Chaos and Order - A Multiverse Fanfic
Chapter 731: Black Phoenix

Chapter 731: Black Phoenix

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It was an affluent manor.

Dozens of people were rushing here and there, doing their tasks.

Their clothes were thin, torn, and old... very old, as if it had been ages since they had put on any new clothing on their bodies.

Much like their dressing, their bodies also looked torn. Tired. Waned.

Along with the state of their clothes and bodies, they also shared one more thing between them.

Their nature.

Muggles!

They were all muggles.

They were all servants... in the house of a wizard.

Suddenly, steps rang on the stairway, and their souls shuddered.

An old man, dressed richly in a white suit and pants, and smoking a cigar, stopped at the foothold and looked at them, smoke billowing in circles around him.

He had a cane in his hand, shining blacker than anything.

"Good... Good morning," the head servant stuttered, falling to his knees at the foot of the stairs. "Master... Master Dumbledore."

...

Albus Dumbledore took the smoke in, his blue eyes shining with disgust.

Slowly, and deliberately, he stepped down and came to rest in front of the kneeled muggle.

With a resounding bang, he sent the muggle flying, the cane in his right hand letting out red sparks.

"King..." he said, his voice echoing in all ears. "King Dumbledore."

A few more muggles rushed toward the fallen servant.

He was already dead.

A new servant took over the position right there and then.

"All hail His Royal Highness!" the muggle shouted over his lungs. "KING DUMBLEDORE!!!"

Dumbledore ignored the filthy creatures and walked out of the manor... No. Palace.

He walked out of the palace and looked at the vast open fields.

He looked at the world. His world.

"What a wonderful day!"

"... Your existence repulses me..."

King Dumbledore spun around so fast that his ears rang.

How?! Who could approach him without his knowledge?! Why didn’t his pet House-elves warn him?! Where were his playthings, the dozens of witches?!!

Standing between the King and the Palace was a black-robed figure, his face hidden under the hood.

In his hands, he carried a wand, space pulsating around it as if it were on fire.

That wand...

Impossible!!!

A chill ran down King’s spine.

One moment. It took him only one moment to decide to run away first.

Everything else could be done later, once he gathered an army to take care of this enemy.

Yes! He must disapparate!

"... Not so fast," the robed enemy said.

Sizzleeeeeeeee!

The world burned.

In the sky, the clouds ceased to exist.

A gigantic black phoenix spread its wings, oozing a red, yellow, but corruptively black, halo.

In a fraction of a second, barely giving any time to even process the thought of Disapparation, the halo covered the robed figure and the King, separating them from reality.

King Dumbledore’s blue eyes burned, realizing the gravity of the situation.

With a jerk of his hand, he pulled the Elder Wand out of the cane.

"Avada Kedavra!!"

The dark-robed figure also pointed the wand.

The two killing curses met like red and black bolts of lightning.

King Dumbledore saw the blackness of the magic overwhelming his own. "Ahhhhhhhh!"

For a brief moment, the Elder Wand erupted with magic, a red halo burning through the corruption.

The robed figure suddenly lifted its head.

Against this growing redness, his black eyes burned with despair.

"... Wizards like you..." Albus Dumbledore said, twisting the Elder Wand in his hand, "... shouldn’t exist... in any timeline."

Booooooooooooooooooom!!!

...

Hogwarts,

Headmaster’s Office

A black vortex puffed, like looking at a jet of water from the top.

Albus Dumbledore, donning black robes, walked out from the vortex.

Limping, he walked toward the table and took a seat, slumping down... into the chair with a sigh.

Slowly, he pulled the hood off his face.

Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had changed.

He looked thinner.

His skin was stuck to his face like a mummy.

Not only his face, but his entire body had undergone the same change.

Then there were his eyes — Cold. Black. Boiling with dark, burning magic.

It did that to wizards, he knew.

Killing.

But what choice did he have?

Was there any other option available to him now?

The Order had refused to help him. Merlin, his master, had never come to see him.

Meanwhile, the signs of the coming doom were growing stronger and stronger. Any day now, the Yellow Warlock, Lord Voldemort, and Ekrizdis could decide to attack the world.

His world.

Who would stop them, then? The Order?!

No, Dumbledore shook his head, grinding his teeth. I can only count on... myself. My friends. My students. My world. They need me more than ever.

Just when everything seemed to have gone out of his hands, he had received help.

She had contacted him through Fawkes.

She had given him a way to grow strong, without compromising his ideals.

She had bestowed upon him this power to teleport to what She called Keys, to hunt the Dumbledores who had gone to the dark side.

The power he was obtaining this way was barely enough. Minute, even. Still, he was moving ahead, step by step.

More often than not, that was enough.

Now, Albus could see the signs of lost hope.

Hope... that had all but abandoned him after seeing his Grindelwald becoming the enemy’s puppet.

Crrkkkk!

The office’s massive doors creaked as they opened.

Through the doors, an old wizard, wearing white-blue robes, walked in.

The moment he took a few, slow steps forward and lifted his head, he saw the wizard sitting on the Headmaster’s chair.

Both Dumbledores stared at each other silently.

Then, with a sizzling bang, the newly arrived Dumbledore burst into red, yellow, and black flames.

A majestic, black-feathered Phoenix flew across the office and came to rest next to Dumbledore.

"Fawkes..." Dumbledore caressed its beak, noticing the black feathers on its body, the color darkening here and there.

Fawkes was his Spirit Companion.

Any change in Dumbledore’s spirit would reflect on Fawkes as well.

The Headmaster looked at the darkened feathers, trying to smile, but failed.

The Phoenix let out a cry, nudging Dumbledore’s fingers. That did bring out a twitch at the corner of Albus’ mouth.

He put the Elder Wand’s tip at the head of the Phoenix and extracted the memories to go through them.

It had become a routine these days.

It wasn’t a matter of just teleporting to a timeline and killing.

He needed to make ample preparations before even attempting the task, timely using the Bounded Field before the enemy could disapparate.

However, She had named it a Reality Marble.

Dumbledore looked at the Pensieve resting far away, and it came to float next to him.

One by one, Dumbledore began going through the memories to keep himself up to date with the events and actions getting played out by Fawkes in his form.

When he was done, Dumbledore let his tired back fall into the chair.

"Hmm..." he ruminated, black magic pulsating in his eyes, "A Triwizard Tournament? They are getting desperate. Still..."

Professor Dumbledore closed his eyes, finally managing to smile.

He remembered rows of words said to him by a young, brilliant witch with poison-like green eyes.

"... Desperate times demand desperate measures, won’t you agree, Darcie?"

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