A/N: Here's the final chapter. A reminder that, at the moment, I have no plans to do a sequel but that can always change in the future.
Chapter 18:
The Final Problem
Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes wearily as he sank into the chair of the headmaster for what was to be the last time; at the end of term, he would be required to retire from his post and never hold a post as a teacher of any kind again. His last great joy would be taken from him in his twilight years, and it was a pain Albus had never thought he would have to bear. But he had been played like a fiddle, and he was certain he knew the identity of the fiddler playing the tune of his demise, a demise that came because he was at his most vulnerable, a convenient scapegoat for the recent ills of society. At one time, that scapegoat would have been the likes of Cornelius Fudge and his odious Undersecretary, and rarely people such as Lucius Malfoy. But all the usual suspects had been downed in recent months, downed by the same man that Albus was certain had orchestrated the events that were seeing him ousted: Ares Peverell.
Albus looked at the papers from the past few days scattered across his desk. Headlines blared up at him: Tournament of Death, Dumbledore Deposed, Black Freed, and McGonagall Succeeds Dumbledore were the top headlines. The Tri-Wizard Tournament had been officially banned from ever being resurrected due to a unanimous vote from the International Confederation of Wizards since every single champion was now confirmed as deceased, despite the precautions put into place. Dumbledore, as the headmaster of the host school and in a vulnerable position, had been removed from his post and held responsible for the deaths in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Minerva had been promoted to interim Headmistress, but Albus wondered how long it would take before she was removed due to her own 'contributions' to the events that led to the Tournament's dark end.
Sirius Black had been freed when Ra's al Tanin, who had presumably stopped the resurrection of Voldemort, had sent Peter Pettigrew back to Hogwarts with the Portkey. The information revealed in the questioning of Pettigrew, performed on site by Rufus Scrimgeour, had revealed not only that Dumbledore had cast the Fidelius Charm for Pettigrew (Lily Potter had been a Charms Prodigy but even she had failed to cast the Charm, leaving them to turn to him) but also that Voldemort had briefly returned and killed Harry Potter before being killed, in turn, by Ra's al Tanin. A team of Aurors and Unspeakables dispatched to the graveyard had discovered the remnants of Harry's body and found Voldemort's body as well, confirming him to be dead. With the knowledge that the man who controlled the League of Shadows had killed the previously thought-dead Dark Lord, people were beginning to question the narrative that Dumbledore had contributed to, and a full inquiry had been launched into Harry Potter's years at Hogwarts.
Dumbledore sighed to himself and, with a wave of his wand, began to collect his personal belongings. He was returning to his childhood home, now the only structure still standing in what had been the village of Mould-on-the-Wold, to live out what remained of his life in exile. The British Wizarding world would not accept his counsel on any level, and those who he would once have turned to for aid or to cultivate a relationship with had either shunned him or been killed by Ra's al Tanin and the League of Shadows. Never had Dumbledore considered he would be so thoroughly destroyed in life; he had expected such actions in the aftermath of his death, when he would not be able to counter such moves and his allies may find themselves outnumbered by his detractors.
*HPDC*
"Lord Black," Rufus Scrimgeour acknowledged his next appointment as the man entered. "I am glad to see that you do not hold the sins of the past against the Ministry of Magic. Many in your position would not be so lenient, and few would blame you."
"I can either live in the past, or work for a better future," Sirius replied with a shrug. "I had a long time to think when I was in Azkaban and afterwards, on the run. I have some suggestions, if you will, for you to consider in moving forward. Especially in light of the… recent tragedy with regards to my Godson."
"Yes, you have my condolences," Rufus replied. "Lord Peverell mentioned he had met the boy once or twice and thought he had a bright future. What is it you suggest?"
"As we saw with my own case, there may be individuals who are locked up that haven't committed the crimes they are accused of," Sirius replied. "I would suggest an immediate retrial of all of Azkaban's current occupants. I would also revisit the method of punishment for crimes. We should not be treating common thieves who are desperate for food or money to buy something they need for their families the same as we do murderers and rapists like the Death Eaters. I would wish the Dementors only on those who truly deserve it. We should consider financing and building a new prison for more common crimes."
"Something you should propose in the Wizengamot as well," Rufus replied.
"Lord Peverell already intends to," Sirius replied with a shrug.
"Speaking of the Death Eaters… do you believe they should be retried?" Rufus asked.
"If only to confirm their crimes are accurate under Veritaserum," Sirius said. "And if they are… I would suggest the Veil or the Kiss. Their worst memories may in fact be the very things they get joy from. My cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, certainly found joy in whatever the Dementors brought up to her. Such individuals are beyond redemption."
