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DTWL: chapter 12
🕑 Added 2025-10-10 00:11:28 +0000 UTC[Nicolas Flamel]
—Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity, and I am not sure about the universe.—
This was the only thought in Nicolas Flamel's mind as he observed the stupidity on display in the current council. The assembly had many names—the Council of Elders, the High Council—which were just fancy titles for old people debating what to do.
Different terms had been used to describe them over time, but what they called themselves did not change what they were: a group of people who held the most influence and political power in their respective societies. That, in a nutshell, was the International Confederation of Wizards.
If someone were to ask Nicolas his thoughts on the modern council, he would describe it as a gathering of idiots. He wouldn't belittle their work, as they did accomplish some good, but an idiot can do a fantastic job and still be an idiot.
'Why am I here again?' he asked himself, turning to look for his wife only to find the seat next to him empty. He then remembered that she had chosen not to attend today's meeting.
'I really should have stayed home with her.'
He should have learned to listen to his wife by now and not be led astray by his curiosity, but some things just couldn't be fixed, even with time.
He let out a slow breath as he looked around the room, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as he tried to suppress the memory of what this very room had looked like centuries ago, back in the fourteen hundreds, when he was first invited to become a founding member.
'Things sure have changed a lot,' he smiled slightly at the thought, though his smile slowly transformed into a small scowl as he surveyed the room. 'Why did they feel the need to make it look so lavish? It was fine the way it was,' he inwardly complained. He scanned the place, trying to compare his memory with what he saw and figure out if anything remained of the old room besides the enchanted wooden table and chairs.
The circular room was obviously large, with tall, gold-engraved marble walls adorned with paintings and artifacts. The high ceiling was enchanted to let daylight in—a completely unnecessary addition in his opinion, as it rendered the floating chandeliers obsolete.
Even the new security they had added seemed more for show than purpose, a fact highlighted by the transparent, gem-like rune stones embedded like belts of jewelry on the walls.
'Whose idea was it to waste so many of the most valuable and sought-after rune stones to engrave space-expansion and air-filtration wards?' He massaged his eyes as he inspected the stones further, finding that each carried only one or two wards, and most were for comfort purposes… like that one which ensured every occupant felt only the most comfortable temperature.
'Really, whose idea was this?'
Sadly, no one could answer him. His gaze drifted over the pompous individuals who were currently the most 'powerful' wizards and witches in their society, sitting on their high-backed chairs and talking—or, more accurately, humble-bragging—to each other.
"My grandson just finished second in the International Dueling Championship. Truly, the future is secured if there are more like him," Nicolas heard one of them say and turned his head to see who it was.
"Oh, congratulations! My granddaughter just completed her apprenticeship in the Transfiguration Guild—one of the youngest in recent history, too."
…
'When did an ICW council meeting become a social event?' He wondered, but he couldn't find an answer. He had rarely attended any council meetings since the late fifteen-hundreds, only visiting the ICW if he had a specific need. Otherwise, he did not interfere, trusting the governing system they had created was functioning properly.
And it was. They were doing their jobs wonderfully. It was just that they could have been better. No—they should have been better.
'Has the quality of witches and wizards really fallen so much since the late eighteen-hundreds?' He asked himself, and apparently, the answer was yes.
Before he could continue his thoughts, one of the new Asian upstarts—no matter how long or white his beard—interrupted his inner discussion. A very rude thing to do. 'What was an old man to do, if not delve deep into his own thoughts? Socialize? Hah. Perhaps if he found someone worth talking to.'
"Sir Flamel, it is an honor to meet you," the upstart—whose name Nicolas couldn't be bothered to remember—greeted him.
"Hmm, it is nice to meet you, too," he replied with a soft, outward smile, while keeping his thoughts private, as they should be.
"It truly is nice to have you here, sir. That way, we can at least benefit from your wisdom concerning what to do about Dumbledore and the recent events." The man continued to—as youngsters called it—'butter him up.'
Nicolas only smiled in reply, not bothering to respond further. This might be taken as a sign of condescension, but it was not. He was too old to care for such frivolities and simply wanted to be left alone with his thoughts.
