaned, rubbing his temples. "Of course it is. Because nothing says ‘promoting international unity’ like throwing students into life-threatening situations for sport."
Arcturus smirked. "Indeed. But this time, the competition will be different. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have declined to participate. Instead, Gwaneum Academy and Rentier-Cleveland University will be joining Hogwarts. This shift will have considerable political ramifications."
Sirius frowned. "So Harry will be eligible to compete."
"Yes, but whether he will be selected remains to be seen. Regardless, the tournament itself is not our only concern." Arcturus’s expression darkened slightly. "Lucius Malfoy is in Azkaban."
Sirius’s brows rose, caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic. "What? Since when?"
"Arthur Weasley saw Lucius slip that cursed diary into his daughter's books. Holding a Class 10 dark object is an inexcusable crime, even for a Malfoy. The evidence was undeniable. His trial was swift, and he was sentenced accordingly."
Sirius let out a low whistle. "I can’t say I’m surprised, but that’s going to send ripples through high society. The Malfoy name has lost its influence practically overnight."
Arcturus inclined his head. "Which brings us to Narcissa. With Lucius incarcerated, he has broken the marriage contract. As such, Narcissa is once again a Black."
Sirius closed his eyes and took a slow, measured breath. "Lovely. So now I have to deal with that, too."
"You are Head of House Black," Arcturus reminded him. "Which means handling family matters, however inconvenient they may be."
Sirius let out a dry chuckle. "Oh, I’m well aware. Just once, I’d like a day where I don’t have to untangle some political mess."
Arcturus gave him a knowing look. "Then you should have been born into another family."
Sirius huffed but ultimately nodded. "Fine. I’ll handle it. But don’t expect me to throw Narcissa a welcome-back party."
"I wouldn’t dream of it," Arcturus said with a ghost of a smile. "Now, let us discuss what comes next for the House of Black."