"Fair points, and one we will examine both in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and in the Wizengamot," Rufus acknowledged. "Any other business?"
"Yes," Sirius said. "I would like to donate to the D.M.L.E. With Voldemort's brief resurrection having been announced, those who share his values will be emboldened, and the League of Shadows likely hasn't taken them all down. Our Aurors and Hit-Wizards will need the best equipment possible. I would like to help make sure they had what my godson and his parents didn't: a fighting chance."
*HPDC*
When Albus appeared at the edges of Mould-on-the-Wold, he was not surprised by the figure in black waiting for him, seemingly without a care in the world. Ares Peverell gave him a nod of acknowledgement as Albus allowed the satchel containing his shrunken belongings to slide off his shoulder and fall to the ground. "I thought I might find you here," Albus said. "Harry."
"How long have you known?" Ares asked, remaining seated while conjuring a seat for Dumbledore, who took it.
"I had my suspicions since our conversation in my office," Albus replied. "Though the appearance of this older persona you have created threw me off for a time. However, in the end, it was Voldemort's resurrection, brief though it was, that confirmed it. In fact, one might say the brevity of Voldemort's resurrection was the final clue."
"The prophecy," Ares said. "You know, I've never understood the fixation people who get up there past 100 have on things like prophecies. You are not the only megalomaniac I came to know who became fixated on a prophecy. Ironic, considering you once accused me of being the same."
Dumbledore tilted his head in confusion for a moment before it hit him. "Ah," he said quietly. "I hadn't considered time travel as a factor. How far?"
"Twenty-five years," Ares replied. "You should be glad I made the choice, Albus. This way, wizarding Britain has a chance. Last time, I had no choice but to wipe them and their corrupt society from the face of the Earth. Admittedly, it was a part of my ascension, but I admit I got a certain degree of pleasure in completely wiping out those who had allowed corruption to take hold of their hearts."
"I was the one you told Severus about," Albus surmised. "When you told him that you had never known love because of another. That is not true, Harry. You have known love."
"No," Ares replied coldly. "The one chance I had at knowing love was taken from me by you, Snape, and Voldemort. The Weasleys, aside from Fred and George, have shown they are fair weather allies at best. Or did you think that Molly Weasley could overcome her inbred prejudices? I can't help but notice a distinct lack of her over-mothering presence since I was sorted into Slytherin… not that I'm complaining. But if my interaction with the Weasleys was supposed to be how I knew love, then your delusions are far deeper than I ever thought."
Dumbledore sighed. "I can see there is no reasoning with you. Why did you come here, Harry? I do not think you are one to simply gloat."
"No," Ares replied. "I'm not. After you sent your little pets after Sirius, I made a promise. I'm here to fulfill it. I have taken all your positions of power and your allies; I have destroyed those who would follow you; corrupted those you would wish to cultivate new relationships with; and now the final part of the promise is at hand. I will take from you that which you desire most of all: to move on to the next great adventure."
Ares and Albus sprang into action at the same time. Ares summoned a ball of fire into his hand, harnessed from the elements, and thrust it towards Dumbledore, who conjured an aquatic shield to block the spell. A stone ripped from the ground and hurtled towards Ares, who flipped out of the way and landed in a dueling stance, casting a shield as Dumbledore cast a stronger version of a Stunning Spell.
"Come now, Albus, attempting to capture me?" Ares asked, as he fired off a bone-shattering hex, which Dumbledore deflected into a crumbling stone wall. "I am not going to be redeemed," Ares grunted as he blocked a Petrification Curse (somewhat surprised at Dumbledore's use of Darker magic), "nor will I allow myself to be locked in Azkaban." Ares shot off a series of stunning spells to disorient the older wizard as he closed the distance between them. "There is only one way this can end," Ares said, now on the defensive as Dumbledore shot a flame whip from his wand; an aegis shield protected Ares as he moved forward. "To beat me, Albus," Ares said, as he pushed some of his magic down his right leg, "you're going to have to have to kill me." Ares, now in striking distance of the old man, lashed out with a right kick, using the magic he had pushed into his leg to augment the strength of the kick.
An audible crack could be heard as Ares' kick contacted Dumbledore's ribs, and the old wizard shot backward, tumbling head over heels as Ares landed in a crouch, wand at the ready. Dumbledore wheezed as he stood on shaky legs, mentally calling for Fawkes, but his long-time companion didn't come. "He won't answer you this time, Albus," Ares said as he moved forward. "I told you, he is a creature of balance. So long as Voldemort lived, he needed to keep you alive to counter the Dark Lord. But with Voldemort dead, there is only you, and balance cannot be maintained so long as a Light Lord lives and a Dark Lord does not. I am a Gray Lord, before you go thinking otherwise," Ares added, seeing the protest in Dumbledore's eyes. "Anti-Apparition and Portkey wards will keep you from escaping. Now, Albus, will you die on your knees like Voldemort, or straight-backed and proud, the way a wizard of your caliber should?"
