Quirks in Wizarding World

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- Carter Residence, Chelsea -

- July 20, 1991 – Morning -

The days had passed in quiet repetition, each one marked by the rustle of turning pages, the flicker of wand movements, and the steady hum of magic shaping itself to Arthav's will. He had pushed himself relentlessly, moving through every subject taught at Hogwarts. Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions theory—he had covered it all, casting each spell both with his wand and without.

It hadn't been easy. Some spells resisted, requiring repeated attempts until the magic bent to his intent. Others had come naturally, as though his body already understood the rhythm of casting. But now, with weeks of effort behind him, he knew the first-year syllabus inside out.

He had tested his limits, refining his control over each spell until it felt like an extension of himself. Even without a wand, he could perform basic transfigurations and levitate objects with ease. More complex spells still required effort, but the progress was undeniable.

And yet, despite his achievements, something was missing.

He had barely stepped outside in weeks, only venturing out for short walks around the neighborhood with his mother and grandparents. The world beyond his books had faded into the background, and now, for the first time in a while, he felt it pressing back in.

That was why, when his mother suggested they take a break, he didn't argue.

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- Greenwood Amusement Park -

- July 20, 1991 – Afternoon -

The scent of popcorn and fried food drifted through the air as they stepped through the park's entrance. The chatter of families, the distant laughter from a roller coaster, and the bright colors of the stalls made the place feel alive. It was a stark contrast to the quiet of his room, and for a moment, Arthav simply took it all in.

Emily smiled at him, nudging his shoulder. "Feels good to be outside, doesn't it?"

He nodded. He hadn't realized how much he had missed this—the simple act of being among people, of seeing life moving at its own pace.

His Nana, Richard, checked a map of the park. "Alright, what's first? Something exciting, or do we start slow?"

Amelia, his Nani, scoffed. "Exciting, of course. No point in coming to an amusement park if you're not going to scream a little."

Emily chuckled. "You always did love roller coasters."

Richard sighed but didn't argue. "Fine, but let's not start with the biggest one."

They moved through the park together, stopping first at a spinning ride that sent them whirling in circles, laughter breaking through the dizziness. Then came the roller coasters—one after another, each one faster, sharper, more exhilarating. Arthav had never been on one before, and the first drop stole his breath away. But by the time they got to the next, he was grinning.

For hours, they moved from ride to ride, stopping only for snacks—cotton candy, chips, and ice cream that melted too fast in the summer heat. They played carnival games, Richard failing spectacularly at the ring toss while Amelia won twice in a row. Emily convinced Arthav to try the high striker, where he managed to ring the bell after a few tries, much to his Nana's amusement.

It was different from studying, from magic, from the quiet focus of the last few weeks. Here, there was no goal beyond enjoying the moment. And for the first time in a long while, he let himself just be a kid.

As the sun began to set, they found a spot near the water fountain to rest. The sky was streaked with orange and pink, the air still warm but cooling with the breeze. Arthav sat with his legs stretched out, watching the lights of the rides flicker on.

Emily glanced at him. "So, was this better than being stuck in your room all day?"

He exhaled, smiling slightly. "Yeah. It was."

She ruffled his hair. "Good. You're allowed to have fun, you know."

He nodded. He did know. But something inside him still felt the pull of magic, of learning, of pushing forward. Even now, as he watched the world move around him, his mind drifted back to what came next.

Hogwarts was getting closer.

But for tonight, that could wait.

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The warmth of the evening breeze had settled over the amusement park, blending with the hum of distant rides and scattered conversations. Arthav sat on the bench beside his mother, his grandparents resting nearby, the last traces of cotton candy still lingering on his tongue. The air smelled of fried food, sugar, and the faint metallic tang of water from the fountain.

Then, everything changed.

A sudden commotion broke through the peaceful evening. The sound of hurried footsteps, gasps of shock, and panicked voices filled the air. People were running, their faces pale with fear, their eyes darting back toward something unseen.

Arthav tensed, his senses sharpening. Emily rose slightly from her seat, her hand instinctively moving toward him, protective.

"What's going on?" Amelia murmured, glancing toward the growing disturbance.

And then they saw him.

A man—engulfed in flames.

