Some time earlier…
In Dumbledore’s dream.
Albus stood in the middle of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, his gaze fixed on the enchanted ceiling above, where a myriad of stars twinkled against the night sky.
“Brother?”
A soft voice called from behind him, and Albus turned to see his younger sister, Ariana, standing there.
She looked frightened, as though she already knew what was coming.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Ariana asked hesitantly. “Can’t you stay? I’m about to patrol the Forbidden Forest, and without you, I’ll be so scared…”
Albus smiled, though he didn’t answer her directly.
Instead, he said, “Ariana, remember to eat your meals on time. Pay attention in class. If anything troubles you, talk to Aberforth—he’s a far better brother than I’ve ever been.
“Oh, and that handsome boy you mentioned? I had a little word with him…”
Albus was smiling, but it looked more like he was fighting back tears.
“No!”
Ariana threw herself into his arms, clinging to him. “You can’t leave! You promised to protect me!”
Gently, Albus stroked her hair.
“Ariana, I would protect you forever if I could,” he said. “But I’m no longer just your brother. There are countless other young witches and wizards out there who need my protection too.”
She clung to his robes, refusing to let go.
“Ariana…”
His voice trembled as he said her name again. He took a deep breath, struggling to steady himself before he spoke his next words.
“I’ve already lost you!”
Summoning every ounce of strength, he pried her arms from around him and pushed her away.
“I am Albus Dumbledore! I am your brother, but I am also the headmaster of Hogwarts!”
His voice cracked as he shouted, “I lost my Ariana once, and I will not let anyone else lose theirs!”
With that, he closed his eyes tightly.
The Elder Wand appeared in his hand as if summoned by sheer will.
Placing the tip of the wand against his forehead, he pressed down hard.
“Brother!”
Ariana’s voice echoed in his ears, growing fainter and fainter.
When the sound finally disappeared, Albus opened his eyes.
He was back in reality.
—
In Grindelwald’s dream.
He had just finished delivering the speech of his dreams. But instead of elation, a hollow feeling settled in his chest.
“Gellert?”
Dumbledore appeared beside him. “Our vision is finally within reach. Why don’t you look happy?”
“Because I’ve just realized something,” Grindelwald replied. “The dream fulfilled here is mine alone.”
Dumbledore blinked. “But your dream is my dream too.”
“Yes… yes…”
Grindelwald muttered, almost to himself, “And that’s exactly why I’m having this dream.”
Turning to face Dumbledore, he gave a small, bitter smile.
“Thank you, Albus,” he said.
He began to back away, step by step. “Thank you for helping me live my dream here. Now it’s my turn to return to reality and help fulfill yours.”
He turned and saw a mirror on the table.
In its reflection was an aged man with white hair and a frail frame.
Grindelwald touched his face, letting out a rueful laugh.
“So… I’ve grown this old.”
Some things could not wait any longer.
“Gellert!”
Dumbledore reached out as if to stop him.
But once Grindelwald made up his mind, nothing could sway him.
The Elder Wand materialized in his hand.
“This wand doesn’t belong to me,” Grindelwald murmured.
The wand transformed, becoming sleek and new.
“Albus,” he said with a smile, “see you soon.”
With those words, the dream shattered.
Grindelwald opened his eyes, now back in reality.
At the same time, the real Dumbledore was stepping out of the hospital wing.
“Albus!”
Grindelwald leapt up, shouting after him. “I just dreamed of you! Did you dream of me?”
“Professor Gale,” Dumbledore replied evenly, turning back. “It’s good that you’re awake. Hogwarts is in danger, and we must act quickly to save the students.”
With that, he left the room.
Grindelwald froze in place.
The dreams of youth are long gone.
A wry smile tugged at his lips.
Knew it would be like this. Damn it.
“Wait for me, Headmaster!”
He called after Dumbledore, rushing to catch up.
—
Back in the Room of Requirement.
Two elderly wizards appeared out of thin air.
Dumbledore looked up at the silver phoenix fighting the blood-red eagle overhead.
“Your Patronus is still a phoenix?” he asked.
“It’s never changed,” Grindelwald grumbled.
“That’s good,” Dumbledore replied calmly, before turning his attention to the battlefield.