The only reason he had come was to satiate his curiosity about Albus's recent news and to see if he could lend a helping hand. While he hadn't interacted with many wizards outside of France in the last century or two, he knew all too well that youngsters these days tended to fight over the scraps of political power.
'Ah, they don't make wizards like they used to,' he thought, amused. He let his eyes wander around the room, looking at the so-called most powerful wizards in the world. 'These upstarts wouldn't have lasted more than five minutes against a young Dumbledore or Grindelwald, let alone the wizards and witches of his own era.'
He didn't need to ask why such a thing had happened, for he knew the truth: they had made the world too safe for them. That was the honest answer. There were no rampaging cultists, dark wizards, or generally insane people running around like there used to be. And even those who remained were nothing like their predecessors—too stupid and too weak to pose any real danger.
'Ah, those were the days,' he sighed, remembering how fun it was to go around and cull the numbers of insane, idiotic wizards and witches.
In the last century alone, there had been only one dark lord worth his salt, and that was Gellert Grindelwald. And even he was defeated because he let power go to his head.
Back in the day, there were multiple dark lords of the same standing as Gellert, and double the number of opposing wizards. There were epic battles and more danger, which forced younglings to train harder just to keep themselves safe.
Haaaah… He let out a slow sigh as he reached into his pocket, took out his watch to check the time, put it back, and summoned his grimoire—disguised as a book—to pass the time.
'This was going to be a long day…'
X
While Nicolas Flamel was reading his book in peace, the voices of the other council members traveled through the room, bouncing off the walls yet leaving no echo. His presence was felt before it was registered, a quiet hum of magic that spoke of history, time, and power.
Nevertheless, his attendance did not bode well for some of the council members, nor was it good news for others. They had only sent the invitation as a courtesy, as always, and with how urgent this whole meeting was arranged, they doubted that he would even attend. Clearly, they were wrong, and now they were left guessing why.
Such was the reason why Elke Schnider, head of Magical Research and Regulations; Gregore Volkov, the previous head of International Security; and Vasily Dragomirov, previous Minister of Magic for Bulgaria, were having a hushed conversation.
"Now what?" Volkov asked, looking at his two temporary allies. "We can't go with the original plan, as Flamel will no doubt side with Dumbledore, and the rest will too, just to get the chance to suck up to him," he grumbled.
"We can still try to corner him by stating that he is distributing an unregulated, untested magic, relying on his status—a clear violation of his position as Supreme Mugwump," Elke replied, trying to show that the plan was not completely dead.
"Oh, don't start that shit, we all know you just want to get access to that magic and nothing else," Vasily said. "It's not even that hard; all you have to do is ask, or wait until he installs it in Durmstrang and go there to get access."
"Do you think I am stupid? Why in Merlin's name would I connect my mind and magic to an unknown Magic just because I was told that it's safe? Unless I know everything about it, I will do everything in my power to stop it from spreading," Schnider seethed, her fingers tapping on the table as she took deep breaths to calm herself.
"So let's assume that the plan—if it could even be called such—to make Dumbledore step down is compromised for now," Volkov said, leaning back in his chair. "So let's think of something that will ensure he has trouble for the next couple of months while we gather more allies and plan things properly."
"I agree, this is the best course of action right now," Vasily nodded. At least this would give him time to measure Dumbledore's new power and worth more accurately.
"But what about the…" Elke wanted to disagree, but the stone-cold faces of her 'allies' told her she wouldn't achieve anything by arguing. These old bastards were too inflexible. So she just bit her tongue and stopped talking altogether.
On the other side of the table, the Asian representatives and power bloc were having a different kind of conversation.
"Are you sure about this?" The Azure Dragon Sect's representative, Zhu Lin, asked Kenji Hino, the Japanese magical community representative.
"Yes, Dumbledore-sama told me himself last time. You can gain access to it by just asking him," Kenji replied, while doing his best not to show his hatred and prejudice for the Chinese man in front of him.
It wasn't about fear, for he didn't fear the entitled country bumpkin. No, it was that the Japanese magical community was not ready to fight one of the largest sects in China. Not because they were that much of a threat, but because if they attacked, every other sect would suddenly band together to fight them, and that was troublesome.
