HP: Magic of the End

One Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had a very long month.

First, he learns that his school will have Dementors instead of Aurors guards – "It's much cheaper and more efficient, Albus, can't you see that?" Fudge said, the bastard – trying to find Sirius Black, the man who betrayed the Potters and was one of the main causes of their death. Then, he admits, in a much smaller incident, young Malfoy was attacked by one of the Hippogriffs in response to some rather… impolite comment.

The arrival of young Khromov was another incident that opened up too many old scars on Albus's soul and filled him with a dozen unanswered questions. How can an ordinary boy with repressed magic change his race to a completely different one, especially one that no one should know about?

Reports of stray zombies in South China, skeletons in Central Mexico, and strange green spider-legged creatures that blew up their victims along with themselves in Yakutia didn't fill him with confidence. No sir.

If these were times of war, he could at least partly believe that the appearance of so many undead creatures at the same time was an attempt to destabilize the magical community, but right now the world was more or less calm. Except for the appearance of another self-named Dark Lord in Spain, who has already been disposed of.

For a relatively tame magical community, they sure had a lot of Dark Lords wannabes.

For a moment, the strange appearance of undead went unanswered.

Albus had a headache, and yet he still hasn’t thought about all the petty conflicts that took place in the school itself on a daily basis. He knew the Professors were getting tired of taking points and passing off detentions for clearly racist behavior, – even if it was based on blood – but there was nothing he could do about it. Every time a lesson about tolerance finally got through to any of the kids, their family or friends ran them into the value of blood purity again. It was a debilitating cycle of unfounded – political, in other words – hatred that even Dumbledore could not break.

One could call the pureblood movement racist, but the racism towards purity on one's blood was almost as baseless as normal racism. Well, regular racism, it wasn't normal by any means. Who seriously believed that so-called pure-blooded wizards hated Muggle-borns for stealing their magic?

Unfortunately, Dumbledore knew the answer to that question. Not only the wizards of the Light side believed this, but many wizards of the Dark side also did.

Repeat the lie so often that it becomes the new truth.

If one decides to dig deeper, the first mention of pure blood appeared in the legends of Salazar Slytherin, where the founder of Hogwarts praised those with magical up ring and slings mud at Muggle-borns. Few people chose to look into the situation even more deeply, preferring to see Salazar as the Dark Lord without even trying to find out how and why the man thought the way that he did.

The blood purists believed in their agenda. That people who weren't born of third-generation magical marriage didn't deserve their magic. That the world would be a better place if all half-bloods, mudbloods and muggles were either dead or slaves under the feet of pureblood families.

It was surprisingly funny, in some dark, twisted way, especially considering that only twenty-eight families were considered true purebloods, most of which were on the verge of extinction. And because of what? Because of – Dumbledore winced – inbreeding and the last two wars.

Dumbledore didn't often think about the longstanding problems of the magical community in Britain, or even the world. They settled so deeply in society that it was already impossible to destroy them, to change something. Maybe this would be possible if the powerful of the world of politics were organized and started counter-propaganda, but the Dark Families would never allow this.

"Maybe you were right about something, Gellert," the old man muttered. "We need to change."

Albus leaned back in his chair and grabbed a lemon sherbet from the table. He always found the name of these sweets a bit humorous, at least because they never once resembled real sherbet. But as soon as the candy was near his mouth, something on the shelf to the left of the wizard began to click menacingly.

Albus stopped, looked at the mechanical bird on the shelf of his bookcase, looked at the candy again, and slowly put it back into the glass bowl. "Well, it looks like young Khromov has some guests over. Maybe I should check on how things are going." He said to himself, still looking at the candy. "Oh, well, why not."

With a sour candy in his mouth, Albus started down the stairs to fourth floor. The intruders in Dan's room were the perfect opportunity to make friends! Especially if they were the ones that Albus was thinking of.

"Friendship, such a wonderful thing," he chuckled.

