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Dumbledore: ch 3
🕑 Added 2025-09-19 11:26:52 +0000 UTC[Ministry Auditorium No. 1]
The air in the Ministry’s main auditorium was thick, charged, and chaotic with anticipation.
After a full week of frustrating silence and rampant speculation, the wizarding world's most influential figures had finally been summoned to an open conference. Albus Dumbledore was breaking his silence.
A vast crowd was in attendance. Reporters from across the globe—from *The Daily Prophet*, *The New York Ghost*, *La Gazette Magique de France*, and dozens of other publications—jostled and argued for the best positions, their quills poised.
The world's most powerful figures were there as well, seated in a place of honor: the Ministers of Magic from Britain, France, Germany, and Russia; the stern-faced President of MACUSA; and a solemn delegation of high-ranking representatives from the International Confederation of Wizards.
All of them waited, a silent tension building beneath the cacophony, each person present hoping for answers to their own pressing questions.
The din of a hundred simultaneous conversations—a mixture of nervous chatter, laughter, gossip, and in some cases, outright shouting—filled the vast hall. Then, a single sound sliced through the noise, stunning the crowd into immediate, absolute silence.
SCREEEEEECH!
The piercing cry of a phoenix echoed through the auditorium, accompanied by a blinding flash of flame and raw, untamed magic. From the heart of the fire, a figure materialized directly on the stage.
The man who stood before them was not the elderly, flamboyantly dressed headmaster they expected. He was tall and powerfully built, with a neatly trimmed black beard shot through with distinguished streaks of white. A full head of auburn hair framed a face that was now strikingly youthful, its features sharpened and clear behind a pair of half-moon spectacles that glinted over eyes of brilliant, piercing blue.
He was clad not in garish robes, but in a formidable four-piece suit of deepest black, over which he wore a long, elegant dueling coat that whispered of power and tradition. Strapped to his thigh was a practical wand holster, completing the image not of a kindly grandfather, but of a battle-hardened wizard from a bygone era, resurrected in his prime.
"Ahem, hello everyone," the figure—now identified by many in the older generation as Dumbledore—greeted them with a calm smile.
And so the gates of hell opened, and the shouting began.
X_
[Dumbledore]
Looking out at the hundreds of attendants shouting chaotically in the hall, I couldn't help but sigh internally.
Clap… Clap…
Two hands charged with magic, a carefully measured release of my aura, and a single, sharp clap were all that was needed to silence the shouting and bring the chaos to heel.
I sighed audibly. "There's no need for such chaos. We can all sit down, enjoy a drink, and talk about what you wish to know. There's no need to rush. The news will be delivered, questions will be answered, and worries will be quelled. So please, settle down, and let us begin." My tone was calm, and my voice seemed to reach every corner of the vast hall.
I did not use the usual *Sonorus* charm to amplify my voice. This was simply an application of pure magical control. You infuse your vocal cords with magic and speak while holding a clear intent, and the magic does the rest.
I caught sight of one of the reporters standing up, the first to shake off the slight compulsion layered within my tone.
"Monsieur Dumbledore," she began, her voice carrying a crisp French accent. "My name is Marie Laprón, and I am a reporter for *La Gazette Magique de France*."
"Well, hello, Mademoiselle," I nodded at her, my smile polite and inviting. "What can I do for you on this fine morning?"
"Monsieur Dumbledore, there are rumors that all the anomalies happening this past week were your doing… what is your comment on that?" she asked, a proud look on her face.
"Haha," I chuckled. "There have been a lot of rumors this past week. I even read one that claimed I was dead and my body was being animated by some necromantic ritual… an article I found amusing, relieving, and disappointing all at once." I shook my head, knowing full well that this was not her question.
"You see, I found it amusing because, well, it was funny, at least to me… relieving and disappointing for the same reason—because the author clearly knows nothing about necromancy beyond its name…" I sighed as I noticed people giving me odd looks.
"Anyway, to your question, I do not know which specific anomaly you're referring to. But if it is the widespread healing phenomenon, then yes, that was my doing. Unconscious, but my doing all the same…" I finally answered, and she sat down as the person next to her stood up.
"Alex Grant, *New York Ghost*, Mr. Dumbledore," he introduced himself.