The Japanese community might be smaller, but they were by far stronger than most, especially after the magical treaty they signed with all sapient magical creatures following the Muggles' attack with their bomb. It was then that they knew just how dangerous Muggles could be and began developing a new branch of magic—technomancy.
"And would he be open to coming to the Azure Dragon Sect and installing this magic, as he promised to do with your school?" Zhu Lin asked again, and Kenji found it harder not to punch the perpetual condescending look off the Chinese man's face.
"Yes, that is what he announced in the previous meeting," Kenji replied with a thin smile on his face, praying that Dumbledore would arrive faster so he could stop being bothered.
"And it is safe to use, right? It will not block our path to ascension, will it?"
"No, it will not. In fact, I think it will be quite helpful in such endeavors," Kenji replied as he sneered inwardly. 'Of course, that's the reason they suddenly started attending ICW meetings.'
'Ascension, my ass,' Kenji thought. 'These people should really start practicing magic properly first. If not for their sheer numbers and their advancements in other areas of magic, there wouldn't be a magical community left in China, let alone so many sects.'
Still, they weren't his problem. His attention needed to be on meeting Dumbledore and setting a date for him to come to Japan to set up the Archive inside Mahoutokoro School of Magic. They needed to start researching radiation-cleansing magi-technology, and the Archive would be absolutely helpful.
His thoughts came to a screeching halt as he felt he was under a weight he couldn't quite fathom. His magic felt sluggish, and his head started to feel cloudy…
"Oh, am I late? I could've sworn I was on time." He turned his head with difficulty to see who was talking. "Oops, pardon me." He heard, and then suddenly the weight vanished and a golden pulse of light passed through him, leaving him feeling invigorated.
It was then that he saw the cause of everything. In the seat of the Supreme Mugwump sat Albus Dumbledore.
"I'd like to apologize for that. It was my first time trying to teleport like a phoenix, and with me trying to get past the wards without breaking them, I kind of lost control when I finally arrived. For that, I would like to apologize." Kenji heard Dumbledore-sama's words, and all he could think was, 'As expected of Dumbledore-sama.'
Still, looking at the sour faces of most of the attendees, especially the Chinese representative, who looked like he had just tasted the most foul thing in his life, made him feel a lot more comfortable.
X_
[Albus Dumbledore]
'And just like that, I had delivered the message,' I thought as I sat down in my own high-backed wooden chair, which was deceptively comfortable, but then again, it was enchanted with cushioning and comfort charms…
The whole façade of me losing control of my magic was just that—a façade. I needed to remind them that I was not the old Dumbledore, and it would not be easy for them to walk all over me.
The old Dumbledore may not have cared enough about people calling him names and ridiculing him behind his back, or conspiring against him, but that was because he was already planning to leave his ICW post. He was too old and had too many regrets to care for political power anymore.
"Now then, I was informed that I had to arrive and explain my actions in front of the council, via a mere letter with a Portkey attached to it," I said as I looked around the room, which held more people than when I was chosen for my Supreme Mugwump position.
I mean, sure, the position itself isn't much, as it's expected to be truly neutral when making decisions, and the old me was such a person. So it was to be expected that not many political parties liked me or tried to get closer than necessary. But today was different.
'Anyone who has the slightest pull inside the ICW is here,' I thought as I recognized many people in the room. Even the Chinese had sent representatives, and they hadn't done such a thing in decades. 'Oh, and Nicolas is here, too.'
"So, let's get started, because I have work to do back in the Isles," I said as I tapped the table with my wand.
Tak. Bssss. Ting.
The sounds of the different magical artifacts embedded into the table activating meant that the meeting had started, and any and all words spoken after this would be recorded.
The silence that followed was tense, almost physical. Every eye in the chamber was on me, and I met each and every one—which, if I was being honest, was kind of hard to do. There were a lot of people here.
There was at least one or two representatives from every magical community of worth. I didn’t know who was behind calling all of them, nor did I care. They could try to weave their threads and flex their political power; in the end, I could just point Gellert at them and be done with it.
Still, watching the different emotions in the eyes of the attendees told me I had achieved what I sought. The wariness, fear, anger, humiliation, power worship—the spectrum of emotions portrayed in their gazes was proof enough.
