The Invisible War (Harry Potter and the Two Worlds)
The Wizarding World has been exposed and forced to reunite with the Muggles. MI5 begins a top-secret program called "Division M" to recruit Muggleborns for the upcoming war.
Full story: "Harry Potter and the Two Worlds, " by Birger, ao3
Across Britain, newspapers blared headlines that swung from awe to alarm. THE MAGIC WITHIN US? WITCHES IN OUR NEIGHBOURHOODS!
Television pundits argued, politicians panicked, and the streets buzzed with rumour.
Deep below the polished streets of Millbank in Westminister, Britain’s most secretive agency was already at work.
The shock had not faded. If anything, it had deepened. Every television, newspaper, and online feed in Britain still pulsed with speculation, some awestruck, some furious, most terrified.
But while the public debated the truth, another branch of government had already decided what to do about it.
Director General Dominic Hayes stood before a wall of photographs. Harry Potter shaking the Queen’s hand, Hermione Granger addressing the crowd, stills of Diagon Alley flooded with curious Muggles.
Hayes’s face was unreadable. “We are now living beside an entire civilization that can wipe memories, fly, and summon fire out of thin air,” he said. “And yet, they kept it from us for centuries.”
Across from him, Agent Marianne Keller shifted uneasily. “The Prime Minister’s office insists on diplomacy, sir. Cooperation.”
“Cooperation?” Hayes raised his voice. “We were lied to. We need leverage before these "people" decide we’re expendable.”
His gaze drifted to a folder marked CLASSIFIED: NORMALBORN SUBJECTS.
Inside were photographs of a few carefully chosen individuals, ordinary citizens with extraordinary backgrounds. People who had quietly lived double lives.
The first wizard brought in was a middle-aged wizard named Dennis Creevey, who had been a journalist for the Daily Prophet. Now he was sitting beneath fluorescent lights, while his wand had been confiscated.
“We only want to understand,” Keller said kindly. “Tell us about your world.”
Dennis hesitated. “You… you can’t just learn magic like that. It’s not a weapon.”
“But it’s been used as one,” Hayes interrupted through the intercom. “Tell us about these names. Albus Dumbledore, Gellert Grindelwald, Lord Voldemort.”
Dennis blinked, astonished. “You, you know them?”
“Only that they existed. Tell us what happened.”
Dennis didn't know what to say, but then he began to speak, even if reluctantly.
"Voldemort's followers, the Death Eaters, killed my brother, Colin."
"I'm so sorry to hear that. Who were these 'Death Eaters' and why did they kill your brother?" Keller asked, trying to appear sympathetic.
"In our world, Muggleborns like me and my brother used to be discriminated against by so-called 'purebloods'. Voldemort was an evil wizard whom we were not allowed to refer to by name. He wanted to kill all Muggleborns. He conquered the Ministry 20 years ago. Me and my brother were forced to flee persecution, " Dennis explained uneasily. "However, my brother's bravery cost him his life. Our dad didn't want me to associate with our world after learning about his death."
Hayes didn't know how to respond properly. Keller listened with great curiosity.
"That is awful, " Keller said. "Please tell us more, Mr. Creevey."
And he did. He talked about a world at war twice over, about a boy who had faced down evil while adults hesitated, and about a headmaster who had defeated a dark wizard who nearly conquered all of Europe during World War II.
When the recording ended, Hayes leaned back in disbelief. “So,” he said, “you’re telling me that the magical equivalents of Hitler were defeated by a boarding school principal and a schoolboy? And their governments, their Ministries, let it happen?”
Keller shifted uneasily. “It appears so, sir.”
Hayes’s expression hardened. “Then they’re fools. Or liars. Either way, they’re not fit to be trusted.”
The second subject, Calvin Purkiss, sat stiffly beneath the fluorescent lights. His wand lay on the table, sealed in a glass case.
Hayes regarded him like a puzzle he meant to solve. “How did you acquire your powers, Mr. Purkiss?”
Purkiss frowned. “Acquire? I didn’t. Magic isn’t something you learn. You’re born with it.”
Hayes’s brow furrowed. “So it’s hereditary?”
“Not always. It can appear anywhere. No one knows why.”
“And it can’t be… replicated?”
Purkiss gave a small, nervous laugh. “You can’t just make someone magical, sir.”
Hayes tapped his pen against the folder, deep in thought. “Then those who are will have to serve in ways others can’t.”
He smiled thinly. “I trust you understand what’s at stake. Cooperation will ensure your family remains...comfortable.”
Each of the selected Muggleborns was quietly issued a government summons. Unofficially, they were being watched, every letter and phone call monitored, every family member “placed under discreet observation.”
When one witch, Mara Dalloway, hesitated to sign her cooperation order, an MI5 officer slid a folder across the table. Inside was a photo of her elderly father leaving his flat.
“For his protection,” the officer said mildly, “we’d prefer to keep this arrangement… harmonious.”
Mara signed. So did the others.
Within days, they were escorted into the newly established Division M, deep beneath Thames House, a lab disguised as a data research wing. Here, the Muggleborns demonstrated spells such as levitation, warding, and minor healing for government-approved scientists. Every spell was timed, catalogued, and measured.
Hayes justified it easily to himself, “They kept our existence secret for centuries. We’re simply returning the favour".
-
It was raining when Agent Sebastian Denver pulled up outside Number Four, Privet Drive. The street looked painfully normal: trimmed hedges, neat driveways, not a hint that it had once been home to the boy who’d saved the world.
Denver adjusted his tie, took a deep breath, and knocked. The door swung open with a snap. An angry Vernon Dursley stood in front of Denver. “What is it this time?”
“Mr. Dursley, I’m from the government,” Denver said smoothly. “We’re conducting a follow-up about your nephew, Harry Potter.”
Vernon's face became red with anger. “That name is not spoken in this house!”
Petunia appeared behind him. “We’ve told you, people, everything we know. Leave us alone.”
“It’s vital we understand his background,” Denver pressed. “His powers—”
Whatever he planned to say was cut off as Vernon’s fist struck his face.
“OUT!” the man roared.
Denver stumbled back down the steps, barely catching himself. Then Dudley, broader and taller than his father now, appeared in the doorway.
“You heard him, mate,” Dudley said, voice low. “You don’t want to mess with my family. Or Harry’s..”
He shoved Denver through the gate.
The agent stumbled back to his car. “So much for cooperation, ” he muttered while covering his swollen eye with one hand.
His report, though brief, reached Hayes’s desk the next morning.
Subject: Dursley Family — Uncooperative. Observation: Hostile to both magical and government authorities. Recommendation: Cease contact. Maintain surveillance.
Hayes skimmed the note and exhaled. “Fascinating,” he murmured. “Even without magic, they resisted us more than the wizards did.”
He closed the folder marked Potter and then turned to the other marked Containment Strategies.
The invisible war had begun, not with curses or guns, but with secrets, silence, and government agencies deciding who to trust.
