[Albus Dumbledore]
To an outside observer, I might have looked like a crazy person, staring intently at a stone while muttering beneath my breath as if expecting it to stare or talk back.
That wasn't true, of course. I was examining a secondary ward stone of Hogwarts—or, more accurately, the runic keystone that supports and powers the Room of Requirement.
I had already visited the Room of Hidden Things to retrieve the tiara, but at the time, I was following the other link of the curse on the DADA position, so I hadn't had time to examine the room itself.
It didn't take me long to purify the curse. With the primary anchor already in my possession, I simply went to the classroom and purified the secondary anchor, which was the room itself. Since I had removed the primary anchor, the secondary one couldn't regenerate. Curse successfully broken.
And now, in my continued effort to dodge paperwork, I had finally come to see what the Room of Requirement was all about.
*'And I was not disappointed, was I?'* I thought with a smirk.
This room was all the evidence I needed that wizards had regressed from what they once were. They stopped seeking knowledge from all over the world to supplement their own, stopped dueling for the sake of knowledge exchange, and started getting lazy and content with whatever knowledge of magic they were provided with inside Hogwarts. At least, the majority had.
This stone housed twenty-one runic formations, all written in different runic languages and chained together with some of the most common yet rarely used inscriptions and linking methods. It told a story of how profoundly Rowena Ravenclaw comprehended what she studied and how masterfully she applied it.
*'Still, to think the room is actually a multi-purpose lab,'* I thought, scanning the stone once more.
I couldn't find any other explanation for why someone would create a simulation room like this. A space-extended room that acts as an illusory space, creating solid illusions based on the caster's knowledge and desires. Of course, the room stored all the data it came in contact with—how else would it know what to do?
*'If I had to describe it, it's like a very advanced computer. Like the Danger Room from the X-Men, but also quite primitive in a way,'* I thought, stroking my beard. *'Its creation was only possible because of magic.'* I smiled at the thought.
Just when I think I can't find a new reason to love magic, I'm proven wrong.
It was like my mindscape training all over again…
— flashback —
As I finished optimizing my mindscape, I considered waking up and facing the music, but the procrastinator in me resisted.
I knew that as soon as I awoke, I would have to return to my routine: stopping idiots from passing stupid bills, presiding over nonsensical arguments and trials, overseeing the ICW's decisions… pretty much all the frivolous responsibilities I dealt with daily.
I didn't want that. So I sat down in my mindscape, thinking about what to do after waking up, trying to plan—and that's when it hit me.
*'Why don't I train everything I know from the very beginning?'* I thought. *'I'm sure with my Essence, I can discover things I've overlooked…'*
And that's how I started going through my memories again, this time actually practicing everything. It was fortunate this was my own mindscape, where my imagination was the limit—well, not entirely true, as playing god even inside your mind requires a vast amount of magic—but that wasn't a problem for me.
So I did just that. I practiced everything from a simple *Lumos* charm to the most difficult spells I knew. I fought imaginary foes and even came close to losing once, which would have been a very bad thing… but it didn't happen, and everything was fine.
Still, my most informative studies were in Arithmancy, Runes, and Alchemy. I came to truly see things from a wizard's perspective, which in turn helped me avoid a very bad case of somewhat delayed existential confusion.
I might not have processed everything that happened to me yet, but I had come to accept my new self without much trouble. I still had past regrets and traumas to resolve, but I thought everything was fine for now.
That wasn't all I did, though. I started to think of a way to gain more magical knowledge without going through all the trouble, so I decided to test my Essence and create a new magic that would help me with that.
The Archive was one of the easiest magics to create, as I could actually build upon a solid theory. The end result showed just how easy the process was with the help of the Essence; I only needed a solid theory, enough imagination, and sufficient power.
That's how I gained a glowing golden ball inside my mindscape, at the center of the first floor of the library. This golden ball is the primary source of the Archive.
I did try to create different magics from *Fairy Tail* as well, but I hadn't created anything particularly worthwhile yet—just some miscellaneous things that might be useful, but…
— flashback end —
*'I should really start spreading my Archive everywhere,'* I thought as I came out of my reminiscing. *'And see about creating different kinds of useful magicks, too.'*
But I can't really strong-arm everyone into following my plans or commands. Or can I?
Ah, who am I kidding? I can't. I have a reputation to uphold, a mission to achieve, and I really, *really* hate forcing people to do things against their will. But I don't have time to convince everyone.
I don't have time for lobbying. I don't have time to solve all the problems of the wizarding world by myself, and I certainly don't have time to go against all those who rise in opposition.
There are going to be gods, devils, angels, and everything in between—and that's not forgetting the fact that these worlds, too, have insane people who want to end the world or something…
*'Ah, who am I kidding? I just want to get Gellert out of prison,'* I thought honestly, without trying to come up with excuses.