"Ah, you're here too? I haven't read your paper since the Grindelwald war, but welcome all the same." I gave a hearty chuckle, making him smile slightly.
"Ah, I am sorry to hear that, Mr. Dumbledore, but our question is the one I think everyone here wants answered… what happened? Who did you fight?"
"Technically, those are two questions, but I'll allow it. So, let's start with the obvious. What happened? I do not know… and please, don't look at me like that; I've had enough of those looks from my staff since yesterday…" I shook my head as I heard a few people in the audience laugh.
"But in all honesty, I truly do not know. I went to investigate a tip about a 'stray' sighted near Hogwarts. I followed protocol and embarked on an urgent extermination mission. We fought, and I nearly lost, but in the end, I managed to prevail somehow…" I answered them truthfully, for that was precisely what the old me remembered.
"But that doesn't explain why you're young again!" someone shouted from the audience.
"Indeed, it does not…" I replied, letting the silence hang for a moment. "The truth is, I do not know how it occurred. My best working theory is that I advanced in my rank as a wizard and finally reached the same heights as those notable figures of the past… Merlin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Slytherin, to name a few."
"Adolf Leinintag, *Berliner Zauberzeitung*, Mr. Dumbledore," a new deep masculine voice cuts in, and asked with a tone tinged with mockery. "Don't you think it is rather presumptuous to compare yourself to such legendary figures?"
'Ah, my sacrificial lamb, it's good to meet you,' I thought, my internal smirk never reaching my face. I was not one to be upset by mockery—Merlin knows I have heard my fair share—but I had plans that needed advancing, and this was the perfect opening to lay a cornerstone…
"Ah, I can see why you might think that," I said with a soft smile. "So I will apologize in advance for this." I let a fraction of my tightly leashed magical pressure loose.
X_
The entire auditorium felt as if gravity had suddenly doubled or tripled. The air grew dense and heavy; hairline fractures spiderwebbed across the walls; people began to faint; and those in the front rows felt they were staring at something not entirely human.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the overwhelming pressure vanished. It was as if the terrifying sensation had been nothing but a figment of their collective imagination.
If not for the clearly visible consequences—the pale, shaken faces, the cracks marring the walls—everyone present would have gladly believed it a mass hallucination.
A wave of golden magical energy washed over everything and everyone in the room, reviving those who had fainted and repairing the damaged hall in an instant.
"Ah, I must apologize for that once again," Albus Dumbledore's voice swept through the room, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of every single soul. "But we simply do not have the time to entertain baseless theories and conspiracies today."
"Now then," he continued, his expression shifting to one of mild exasperation. "Let's continue with the questions. I'm afraid I still have a great many meetings to attend…" He made a comically weary face that clearly communicated just how busy his day would be.
"Ah, Professor Dumbledore, sir, Anthony McDogal here from the *Global New Daily*, sir…" a nervous voice called out. A young man in his late twenties was standing, clearly more nervous now than ever.
"Ah, Anthony, my boy, how have you been? It is good to see a Hogwarts student working hard to achieve his dreams. How is the ICW treating you? The newspaper department is under Public Relations, which, sadly, I have very little authority over as the Supreme Mugwump, so I am not privy to its workings…" Dumbledore spoke with a wide smile, visibly pleased to see a former student.
"Ahaha, it's all good, Professor." The reporter—Anthony—chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his head. "Anyway, Professor, our question is, could this advancement of yours be taught?"
"Oh, that is an excellent question. I don't see why not. Let me tell you my experience, and you can decide for yourself…" Dumbledore nodded, his eyes twinkling. "You see, my theory is that achieving such a feat requires a fundamental shift in one's perspective on magic. In my case, after I finally slew the stray, I was left there, too exhausted to move, too drained to do anything but wait for death. In those final moments—or what I believed were my final moments—my life flashed before my eyes."
Dumbledore's tone was wistfully reminiscent; he spoke as if he hadn't feared death at all. "So there I was, watching everything I had ever done since childhood, and I began paying the utmost focus and attention. I felt as though I were studying magic anew, from the most basic principles to the most complex arcanum. And I did it all with a much older, much wiser mind… that is all I did…" he finished, smiling serenely.
A profound silence filled the hall. People struggled to digest what they had just heard. The younger attendees dreamed of achieving such power and plotted how to do so. The older, wiser officials were on a different train of thought entirely, for they knew—or could well imagine—just how impossible such a feat truly was.
