If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
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21 June 1995, Hogwarts
Albus Dumbledore had to admit – in the privacy of his mind, of course – that Harry Potter was impressively persistent. The boy had to have known that he wouldn't win, not when he didn't have the element of surprise on his side. Even without the Elder Wand, the former headmaster was the superior mage in every single way.
The plan was relatively simple. He would obscure the location of the ritual as much as possible and essentially create a plant, a series of fake protections, hoping that they'd slow down the boy, while the ritual was actually being performed elsewhere. It had worked very well. Sure, the boy had discovered the stone that he was powering with the ritual, but not quickly enough to be able to destroy it.
By now, the stone was impervious to damage unless someone absorbed its magic first—an impossible feat in the time they had. By then, Albus would have already broken the prophecy and joined Gellert in Nurmengard for the final ritual.
To be honest, he'd been somewhat wary about the ritual. Some of what the boy said during their last confrontation stayed with him, specifically, the part where Gellert was surely planning on messing with the ritual. The Champion of Light had taken a look at it, and while he wasn't as good when it came to crafting rituals as Gellert, he was more than capable of figuring out their mechanics.
Surprisingly, Albus had literally found nothing unusual. He had triple-checked the calculations, and the ritual would do what Gellert claimed. It would transport humanity to another dimension and give them the ability to return after things have settled. To be honest, he'd been somewhat worried that Gellert would only decide to save the mages and leave billions of muggles to die for no other reason than spite and paranoia.
He knew it deep down, bringing about Ragnarök on their terms, without humanity being in the way, was, by far, the best plan they could have come up with. The End of Days was inevitable anyway, and saving as many people as possible was the best thing they could do. After all, even if it had taken place in a century or two, they had no guarantee that there would be someone strong enough to make the hard choices, much like he and Gellert had many times before.
In a way, the opposition was expected. People always like to rebel against change and progress. It was always the way of things. Today, the war between the Light and Dark would end, and the victor would lead humanity into a new golden age, which could terrify people.
Resistance was expected, but not someone like Harry Potter or Alexander Marinakis. They had proven themselves to be dangerous, extremely dangerous even. And so, as they attacked him, Albus decided to make quick work of them. After all, he only needed to wait until the ritual was over and leave. Attacking the buried stone would make it leak energy slightly, which would delay things. Given his calculations, he only had a few minutes until the ritual would be over.
And so, he raised his sword and finally channelled his Light into it. Excalibur glowed white, with what seemed to be white flames slowly dancing around him, being more an expression of the Light than a fire. This was the first time he would wield Excalibur in combat, and it would likely be the last. So, why not make the most of it?
He activated the magic, and a beam of white energy whose power even surprised Albus, appeared towards the Potter boy, blinding the entire forest, before continuing past, creating a gigantic tunnel that ruptured through the hill behind the boy.
A part of Albus marvelled at the sheer firepower the weapon granted him, only to barely dodge another ice attack from the boy, showing that he was still alive, somehow. Albus was proven to be correct when the dust settled and the boy still stood, slightly singed, but unharmed.
How?
The attack should have vaporised him. He shouldn't have been able to direct it with his space magic. The boy shouldn't have had the reflexes to cast anything, let alone manipulate space fast enough to escape. Why couldn't things just work for once?
Of course, that was when he had to deal with the attacks from Marinakis and Potter. The Greek wizard conjured some sort of weird black lightning that he sent at Albus, who dodged it easily enough, only to have to shield against a beam of darkness from the Potter boy. Of course, that was when the original bolt of lightning veered towards him, space being manipulated to try to take him off guard.
Instead of shielding or dodging again, Albus used the sword and infused the bolt of Lightning with his Light and threw it back at his opponents. He then leapt towards the boy, his sword allowing him to channel magic into his body and make him move far faster than anyone his age had any right to.
The Potter boy dodged his first strike but tried to manipulate space to counter the second one. However, Excalibur cut through the warped space as if it didn't exist and slashed the boy's chest. The young wizard gasped in pain at what happened, but the wound looked superficial at best. Somehow, the boy managed to throw himself back enough that only the tip of Albus' sword touched him.
Still, his robes were cut cleanly in two, where Dumbledore had hit him, with blood slowly seeping through. However, the boy seemed to be grinning for some reason, "Distractions are really useful, aren't they, Dumbledore?"
The former headmaster barely had the time to process what happened as he heard a gigantic crack of Lightning falling behind him, specifically towards the rune-engraved ice blade that he had dodged when the fight started, which sat right above the stone he was meant to protect.
Damn it, that was magic that was spent protecting the stone instead of charging the ritual. It wasn't that much, in the grand scheme of things, but it would slow down the ritual if the stone was attacked repeatedly.
And so, Albus lashed out, releasing gigantic arcs of light around him, stopping Marinakis from continuing the onslaught, before releasing a beam of Light into the air, cutting through the storm that had been gathering. He then parried an attack from the Potter boy, whose black ice blade almost hit his neck, which shattered against Excalibur as if it were made of glass.
The former headmaster relished seeing the shock on the boy's face and tried to capitalise by conjuring a spear of Light aimed at the boy's heart. Unfortunately, it missed, as the boy burst into dozens of ravens, which surrounded him, slowly picking up speed and creating a small tornado. Suddenly, one of the ravens burst out of the shadows, trying to attack him.
Albus felt the corrosive curse that came with that particular spell and released a pulse of Light that dispelled the entire attack, sending the boy flying back into his human form. Albus, though, didn't have time to capitalise as Marinakis appeared in front of him with a sword of Lightning in his hand, throwing it at him. Albus parried it with Excalibur instinctively, only for the Lightning to explode, shocking him, as the blades met.