Two teenagers and one monster were sitting opposite each other, talking about the history of magical Britain. Dan tried to jog his memory to see if something had changed in the timeline.

"... So, this Voldemort attacked the Potter family, killed Lily and James Potter, tried to kill Harry, but died like a bitch." Dan said and the twins nodded in response. It was handy, listening to the history of the world from someone who had lived it, even if the twins were still children at the time. "Huh… That's weird. And what happened next?" He asked.

Fred – Forge's real name – scratched his chin in thought. "Actually, nothing special, at least not on the scale of the war. All the Death Eaters were caught and sent to Azkaban. Of course, some more important were able to buy their freedom by claiming to be under the influence of the Imperius, but I don't believe this crap. For now, Pureblood families still sit in the high positions of the Wizingamoth, and the half-bloods and the muggle-borns are either leaving Britain or looking for work on the non-magical side."

George nodded in confirmation. "Life is quieter now than it was during the war, but not as good as it could have been. Although politicians are still trying to push laws in favor of the purebloods, Dumbledore and his allies keep them on a tight leash. Ms. Black is especially brutal in dealing with opposition." He laughed.

Dan frowned, which was a quite difficult task, considering his facial structure. "Who?"

"Bellatrix Black, Harry's adopted mother." Fred said. "She's in the gray faction, taking the seats of the Potters and the Blacks."

"Ha!" George grinned. "I still remember the time she sent Harry a howler about how proud she was that he was in Gryffindor, not like the rest of her family. The poor boy was so red I was afraid he would explode."

Dan was no longer listening to George's story; he was stuck too deep in his head. 'Bellatrix isn't in Azkaban? Wasn't she the crazy bitch that tortured Longass's – Longbottom's? – parents? Fuck, where am I?' He blinked a couple of times, not that the twins could see through his goggles.

"And Sirius Black? I've heard a lot about him, but I don't know why the Ministry is looking for him." Dan asked, fishing for more information. He thought Sirius was falsely accused, like in the original, but if Bella was free–

"Ah, that one…" George muttered, "he doesn't have a family name, he's just Sirius. A traitor to the Potters, who pretended to be their friend for years. He confessed to being part of the Death Eaters under Visetarium." Fred nodded and continued instead of his brother. "He killed Peter Pettigrew in front of fifty witnesses to break the enchantments on the Potter house. No one suspected he was a traitor until that moment."

Dan massaged his temples, trying endlessly to ward off the migraine that was threatening to overtake his leathery ass. 'This… changes things. So, even my minimal knowledge of the canon will be practically useless. Is Voldemort even still alive? Maybe he died on the sly, while no one saw and disappeared from people's lives?' He chuckled. 'Nah, my luck isn't that high. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to escape Britain before the war starts, if not, I'll have to personally break the bald bastard's neck.' Dan shuddered and rubbed his arms, trying to drive away the terrible thought. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"Danil, you're speaking Russian, it's quite rude to those who don't know your language." An old voice sounded in the room and the twins turned towards Dumbledore without making a sound. "Good night, Mr. and Mr. Weasley. A good night to keep each other's secrets, right?" He asked, offering them a silent deal. They wouldn't tell anything about Dan and Dumbledore would forget he saw them tonight. The twins nodded quickly and the old man smiled even wider "I think it's time for you to return to the common rooms."

Fred grinned. "Which ones, sir? The closest is Hufflepuff. Of course, I don't mind talking to a couple– Ay!" He exclaimed, feeling George's elbow digging in his ribs. "That's right, sir! We'll do it right now, sir!"

George grabbed his twin by the shoulders and dragged him out of the room, avoiding the gaze of interested portraits.

"Interesting family, Weasleys, every child I've seen in this Castle becomes someone special. Made new friends, Dan?" Dumbledore asked as he sat down on the conjured chair.

Dan scratched his cheek with his claws and looked away. "Da…?"

"I'll break your fucking neck if you don't shut up!" Dan yelled as he held both twins by their robes.