He was my best friend, and still is, for that matter, even after everything. In the end, he was a brilliant wizard motivated by fear—at least in this world, he was.
You see, Gellert saw a vision of World War II when he was a kid. He saw the destruction and pain, and as expected, he was scared. Like any other kid, he told the adults about it, but they just laughed at him, believing he was just trying to get attention and, of course, convinced that Muggles couldn't do anything to them.
Gellert himself was wrong, as he thought the war was against wizards (which it wasn't), but that's beside the point. So he started seeking power.
He started practicing and experimenting with dark magic younger than he should have. He was brilliant, no doubt, but he didn't know how to shield himself from the influence. Sure, he took precautions, but they were not enough.
Not that it was any excuse for all the damage he and his followers did, but…
*'That's quite hypocritical of me, isn't it?'* I thought to myself. But… *'No, it's not. I didn't start studying dark magic until after my fifth year, which is what I believe should be the minimum age…'*
*'Still, now I can actually save him and make sure he doesn't do something stupid like try to take over the world again,'* I reminded myself.
That's what the Dark Lord Plan is all about: a way for me to save my best friend, give him a second chance, and gain an ally who can handle the problems that I can't.
Because let's be honest, if there's anyone who can unite the undesirable aspects of our society, it's Grindelwald…
*'Sigh. I really should think about this later…'* I thought as I lay down next to the stone, my left hand under my head, acting as a pillow, and my right hand resting on the stone, which was glowing slightly.
I was installing my Archive into the room, with the stone acting as an anchor. I wanted to see how different the Room of Requirement would be if it had my Archive integrated into it. How much more useful would it become? Would it become better? Or would it fail to integrate the magic into itself?…
Suddenly, a wave of energy captured my attention, dragging me out of my musing. I looked behind me and saw a dog Patronus coming through the door…
"Dumbledore, the Ministry entrance in London is under attack by monsters and Strays! They are working together…." Sirius's voice came out of the dog's mouth, making me frown.
"Fawkes!!" I called out for my phoenix familiar, and he arrived instantly. "Take us to the Ministry entrance in London." I said, and soon we were both engulfed in a fiery spectacle.
X_
[ Sirius Black]
The scene in front of him could only be described as chaos. The whole street was a mess, six monsters fighting together against tens of wizards.
The debris, the flames, the smoke, and the cacophony of screams and spellfire created a hellish painting. One of the creatures—a hulking brute with rock-like skin—slammed its fists into the pavement, sending a shockwave that threw two Aurors against a telephone box, which cracked under the impact with a sound like snapping bones.
Another monster—a Stray Devil, if the nauseating feeling of its magic was anything to go by—was a twisted thing with too many limbs and a distended, fanged maw. It moved with unnatural speed, dodging spells so fast that its form appeared to blur.
A purple *Stupefy* shot straight through its chest as if it were smoke, and the thing let out a gurgling laugh before one of its whip-like arms lashed out. The strike that followed wasn't a physical one, as was apparent by the way the air itself darkened along the whip's path. A young witch who raised a hasty *Protego* screamed as the shield shattered into black shards that dissolved into nothing.
The dark energy wrapped around her, and her scream was cut off as she simply dropped to the ground, limp and unmoving. The devil let out a sound that resembled a butchered snicker as it ripped her head off and brought it closer to its mouth.
There was a crunching sound as it began to chew, while another limb took the body and hoisted it onto its back, alongside the other three already there…
"Merlin's beard…" Sirius whispered, a shiver going down his spine as he tried to process what he had just witnessed.
This wasn't a fight; this was a slaughter. The monsters worked together with a terrifying, unspoken synergy. And now their purpose was clear. They were here to get food…
*'I was just visiting Amelia to have some office sex. How can this happen?'* A stray thought bounced across his mind as he sent several curses at one of the monsters: Blood-Boiling Curse, Bone-Shattering Curse, Eye-Gouging Curse, Scar-Opening Curse, and several other dark curses he knew.
This wasn't about dark and light anymore; this was about survival and making it until his children were born…
*'Where's Amelia?'* He thought as he started looking around.
He saw a wolf-like beast with eyes so red they looked like burning coal herding a group of Ministry workers towards an alley, while a floating, spectral entity that trailed icy mist descended from above, its mere presence causing the air to freeze and the cobblestones to crack with frost.
A wizard close to it fired a Cutting Curse, but the spell iced over mid-air and clattered harmlessly to the ground.
He saw Dawlish, his face smeared with soot, yelling orders that were lost in the din. A jet of green light—the Killing Curse—flew from his wand towards the rock-skinned monster. It struck the creature square in the chest, and for a second, Sirius felt a surge of hope.
Then the hope curdled into dread as the beast merely grunted, looked down at the spot where the spell had hit, and then back at Dawlish with what could only be described as annoyance.