To view magic from a truly fresh perspective is a Herculean task. Some would say it is nearly impossible. It was a testament to the prodigious talent of Albus Dumbledore.
The interview continued for another half hour, with questions ranging from "What's your advice for young wizards and witches who want to reach your level?" to "Now that you are young again, do you intend to marry?" and "Is it true that you didn't marry because you are a 'wizard's wizard'?" Some even dared to ask if it was true that he had been Grindelwald's lover and that was why he never married…
Dumbledore answered everything with a patient smile; he even fired back a few sarcastic jibes at the German and French reporters who tried to resurrect the Dumbledore-Grindelwald rumors.
He understood their perspective—France and Germany had been among the nations most devastated by Gellert Grindelwald's reign—but they held very little love for the man who had ended it.
In the end, the reporters were anything but satisfied, but their time was up; they were escorted from the Ministry's auditorium, along with most of the other attendees, leaving only those who held significant power and political sway behind.
However, the auditorium was too vast for such an intimate meeting, and so they were relocated to one of the Ministry's secure meeting halls.
X_
[Meeting Hall No. 3, East Wing, Third Floor]
The select group was led into a far more intimate yet no less imposing space. The room was dominated by a vast conference table carved from a single, petrified slab of bog oak, its surface polished to a dark, mirror-like sheen and inlaid with glowing silver tracery—tracery that was, in fact, a manifestation of some of the most potent privacy wards and enchantments ever woven.
High-backed chairs of plum velvet and polished brass surrounded it, their frames twisted into the forms of magical creatures whose gemstone eyes seemed to watch the room's powerful new occupants.
The very air was still and ozonated, as if magically scrubbed of all impurities. The walls were panels of dark mahogany, their grain slowly shifting to reveal moving landscapes of global wonders, while the ceiling was enchanted to mimic a perpetual twilight sky, where unknown constellations of diamond-bright stars provided a soft, focused light.
This was a chamber designed not for public spectacle, but for the rare but necessary meetings of the magical world's most powerful.
"Alright, now that we are seated, let me call this meeting to session," Dumbledore's voice cut through the air, his calm and easy-going tone fostering a deceptively relaxed atmosphere.
"Alright, Dumbledore, let's start with what you didn't share with the public," the stern-faced President of MACUSA, Emily Jackson, said, her voice clipped and concise.
"Ah, Emily, still as stiff as ever, I see," Dumbledore quipped. His joke was not well-received, judging by the slight scowl on her face.
"And for your information, I did not withhold much from public knowledge, only information I deemed likely to cause unnecessary civil unrest…" Dumbledore said, his tone turning serious.
"And those are?…" asked the french minister, Jacques Delacour, a portly man of short stature.
"Ah, the facts that the stray was Voldemort, and that I know the cause of the recent anomalies," Dumbledore stated. His happy-go-lucky attitude was not appreciated, though most in the room wisely kept their displeasure to themselves.
The feeling of his magic and power was still fresh in their minds.
"Dumbledore!!! You can't joke about that! Voldemort is dead!!!" Cornelius Fudge, the British Minister of Magic, seemed to have forgotten himself as he shot up from his seat, pointing a shaking finger at Dumbledore.
"Ah, Cornelius, I assure you, I am not lying. You needn't worry about him, however, for I know how he cheated death, and I will be handling his case personally in the coming days…" Dumbledore's measured and calm voice swept through the room.
"Ah, if you say so… then it must be. Hahah," Fudge said awkwardly as he sat back down, his spine feeling as if it had been cursed with a freezing charm.
"If that is handled, then let's discuss the anomalies," Emily said, eager to learn the cause of such phenomena.
"Yes, I too believe we should start there," Amelia Bones affirmed, prompting most people around the table to nod or voice their agreement.
"Okay. So, as we all know, a decade and a few years ago, the anomalies began to appear: new ley lines forming, displacing, or in some cases disappearing; new monsters emerging, such as the creatures later identified as 'stray devils,'" Dumbledore recapped, earning nods of agreement.
"Through questioning sentient monsters, we learned of devils turning Muggles into slaves, or some nonsense about gods… most of us here are aware of this, correct?" Again, everyone nodded.