"Fuck you!" The two shouted back and continued to try to break free from his stranglehold.

At the moment when two spells flew towards Dan, he teleported behind the twins and grabbed the wands from their hands. He tossed them onto the table, where Mantis quickly picked them up and dragged them aside. The red-haired guys tried to run past him to get to their wands, but they couldn't dodge his long arms. He held them above the ground like naughty kittens and shook them to finally calm them down. Obviously, they didn't like that.

"What the hell are you even doing in my room?!" He asked, lifting Gred and Forge higher so they were level with his eyes. Fortunately, his goggles were in place.

"We don't need your room! We were just looking for some free space!" Forge said as he tried to kick Dan in the ribs. His legs were too short to reach the target, sadly.

"Then look in the far west wing, after the Perfect's chambers! There's literally no one there! Even the fucking rats don't go in that wing because it's empty! Six hundred students for a huge castle and two idiots can't find one free room?" Dan asked himself more than the twins.

"Hey!" Apparently, he didn't speak quietly enough.

"Both of you. Shut up." Dan brought the brothers uncomfortably close to his face and ignored their kicks to his torso. He didn't feel it anyway. "I can teleport you to the bottom of the Black Lake where no one will ever find you, so be good boys and shut your mouths," he growled.

They fell silent and looked at each other again, Dan thought it was some special way of magical communication, but he could not be sure. His vast ignorance of the magical world had affected the quality of his threats terribly, he imagined. But oddly enough, Gred and Forge became silent and stopped moving, so Dan slowly set them down on the floor. He walked over to the table and picked up the book he had been reading earlier, watching the twins out of the corner of his eye. Wizards and witches, he learned, were practically defenseless without their wands, so the twins were harmless in his eyes.

"Good," he said. "Now we will wait for one of the professors to come, I'm sure one of them put wards on the entrance to this room." The twins quickly turned white at his words.

"Erm, Mr. Monster Man, can't you let us go?" "Yes, preferably right now." "Conversations with professors after curfew is bad for our health, you see." The twins spoke in a strange way that reminded Dan more of a ping pong match. "A terrible fate will befall those who meet the professor so late at night, many believe." Grеd– Forge? Dan had lost who was who again, so he returned to the number system.

"No. Especially since the wards have already recorded your magical signatures, so finding you will be a breeze." Dan glanced towards the portrait door and frowned. "What have you done to Sir Graham? The man should have woken up long ago."

"We charmed him! Stopped the portrait's magic." The first spoke quickly. "That's right, nothing bad for Graham. He'll be up in the morning and won't even remember anything!" The second one continued.

"So, you just put him into a deep sleep…?" Dan asked and the twins nodded. "Why not charm yourself so that the portraits ignore your presence? Then you don't even have to hide from them and no one will notice that the portraits have suddenly begun to fall asleep."

The twins looked at each other with wide eyes. "Brilliant!" "Fabulous!" "Marvelous!" "Bravo, sir Mr. Monster Man!" "You've just solved one of our problems!"

Each of the twins extended their hand forward in greeting. "Fred and George Weasley, the best Pranksters at Hogwarts! At your service!" They said together, but Dan just gave them a glare.

"You know my hands are a little busy, right?"

The twins looked down at their robes where Dan grabbed them and looked up at the monster's face again. "We don't see a problem!"

Dan could only groan in annoyance.

"Something like that." Dan said and Dumbledore nodded.

"Well, that's good, everyone needs loyal friends." Dumbledore got up from his seat and walked to the door, his eyes scanning the scratches on the walls. "I'll only ask for one favor." He turned and looked into Dan's goggles. "Don't abuse your ability to teleport in Hogwarts. Minerva is still quite upset about that wall between the locker rooms."

Dan looked at Dumbledore's retreating back in confusion, not fully understanding why he was asking him to do this. But suddenly he suddenly realized just who knew about his existence. And they saw him teleport.