“Alright, as much as I enjoy this tense atmosphere, I really have things to do back in Britain. So, will the ones who called for this meeting please begin?”
“This meeting was called to address the consequences of your actions this past week: distributing untested magic, overstepping the boundaries of your post, declaring war on imaginary enemies, and using one of the few charms forbidden by the ICW charter,” Elara Vance, one of the several MACUSA representatives and a very vocal enforcer of accountability, said with a calm tone, though her slightly knitted eyebrows clearly indicated she was anything but calm.
“Okay, let’s address those one by one, then,” I nodded. “Let’s start with the magic. It’s my invention; I have every right to distribute it however I want, and I did just that.”
“But you can’t distribute an untested magic. That’s a clear violation of the rules,” a feminine voice interrupted. Velka Schnider, I believed her name was, spoke up.
“But it is tested, as most of my staff at Hogwarts, British Ministry employees, and even some of the representatives I met after I woke up would tell you,” I countered calmly, smiling at her.
“That’s not how the protocol works! We need to know how it actually works, why it works, its functions, test it for side effects, etc…” She was not one to give up.
“So? You want me to what? Give you the magic so you can test it? Okay, sure, I can connect you to it right now. But if you expect me to allow you to enter Hogwarts and mess with its primary anchor, then I will have to disappoint you,” I smiled, watching her huff in frustration. “Though you can do your tests when I install secondary access points in different schools, libraries, and magical communities. If they allow you, that is.”
“When are you going to install it in Beauxbatons Academy?” A slightly emotionless voice made me turn my head to the left, where a woman sat behind the French delegates and representatives.
'An Unspeakable?' I thought. 'She might just be, if the stiffening backs of the group in front of her is anything to go by. Truly, Unspeakables are a frightening bunch to normal people.'
“Sometime next week. I still need to make an appointment with Madame Maxime before anything else.”
“We’re getting off-topic,” Elara’s voice rang through the chamber, her tone thoroughly annoyed.
“Ah, right. Where were we? I think I’ve covered everything about the Archive magic. So, let’s get to the next part. What was it again?” I put my hand under my chin as if thinking. “Right, me overstepping my boundaries. What boundaries are those?” I asked rhetorically.
“You bypassed your own Minister of Magic and declared Britain under war preparation, thus overstepping your bounds as Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump,” Friedrich Bauer, the head of the Enchanters Guild, voiced helpfully. This made me raise an eyebrow.
“So? I didn’t actually overstep anything. You people seem to forget that I took magical oaths when I agreed to fill these positions. Do I look like I have violated any of them?” I asked rhetorically, not expecting an answer.
“We don’t know what you did to yourself. You look younger and more powerful. Who knows if those oaths are still applicable?” Magnus Sterling, the ICW’s head of internal affairs, said.
“Ah, so that’s what most of you old bastards are after,” I nodded, as if I had just solved a great puzzle, ignoring all the affronted gasps and retorts. “That’s easy. You just need to study magic again, from a fresh perspective, and create a new branch of magic. At least, that’s what I did and what my staff at Hogwarts are doing.” I nodded, looking at them and ignoring all the scoffs, eye-rolls, and head shakes I received. These people just wouldn't believe me.
“Yeah, right.” “As if it were that easy.” “You can just say you won’t help.” “That’s an unbelievable lie.”
I ignored most of the retorts and looked toward the rest. “So, what else was there?”
“Your use of the Protego Diabolica spell…” a weak voice added, helpfully.
“Right, that. Okay, I admit to that one. I was very emotional at the time. Witnessing monsters eating my past students was not something I expected, so I unleashed a spell I knew would inflict the most pain while also destroying them completely,” I admitted with a conflicted expression. That was a memory I didn’t want to revisit.
The people in the room exchanged looks; some had a grimace on their faces, some just closed their eyes while others shook their heads as if trying to forcefully expel a thought or a picture from their heads.
Before I or anyone else could add anything else to the conversation, alarms started blaring throughout the building.
“What’s happening?” I stood up quickly, as did the rest of the people in the room. The door to the meeting chamber burst open with a bang, and two young wizards came running in.