Dumbledore remained silent, and Ares reached out with his own senses. His eyes widened briefly before he somersaulted backward, avoiding the leaping cougars that Dumbledore had transfigured from the surrounding stone. Ares took note of the veritable zoo of animals Dumbledore had transfigured and made a mental note that he really needed to avoid the bad guy monologue thing. It never ended well, he knew, so he really should have avoided it. "Dirty ploy, old man," Ares said, "and ultimately futile." Ares summoned Fiendfyre, directing it at the animals around them, and flamed to Dumbledore's side as the man inched away from the flames. "Don't worry, Albus," Ares said, casting a perimeter shield on the Fiendfyre at the same time he directed a wandless cutting curse at the old wizard. The cutting curse sliced through the former headmaster's wand, and the shockwave of power that erupted from the destruction of this timeline's diluted Elder Wand sent both wizards stumbling a bit; that same shockwave of power attracted the attention of other parties, not that Ares was aware of it for the moment.
Ares watched as Dumbledore crawled away, drained from the fight. Dumbledore, as he had told Ares in the previous timeline, was no longer a young wizard and his reflexes, as well as his energy reservoirs, were not what they had once been. He raised his wand. "Goodbye, Albus," Ares said, summoning up every ounce of hatred he had for the man who had caused his life to become so consumed by darkness. "Avada Kedavra!" The jet of green magic shot from Ares' wand and struck Dumbledore in the small of the back. The former headmaster stilled, and Ares moved forward, turning the body over with his foot. Dumbledore's eyes stared up without any of the sparkle or fury he had in life, and Ares gave a cool, if sinister, smirk. "Promise kept."
*HPDC*
"Please have a seat, Lord Peverell," Minerva McGonagall said as the man in question entered her office. Despite the efforts of some of Albus' enemies, she had been able to maintain her position as Headmistress of Hogwarts and was now looking for people to fill key positions on the staff. "I know you had differences of opinion with my predecessor, but I hope that does not predispose you in terms of offering aid to Hogwarts when asked for."
"Hogwarts is a school," Ares replied, "and any facility dedicated to the education and protection of our children should receive full support, no matter one's personal views on its staff, present, former, or future."
"I am glad you feel that way," Minerva replied. "I understand you are busy with the Wizengamot and re-establishing your family's holdings, but we are in desperate need of a qualified teacher in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Your brief duel with Albus at the Yule Ball aside, your scores in Defense were well above anything most of our previous teachers had and the majority of those I would ask are either being recalled to the D.M.L.E. or currently work for the Department of Mysteries. I was hoping I could convince you to join us this coming school year as our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
"Headmistress McGonagall, it would be my pleasure to help train those who hold the future of our world in their hands," Ares replied. "But I won't handle the fourth years and above with kid gloves. If this world wants them to leap right into the real world after their seventh year, then they're going to deal with the harsh realities of the world early, too."
"I hope you realize the problems that may bring you," Minerva replied carefully.
"I'm ready for it," Ares replied.
"Then I shall see you on August 30," Minerva said. "Please send me a book list for your subject, one book for each year, no later than next Friday."
*HPDC*
"Well, this is interesting," Damien Darhk mused to himself as he looked over the display his technicians were showing him. H.I.V.E. were one of the few to have learned how to interface magic and technology and use it efficiently, and they had traced several large power spikes in the United Kingdom in recent weeks. Darhk looked to his wife, Ruve, who was also his primary researcher. "Do we have any idea what caused it?"
"We do," Ruve replied. She pulled a copy of England's wizarding paper out of her purse. "It appears that the Dragon's Claw has chosen a bearer. The League of Shadows is once more active and operating out of Britain, and they have for several months according to our contact in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"You know, I've always liked Britain," Darhk mused. "So dark and gloomy, truly the kind of place you'd expect a guy like me to live. As a warlock and former member of the League of Assassins, I should probably introduce myself to the new Ra's al Tanin. It's only proper, isn't it?"
"Indeed, my love,' Ruve purred. "I do love wizarding society's aristocratic nature."
A/N: If I do manage to do a sequel, it will involve Ares facing off with Damien. That will certainly cause some ripples in the Arrowverse timeline.
Oh, and yes, there was some heavy influence from Slade Wilson in Ares' final confrontation with Dumbledore.