"Okay so, let’s hit pause on those facts and start with what I did not tell the public—that there is one final step required for a wizard or witch to achieve my rank: the creation of a new magic or a revolutionary new application of an existing branch…" Dumbledore lied through his teeth, doing so with a smile and a saintly expression.
"So, Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you my newly developed magic: Archive Magic." He announced this as a transparent, screen-like frame materialized in front of him, alerting almost everyone in the room. Some even stood up, wands drawn and ready to cast.
“Peace… peace. Why are you all so jumpy?” Dumbledore chuckled good-naturedly. “And why are you pointing wands at me? You truly stand no chance, even if everyone here worked together.” He informed them with a light laugh.
His remark was not meant as mockery, though some undoubtedly took it that way. It was merely a statement of fact, followed by a quiet laugh at what he saw as a humorous situation.
“Still, we would appreciate it if you did not cast magic so suddenly,” said a man on the left side of the table.
Dumbledore didn’t recognize him, but judging by his ornate robes, the man was an ICW delegate.
“Anyway, as I was saying, this is my new magic,” Dumbledore continued, ignoring the man entirely. “It is a permanent, always-active mind-type magic that I have installed at Hogwarts.” He looked at the faces of everyone in the room.
“This magic is not offensive, defensive, white, or dark. It is an archive. A system for the collection and storage of magical data. It converts information into a magical medium and allows those connected to it to share said data.” Dumbledore paused to take a sip of water before continuing. “Additionally, it can tap into ambient environmental magic to analyze phenomena, among other minor features.”
Dumbledore was, of course, once again twisting and omitting key facts, but they did not need to know that.
“And you are telling us this why?” Jacques Delacour asked.
“Ah, I am glad you asked…” Dumbledore smiled and said, “I am telling you this because when I created this magic, I got a glimpse of the true scope of these anomalous events… Ladies and gentlemen, if I am not wrong, then we are either being invaded or our world is assimilating and conjoining with another,” he revealed, drawing some gasps, frowns or, in the case of Fudge, outrage.
“Preposterous! You cannot expect us to believe this just because you said so, right?” Fudge yelled again, but this time he did not point his fingers, nor was he standing alone like a fool, for some of the delegates stood up with him as well.
“Sit down, Fudge, and you too!” Amelia Bones and Emily Jackson said at the same time, before looking at one another, nodding, and turning their attention back to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore, on his part, was looking at them with a soft smile, as if the commotion had nothing to do with him.
“Dumbledore, as rude as Fudge was just now, he did raise a good point. Why do you expect us to believe you?” Emily asked, looking directly into his eyes.
"Haha, I do not…” Dumbledore, as always, said the unexpected. “I do not care what you believe. I may be the Supreme Mugwump, but even I can’t force the magical world to listen to me. What I want you to do is to connect to the Archive and use it to analyze the phenomenon yourselves. That way, you can decide what you want to do on your own,” he explained, making almost everyone in the room pause.
“And you expect us to learn and cast an untested magic?” the German Minister of Magic, Konrad Adler asked.
“Hahahah, that is a good joke,” Dumbledore laughed. “You could learn it, and even if you could, you wouldn't be able to cast it. It would take nearly everyone here working together to cast it, and it would only be active for about a minute… Did you not hear me when I said that it’s always active? That means even now, I am powering the magic with more magic than everyone here has—combined.”
Silence filled the room as the unexpected revelation poured a bucket of ice water on the ambitions of those who knew the true worth of such a magic and wanted it for themselves.
“And how do you expect us to connect to the magic, as you said?” Amelia Bones asked.
“That is easy. I want you to create a link that will make it possible for you to access the magic without expending an exorbitant amount of your own power,” Albus explained, but his explanation was met with blank faces.
“Ok, how do I explain this better?” he asked himself. “Oh, I know! Do you know about the new Muggle invention? The computer thingy?”
His question once again drew blank faces from most of the meeting's participants.
“I know what you are talking about, Dumbledore-sama,” the Japanese representative said, one of the few who knew.
“Ok, then let me explain. You know how they have these machines that connect with one another?” Dumbledore began, and got a few nods from those who knew. “Well, that’s where I got the inspiration from. Hogwarts acts as the main connection point; I function as the power source and server; and you each will be connecting to it, thus gaining access to its functions.”