*'Heheheh, the Killing Curse had done little more than scorch its hide,'* he thought, feeling the madness crawling into his head. *'Heheheh, they can shrug off our most deadly spells.'*
He was unraveling, he could feel it, but he couldn't be blamed. Tens of the most powerful, highly trained Aurors were lying disfigured and dead on the ground.
They were losing. Badly. The coordinated attacks, the immunity to spells that should have been lethal, the sheer, reality-bending horror of their abilities—it was a level of threat they were utterly unprepared for. He saw the fear in the eyes of seasoned Aurors, the kind of fear he hadn't seen since the worst days of Voldemort.
*'Even then it wasn't like this…'*
Just as the spectral entity reached for a frozen, paralyzed witch, the air grew heavy, then hot.
A blinding flash of fire erupted in the center of the street, so bright it momentarily silenced the battle. The flames didn't spread; they coalesced, dying down as quickly as they appeared to reveal two figures.
One was a tall, broad-shouldered man with auburn hair and a dark dueling coat, his presence sweeping through the street like an anchor of calm in the storm.
The other was a phoenix, whose mournful, powerful cry cut through the chaos like a knife.
"Dumbledore!" "Professor!" "Headmaster!"
He and most of the wizards on the street yelled in unison.
He saw Dumbledore turn around to survey the situation, his face crumbling as he saw the sheer devastation, the bodies, and…
He could have sworn he saw his eyes tearing up as he no doubt recognized most of those who still had recognizable features…
"Ah…"
That was all they heard, but somehow it felt so painful, so sorrowful, that Sirius could feel the lump in his own throat.
A golden light swept the street, emanating from Dumbledore, who stood there with his head down.
The monsters that had been rampaging stopped, but they didn't flee. They moved together, and suddenly they were there, all six standing across the street from Dumbledore.
"Start getting the dead out of the rubble and help those you can into the Ministry building," they all heard him say, but they still couldn't move…
X_
[ Albus Dumbledore ]
You know, knowing something is true and believing it are two different things. I knew the worlds were merging. I knew that meant monsters were going to bleed into our reality. I knew that meant death and destruction were going to be the norm for some time.
I just didn't *believe*. Or more accurately, I didn't want to believe I couldn't do anything about it…
Standing there, watching people—wizards and witches I personally knew, people I had taught and presided over—dead, disfigured, and unrecognizable, I felt something *click*.
I was Albus fucking Dumbledore, and those monsters just killed my students. My citizens.
I let a very concentrated ray of healing magic sweep through the street, making sure the holy energy didn't touch the monsters.
They didn't deserve to die like that. They were going to die in hellish fire, in agony…
"*Protego Diabolica*," I intoned, holding my wand down, pointing it at the ground.
The blue fire started spreading everywhere, quickly, and I watched as the monsters started throwing their own spells and magical attacks at it.
It didn't help, as everything was consumed to make the fire stronger. Phoenix-like fire constructs started forming and shooting into the sky, closing the escape route of the freezing monster that was trying to flee.
"Die," I whispered as I saw the fire encircling the monsters, slowly, deliberately, and painfully.
Their howls were music to my ears; their futile struggle was a tribute to the fallen wizards and witches who died by their hands. Those young flames that were extinguished before their time.
I turned my attention to the still-frozen wizards and witches, watching with stupefied expressions the sheer, anticlimactic result of the battle. They were watching the beasts slowly die as the flames disintegrated them.
"Those of you who are already healed, start helping those who are still healing, and gather those who have died… please," I said softly, watching as they shook off their stupor and started running through the ruins of the battle.
I made a circular gesture with my wand raised above my head, and the debris started rattling. I had just cast a very overpowered *Reparo Maxima*, and the whole street started shaking. Rubble levitated from the ground and flew back to where it belonged.
The people on the scene paused for a moment, saw the effects, and started moving again.
I looked back and saw only one rocky-looking little monster was left, or more accurately, its upper half remained, disintegrating slowly.
I flicked my wand, reined in my flames—burning the rest of it in the process—before slowly gathering the fire and extinguishing it.
There were some newly arrived wizards coming through the now-restored entrance. They, too, started to collect the bodies of those who had died and take them back into the Ministry.
*'Let's go. There need to be some very drastic measures taken after this,'* I thought as I started heading into the Ministry too.
X_
[Amelia Bones]
She had been gone for only a few minutes, just going inside to see what the hold-up was. Why weren't more Aurors coming? And where the fuck was the Department of Mysteries' combat unit?
Apparently, those few minutes were all she needed to miss the crucial part of the fight.
She sighed as she saw Sirius sitting on a couch, eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought, and decided not to bother him for now.
She had seen all that she missed, having gone through her husband's memories almost as soon as he came in with the news.