“&):&@:@:&:&” the two of them spoke at the same time, but the security wards, noise, and alarms made it impossible to understand what they said.
Clap. Clap.
I clapped my magically charged hands twice, silencing and deactivating everything around us, before turning to look at the two young men in ICW Magical Enforcer uniforms.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Sir, it’s Nurmengard! The escape alarm is on!” “Gellert Grindelwald has escaped his cell!” the two of them spoke over each other, delivering slightly different information.
“That’s not possible. Gellert doesn’t have the power to escape…” I muttered, feigning shock and disbelief. “We must investigate this immediately…”
“Did you send an investigation unit?” I asked the two, making them nod instantly. “Yes, sir, they departed as soon as they identified the nature of the alarm.”
“That’s good…” I nodded slightly. “Okay, good job. You can go.” And they scurried away.
I plopped back into my seat and sighed, my hand sweeping over my face and through my hair. “This is not good news,” I muttered in a voice just loud enough for those nearby to hear.
“Sigh, okay, sit down so we can continue this while waiting for the investigation results,” I said, looking at the now-panicking old people, trying my hardest not to burst out laughing.
“How can you be this calm?” “That’s Grindelwald!” “We need to find him as soon as possible!” “This is a nightmare!” “Why couldn’t he just die in there?” “How did he escape?”
“Sit down and stay calm!” I said in a loud voice, snapping them out of their panicked states. “Act your age; the youngest here is in his late forties. Comport yourselves accordingly.”
“Sigh, I have seen enough.” An aged voice resounded in the room, and I turned my head to look. It was Nicolas.
He had been quietly observing everything since the beginning, but I guessed the current state of the room had finally bothered him.
“Nicolas, old friend, how are you?” I smiled at him.
“Not as good as you, apparently,” he replied, giving me a head-to-toe look.
“Still, we have things to address, so please, everyone, take your seats and let’s continue,” Nicolas continued, looking at the few who hadn’t sat down yet.
“Now, let’s start talking about the important thing first,” he said, looking at me. “Tell me, Albus, what’s this I hear about a dimensional invasion or world assimilation?”
“Oh, you heard about that?” I asked with an impressed tone. “I thought they buried the information until they had solid evidence. As for the world merger, that’s my theory for what’s happening, which results in anomalies being transported from one reality to another.”
“Just some rumors that reached my ears in Paris,” Nicolas said with a smile.
“Rumors, right?” I shook my head. “All of it should have been obvious since we’ve interrogated a number of strays and monsters, but as you know, humans love to rationalize things, and magic just makes that so much easier.”
He nodded as he looked around, his eyes sweeping the room.
“And your evidence is?” Nicolas asked again.
“This,” I said, summoning the Archive interface into existence, making him and almost everybody else in the room blink. “The readings I’ve gathered suggest that magical density levels are constantly rising, among other spatial disturbances and foreign energy signatures. There are many factors that lead me to believe my theory is correct.”
“Hmm, let me connect to it later so I can examine the changes myself,” he nodded. As he spoke, he glanced toward the door.
I knew why; several people were approaching. The door to the meeting chamber opened, and a few individuals in uniforms entered.
“Sir, we have confirmed that Gellert Grindelwald escaped his holding cell in Nurmengard,” the one leading them said.
“Do we have any idea how he did it?”
“We do not know, sir. There weren't any recognizable magical signatures at the scene.”
“Okay then, thank you for your hard work. Dismissed.” I nodded, and they filed out.
There wasn’t as much panic this time, but tension still hung thick in the air. It was clear we had to cut the meeting short.
“It seems we have to adjourn this meeting early,” I announced. “We all need to return to our own countries and begin the search for Gellert. We cannot allow him to regain his power.”
“Yeah.” “True.” “We should.” “He can’t be allowed to remain free.”
Murmurs filled the chamber as everyone started to stand and walk out as if possessed. The older generation, those who had been alive during Grindelwald’s reign, were more hurried and panicky in their exit. Not that I could blame them.
“Dumbledore-sama.” A somewhat familiar voice called for me, and I turned to see who it was. “I don’t know if you remember me, I am Kenji Hino…”
“Yes, Kenji, the Japanese representative. I remember you,” I smiled and shook his hand.
