A war between wizards, or peace with goblins
Dumbledore understood exactly what Grindelwald was asking him.
A war between wizards meant taking direct action against the goblins, ensuring that wizardkind remained dominant.
A peace with goblins, on the other hand, meant acknowledging the current power balance—accepting the fragile coexistence between the goblins and the Magical Congress of America.
But beneath the surface, Grindelwald's words carried another meaning.
Dumbledore had to make a choice.
Would he fight to the death with Gellert Grindelwald?
Or would they stand together once more?
Dumbledore, still feeling the exhilaration of their battle, already knew his answer.
He looked into Grindelwald's silver-white pupils and, with a calm and unhurried voice, said, "I choose—"
Washington, D.C.
The vast Wizarding Square in the heart of the Magical Congress was packed with people. A long procession of squib wizards stood in neat lines, holding banners high above their heads.
Golden letters shimmered across the fabric, spelling out:
Welcome to the British Ministry of Magic and the support of Hogwarts!
Above them, enchantments filled the sky with floating flowers, their petals carrying a subtle, enchanting fragrance that drifted through the air.
The entire square buzzed with excitement.
Wizards of all backgrounds talked in eager whispers, barely able to contain their anticipation.
They knew that Albus Dumbledore—the hero who had once defeated Grindelwald, the greatest white wizard of the age—was arriving in America.
He had come as an ally, as a force of hope against the darkness of Grindelwald and his Saints.
How could they not be excited?
With Dumbledore's arrival, the battle to reclaim the Congress headquarters seemed within reach.
Peace, the peace they had all dreamed of, was finally at hand.
At the forefront of the welcoming delegation stood Chenos, Deputy Speaker of the Magic Congress, and Nass, Elder of the Goblins.
They waited at the very front of the crowd, eager to greet the legendary wizard as soon as he arrived.
Chenos turned slightly toward Nass, lowering his voice. "Nass, is everything settled on your end?"
His tone carried genuine concern.
He couldn't afford not to be concerned.
If the goblins abandoned their alliance with the Magical Congress, it would be disastrous for him and his position.
If they still upheld the alliance but under new leadership, that too could be a problem.
Would the new goblin representative cooperate with him? Would they have to go through a long, frustrating adjustment period?
Worse still—what if the new leader was actively against him?
No, keeping Nass in power was the best scenario.
Chenos trusted Nass.
They had a mutual understanding.
They shared common interests—whether it was dealing with Grindelwald's machinations, strengthening the alliance between wizards and goblins, or certain… other arrangements.
Not that there was any unspoken deal between the two.
No, no. Everything was above-board.
Absolutely no secret agreements regarding the influence of goblins in the Magical Congress.
Absolutely no backdoor negotiations regarding economic advantages for certain parties.
Absolutely no discussions about…
Well.
"Don't worry," Nass replied with a small, knowing smile. "Everything has been handled. For now, we can relax."
He then glanced at Chenos, his voice dropping slightly. "But tell me, Chenos—are you certain Dumbledore can stop Grindelwald for us? What if he only stays for a short time, fights a few battles, and then leaves us to deal with the aftermath?"
Chenos chuckled softly, his expression unreadable. "Don't worry. Everything is in place."
Nass raised an eyebrow. He knew better than to ask for specifics.
Chenos always had plans within plans.
Nass simply nodded.
After all, he had seen Dumbledore and Grindelwald fighting each other with everything they had.
They had battled so fiercely that even if they weren't mortal enemies, there was no chance they would suddenly unite against the Magical Congress.
Nass was sure of that.
Before he could continue that train of thought, a roar of excitement surged through the crowd.
"Welcome! Welcome! Warm welcome!"
A ripple of movement passed through the square as thousands of wizards turned their attention skyward.
High above, a procession of black carriages descended from the sky, drawn by Thestrals.
The unmistakable mark of Hogwarts.
It was how Hogwarts had always transported its students and visitors—by Thestral-drawn carriages, soaring elegantly through the air.
The Thestrals beat their powerful wings, gliding lower until they landed softly in the square.
Yet, strangely, not a single speck of dust rose from the ground.
The carriages had been magically cleaned beforehand, ensuring they arrived in pristine condition.
The squib wizards waved their flags even harder, some of them nearly in tears.
For them, life was already difficult.
And in times of war, it wasn't just about hardship—it was about survival.
They longed for peace.
Any kind of peace.
It didn't matter who brought it, as long as they could live.
For many of them, Dumbledore represented exactly that—a chance at stability, a chance at something better.
As the carriages came to a full stop, the doors swung open.
Tread. Tread. Tread.
A procession of figures stepped out.
At the front was an elderly man in a dark red wizard robe, his pointed hat adorned with the insignia of the Wizengamot.
He carried himself with an air of effortless grace, his kind smile familiar to all.
His long, white beard swayed slightly in the wind.
Albus Dumbledore.
Headmaster of Hogwarts.
President of the International Confederation of Wizards.
Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.
The greatest white wizard of the age.
Chenos stepped forward, a bright smile on his face.
He reached out, grasping Dumbledore's hands warmly between his own.
"Welcome, Chief Dumbledore, to the Magical Congress," Chenos said enthusiastically. "I am Chenos Plimpton, Deputy Speaker of the Magical Congress."
His voice rang out clearly, ensuring that all gathered heard his words.
"Chief, your arrival brings light to the darkness that has fallen upon the American wizarding world."
Dumbledore looked down at their joined hands.
Felt the warmth of Chenos's grip.
Saw the eager smile, the grandeur of the welcome, the carefully crafted ceremony.
And inwardly, he sighed.
Yes, this was Fudge's work.
Not Cornelius Fudge, of course.
But a man very much like him.
Chenos was playing politics.
With practiced ease, Dumbledore returned the smile. "Your Excellency Speaker, light will indeed come, and the night will eventually fade—but it is through our combined efforts that this will happen."
Their hands parted.
Chenos nodded approvingly, then gestured toward Nass.
" Headmaster Dumbledore," Chenos continued smoothly, "this is Elder Nass of the goblins. He is our ally in the fight against the Saints."
Chenos subtly emphasized the word ally, as if to underline the goblins' importance in this war.
A reminder to Dumbledore that goblins could not be ignored.
Dumbledore met Nass's gaze and gave a respectful nod.
He said nothing more.
Chenos gestured toward the waiting path. The squib wizards parted, forming a clear passageway forward.
" Headmaster Dumbledore, please," Chenos said, his tone warm and inviting. "Lunch has been prepared in your honor. The Magical Congress is ready to welcome its friends."
Dumbledore's eyes swept across the crowd.
He saw the squib wizards watching him with hope.
The young wizards who had nothing left but faith in him.
He felt the weight of their silent prayers.
For just a moment, a shadow passed over his expression.
Chenos, watching closely, caught it.
And he smiled.
...
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