HP: Magic of the End

"Gunpowder, redstone, spider eyes, cobwebs, bones, rotten flesh, sugar and ender eyes." Danil looked at the loot that the Iron Golems had collected for him. They could be surprisingly neat if the will of their creator required it. "Where did you get the sugar? Now that I think about it, how did you even gather the ingredients? You got no fingers."

The silence of the three became his answer. The Golems couldn't speak, the design of their bodies didn't account for this. Rubbing the place where ordinary people had the bridge of his nose, Danil turned again to the table with the loot in his dugout in the Iron Haven. He and Remus decided to stay here for a couple more days to help rebuild the village.

Danil volunteered to help with the construction of normal houses, with his magic and abilities it was quite easy to do. Just five hours with a lunch break to complete one building. The golems will remain in the village as additional protection; they certainly will not be superfluous, especially since Danil simply could not take them with him.

"Still, this day isn't so bad." He turned to the mirror, examining the changes in his own business.

Although nothing much had changed, if you looked closely, you could notice the differences. His chest seemed to expand, his shoulders became wider, and his arms and legs gained even more muscle. It felt like he was becoming a pumped-up version of the enderman. And if his guess was correct, then his personal edge eye in his chest became a little larger.

"How long are you going to admire yourself? Time is running out; Silver and his group have already finished collecting wood for houses." Said Kendrick, standing behind a wall of Golem backs.

"I'll be right there, Count, it's not every day you get free muscles."

Kendrick, who had finally received his name, snorted despicably and limped away. During the battle, one of the skeletons planted an arrow directly into his knee, since then the wound has not yet had time to recover and Kendrick has taken up the habit of walking with a cane. It seemed that this was precisely what was missing from his image of the important owner of the Count's estate, who often went for walks in the forest.

Leading the Golems, Danil left the earthen house and found himself in a strange combination of a holiday and a large-scale construction operation. They decided to build houses without nails, using magic to replace everything missing with spells. Danil wanted to build a hut in the harsh Russian style, perhaps even with chicken legs. The problem of lack of space inside houses was just as easily solved by the spell of invisible expansion, in which werewolves have long become real professionals.

"–three houses on the outskirts for patrolmen, roads for Golems and people, a possible common building, something like a club house." Silver stood with his torso wrapped in bandages and his arm in a cast. The pack finished him off well, but the man was already on the mend, magic helped incredibly with this. "Oh, the Brightest, you're already here, great. Then we can start construction. The wall will be our first priority, but we'll build a river through it, there's a suitable current just nearby."

"Why do you need a river? Make a water tower and make it endless, it will be easier." Danil suggested, but Silver's look made him understand that this was a bad idea.

"And lose the opportunity to have a personal river? Well, no. Now come here, we have drawn a diagram of the location of the buildings, we plan to do–"

Sighing heavily, Danil leaned on his staff. The day may have promised to be good, but that didn't mean it would be easy. Life in general was rarely simple, especially the life of people locked in the bodies of monsters.

"And here we will place a common dining room and a fire for sacrifices– are you even listening to me?"

"No."

He didn't even try to dodge the slap on the head that Silver gave him.

---

Wizengamot meetings have always been distinguished by their dullness and meaninglessness. Two hundred politicians harped on the same topics over and over again, trying to pull the blanket over themselves. It has always been this way.

It was impossible to count how many of these meetings Bellatrix Black attended, although the head of the Black family would prefer that number be reduced to zero. But fate decreed otherwise and the best duelist of the last fifty years slowly lost her brain cells, listening to yet another argument between idiots about raising taxes on unicorn dung.

"Andromeda, honey, can you wake Bella up when something interesting starts?" Bella begged, but her sister immediately elbowed her in the side.

"If I have to listen to this nonsense, then so do you. Don't you dare leave me here alone!"

Andromeda and Bellatrix were as similar to each other as two peas in a pod, except that they differed in the color of their eyes and hair. Bella chose her sister for the position of adviser as soon as the opportunity arose. She didn't want to be left alone with the old bastards.

"Okay, okay! Merlin's beard, can't we make a joke anymore?" Bella pouted like a little child. "Bella doesn't want to sit here, she wants to go home and throw Potter in the wall again."

Andromeda shuddered. Harry's punishment for his actions at the end of the school year was harsh, but ridiculously simple. He had to survive a one-on-one duel against Bella for fifteen minutes. The problem was that the woman didn't even think about holding back and all of Potter's attempts to date had ended with him on his back and a couple of broken bones.

"Don't you think he should take a break? The boy is already trying his best."

"There will be no respite. If my heir thinks he can lose without consequences, then he is sorely mistaken."

That was another problem, Bella didn't see anything wrong with her adopted son actually attacking another student. She was much more worried about the fact that he lost. Bella didn't encourage losing.

"And now I ask everyone to open the booklets given to you on page twenty-six. A further question concerns Hogwarts, which recently declared itself independent from the Ministry." Bella perked up at Weasley's voice and feverishly opened the booklet that she had not touched before.

"Let me note that as Headmaster of Hogwarts, I am categorically against the initiative that the Ministers have put forward."

Dumbledore, sitting on the observer's stand, looked at the Minister of Magic with disappointment. Albus himself abandoned all his other positions of power, focusing on the well-being of the school. And under his supervision, the school was already beginning to bloom. Repairing old parts of the Castle, purchasing new equipment – Dumbledore spent a lot of money and time to make Hogwarts better.