He stumbled into view, his body completely covered in fire, yet he didn't collapse, didn't burn away like he should have. His clothes had long since turned to ash, but his skin remained untouched, whole. The fire danced wildly around him, licking at the air, burning everything he came near. The pavement blackened beneath his feet. A trash bin ignited as he passed.

He was screaming. Not in pain—but in terror.

"Help me!" His voice was raw, desperate. "Please—somebody, make it stop!"

But no one could.

People wanted to help, that much was clear from the way they hesitated, from the way some reached out only to recoil as the heat singed their skin. The air shimmered around him, thick with heatwaves. Those who got too close suffered for it—some with minor burns, others collapsing as the scorching air choked their lungs.

Someone, an older man with a trembling voice, shouted, "The fountain! Jump into the fountain!"

The burning man's eyes darted toward the large water feature in the center of the plaza. His hesitation lasted only a second before he turned and lunged toward it, stumbling over the low wall and into the water with a splash.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

For a moment, it seemed like it had worked. The water hissed violently as it met the flames, steam erupting into the air in thick, swirling clouds. The people around the fountain backed away, shielding their faces from the intense heat.

But the fire didn't die.

It lessened, yes, but it did not go out. The flames still clung to him, resisting the water's grasp, flickering beneath the rising mist. The cloud of steam grew denser, spreading through the plaza, obscuring the view, making the entire scene feel unreal.

Arthav remained frozen in place, his heart pounding. His family, like the rest of the crowd, watched in stunned silence. But where others saw only a man on fire, Arthav saw something else entirely.

Through his special sight, the world looked different. The usual colors of magic, prana, or aura weren't present. The fire wasn't supernatural, nor was it magical. It was something else. Something new.

Something beyond anything he had seen before.

His mind raced, piecing together the clues. The energy surrounding the man—it wasn't like the glow of spellwork, nor did it have the fluid nature of prana. It was raw, untamed, chaotic in a way that suggested it wasn't controlled at all.

A mutation.

The realization settled into him like a heavy weight. This man wasn't cursed, nor was he under the effect of some magical accident. He had awakened. Much like Arthav's own eyes, the man had developed an ability that set him apart from everyone else, only his had manifested in the most volatile way possible.

In the past, when he awakened his own mutation, the guru in India had talked about mutations sometimes appearing among the normal people around the world and disturbing the already fragile balance between the magical and non magical world. This was the first time he was seeing any other awakening besides himself and he admitted it was—chaotic.

Before Arthav could dwell further on the nature of this power, his attention snapped back to the man, who was still struggling in the water, the steam now forming a thick veil over the plaza. The crowd was disoriented, backing away from the rising heat.

He needed to help.

But how? He couldn't just use magic—not here, not in the middle of a public place swarming with Muggles. And even if he did, what spell could control fire that didn't behave like normal fire?

His thoughts raced, weighing possibilities, when movement within the steam caught his eye.

A group of figures emerged—fully equipped, moving with precise coordination. They were dressed in specialized suits, designed to withstand extreme heat, their helmets shielding their faces. In their hands, they carried unfamiliar devices—some resembling modified fire extinguishers, others more advanced, with mechanisms that hummed with suppressed energy.

They moved in swiftly, surrounding the fountain without hesitation.

One of them, likely the leader, gestured sharply, and the team sprang into action. A controlled burst of mist sprayed from one of the devices, targeting the man directly. The fire crackled in resistance but visibly weakened. Another team member released a pulse of some kind—Arthav couldn't quite see the exact mechanism, but the flames flickered in response, growing unstable.

Slowly, methodically, they worked to subdue the fire.

Arthav remained still, his breath steady despite the chaos. His family was watching, caught between fear and awe. Emily had a protective hand on his shoulder, but she, too, seemed too stunned to move.

Who were these people? How had they arrived so quickly?

And more importantly—if they were prepared for something like this, did that mean they had some organizations monitoring these phenomenon and training its agents, the way to efficiently handle it?

Questions swirled in his mind, but he pushed them aside for now. First, he needed to see if the man would be okay.

As the last of the fire was forced into submission, the burning man collapsed, coughing, exhausted but alive. The personnel quickly moved in, checking his condition before securing him for transport.

The situation was under control.

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