The moment the two men arrived, Rowena Ravenclaw sighed in frustration.
“None of us can kill the other,” she said flatly.
“You’re being modest,” Dumbledore replied. “You have the power to resurrect endlessly. We don’t. If possible, I’d prefer to resolve this peacefully.”
“Peacefully, huh… what a headache!”
Ravenclaw muttered.
She knew she could keep fighting. With Gryffindor sealed away, Hogwarts had only these two old men left to oppose her.
Even if she couldn’t defeat them outright, she could outlast them.
But what would be the point?
Deep down, she knew she had already lost.
When she had pulled Dumbledore into the dreamscape, she’d said, “Let’s see how clever you really are.”
And now he had proven himself by breaking free through sheer will.
By the very rules she had set, Dumbledore had earned his place in her vision of a new world.
She sighed again, resigned.
“You win,” Ravenclaw said at last. “I’ll leave.”
She waved her hand, and the blood eagle vanished. Defeated, Ravenclaw prepared to depart this place of sorrow.
Maybe I’ll start anew somewhere else and build a fresh school from scratch.
But as she turned, Dumbledore called out to her.
“Where will you go?”
“What business is it of yours?” she snapped.
“I don’t mean it that way,” Dumbledore replied calmly. “I simply mean that Hogwarts is your home. Why not stay?”
Stay?
Ravenclaw hadn’t expected such magnanimity from the current headmaster.
“You’d really let me stay?” she asked with a wry smile. “After I nearly destroyed the school?”
“You are one of Hogwarts’ founders,” Dumbledore said. “And having one more friend is better than having one more enemy.”
Of course, Dumbledore had other, less noble reasons.
Ravenclaw was immortal and possessed powerful ancient magic. Letting her roam free would be a nightmare.
Until he gathered the Deathly Hallows, keeping her close was the safest option.
Ravenclaw, for her part, found herself tempted.
Starting a new school was a monumental task. Parents might even fear her resurrection and refuse to send their children.
Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to stay at Hogwarts and nurture the next generation.
Still…
“I have one condition,” Ravenclaw said, pointing at Bruce.
“That little brat—he’s mine!”
Bruce’s grin froze.
What does this have to do with me?
His smile seemed to transfer to Kathoom, who cackled gleefully.
“Congrats, Bruce! The old lady has a crush on you!”
“Stop being disgusting, Kathoom,” Bruce deadpanned. “I’m just a kid, and my tragic backstory doesn’t make this funny.”
“But don’t worry. I’ve already forgiven you for apologizing to me on your behalf. Let’s not repeat this.”
“You little—” Kathoom squawked, ready to launch into a tirade.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore turned to Ravenclaw.
“What do you mean by ‘he’s yours’? And why him?”
“Why him?” Ravenclaw repeated, thinking back to Bruce’s earlier comments. She wanted to rip his mouth apart.
“By ‘mine,’ I mean he’ll be my apprentice. I’ll teach him real magic, but his fate will be mine to decide.”
“Looks like you’re in for three years of training and two years of servitude, Bruce,” Kathoom quipped.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
When Ravenclaw made her demand, Dumbledore hesitated.
Ultimately, it was Bruce’s choice to make.
Dumbledore looked at the boy, whose brow furrowed in thought before he asked Ravenclaw:
“If I become your apprentice, what will I learn?”
“Anything you want,” Ravenclaw replied with a mischievous smile. “How about alchemy? I’ll teach you everything I know—if you call me Master.”
For the first time, Bruce noticed how much she seemed to want this.
She definitely has ulterior motives.
“Don’t do it, Bruce!” Kathoom hissed. “She’s bad news. If she mistreats you, I can’t help.”
Kathoom could already picture Bruce returning to their dorm with bruises.
“Bruce,” Dumbledore asked, “what’s your decision?”
Bruce hesitated, then began, “Professor, I don’t—”
Before he could finish, Ravenclaw interrupted.
“Think carefully,” she said. “Alchemy is powerful. You could even create life itself.”
“Create life?” Kathoom muttered. “What, like alchemical minions calling him ‘big brother’?”
—
T/N: I just remembered that I have to make Bruce and Kathoom conversations different from otheressssssdafasfasfas
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