Unfortunately, this meant that he had less leverage over Wizengamot.

'Less, but not zero.' Bella thought Dumbledore was the only observer for this session. Even reporters who usually covered events in Wizengamot were unable to get permission to visit today.

"Your attention is noted, Headmaster Dumbledore." Fudge looked like he wanted to sneeze, but he just couldn't. "By the decision of the Ministries of Magic of England, France and Bulgaria, an agreement was made to hold the Triwizard Tournament in order to improve relations between the countries."

"What the hell?" Bella muttered as she read the details in the booklet.

The Triwizard Tournament was quite famous among the Pureblood Families for all the wrong reasons. Deaths of participants, injuries to spectators and even a few deaths of judges. Of course, the Ministers and other officials promised increased security for everyone around, but Bella knew an empty promise when she saw one.

"Are they crazy? The tournament was discontinued for good reasons." Andromeda muttered as she read the booklet through the eyes of a professional lawyer.

Bella was interested in something else; her voice broke through the roar of indignant politicians.

"Who gave the Ministry the right to enter into this 'agreement' without consulting the House of Lords?" People became quiet. Lady Black spoke rarely, but when she spoke – people listened.

Fudge was embarrassed by the unexpected question, but answered. "The agreement to hold the Triwizard Tournament was created more than a thousand years ago, for its continuation only the consent of the three current ministers is required. The location of the Tournament is determined according to rotation and Hogwarts is next on the list."

The noise rose again, but this time much quieter than the first. The rotten heads of the old bastards sitting in the Lords' seats began to work. Within five minutes, they were not thinking about the danger their children might be in, but about the possible benefits that tourists from other countries could bring.

Bella sneered contemptuously, looking down at the booklet. A thousand Galleons and eternal glory for victory.

'Let them name at least one winner of the past Tournaments, idiots. And what kind of crazy person decided that bringing in some dragons would be a good idea? They'll tear the kids apart and we'll be lucky if they stop there.'

Somewhere down the hall, the pleased Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Ludowig Bagman, sneezed loudly. "What was that?"

Now Bella understood why Dumbledore looked so unhappy. The Triwizard Tournament originated in Greece, during the founding of the Olympic Games. The contract between the Goblet of Fire – the artifact used to select participants – and the Schools was irrevocable.

"An age line? It's like they want their protections to be bypassed."

The security measures proposed by the Ministry were so simple that Bella wanted to laugh. Sometimes the simplest defense was the best, but not in this case.

"Andromeda, write to Narcissa and let her return from India. I think we could use a qualified healer."

"Write her yourself."

"No. Her care last time gave me an aneurysm."

"Okay, but after this I want a day off."

"You'll get the day off when Harry lasts fifteen minutes."

"This sounds so wrong..."

"He'll survive."

"If anyone hears you, I won't survive the consequences. Do you know how tired I am after talking to the press?"

"Bella doesn't want to know anything. Bella wants power, chocolate and money. And a man." Bella added after thinking for a moment.

---

The trunks of dark oak lay on top of each other like a glove, as if processed on a high-tech machine. At first, the werewolves had little faith that Danil would succeed in something useful, but the result spoke for itself. The Club building was completed in record time.

The traditional Russian hut has caused mixed feelings among people; on the one hand, it was better than dugouts in every way, but on the other...

"Why did you attach chicken feet to the house? How does it even stay above the ground?" Silver muttered, trying to understand where Danil was able to get such huge chicken feet made of wood.

"It looks impressive. The common dining hall will have three floors, I haven't heard any objections to this."

Silver sighed heavily. Of course, no one had any objections; they would need more space in the future. When the rest of the packs hear about their victory, refugees from the destroyed villages will begin to flock here in the hope of receiving protection from the hoard of creatures. And they were going to provide that protection.

"Okay, okay! What's with the wall?"

Danil scratched the back of his head, looking somewhere deep into the forest. "My Golems are now collecting stone and cobblestone; the wall will be ready by evening. Damn, they are much more useful than I expected."

Construction was in full swing, no one was sitting idle. Danil has already begun to build a common dining room building. Silver and Earl made sure that everyone worked in their places. Remus walked off into the woods, muttering something about Vietnamese traps and stakes. Several wizards were talking about placing enchanted weapons on the wall for the future defense of the village from attacks.

Iron Haven was slowly but surely turning into a full-fledged village. The werewolves saw that their enemy was not immortal, not infinite, and realized that they had a chance. Even the children, whom Sarah led, were eager to help with the defense of their home. They have already lost one, they won't leave the second one.

---

[Hello, Luna Lovegood. I am still writing to you from Silver's Summer Camp. Although, rather from the village, the renovation of the houses around has breathed life into this place. I have a lot to say, but I don't think it's worth doing it in a letter. There are only a couple of days left before I return.

Now we have already finished with the construction of the walls and buildings, all that remains is to put up the protective Wards. It will be interesting to see their work, maybe it will help me move forward in learning my own magic.

After the raid, we have quite a lot of ingredients left for potions and crafting. As soon as I return, remind me to show you all the things I can make.

To answer your constant question: no, I can't tell you the name of my teacher. Even Silver doesn't know Bitche's real name, how would I know it?

Say hi to Mantis and Billy, I miss you all so much. Don't drink chefir anymore, it gives you headaches.

P.S: don't write me back, by the time the letter reaches you, the owls will no longer be able to find the Iron Heaven.

- With Chrome

Danil Khromov.]