She saw just how easily Dumbledore had disposed of the monsters that were killing her most experienced Aurors, and all she could think was, *'Oh, Merlin, I hope he doesn't turn on us…'*
A paper airplane came gliding through the air toward her. She flicked her wand in its direction, making it stop a few feet away and unfold itself.
*"All department heads and Wizengamot members are required to attend the meeting under the orders of the Chief Warlock."*
That was all the paper said.
*'This is not an invitation,'* she thought, trying to remember how many times Albus Dumbledore had actually used his authority as Chief Warlock to summon them to a meeting.
*'I could count that with one hand and have fingers left.'*
X_
[Albus Dumbledore]
Sitting inside the meeting room, my back leaning against the high chair, eyes closed as I tried to calm myself further. Golden light pulsed through me as I relaxed into the feeling of the warm energy coursing through my veins.
Today had been a disaster. I thought Strays were weak. I thought monsters didn't work together. I had thought and assumed so many things…
*'I can't keep procrastinating anymore. I need to finish the Voldemort problem as soon as possible, maybe after this meeting, and then I need to go get Gellert out. I need him to gather the dregs of our society and get us some much-needed manpower,'* I thought, massaging my temples. *'If they can't be useful, they could at least work as meat shields. At least that way, they could be useful.'*
There was no guarantee that the universes merging with us would be like those I remembered from movies and anime. I needed to stop assuming things.
Wizards needed more training, more advancement, more power, and I could provide them with that power—slowly, through the Archive, solidifying the "advancement theory." With enough belief, that theory would become reality, especially now that the links and limitations of our world were unraveling.
The noise in the room was getting annoying.
"Silence, please," I spoke softly, bringing all arguments to an immediate halt.
"As you have no doubt heard, there was an attack on the Ministry today," I began, not waiting for them to sit down or organize themselves. "We lost some of our best fighters to those monsters. It is a loss that should be grieved and generously compensated…"
"I will not take kindly to anyone or anything trying to make the compensation for the families of the deceased anything less than generous," I continued, my voice calm but my eyes dead cold, sweeping across everyone present.
"After handling that, we will be starting a new program for every witch and wizard in the Isles. They will be required to visit Hogwarts and link themselves to the Archive." I watched as some people twitched, wanting to speak, but I couldn't care less. "There will be an overhaul. Our magical society will be going through years of mandatory training, the inner workings of which we will finalize next week."
"We are officially in a state of war," I stated, watching some people try very hard not to say anything. "Today it was just six monsters that dismantled and decimated our forces. Who can say there won't be more next time? Who can say these weren't the weakest of them all?"
"Get your act together and start preparing. And don't forget what I said about the compensation for the deceased. I will be very, *very* angry if I ever hear a whisper of it being anything but the most generous in the history of the Ministry."
"That's all." I Apparated out of there, slipping through the wards as if they weren't even there, and headed towards Diagon Alley.
X_
As soon as Dumbledore left, all those in the room finally breathed a sigh of relief. The weight pressing against them vanished, and they could breathe again.
"You heard the man. Start going through the records of those who died in today's battle and tally up the numbers," Cornelius Fudge said, in a rare act of leadership, standing up and giving orders.
"I need the latest Ministry finance reports, and I need them soon." He looked around at the people now giving him strange looks. "I also need to know the most generous sum the Ministry has ever given as compensation and if our finances can cover it."
"Minister, what happens if we can't? Are we really going to risk the Ministry's financial stability just because Dumbledore said so?" The pink toad, Fudge's undersecretary—or just the 'pink menace,' as most Ministry employees called her—stood up and asked.
Fudge and nearly everyone else in the room looked at her as if she were the stupidest person present. She still thought they had a say in this. They did not. This was an order.
"Sit down, Umbridge!!" Fudge hissed. "I don't know about the rest of you, but if I have to put every Galleon I have into the Ministry's treasury to avoid Dumbledore's wrath, I will. So I suggest you stop thinking of this as a suggestion and start treating it like the order it is…"
"What about the other things?" a meek voice came from somewhere in the room.
"We will start thinking about that after we get the casualties sorted and everything that follows."
"My Aurors are already on that, so we will have the final report soon," Amelia voiced, making some people sigh in relief.
"The Malfoy family will donate two hundred thousand Galleons to the Ministry's accounts as relief funds," Lucius Malfoy, who had been silent until now, spoke as he stood up.
"The Black family will donate three hundred," Sirius Black announced, though it seemed he was doing it more to not be outdone by Malfoy than out of altruism.
"The Greengrass family will…."
What followed was a series of announcements from various old families and capable individuals, solving the potential financial crisis before it even began.
Whether they were motivated by fear of Dumbledore's anger or a sense of moral obligation, it was marked as the first time in recent history that the British Ministry didn't delay its response to a crisis.
X_
Advanced chapters on p@treon/hunter20