“Sasuga, Dumbledore-sama. This is a revolutionary concept and magic…” the Japanese representative, whose name Dumbledore still hadn't gotten, looked at him with star-struck eyes.
“Doesn’t that mean people will have access to Hogwarts?” a man standing between the French and German ministers asked.
“No, you will just get access to cast the magic and use it. Nothing else,” Dumbledore answered.
“Dumbledore-sama, can we get a secondary access point installed in Japan?” the Japanese representative interjected.
“Hmm, I don't see why not, though it will have to be installed in Mahoutokoro School of Magic, as the location and magical environment are ideal. Plus, you can have the professors connect to it, share their knowledge, perspectives, and magical research. Who knows? You might have a solid chance of producing another wizard of my rank,” Dumbledore said, making the representative smile.
“Dumbledore, don't you think that magic like this should stay in Britain…?” Fudge was about to say something foolish before he suddenly shut up, as a magical weight descended on the room for a split second before it vanished.
“Do I have to remind you that we are facing extradimensional threats here, people?” Dumbledore said sternly, as everyone in the room straightened their backs.
“As I said, if you want the same deal as Japan, then that's fine. Over the next month, I will visit the magical schools in your countries to install a secondary connection point to help more people connect to the Archive. As for everyone here, you can just point your wand and touch the screen. You will gain access and will learn how to use it with time.”
The discussion continued for more than an hour, with many people choosing to trust Dumbledore and connect to the Archive.
Many other points were discussed after that, such as setting meeting dates, invitations, and other administrative matters.
X_
[Hogwarts Castle]
The residents of the castle, be they students or professors, were having lunch in the Great Hall when suddenly, a flock of owls started arriving, carrying the newly-issued *Daily Prophet*.
It turned out that as soon as the reporters were ushered out, they started sending their notes back for publication; a new, urgent issue of their respective papers had been issued, detailing what happened during the meeting with Dumbledore.
Inside the walls of Hogwarts Castle, sitting at the Gryffindor table, was a teenager named Cassius White…
[Cassius White]
Reading the paper his owl, Athena, had delivered, he couldn’t help but frown. He knew that all his canon and future knowledge was thrown out the window when he didn't receive his invitation to Hogwarts when he was eleven, but this was too much of a deviation.
He knew the ROB he met felt sketchy, but he was just a recently dead teenager who was happy to gain a new life, cheats, and a system.
“System, you said there wouldn't be much of a deviation from the original timeline,” he hissed inside his mind.
< Insufficient data… >
“What a useless system. All it does is give missions and sell stuff. Ugh,” he complained before muttering in defeat, “Just show me my stats.”
[Stats]
Name: Cassius White (Black)
Race: Human
Job: Wizard
Str: 12 (Average human stat is between 6-10)
Agi: 13
Int: 17
Chr: 11
Mag: 340
Skills and Traits:
Metamorphmagus: The ability to change your appearance at will.
Sharp Mind: The ability to retain information quickly.
Hentai Physiology: The ability to have sex and impregnate any creature…
(Points: 114)
Shop: Closed
“System, when will my shop open?” he asked.
< Error… Unknown >
“Ugh, useless system.”
Still, not all things were bad. At least he had magic now, he was learning how to cast magic, as well as enjoying his new life. Plus the Harry Potter in this world was a girl and he was her friend so he believed he had a decent chance with her.
Even if he couldn’t, it wouldn’t matter. He would move to Japan as soon as he finishes his fifth year, and will get to meet Rias Gremory and ask her to let him join her peerage. Or maybe Sona sitri is better?
I can make a harem then and live my life with comfort while letting the protagonists deal with future troubles…
Yeah, this could work…
“Hey Cassius, what are you thinking about so deeply?” A voice interrupted his day-dreaming and planning time but it was ok. She was a waifu candidate of his…
“Ah, Hermione. I was just wondering if the papers are telling the truth” he lied
“Oh, yes… can you believe this!! Our headmaster is as strong as Merlin!!!!” Hermione said in an excited tone
“Wait what? Where did it say that??” Cassius asked as he took the papers into his hand again cursing his habit of skimming through texts without reading them properly in his head
‘Well, I’ll be damned, how did I miss this’ he thought as he saw the article in the first page…