“It’s an honor to be remembered by you, sir,” he said with a happy smile.
“So, what can I do for you, Kenji?”
“I just wanted to set a date for your arrival at Mahoutokoro Academy of Magic…”
“Oh, you can set a date for any time next week. Just inform me using your Archive, and I will be there,” I said with a smile, giving him a pat on the shoulder.
“Oh, thank you, sir! You can come by anytime next week, at your convenience.”
“I will inform you of the specific day later, then.”
“Yes, thank you for your time, sir. Excuse me.” He bowed slightly and left.
“Well then, how about you accompany me to the door, Albus?” I heard Nicolas’s voice as he walked past me.
“Of course, old friend,” I said, falling into step beside him. “How’s Perenelle?”
“She’s doing well. And you? How did you truly return to your youth?”
“Didn’t I just explain it?” I asked rhetorically.
“I am old, Albus, not stupid,” he deadpanned, making me chuckle.
“That is the truth, though,” I shrugged. “You can try doing the same thing; I’m sure you too can achieve it.”
“I am too old to be bothered by such things. Do you have any idea how many memories one accumulates after more than six hundred and sixty years?” Nicolas shook his head. “Still, you need to get a better cover story than this.”
“Like the one you used for the Philosopher’s Stone?”
“Hmm?” He cocked an eyebrow at me.
“You know, the one where it just extends life but doesn’t keep the body young?” I clarified, noticing how his eyes sharpened for a second before returning to their previous state.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, shaking his head with a smile.
“Sure, let’s go with that,” I shrugged, as if it were no concern of mine, before summoning the Archive interface again. “Here, just tap your wand on it, and you will be connected,” I informed him. “I’ll give you the same level of access as me so that you can connect Perenelle, too.”
“Hmm,” he hummed in agreement as he touched the interface with his wand. His eyes widened slightly. “A mental magic?”
“Yep. The first ever physically manifested mental magic,” I nodded proudly.
“Nicely done,” he complimented. “You have come a long way since you were young.”
“At least this time I played to my strengths instead of stubbornly trying to become a master alchemist,” I laughed.
“Yes, I’m sure Perenelle will be delighted to play with this,” he commented.
We continued to talk about various things—me explaining how to navigate the Archive and my plans for the upcoming crisis—until we reached the exit.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come by?” Nicolas asked. “Perenelle would be delighted to see you again.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t. I have some unfinished business at the Ministry back in Britain,” I shook my head regretfully.
“Oh well, I tried,” he said with a smile before taking out his pocket watch, saying the word “home,” and activating his own Portkey to transport himself away.
I, on the other hand, simply willed myself back into my room at Hogwarts, leaving with a fiery display of phoenix teleportation.
Scree!
I heard Fawkes’s melodramatic cry as soon as I arrived in my room, making me shake my head in amusement.
He was still salty about the fact that I had learned his teleportation method.
“No, Fawkes, I am not going to forget you,” I said, taking a few sweets from my inner pocket and handing them to him.
Scree!
“Yes, I will keep using you for long-distance teleportation. Today was just an exception.”
Scree!
“Yes, I promise,” I sighed as I stroked the feathers under his beak, making him sing in contentment.
I sat down on my bed and opened the Archive interface to see what Gellert and Nicolas were doing. I found that Gellert was in a deep-dive session, studying my notes and ideas on word magic, solid script, and how to write runes in the air to cast spells, create barriers, or enchant things quickly.
He doesn't know this, but when he solidifies a theory, I will grant him temporary access to my Archmage Essence and activate the full blessing on him, reinforcing his belief in the ascension theory.
‘Still, what kind of magic will he create?’ I felt almost giddy at the prospect.
As for Nicolas, he and Perenelle were still scanning and analyzing the Archive. That, too, was a win for me; they were using spells I had never seen before.
‘Still, it’s best not to alert them that I’m… keeping an eye on them,’ I thought as I let the Archive record everything. ‘As long as they believe they have the highest level of access and that no one can acquire their knowledge without their knowledge…’
Heheheh. I love it when a plan comes together.
A slight shiver ran down my spine. I shook my head. I could see why villains loved making plans and manipulating others. It was fun. But I should really control myself.