He suppressed the urge to groan in pain and instead tried to bisect the Greek mage, only for the blade to pass through the man, having turned himself into Lightning. Thankfully, the Champion of Light was able to shield himself from the attack and raised his hand, conjuring hundreds of spikes of Light, throwing them in a circle, and hitting everything around him.
He grinned as he realised that one of the blades must have hit his opponent, and he followed by conjuring chains of Light to bind the man and kill him once and for all.
However, instead of being taken off guard, the wounded Greek mage was hit with a gigantic bolt of Lightning that almost turned the entire clearing into a crater. A fraction of a second later, where the Greek mage had stood before, instead was a towering figure stood there. Calling it large was an understatement; it was almost as tall as the Astronomy tower and made entirely of Lightning, wielding a trident which seemed to shift colours between white, green, and blue.
A part of Albus froze at that, not at the display of power, but at the sheer nostalgia he felt for some reason. Without even meaning to, he muttered, "Poseidon."
The entire battlefield was silent apart from the crack of thunder in the distance. The sky had turned cloudy, almost covering the entire horizon. He had to admit that this was an impressive piece of magic, to say the least. The power requirements alone, to essentially rewrite the weather on a whim, were impressive, to say the least.
Nevertheless, the man opposed him, the saviour of humanity. Given the way he was moving towards Albus, and so he had no other choice but to raise his weapon and release Excalibur's full might. A beam of pure Light appeared out of thin air and struck the chest of the towering figure. There seemed to be a resistance for a fraction of a second, but it sent through all the same, seemingly splitting the sky itself into two.
The magic destabilised and slowly faded into nothing. However, Albus did not have time to celebrate, as he felt an attack from his left. The Potter boy had sent a beam of darkness at him, which Albus dispelled entirely using his sword. He foolishly leapt towards the headmaster, who swung his sword, preparing to kill him, only for the weapon to pass through the boy as if he didn't exist.
The former headmaster barely had enough time to widen his eyes as he felt the boy's ice sword impale him through the heart.
For a moment, there was silence. As if even the world itself had forgotten to breathe.
Dumbledore looked down. The blade of black ice was buried deep in his chest, the magic around it humming with soul-crushing force. He could feel it trying it injure his very soul, hoping to weaken him, but Excalibur's mind resisted it, stopping it from spreading, healing both his body and his soul.
Yet, Albus's first instinct was to move—to cut the boy down, to break him before the pain set in.
But his arm wouldn't move. He looked down and saw golden runes binding it like chains, which were impaled to the ground. Before he even finished processing what happened, his other hand felt stretched, somehow restrained using Lightning of all things, revealing that a slightly injured Marinakis was responsible for it.
Then, thunder started to rumble, the clouds having discreetly moved once more, only this time, Potter's magic seemed to sift through it. A gigantic raven of Black Lightning fell from the clouds before being concentrated into a gigantic blast, practically plasma made of the same energy that the Potter boy liked to use to injure souls.
As quickly as he could, Albus released a powerful pulse of Light that broke the Runes and the binding lightning, before releasing a beam of white Light from his sword, battling the gigantic attack that his opponents had conjured.
Suddenly, the two beams met, and the outcome was a gigantic pulse of power that literally vaporised half of the forest, the clearing included. Dumbledore, slightly wounded, slowly struggled to his feet, watching his opponents do the same, having survived the attack somehow. Albus felt the sword in his hands slowly empowering the Light to heal his body completely. The burns, the cuts, the bruises, all faded away as if they didn't exist.
The boy looked slightly injured, limping slightly, and the Greek mage didn't look any better. They raised their wands towards him, and Albus suppressed a grin. After all, the ritual had amassed the energy he needed. Instead of attacking them once more, he turned towards the glowing rock behind him. It was no longer submerged in the ground, given his opponents' final attack, showing the world its splendour.
Its faint glow and the obvious Fae runes carved into it revealed its purpose. This was the stone from which Arthur Pendragon pulled Excalibur. Merlin had stolen it from the Fae with the sword and used it as an incubator to give it its modified properties.
In a twisted form of irony, Dumbledore was using it to destroy the sword it created. If it had been a normal prophecy, Albus would have only needed a normal ritual knife to channel enough energy to break it. However, this was Excalibur, the sword of promised victory. This was a legendary Fae weapon that Merlin himself stole and enchanted. It was a fragment of Fate and the Light given form, and it was not that easily destroyed.
It had taken a while to figure it out. He needed a sample of the original enchantments to trick the sword into not releasing the countless countermeasures Merlin put in place, and then he needed a lot of energy to power a countercharm, followed by a gigantic strike to destroy the sword.
It was fairly tricky, to say the least, but Albus had done it.
And so, instead of attacking, he smiled at his opponents and spoke up, "I told you that you cannot stop me."
And just like that, with a heavy heart, Albus committed the greatest act of sacrilege in his life and stabbed Excalibur into the boulder.
For a moment, the world stood still.
The Light seemed to hesitate as if realising, too late, what was about to happen. The runes on the stone flared brighter, and so did the sword, its handle even becoming scalding hot. He could feel the outrage of the Light, the sheer betrayal it felt.
The Light screamed, and the world itself turned white.
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AN: I'm not sure about this fighting scene. I don't know why it feels a bit underwhelming for a proper fight between Harry and Dumbledore. I did rewrite it a couple of times, and this is what I ended up with. I thought about making the fight a bit more technical, but I wanted Dumbledore to use Excalibur a bit, and it's hard to make a technical fight with one of the strongest characters having a superweapon. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
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If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.